I have a new entry into my life, one whom it may not be entirely out of place to refer to as a Navarasanayaka, a rather appropriate appellation in the sense that it will be the purveyor of the navarasas, which, according to whichever is the scripture that defines the lot, are supposedly of essence for those that intend a maximal and comprehensive enjoyment of human life. To be precise, it will now be the steed that will transport me to dimensions I’ve hitherto hardly attempted to enter, and consequently missed out considerably on the joys thereof – most particularly music and movies. There were times when I did feel this absence rather sorely, there was this sort of void in my life, which has perhaps been a major prompt in the coming of this new presence in my life.

Yet another motivation for this new arrival has been, of course, an augmentation in the quantity of my monetary possessions, which the said arrival proceeded to plunge into the negatives, something that’s been rather familiar territory all through college. But its possession and of course, the prospect of the hours spent in its company are sufficient compensation to render worries on any such account unnecessary. Besides, you know, I turn it on like no one else does.

Now, I’ve to get busy. There’s effectively nothing on it. There’s stuff like Aashiq banaya aapne and Dhoom, not to mention something that the guy spells as a telagu movie, all of which it has to be disinfected of so as to render it worthy of the other bounties that it is going to be pampered with in due course of time.

Celebrations! Jubilations! For it has now been established with almost mathematical rigour that while form is temporary, class is permanent. Sourav da hath silenced his critics by his latest century. The one in which he blazed away to his 50 in 139 balls, and then, then, believe it or not, actually stepped on the pedal, and sprinted to his next 50 in the small matter of 122 balls.

This, against the hostile bowling of Messrs Mahwire, Blignaut, Ewing and Dabengwa on a vile, raging pitch in some corner of a foreign field that is forever Zimbabwe. Ah, oh, wooh and other orgasmic noises that are supposed to pass for monosyllabic expressions of speechlessness. This, then, was the baap of the comebacks. This, then, was Captain Courageous. Move over Mark Taylor, Mike Brearley or whoever is your favourite-captain-in-spite-of-low-average.

Besides, he seems to have learnt from his other mistakes, awakening us to the fact that genius lies in attention to small details. No more the Sourav da of old, who would, in his quest for the big picture, forget trifles like grounding his bat. Now he often makes other, faster runners look inept slowcoaches. Laxman, the lazybones( and there're people who actually venerate his lazy, laid-back style. Lethargy, to these misguided aesthetes, is elegance) knew not how to keep pace with Sourav da, and paid dearly for his folly, in much the same way that other Indian batsmen did in the past.

Sourav da will sit back and muse fondly on this, on what we think is his defining innings, but which he knows is merely one of many to come, for the best is yet to be. The musing will last four years, in which period, he will average around 10, but that is just so opponents, critics and men of words can pleasure themselves by arguing that his time is past. Until he hits back. The way only he can.

He then will score a defensive stroke filled century(prefix favourite adjective - 'stout rearguard action','in the trenches' or 'back to the wall') in the 2010 series against the Bongs, which is going to be followed by what philistines would call a slump, but which in truth will an intentional layoff, intended at being the launchpad for yet another comeback in the 2015 series against the Zims, triggering off an astonishing perpetuity of comebacks.

Of course, magnanimous as he is, he isnt going to block the way for younger aspirants into the team, and will retire like a champion, when his game is at his peak, after yet another comeback in the 2098 India-Zimbabwe test series.

He'll then walk away gracefully to pursue business interests – in particular a cure for insomnia – a compendia of recordings of Saurav da innings of the last hundred years.

Until then of course, we have the direct, first person presence of Saurav da to lull us to sleep. Do go gentle into that good night, dearie.

It came to my knowledge sometime ago that lots of people in office for some reason think I'm married. And stay with wife. Jazz of the sort. Maybe it's the deliberately exaggerated unkemptness(the man who doesnt have to try too hard. Ha.)

I hadnt done much(hadnt done anything, actually:-P) to alter public opinion of my status by way of a revelation of my determination to defer the folly of matrimony for the time being, but a certain circumstance forced my hand - the approach of Raksha Bandhan. That compelling situation called upon me to release the news of my availability to the fawning multitudes.

I must leave now, the queue is lengthening.