Tales of Blighty

1. Why Blighty

Old Blighty is the affectionate name the vilayatis use for their land. I like to use it too, because after all it is the name we gave them. Blighty is none other than the english corruption of our desi Vilayat/Bilayat (what would something from vilayat be? vilayati. bilayati. blighty. precisely.)

2. The unhappy man sitting opposite me in the train had invited himself to tell me his life story. Born and brought up in Manchester, a particularly traumatic period of his life were the years when his job took him away from his hometown.

"It was so far away from me home, and people there talked differently and made fun of me and my accent. Everyone treated me like an outsider, I felt unwelcome, I never belonged there. I had lots of difficulties. It was completely different from Manchester."

Nodding my head in sympathy, I asked him where exactly this city Rochdale was. Australia maybe, Canada perhaps? Oh no, he said, it's ten miles north of Manchester.

3. At the cricket

Ashes tickets are way outside my budget, but i did go to a domestic one dayer. i left after an hour though because of ominous rain clouds. rain ended just as my bus dropped me off at home, and they then played out a thriller.

mind you, it was really dull when i was there, both cricket wise and other.

it was the strangest spectacle. everyone sat in silence watching, like it was a game of chess or something. it was largely a white crowd, but there was the odd bit of exoticness. a middle-aged muslim lady with head scarf was sitting alone and watching, and there was a family of orthodox jews with those side curls, having a stroll.

even the players didn't say anything. after five minutes there, one player yelled encouragement, and we all heard him. after five more minutes, some members of audience clapped. people didn't even talk to people next to them. if we had been there, the batsman would have heard us.

the only exciting moment of the game (while i was there) was when the batsman hit a straight six, and it went and hit an old lady in the members. no wonder they don't prepare spinner's pitches in england. when average member's age is 75, straight lofted shots are a financial risk you can ill afford.

with admirable english calm and reserve, the members continued to watch the game instead of rushing to the victim's aid. from where i was, it looked like she was lying dead in her husband's lap, who was still watching the game. every few minutes medical staff came, looked at her and went away, and eventually when i was leaving, i saw an ambulance coming.

and oh, the price was ridiculous 13 pounds. are they crazy? next time i go to the pub and watch cricket on tv.