Tuesday, 24 January 2012

Afridi’s Secret Diary: My Brash With Politics!

I resently attended Imran Bhai's political rally and I am impressed like nobody’s business.

It was so crowded that no body was going. But I went and the because was, Imran Bhai invited me. Of course I was septic initially but still went.

When I was gone, he was speeching like no body’s business. His voice was booming. His voice was very…what you call it… echo-friendly. Outside the ground, there was long cues of people.

When I climbed the stage, he told me to sit. After his speech finished, he spoke me if I want to speech. I said I was speechless and could not speak. I needed some body to right it for me.

He laughed and we started chat.

"You look so fit even today. Do you still exorcise?" I questioned. He laughed like nobody’s business.

He teached me much things about politics. He thinks about the pour people of our country, says we need a brake from the Zardaris and Musharrafs.

He has a big aim in life – to be the President of Pakistan. Very aimbitious man… or is it amphibious? Whoever. Please beer with me on that.

I asked him "How you manage duel role – cricket and politics? What if you are defeat?"

He said like cricket, wins and loos are part of politics. Then he spoke something I did not understood.

He said we should be men of high principal.

Now in my school, our principal was a small tall man. That is not my faultness, I did not appoint he. So is it my blame if I don’t had high principal?

Will meet him next in his berth day party. Will ask him to clearify it.

Wednesday, 18 January 2012

Exclusive: Harrowing Homecoming Awaits Dhoni & Co!

At the outset, Doosra maintains eavesdropping is thoroughly unethical, a giveaway of a dodgy upbringing and can never be encouraged under any circumstances.

One such recent exercise shattered the myth that BCCI bosses care only about money and doesn’t bother about anything else as long as they collect it by the sackfuls.

On the contrary, BCCI boss N Srinivasan and his colleagues are seething in anger after India's debacle in Australia.

And if what Doosra heard -– have already outlined where Doosra stands on the subject of eavesdropping – is any indication, some of the Indian cricketers are in for serious trouble.

Following is the excerpts of what was heard inside the BCCI office where Srinivasan was in a mood so foul that it would have drawn a red card even from the most considerate of soccer referees.

Clerk: Cool down sir, cool down. So much anger is not good for your health. Should I get you a glass of chilled coconut water?

Srinivasan: Coconut water my size 12 foot! Disgraceful! They’ll get their just deserts.

Clerk: What sir! They disgraced the country and you treat them with desserts. Not done sir.

Srinivasan: Stop mumbling you moron and see that list. I’ve decided to punish some of those nincompoops.

Clerk: Ok Sir. Dhoni is number one. Captain Cool.

Srinivasan: Rubbish! Captain Fool. Okay, on his return, tie him to a chair in the dark storeroom of our office with a full-volume TV set playing that CD.

Clerk: Which CD sir?

Srinivasan: "Navjot Sing Sidhu Unplugged".

Clerk: Wow. Sir Sehwag is next.

Srinivasan: Too many aloo-paranthas blunted him. Completely lost focus and concentration. Make him balance a hot samosa on the tip of his nose, two hours in the morning and another two in the afternoon to improve his concentration. Add "hands tied behind back".

Clerk: Done sir. What about Ishant?

Srinivasan: That brain-dead moron? Give him a bar of soap and Baba Ramdev’s ink-stained robe. He has to rub the cloth clean.

Clerk: Excellent sir. And Gambhir?

Srinivasan: Gambhir, well when he returns tell him to clean all Mayawati statues in Noida Park with his jersey. Also, after finishing every statue, he should ask himself "Have I Made it Large?"

Clerk: Brilliant sir. Srikkanth too in the list?

Srinivasan: Of course. Make the motormouth madcap read all seven volumes of Mayawati's memoirs cover-to-cover. You then ask him random questions to ensure he actually read it.

Clerk: Ok sir. By the way, what happened to the team's phase-out plan?

Srinivasan: What phase-out? Time for complete overhaul. Cancel their original return tickets and book them on Alliance Air, specially requesting for that pilot who landed the Kozhikode-bound flight in Kochi.

Clerk: But sir...

Srinivasan: What but? Do just as I say.

Tuesday, 10 January 2012

Kohli’s 7 Point Defence In Fingergate Scandal

Doosra suggests a soil test of the Sydney Cricket Ground (SCG) if civilisation is to know why it brings out the worst among the visiting Indians.

The moment a Harbhajan Singh steps on it in 2008, the SCG soil convinces him of Andrew Symonds’ stalled evolution, an articulation that led to a Monkeygate.

Flash forward 2012 and this time a Virat Kohli, almost against his wishes, stars in a Fingergate scandal, confirming widespread doubts about the soil’s sanity-sapping streak.

Kohli mounted a spirited defence against the charge, using a seven-pronged strategy but the ICC Match Referee would not budge.

Doosra has accessed Kohli’s seven-point defence in which the cricketer made varying attempts to explain his action:

1. With Australian batsmen cruising merrily, I had to do something to keep myself awake and amused. So I engaged in a pantomime with Gautam Gambhir and had just asked him “what’s up” when the photo was taken;

2. The photo was taken out of context. As part of my limbering up, I raised all my fingers, one by one, but the cameraman for some reason chose to publish the third of the five photos, leading to this clearly avoidable fuss;

3. I had my fingers crossed for a breakthrough and I did it my way. Now to cross your fingers, you need to raise the middle one first before wrapping the top of the index with it. The cameraman, no doubt a crook with filthy motives, caught me midway through the act, thus kicking up this unnecessary storm;

4. Like Muralitharan, I was born with a physical deformity in the form of an erratic middle finger with occasional-gravity-defying syndrome which makes it spring and raise itself even against my wishes.

5. I was shadow-practising a carom ball, which you can’t deliver without a flick of that finger, however bad it may look.

6. Staring at defeat, Mahi asked us to put up our hand and be counted. Now everyone does it their own way but my strong sense of aesthetics tells me to start by raising the longest finger first, followed by others. I had just initiated the process when the photographer shot me.

7. Well, if the above arguments didn’t convince you, let’s cut the crap and admit -- Shit Happens.

Sunday, 1 January 2012

When Superman met Sehwag!

Superman: Hey man. I heard you are the Superman of Cricket and so came to meet you.

Sehwag: Who are you?

Superman: Strange! You don’t know me? I’m Superman!

Sehwag: No idea what you do but kids know you. Why they call you Superman? Have you scored a 400 in a test?

Superman: I mean....No.

Sehwag: 200 in ODIs?

Superman: Err...No.

Sehwag: So? Have you beaten Navjot Sidhu in a proverb contest? Did you out-cliche Ravi Shastri in presentation ceremony? Do you do more endorsements than Tendulkar?

Superman: Hang on. Well, to start with, I have x-ray vision.

Sehwag: X-ray? Not bad. Why don’t you join our support staff? We need a portable x-ray machine anyway. Someone is getting injured every day.

Superman: Man, it’s not like that. With it, I can see through.

Sehwag: What? What’s wrong with you? Are you a pervert?

Superman: What are you talking, man!

Sehwag: Forget it. What else can you do?

Superman: I save damsels in distress.

Sehwag: Why just damsels? Why not kids and the aged ones? Hero banta hai?

Superman: I mean I help all...

Sehwag: Then why said only damsels? What else you can do?

Superman: I can fly.

Sehwag: Why?

Superman: What do you mean why?

Sehwag: What’s the need to fly? What these aeroplanes are for? Hero banta hai?

Superman: Man, you are just impossible. Well, I’m an American cultural icon and I hope you know what I mean when I say that.

Sehwag: Icon? So what? I’m also an IPL icon player. There are several other players whom Lalit Modi made icon. What’s the big deal?

Superman: I give up. No point arguing with you. Can’t believe someone can be so...good bye.

Sehwag: Good bye. Waise bhaisab, don’t mind but you have worn your undie on the outside. No doubt in a hurry.

Superman: No. I wear it like this! This is my style. It’s when in hurry that I dress like you guys. Bye.

Sehwag: What? Dufferman.