Sleeping through the static

Word is that SRK wasn't going to show his face at the ground until KKR won. Thanks for winning your first game, guys. Now we've had it.

Off to cover The Circus today. Bangalore-Delhi, Delhi-Mohali, Mohali-Delhi, Delhi-Mohali,Delhi-Bangalore. Cringe at the thought of how many DLF Maximum sixes and Citi Moments of Success we're all going to be inundated with for the next six weeks. Imagine the folks in Dharamshala. Lovely little ground, sleepy little town, quaint scenery, and against the backdrop of that awesome mountain range you'll have Samir Khochar, Angad Bedi and Ayushmann flashing their enamel while Ravi Shastri bursts a few hundred more blood vessels asking - nay, demanding - downtown Dharamshala whether they're ready for the toss. Those poor monks. It's enough to force even the most tranquil ascetic pick up his robes and make for the plains. Ah, the bedlam in Goliath. More updates from the road.

We're trained to differentiate between wants and needs, good and bad, right and wrong, necessity and frivolity. But what happens when the fundamental ability to understand what's good for you and bringing you down deteriorates? That's when you haul ass, brother.

"Arre beta, tumhare pant toh thode chote ho gaye hain ..." "Aunty, mein chaar saal ka hoon aur mere pant teen saal ke." Yes ma'am, I was witty at a very young age.

Kishore, Mukesh, Hemant, Rafi, Manna Dey ... good companions this evening. Aaj Mausam Bada Beimaan Hai. Khoya Khoya Chaand. Mere Mehboob Qayamat Hogi. Yeh Mera Deewanapan Hai. Yaad Kiya Dil Ne. Main Zindagi Ka Saath. Now if someone can just do that bloody RBS Cup wrap.