Turning cynics into supporters

IT WAS JUST after the ninth over, shortly after Rohit Sharma had smeared Haris Rauf for a pair of sixes, that the edges of a wondrous night in Ahmedabad began to sharpen a little and the destiny of the game assumed crystal clarity.

- SANDIP G

The fate of a crushing India win seemed unchangeable-notweak ortactic could alter it-for such was the domination India wielded.

So much so that not a nerve of anxiety was shed in the ocean of blue the stands was. Pakistan looked shattered, tired of running into dead ends filled with blue shirts.

In three matches of this World Cup, India have blown their opponents away with a streak of ruthlessness reminiscent of Ricky Ponting's Australia that claimed back-to-back titles.

But the most fascinating aspect of their game is not merely winning or dominating, but the assimilations of skills and styles that have punctuated their victories. Watching India, thus, is a vivid and fulfilling experience, a slice of the country's own twinkling diversity. A confluence of varied and distinct cultures tessellating to construct something magnificent and immortal. To get a gist of the variety that makes India, you need not hop into a train that connects Kashmir to Kanyakumari, or taste the wondrous cuisines en route. But just tune into a cricket game of theirs. The experience is both enlightening and educational, in a cricketing sense.

It's a team that you would pay to watch, you would bunk office hours, you would lie to your boss or spouse or parent for, you would ensure that you would not miss a ball. The team could convert the cynics into supporters, the doubters to faithful. It could make you fall in love with the game; make you a cricket-addict even. To watch them is to be lost in a beautiful world. Like a great piece of literature or music, you could pick from anywhere and be marveled. Like the cover drives Shubman Gill authored.