Carrom-Final matches - a la Kurukshetra war

(All in good humour; no offence meant)

Kurukshetra Battlefield: Carrom hall

Dhritarashtra (the blind king who wanted to watch Mahabharata Yudh sitting on his Simhasana):  SFV residents wishing to have a gist of the proceedings, but from within the comforts of their home

Sanjay (who narrated the story to Dhritarashtra): Thy humble writer, of a sort, VVS. No Sunil Gavaskar, Murali Karthik or Harsha Bhogle to give him a breather.

Pandavas and Kauravas: Just the players with no Good, Bad or Indifferent segregation. All are good, with sportsmanship aplenty.

Statisticians: Girish Kumar and Raghu (Carrom convenors)

* * * * * * * * * 

Dhritarashtra: Sanjay, is Krishna, the clever and manipulative around with Arjuna. 

Sanjay: No, your majesty, but almost every player is accompanied by his spouse to give him moral support.

Dhritarashtra: Or, for backseat driving?

Sanjay: I don’t know sir. But your prerogative to say so, your majesty.

Now, over to the game. Welcome ladies and gentlemen to the Kurukshetra Channel 007. The battlelines are drawn. 

With heads up the players are marching into the battlefield in measured steps, minus bows and arrows, swords, spears, or maces; no military band in attendance, or the overpowering sounds of conches and drumbeats that marked Mahabharata Yudh. All that a few carried in their pocket was a tiny striker. But,  like Shakuni’s tricky dice, this striker could act as a bulldozer in reducing the ‘enemy’ to nothing.

Unlike the burly, broad-chested Arjuna, Bhima, Karna or Duryodhana, here our friends (mere modern mortals surviving on millets or pursing intermittent fasting plans) are frail, of normal build, with receding hair line – or, to correct myself, some having more hair on their chest than on head. Outwardly they proclaim, ‘we are playing just for fun’, but inwardly they are here hell-bent on winning. Isn’t it after all so with all of us?

The onlookers clustered around to cheer their players had to beg, borrow, or steal chairs from wherever they can lay their hands on, which they did without the last two having to claim the single one, as in a musical chair. 

In the matches that I watched at one end Neelambika and Rohini played against one another to qualify for semi final. Neelambika was leading for most part with her play-with-a-bang style, only to succumb in the end to Rohiini’s persistent slow and steady wins the race pattern. Like Guru Dutt’s goods-train-speed song in Pyaasa, Yeh duniya agar mil bhi jaye to kya hai…, the score moved at snail’s pace, in single digits.

Simultaneously, Savitha played against Navneeth, a formidable player. The game was always swinging like a pendulum. Everyone watched it with bated breath. Ultimately Savitha won. 

Thus, Savitha and Rohini were pitted against each other to qualify for the finals. Savitha won -  a match I missed.

At the other end Sandesh had defeated Girish in a match I bet none of us could predict the results.  Sandesh played Raghu in semi finals and won. 

Thus the final singles match were played between Savitha and Sandesh. In a well contested match, I learn, Savitha conceded defeat to Sandesh in a 9-29 score, or, to put it in proper perspective Sandesh had a comfortable win. 

In the doubles, the final match Panindra and Raghu (brothers)  were pitted against Girish and Savitha (brother and sister – also Savitha is Panindra’s wife). Thus, all this fight was within the family – precisely why I said, a sort of Mahabharata Yudh between Pandavas and Kauravas with only one difference. Everyone played in a spirit of accommodation and sportsmanship. Panindra and Raghu won.

After watching the games, these are my takeaways: Sandesh, Mr Quiet, as I could study him. Savitha, Jhansi ki Rani, minus on a horseback. Navneeth, the Amul-butter smooth striker. Panindra, sarva vyapi, but moves around calculated to attract the minimum of attention. Rohini, patience-tester as to when she would release the striker to hit the coin she aims at.

These said, no amount of praise will be too much for the conveners – Girish and Raghu K N. Three cheers.

E&OE – Errors and Omissions Excepted.