The bus set off in the police cleared channel for us. We were a security risk, so no vehicles ahead or behind us. Or that's what we assumed, nobody ever explained anything to us. But then, we probably never asked.
I leaned back in my soft seat, stretched. I'm tall and my arms hit the luggage rack above our heads. Cream gave me an irritated look, then went back to the book he had pulled out to read. Of late, Cream doesn't talk much to me and off and on, he has not been my room mate, but everyone has a right to moods. Cream has been there whenever I needed him and has even stuck around the times I've pushed him away..
The bus screeched to a halt. What, had we already reached West End? No, we had got caught in a traffic signal. Some traffic cop was going to get a real shouting for not clearing our path. Oh well, Bangalore traffic is a part of the city's charm and all my team mates had gone through it too many times to count.
I pulled out my Walkman, plugged my ear phones in and relaxed listening to Rajkumar and PB Sreenivas's old Kannada film songs. The bus moved and stopped and moved and stopped till at last we came to West End. Cream, ever aware that the media would be following us and not wanting to say anything at all after that defeat to Sri Lanka, grabbed his small kitbag from the rack and rushed out of the bus. I got up more leisurely, stretched, looked around, took off my earphones and ambled out of the bus.
That woman was there again, the one from the airport. She had positioned herself at the entrance to the lobby and there was no way anyone could avoid her. Well, I like enterprise, and there was something about the way she looked, which I liked. Whatever. I walked up and surprise, surprise, she shoved her mike at me. A tiny thing, she had to lift her arm and elbow to get her mike in front of my face. I gave her a pained look and walked off without saying anything.
Well, we have a policy, we have no option. The BCCI has bound us left, right and centre. I didn't particularly want to talk to anyone about anything, but I didn't like the fact that BCCI had barred all of us from speaking to the media. Only Cream, coachie Rangarajan and manager Dinesh Tiwari can talk to them. It protected all of us, yes, but its the principle of the thing no? I am not a two year old to be told what to do and what not to do!
I leaned back in my soft seat, stretched. I'm tall and my arms hit the luggage rack above our heads. Cream gave me an irritated look, then went back to the book he had pulled out to read. Of late, Cream doesn't talk much to me and off and on, he has not been my room mate, but everyone has a right to moods. Cream has been there whenever I needed him and has even stuck around the times I've pushed him away..
The bus screeched to a halt. What, had we already reached West End? No, we had got caught in a traffic signal. Some traffic cop was going to get a real shouting for not clearing our path. Oh well, Bangalore traffic is a part of the city's charm and all my team mates had gone through it too many times to count.
I pulled out my Walkman, plugged my ear phones in and relaxed listening to Rajkumar and PB Sreenivas's old Kannada film songs. The bus moved and stopped and moved and stopped till at last we came to West End. Cream, ever aware that the media would be following us and not wanting to say anything at all after that defeat to Sri Lanka, grabbed his small kitbag from the rack and rushed out of the bus. I got up more leisurely, stretched, looked around, took off my earphones and ambled out of the bus.
That woman was there again, the one from the airport. She had positioned herself at the entrance to the lobby and there was no way anyone could avoid her. Well, I like enterprise, and there was something about the way she looked, which I liked. Whatever. I walked up and surprise, surprise, she shoved her mike at me. A tiny thing, she had to lift her arm and elbow to get her mike in front of my face. I gave her a pained look and walked off without saying anything.
Well, we have a policy, we have no option. The BCCI has bound us left, right and centre. I didn't particularly want to talk to anyone about anything, but I didn't like the fact that BCCI had barred all of us from speaking to the media. Only Cream, coachie Rangarajan and manager Dinesh Tiwari can talk to them. It protected all of us, yes, but its the principle of the thing no? I am not a two year old to be told what to do and what not to do!
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