Wednesday morning, the news channels boisterously reiterated, Team India was coming to town. Thousands were thronging the airport and this -- the channels pointed out -- was the route the open-air team bus was planning to take.
Armed with a limited knowledge of Mumbai roads, I took a cab to Shivaji Park, the land of Sachin Ramesh Tendulkar. One had to see how the onetime cradle of Indian cricket was preparing to welcome the young heroes.
It wasn't.
Mumbai, dripping with a little more than the daily deluge -- the Ganpati festival ended the night before, and is traditionally accompanied by bucketfuls from heaven -- didn't seem to care. No fans lined the streets, despite suprisingly helpful hoardings and banners ready to nudge in the right direction. Brolly-weilding gents by the side of the road were simply waiting for the Number 78 to get to work. Cops stood every twenty feet or so, well-organised but with nothing to do. Politicians' faces smiled from banners, their grinning mugs a foot larger than the obligatory 'Congrats India' team photograph.
Nobody seemed to care, and a truly miserable picture popped into my head: a victorious team getting wet on an open-air bus with a few politically-charged dozens alongside; Harbhajan Singh sneezing with no hundreds to yell 'bless-you!' Most tragic.
Also read: Pics: Mumbai salutes the champs
Advertisement
