Deconstructing a Recurrent Dream of Me Reverse Swinging a Tennis Ball at Great Pace

Last night I had a dream. I was reverse swinging a tennis ball at great pace. It goes something like this. The ball released low, swings very late, honing into the base of the stump with a thump. I follow it up with a few more in swinging deliveries bowled at a similar pace. The result is always the same. The ball swings very late. It flies straight as an arrow, curving in very late to destroy the stumps.

I started with “last night I had a dream” but part of me believes it to be true. Did I really bowl that fast?  Since I am not doing anything today I am going to try deconstructing this dream to get to the truth.

Here are some facts –

I am five feet eleven. Now, if you’re a fast bowler, this is the perfect height for you to start bowling those slingy toe crushers like a Waqar or a Malinga.  If you’re taller than 5’10 the ball comes down. You don’t want that you want the ball to move laterally not horizontally.

I did bowl fast. I remember one snorter that rose from length and another that yorked my friend all ends up.

My friends told that I bowled at a fair clip. You can rely on your friends to tell you the truth, can’t you?

Getting back to the dream

In the dream I reverse swung a tennis ball. Now everybody knows you can’t reverse swing a tennis ball. How stupid is that? You need a leather ball that is shiny on one side and roughed up on the other side to get any type of swing. No way in hell you can move a tennis ball. A plastic ball can swing like crazy, especially but a swinging tennis ball without lots of top spin, nah!

Conclusion # 1

There is a fundamental error in my recurrent dream. Tennis balls don’t swing unless you put a lot of top spin on them (watch Nadal).

Getting back to the dream again

If only I could remember the face of the batsman at the other end while I was wrecking vengeance on him. What was he like? Short, long, stocky, slim???  Of course I remember.  He was short and slim. Kid has an amateurish approach to my pace bowling because he does not plonk his front foot forward like you’re supposed to do while dealing with a full pitched delivery. Most likely he is some kind of a novice who is more at home moving a bishop or a knight compared to facing the furies unleashed by a fast bowler.

Conclusion #2

This is disappointing because the description of the batsman above matches one of my dear friends who played a good hand at chess but sucked big time when it came to cricket. His ponderous footwork made him a victim of innumerable “clean bowled’s”. All you had to do was to bowl straight at him and he would gladly oblige by exposing his stumps.

Getting back to the game again

The stadium looks all right in the dream. The minor details like the background and iron fencing matches look real enough. The grass is green – the kind of green, lush grass you see in the winter seasons. But wait! Why am I wearing tee shirt? Isn’t it winters or something If we go with the color of the grass? Something is amiss.

Conclusion #3

The dream is all wrong. The grass is of the wrong color. It should have been yellowish green not green green. The clothes are wrong. Damn it is just a dream. I never bowled those great in swinging yorkers like a Waqar or Malinga.

Most probably I bowled a couple of good deliveries that managed to sneak past the defenses of my friend –the chess player. But they were more 110-115kmph deliveries and nothing like Waqar’s 150 Kmph thunderbolts.

Now if you are a moron and don’t know anything about fast bowling here is a video to make you shit in your pants..

Writer Mercenary

I am a writer mercenary. I write for a living. Pay me well and I will do a hatchet job on your competition. I will dish out the vilest untruths and half lies with the greatest relish. I will rip into your rival’s product and drag it through the mud – leaving reputation in tatters. If the money is not good or the other side offers more, I will switch to the other side, just like a mercenary switches sides mid battle. I will do it with no qualm in my heart. I am a writer mercenary.

Here is a secret – I never use a product before writing a review. Your product may be the best, but I don’t care. My job is to tarnish your reputation and I mean to do it well.  All I need is my imagination and some bitterness in my heart.  I can feel bile rising now. I will trash, burn and savage your competition to your heart’s content and ground your rival into the dust. But you must pay me my money. Or Else..

For a price I will write you nice reviews. Your cake is the sweetest! Your diet works magic!  Your home gym rocks! Your exercise bike is the safest! African Mango, Acacia berry – name it. And I will say it works.

Even though I have never assembled a bike, I can write manuals on assembling the most complex exercise machines in less than 30 minutes. Do you know what a “Crosman Benjamin 392 .22 Caliber Bolt Action Variable Pump Air Rifle with Hardwood Stock and forearm” feels like. I do. It feels like a Crosman Benjamin 392 .22 Caliber Bolt Action Variable Pump Air Rifle with Hardwood Stock and forearm. If you want more information, read the review.

Being a mercenary has its advantages. I can write the way I like. I am a writer mercenary after all. Writer Mercenaries are not known for their allegiance – not even to the rules of grammar. Hell with your “subject and word agreements”, “dangling modifiers” and what not’s. Commas are boring. Use your brains and put them where you please.  If you don’t like the way I write, find another mercenary.

Since I am a writer mercenary, I am not bound by rules and regulations. I am not your employee.  I work when I want. I work where I want. Sometimes I tell my client to take a hike. It feels good. It feels good to get back the control. I control the rudder to my ship. This ship sails to where it wants. Sometimes it drifts. There is great fun in drifting. Try it sometimes. But of course you must come back from your drifting. There is money to earn.

The End of Anarchy and Rise of the Bots

The end of Anarchy is nigh. The government is doing everything in its powers to bring about standardization. All pervading  standardization, where ever body will have to wear uniforms – unisex uniforms, so there are no discrimination

 Soon you will have an army of bots descending in your town, selling everything from biscuits to cauliflowers. You may ask when is this going to happen. Well the wheel is already in motion as we speak. The government is busy cranking the handle of its fog machine.

I realized this while ordering a Re 300 Margarita Pizza at our neighborhood Pizza outlet.

 A unisex uniformed BOT took my order. I don’t remember the identity of the person taking the order. The Pizza Company had succeeded in taking the individual out of the person, leaving behind a mere shell of a person – a BOT taking orders. The BOT had a company manual compliant smile #1 firmly in place while it took down the order. A medium Margarita Pizza. Do you want ketchup? Do you like my company manual compliant smile #1 smile, Sir?

 I must say no effort was spared to ensure I noticed the company manual complaint Smile #1.  This was important because later on I was given a form with a single question – did the BOT serve me with a smile or not.

The government is going to pull wool over our collective eyes. The magic word is FDI. The magician is the government.

This is the end of anarchy.

Before you jump the gun and start lambasting me for harboring leftist ideology let me tell you anarchy is good. It is the only way to ensure equality in society. By breaking down established orders, society moves towards equality.

A small businessman is an anarchist because he is not part of any organized order. He is there on his own – buying goods, selling goods. He is independent. This exactly the sort of entity the governments don’t like.  Variables are dangerous. They have a voice. They are not trained to act in a particular way or behave in a Pavlovian way.

The lady in the business suit started spinning the fog machine once again. Words poured. The words were big sounding words, words that promised a lot, words that were spoken with great earnest but were hollow. It was just a fog machine. The lady cranked the machine even more. Do you believe, she said?

BOTS pose no threat to established order because they do not know how to protest. They are just programs created by the government – like software-and getting cast away once they have completed their purpose.

 BOTS have no personality. They just serve their masters. The tragedy is they don’t even know the damage causing to PEOPLE. You can’t blame BOTS. They have been trained. You tell them to jump they will jump.

Biting into the Re 300 Margarita Pizza and hating myself I looked at the tea stall outside. The tea seller had more personality than any of the BOTS inside. Every time I went there to have my “Chai” he actually smiled and the smile actually registered on his face and None of that Company Manual Compliant Smile #1 you see at BOTDOM.

Each independent business is an act of anarchy in the face of standardization. Every “Samosa”, every cigarette sold, every “Chai” you drink supports anarchy.

It is an anti government as it can get because the government clearly wants them out. Get them in unisex uniforms, snatch away their freedom, give them an ID card, give them a number, standardize, standardize….

The lady spinning the fog machine looked at me.

Do you believe in me?

Let’s see.

I am not a BOT.