Midnight Match Meander

English Premier League 2017 – 2018 finally started for me too, tonight. Top of the table with 6 points, 8 goals and none conceded, we have been having a promising season unlike Arsenal and Chelsea who have been defeated in 50% of their matches this season.  I had to miss the last two Manchester United matches for absolutely unavoidable reasons, adding to my anxiety this morning when I found out that our TV set top box was not working. I guess my brother was even more anxious as he immediately reached for his phone to call the cable guys to request them to come to our home for repairs. His biggest fear was that he might not be able to watch the “bigly” (to borrow from Donald Trump’s vocabulary) anticipated Mayweather  vs McGregor match tomorrow. But thankfully, the repairmen were able to fix our box. 

One thing I love about being a Mizo is that, even this morning when I realized that I might not be able to watch our match with Leicester on our TV, I knew there were many homes in our neighbourhood I could go to for the match. In fact, I have done that several times - watched football matches at neighbours’ homes because in almost every home, there is at least (at least) one football fan whose eyes would be glued to the TV to watch the greatest club in the world in action. Of course, nobody needs to be reminded that “the greatest club in the world” is a reference to Manchester United. 

By 9.30pm, I was getting fidgety because I was still stuck in a special training session I had expected to be over by 9.15 or so. The desire to go home was so fierce that I rushed home refusing, uncharacteristically, tea and biscuits served to us as soon as the session got over. I reached home just in time to see the starting lineup of both sides. I did not have time to change so I ended up watching the first half in my puan and boots making me feel like Victoria Beckham. Victoria without a David, Victoria without four adorable kids, Victoria without an endless supply of make-up, clothes, shoes, Victoria without flawless skin, and Victoria without a successful career in the music and fashion industry. Yeah, I felt like Victoria Beckham - but a poorer, plainer version – all because I wore high heeled boots during a football match.

In spite of a few regrettable missed chances, the first half was encouraging. It felt amazing to see United in great shape and it was easy for my eyes to adjust to the sight of fresh faces in United jerseys. Though I am by no means a football expert, I was hopeful of a third win because of our motivated game. Sure enough, Rashford and Fellaini delivered in the second half. 8 of the 10 goals that have been scored by United have been scored in the second half, with 4 being scored by substitutes. 

Despite the happy win, I could not help but have my mood a little dampened by the absence of Rooney. Though I do understand that he did what he had to do, a part of me still wishes that he had stayed. A bit old school, it always makes me immensely sad to see faces that have become familiar and loved and cherished leaving us. Rooney, especially, has been an intrinsic part of my journey and growth with United. But I wish him good health, happiness, success and contentment at Goodison Park. 

With our formidable squad, I am expectant of several more wins and a great season ahead. I hope the first two matches that I had to miss will also be the last two missed matches this season. 10pm IST is the most convenient time for me and most of the other Indians, I assume, when it comes to football matches. By this time, it is easy to escape from other engagements, and there are few distractions to worry about.  

Well, signing off now with the knowledge that the next big thing of consequence that awaits me is my phone alarm which will rudely awaken me from bliss tomorrow morning. So, thanks, if anyone has been wasting precious minutes reading this juvenile piece. 😁

The Magic Trunk

Ashish must have been nine or so. He had skin so deeply tanned that it glowed to match the sparkle in his eyes which complimented his smile which was as genuine as the poverty he had to live with. Eighty seven rupees a day for a family of five is no handsome sum. 

One humid afternoon, in anticipation of an upcoming teachers’ day celebration, a small group of young boys discussed what they’d wear to their fancy dress parade. The well-fed ones who slept on expensive mattresses eagerly shared the details of what they were planning to wear. “I will wear the spiderman suit gifted to me on my birthday.” “I will come decked as a cowboy. I even have a pistol to complete my look.” “I will dress up like a professional cricketer. I will be all geared up in my cricket kit.” And so on. 

Ashish sat in a corner, listening intently, with an expression that was hard to read. There was just a slight hint of the smile that usually sat on his face. He wasn’t his cheerful self. He did not escape notice for long. One of the boys eventually quipped, “Oye, Ashish, what will you wear?”

With his eyes lowered, he replied, “All my fancy clothes are locked away in a trunk, and I don’t have the key.”