Although I belong to a cricket crazy nation where the name of a certain player is synonymous to God, writing about cricket doesn’t appeal as much as the more popular game on the planet, soccer. Over the years, Soccer has been more popular than cricket because its ephemeral nature, which condenses all the sportly drama in a 90 minute time frame,just like a well written article which conveys relevance succinctly.
Lets narrow down to the Premier league which is shaping up as the most open race to the title in recent history.
Mourinho’s back but the forward lines got the blues, Why did he let Lukaku still few have a clue,
They say he was shipped out to dent others titles hope, but without the goals Chelsea themselves cannot scope.
The red of Manchester are still finding their feet, We used to talk about their flair now we talk about how Young men in red cheat,
Leaking those goals is where the two Manchesters meet, sometimes I don’t understand what Pellegrini speaks,
Moyes is still partially at Everton, the training’s more than what world class players need,
It barely does any good,an 18 year old boy has been saving them week after week.
Southampton are flying higher than expected, we could see them next year in the champions league,
Only if Tottenham with AVB and the 7 bought for Bale flatter to deceive.
Liverpool look solid but hope SAS are supported well by the wing backs,
Too much experimenting at the back would do know good, Roberto Martinez’s miser defense says Rodger that.
In such an open race it comes down to nerves, and that’s where experience contorts.
and when I asked Gatsby, he said the titles already decided, old sport.
This weeks set up beautifully, Robin welcomes his old fam,
Both clubs have abundance of what the other lacks, Man U could do with any one of Mesut, Jack, Walcott, Santi or Ram, just like Arsene would want any one of Chicharito, Welbeck, Robin or Rooney as part of his plan.
The fervor in his visage while chewing gum captivated the minds of millions of Red Fanatics for more than two and half decades. People perceived and related to Sir Alex Ferguson’s enthusiasm and passion without him doing or saying anything at all. The teams performance and his sanguine persona were enough.
Recently his autobiography bought forward a lot of controversy,gnawing away at the legacy of this eternal legend. Each and every word was scrutinized and taken too seriously by everyone involved. The few polemical points could easily have been taken in the right spirit or ignored. Nonetheless, this controversy throws light on the volatile nature of words. Sir Alex is facing more criticism and backlash than when he was making decisions associated with one of the biggest Football clubs in the world.
The power of silence
Every expression of his was extolled when he kept his intentions to himself, and no sooner that he manifested his thoughts, he created more controversy than Miley Cyrus at the VMA’s. This can very well serve as a lesson in psychology. Words carry with them infinite energy, the can both create and destroy. When profession demanded him to chose his words carefully, he made himself into a demi god, but he faces opprobrium at his attempts of being a common expressive man.
“Hearts are broken with words unspoken,
This time words acted as needles, pinching people, the stitches on the fabric of sir alex’s legacy were unwoven.
Our universe appears to encourage reticence with the superfluous aspersions that the words, long due, produced,
Words seldom do justice, and that’s what this situation conduced.”
As life finally manifests itself into a more sense making scheme of events, I get an opportunity to be grateful for the utter normality in my life. The balance which everyone craves subliminally has taken its time to make its enchanting presence felt. The gift of moderation that I am bestowed with divulged itself seeing me replace my ‘dementedly dominant and dominantly demented’ way of being by a more responsible research-oriented-pilgrim approach towards life. An amazing equilibrium of mind body and soul is a result of sacrificing the big city flash by the small town serenity.
My subliminal prowess aids me in exposing the lunatics of the music industry who hoodwink feeble minds into giving impetus to their empty art.
Although Sex Sells..Hideousness dispels…
As we read more we learn more , as we learn more we notice more, as we notice more our brain starts itching with interrogations.
The not so recent MTV VMA awards presented a fitting example of the wave of imbalance that is debauching our generation. The gift of expression was meant to embellish the spirit of life rather than pushing the already distraught cohort beyond the tipping point. The depiction of talent has taken such a bewildering form that it takes away from the actual talent than adding to it. More than half the performances were pure bliss to the audible receptors. The perfect rhythm and melody tarnished by the acts. It made me wonder. Are these artists actually worthy of the Demi God status that they are bestowed with? And are they doing justice to their fans? I believe that conveying good messages with such abominable performances is worse than not conveying messages at all.
For the artists, I understand denting the universe is essential, but they are so consumed by this conception that they are willing to sacrifice billions of people by misguiding them. They have to realise the concept of responsible influence. Aiming and corrupting minds in the camouflage of fun and entertainment appears to be the order of the world.
We are born with choices, but it’s easier to get influenced when an entire community roots for retards among them. I have seen many a vivid pictures in my life, but never have I witnessed famous people (with millions of fans) appreciating utter lunacy from other artists. Standing ovations symbolised honour for soldiers returning from battle in Rome, now anyone who can act like a Lizard on stage is considered worthy of one. Some of them would actually be eligible to compete for top awards at asylums and rehabilitation centres.
Sometimes I feel that some of these artists are compelled to project such ludicrous images. But doesn’t the power of influence come combined with a responsibility? Shouldn’t they actually care more? Leave a comment if you agree to disagree?