Foot-boll(ocks)!!

Champions of England! Champions of Europe! Champions of the World! Winners of the Carling Cup!

Venue: Old Trafford.

Attendance: 75569

Opponents: Liverpool

Scoreline: Manchester United 4 - Liverpool 1 (Oh O! I mean the other way around.)

Disaster! Katastrophe! Calamité! Desastres! Or in simple Indian - BHENCHOT!!!!

How did this happen? Or like the way Richie says to one of his sidekicks in The History of Violence - How did we fuck that up? I just can't believe it!

We were 7 points clear with a game in hand and at the top of the table. Crusing in true sense. Then came the scousers beating their drums after a fantastic win against Real Madrid in the Champions League. And did we not FUCK it up? Yes, we got beat 4-1. But it was more about our defensive shambles than Liverpool's offense. The same defense which is the base for our push on 5 fronts this season. Vidic's schoolboy errors handed them 2 piss-easy goals. And the scousers had the bext 2 weeks in recent memory. Although, as Steve Gardner mentioned in his blog on Manutd.com, they tend to forget that we had the the best 2 decades. 

I never in my worst nightmares thought we would lose so badly. Losing against Liverpool always hurts. Losing 4 goals to 1 is even bad. And that too at Old Trafford is just catostrophic. I was fortunate to escape the stick from my liverpool supporting mates in India as I was on my way back to London that day. 

The result was a one-off. Or that's what we thought. We all were expecting a backslash against Fulham at Craven Cottage. We even pitied the poor Whites or Cottagers as they love to call themselves. Roy Hodgson even gave an interesting statement before the game when it sounded defeat even before the game started. He said Chelsea and Liverpool should expect no favours from Fulham when they visit. Although it sounded like a white flag before the battle, it seemt more out of Fergie's books if anything. 

We played absolutely rubbish in the first half but upped the tempo in the second half and should have got away with atleast a point. Both results show us in a very poor state altough we played quite outstandingly, arguably. But then we did come away with 3 points when we weren't at our very best previously in the campaign. Sir Alex kept on hinting that we would drop points at some point or the other. Even he would never have imagined we would come true to his words against the scousers. The players have had a fantastic season so far bar the last few games. Vidic has been outstanding. He has just had one bad game and I am sure he will come up with the goods come the rest of the season. We would miss Rooney, Scholesy and Vidic against Villa. But I think our squad is big enough and I believe we can cope with it for the next few games.

What next? I have no bloody idea. I am losing my sleep over it. I want the premier league desperately! At any cost! We cannot afford to drop any more points. Coming away with 3 points against Villa is vital to show everyone that it was a one off week. We always make it hard for ourselves, we always do. This is the 18th! This is the season when we knock the scousers off their fecking perch. I dont want to lose this one. I can't imagine how much the scousers would love it to rub it in for years to come if we bottle this one up. I dont care about the Champions League or the FA cup for that matter. It was always an unrealistic expectation to win 5 trophies anyways. 

We have to show belief. We have to support the reds. We always win it. We should take it by the scruff off the neck. Come on you reds!

B-E-L-I-E-V-E

Gone Baby Gone

If you ever ask me, when does a man feel the most terrible, I would probably have quite a few incidents or moments to narrate. But right now, I dont know how or why, it feels terrible. Really really terrible. Right to the core. From the deepest bottoms of my heart.

Leaving India is always bad. Leavind friends is always bad. Leaving family is even bad. But return someplace where you dont like it at all is the worst feeling. That too on the back of a good long almost 3 months vacation is unexpressable.

I went to India in January. I hadn't got time or the courage to go visit India for over 2 years. 2 years 4 months to be precise. The nostalgia was immense. It was getting to a point where I was getting emotionally sick thinking about everything that is about India. I was getting depressed. Hence, when I received my new Visa, I decided to take a chance amidst all the ongoing problems like immigration, finances, jobs and all one could think of. I thought of surprising my family by visiting without any prior notice.

I notified the monster of a man a.k.a Shailesh about it and he came to pick me up to Mumbai.

I was worried sick about the money that I would have to spend in India, the bills that would pile up when I return back to London, the immigration mamu's patting my back and saying "kahitari kara chaha panyacha" (there chaha paani costs a friggin lot than a 5 star hotel's chaha paani!).

But once I shocked the living daylights off my mom after showing up on the door, all the fear was lost. That was the most satisfying moment I had in a long long time. Then came the turn of Uncles, aunties, brothers, sisters n friends. It turned out beautiful. It was a dream come true. But as one says, a man can never be happy with what he gets. I wanted more.

I had thought of going out with my mates to movies, long rides, trips to neverlands, just go insane. I had been waiting for it for 2 long years. 26 long months. 790 long days. Countless hours.

But as it always happens in my case, I learn things the hard way. Things had changed. They'd changed real good.

People had moved on. People had girlfriends. People had studies. People had jobs. People had other things to do. People were happy. I wasnt sure about myself. My first thought was, how pathetic could one be when it comes to giving excuses. I felt awful at heart and wanted to secretly cry my eyes out. But then I realised it wasnt all that bad. I realised they had to do it because it was their life. I didnt not have the right to pop in all of a sudden out of oblivion and expect things to happen. I couldnt expect them to leave their daily chores for my satisfaction. Thats not what friends do. They understand each other. Support each other.

The first month flew away like a leaf off a fading tree. The next was excruciatingly painful. Get up at 2 in the noon and sleeping at 5 in the morning took the piss. Some of the things some friends said hurt like mad. I felt really bad about it. But I couldnt show it.

People said I hadnt changed. Why on earth would they want me to change? Everytime I come back to India, they expect a major change in me. Why? What is wrong with me? The next time I go back, I am gonna be a real pisshead making people wish I had been to my old self.

When I was spending my time doing absolutely fuckall, I felt terrible. When my sister was getting up at 4 in the morning, cooking food and going off to work untill 6 in the evening, I felt like a penny waiting for a change. My frustration resulted in me fighting with my mother, shouting on my brother, being rude with my sister. I hated myself. I still do for being a dickhead.

I dont know what to do. Today sitting here and typing all this after a day of returning back to London, I feel terrible. There you go. For the umpteenth time, I feel terrible. I want to cry but I cant. I just want to go back to my country even though I feel I couldve done a lot better in India this time around. No matter how bad my condition was, no matter how bad I was treated at times, no matter how ignorant people are, I still love it. I miss my mom, my friends, our kitten, our house, the bike, the car stereo, the tea, the food, the people, the festivals. I miss the love given by all. I just cant take it. Please god help me find a way! Please!