Peoria Diary

Being Creative

You can feel it. The freshness I mean. New leaves, new grass, clear blue sky--everything seems invigorated and full of fresh energy. People talk about New Year resolutions but for me springtime should be when you should make promises. Every sunny day taunts you to step outside. Nowhere is the four seasons more contrasting and apparent than the American Midwest. Devoid of any natural beauty (the mountains are far away and so is the sea) you have to be imaginative when spending time outdoors in the Midwest. As for me, for now it’s just confined to short walks sprinkled with the occasional game of tennis. I need to be more creative than that I guess.

Memories

Following the cricket World Cup from this far away was a very different and enjoyable experience I must say. Within the confines of our living room the energy and excitement of the people in the stands was palpable thanks to the wonders of modern technology and a mostly ad free stream that we had access to. You could only imagine the excitement back home as India beat arch-rivals Pakistan and clashed with Sri Lanka in the finals. But once you stepped out (as I had to in the middle of the final match to run an errand) everything was eerily quite and normal. It made you realize that there is indeed a life beyond cricket. But I was lucky enough not to miss the coupe de grace when Dhoni lofted the hapless Sri Lankan bowler for a towering six. It made a statement in more ways than one and for me it was the defining image of this World Cup. Twenty eight years ago I can still recall being woken up in the middle of the night by my grandfather to a grainy black and white image of a beaming Kapil Dev holding aloft the Prudential Cup. The passage of time fails to dull some memories, I suppose.

Red Lights

One of the things to look forward to this summer is spending more time with my little one--all of four months old now (at the time of writing). She has changed our lives after she arrived and our day revolves around whatever schedule she decides. She appears to love her time outdoors and you can see the excitement light up her face when we start strapping her up, in preparation for heading out. And she loves her car ride as well--she is at her serene best when cruising at sixty miles per hour but every red light we stop at makes her cry and whine for she knows exactly when the car has stopped.

Postscript

I must admit that the idea of this diary came from reading Outlook magazine. As an impressionable young man, my weekly devouring of Outlook would start in reverse, by scanning the diary on the last page—reading personal notes and experiences of eminent journalists, editors and politicians was a fascination bordering on obsession. The flashy page 3 snippets on the last page of India Today paled in comparison. These days of course the web has come to my rescue and I still catch up whenever time permits. My favorite diarist? Undoubtedly, Ruskin Bond.