I first noticed it in 1986. When it repeated itself in 2015, it became a hypothesis and finally, yesterday, the hypothesis was validated and proved right. There is a direct correlation between my backside and Indian team’s victory in crucial matches.
I still remember with a cold and clammy feeling that day in 1986 when I had walked into the hostel common room to watch India play Pakistan at Sharjah. India had batted first and had scored an imposing total. When I walked in to watch the match, Pakistan was struggling at 140 for 4 and Miandad was at the crease. Pakistan required some obscenely high run rate to reach the target and it looked certain that we could celebrate that night by getting sloshed silly. Till I walked in and plonked my butt down on the chair, that is. The next couple of hours were the worst in my then-eighteen-years of life, as I watched Miandad pulverising India and leaving Chetan Sharma looking like a complete Idiot. But the one who looked even more like a complete idiot was I. In IIT, where students did complex mathematical analyses for fun, every single person sitting in the common room had noticed a direct correlation between my butt hitting the chair and India’s downturn. Being a very sensitive guy, who moreover loved his country very much, I was forced to acknowledge that there was a distinct possibility that the positioning of my butt in front of the TV seemed to in some mysterious way switch off team-India’s supply of luck. I was devastated, but kept hoping that we had misread the signs. After all, correlation doesn’t necessarily imply causation.
However, what happened in 2015 world cup semi finals made the possibility a near certainty. That day, at Zentron Labs, our start-up company, we had ordered pizzas for everyone so that we could happily sit back and watch India thrash Australia. Australia had set an extremely high target, but the Indian boys were chasing with gusto. Till my butt swung into action again, that is. I had plonked onto the seat in front of the makeshift screen we had created amidst our gizmos and equipment to feed our tummies with pizza while our spirits were to be fed with the sight of India winning. No sooner had I sat down than the all too familiar sinking feeling started– the well-set batsmen started playing ridiculous shots to get out. Eventually India lost. The young kids at Zentron were also smart enough to figure out the correlation, though they desisted from calling my butt seditious, since I had fed them pizzas. This time, I was also completely convinced that my butt was a reverse juju of sorts. Being very nationalistic, (RSS please note) I stopped watching cricket altogether.
Over the last one year, however, the rationalist in me managed to convince my superstitious side that laws of physics did not support my theory that my butt could have any significant effect on the outcome of Indian cricket team’s performance. (Except for marginally curving space-time – a localised effect, which should not matter unless I was sitting on Dhoni’s head.) So after a year of inner conflict, yesterday I sat down to watch the match between India and Bangladesh. As I watched the match progress, that sinking feeling again gripped my heart. Indian team was displaying unmistakable signs of being haunted by a malicious butt. Finally it came to a point where Bangladesh required just 2 runs off three balls. I performed the supreme sacrifice for my country. I switched off the TV and removed my butt away from the presence of the TV.
I know what you are thinking- you think I walked away because I believed that it was a lost cause, that I did not have faith that Bharat Mata would pull the team to an impossible victory. No, my friends. I knew that only by switching off my butt, could I strengthen the Indian team sufficiently. That and only that is the reason that I went away muttering.
All of you know what happened subsequently. Saved from the influence of the baleful backside, India took three wickets in the next three balls and won the game.
I have decided never to watch another Indian cricket match again- till scientists invent a material that can shield the invisible juju rays that come out of backsides. Then you will see me watching my country’s team, all dressed like superman and cheering India on.
In the meanwhile, if you think that yesterday’s victory was due to Dhoni’s captaincy or Hardik Pandya’s bowling, and have started worshipping them, think again. You know who (or to be specific, what) should be worshipped by the 1.2 billion people of India.
To read a whole wacky and humorous book authored by me, please click here From Ouch to Oops