Boxed voice..

With dry and aching eyes, I couldn't afford to watch much of the T20 WC action in live. Tucked under blanket, thought "hearing" cricket can't be a bad idea either. Eyes shut and ears wide open, I get to listen a match on TV. Tough as it was getting, I get to hear this one man's voice, for whose interviews I used to await eagerly. It's now much easier to lie under the blanket than when he is action.

Anil Kumble's bowling is anyway clinical, but his voice for me is irresistible! And to have him now in the commentator's box is immense pleasure for someone like me who's fascinated by voices. Saurav's another guy, I'd love to hear day in and day out.

Alas! The moment of joy was soon galloped by the thought - my heroes who had triumph and glory on the field have now vacated their thrones to occupy a corner seat of a closed box. Probably, these are the signs of aging - apart from the usual grey hair and wrinkles - that the people around me whom I associate your childhood with, without whom life would've been less passionate, have now moved on to new ways of life because of their age. And it is now on my turn to introduce these commentators as my idols to the younger lot.

For the first time ever, I wish the prime of youth doesn't pass off. To feel young, seems like you need a lot many others to remain young.