Why isn't there a shoe to wear to sleep yet?

We are gradually heading toward being a nation of shoe specialists. A recent shoe census revealed that the average number of shoes per household has increased from 1 and a half in 1947 to 17 in 2012. The reason for this sudden shoe explosion, of course, is not using condoms. Oh wait, that’s the reason for the population explosion. The reason for the increase in shoes is the need to have a different pair of shoes for every activity, even the ones that don’t require shoes.

Think about it, we have one pair for ‘regular’ use. These are usually the most comfortable and durable shoes, built out of the same material that they use to make Rhinos. The other really important pair is the one for office wear. They are generally black, done so to match the colour of your boss’s heart. There’s one pair we wear to parties. These are the fancy, glittering shows that shine so brightly that plants use their light for photosynthesis. Then, of course, there are the running shoes. The importance of these shoes grew significantly when it was revealed that without the right running shoes, your knees could be reduced to dust. These shoes are usually bulky, padded and if worn without socks, smell so bad that they attract vultures from 50 kilometres away.

The running shoes though are different from the shoes you wear for various sports, even though most sports involve a fair amount of running. For football you need studs, called that because the term, ‘dudes’ wasn’t very popular then. You can’t use studs to play cricket and you can’t wear cricket shoes to play golf. You need riding boots for polo and cowboy boots if you’re a cowboy. You can’t wear shoes for swimming in a pool but you need flippers to swim in the ocean.

There are spare shoes and shoes that you keep inspite of them being so torn that they look like they’ve been through a shark attack. There are shoes for dancing; there are heels for ladies and flats for when they have to walk for more than 4 meters. There are slippers for the loo/college, slippers for the beach, sandals for the summer, sandals for the rains, gumboots if you’re between four and ten years of age, shoes with Velcro for convenience and laces for style, sneakers to go with your jeans and shoes to match your moods. Eventually all we’ll have in our homes will be shoes and our front doors will look like there’s a pooja at our place every day, with that avalanche of footwear fanning out in all directions (even spilling into the lift shaft.)

The power to stop this trend lies in your hands, er, feet. Remember all you need is two pairs. One for use and the other in case you spot a politician.  

(Being a football supporter) Is it really worth it?

Living in a cricket-crazy country and being a football supporter has very few benefits. Often times, especially after matches where Real Madrid has lost in the Champion’s League semi-final, my faith is rocked and in these dark times I am forced to wonder, is it really worth it?

It is because we football fans have to sacrifice a lot and endure much more. Sleep for one thing is always a problem for a football fan in India. A match of any consequence is always being played in some corner of Europe that has a minimum 7.5 hour time difference from wherever the Indian fan is seated. So inevitably, the live telecast happens at some obnoxious time like 1:30 am and by the time the match gets over and you’re done cursing the referee, you’re already one hour late for work. (The tell-tale sign of any football fan are dark circles big enough to be considered as lost rings of Jupiter.)

Then there’s the monetary cost involved with the whole operation. We have to buy club merchandise, which changes every season, posters, HD TV connection, beer, chips, a nice sofa, a better TV, surround sound, a bigger jersey because our beer belly doesn’t fit in the old one anymore. The total cost, with everything included, on average, is a little more than the entire defence budget of the country.

Add to that the physical deterioration that football entails. We’ll inevitably have a sore throat with all the shouting at the telly, cramps because our ‘lucky position’ – the position which we sit in every time our team wins – involves putting our left leg over our shoulder and obviously depression, irritability and high blood pressure caused by the matches themselves. Sometimes we really have to ask ourselves, what with all the existing stresses of modern life, do we really need the extra tension of supporting a football club?

And then to top it off, as if to rub it in our faces, the players we support are always going to the younger than us, earning in millions and going out with the hottest girls, so in the end, no matter what the outcome, the only losers are us, the anonymous football fans. It’s the final insult, the last mockery of our sad situation. But we’ll accept it because it’s the only way we know.

When our teams win we feel good, our chests fill with pride and we march about announcing it to the world until of course our voices are drowned out by the larger number of people discussing, Kolkatta Knight Riders V/S Mumbai Indians. There is no benefit to being a football supporter in India. There is no benefit and there sure as hell is no sleep, either.  

That Old Summer Feeling

I’m getting That Old Summer Feeling. The one I used to get when I was a kid and the only responsibility I had was to get everyone ‘out’ in lock-and-key. The feeling that I used to get when the summer vacations would begin and I would go down to play (note: everyone went ‘down’ to play even if they lived on the ground floor.) knowing that for the next month and a half, it would be just playing and trying to remember to wear my cap when I went out.

That Old Summer Feeling is nothing but feeling free, relaxed and possibly a little tanned. The reason I bring it up is because I just felt it again after a long long time. You see, as the years go by you feel this feeling less and less. The more tangled you get in your work and life, the summer slowly loses its charm and becomes just another season, without that hidden possibility of unbridled joy that it used to hold.

That Old Summer Feeling is about wearing cotton clothes all the time and still feeling itchy and hot. It’s about getting summer haircuts. It's about not stereotyping girls with a boy cut hairstyle as lesbians because everyone realises it’s just too hot to have long hair. It’s about developing prickly heat rashes (scientific term: Ghamori) and still getting by comfortably with just a nice cold bath. It’s about having mango juice trickle down your arm as you eat it like the greedy bastard that you are.

That Old Summer Feeling is about using the A/C so much that you’re name is put fifth on the top five reasons for the depletion of the ozone layer. It’s about walking in from the burning heat and having ice cold water; and then falling seriously ill. It’s about turning the fan on speed ‘5’ and then looking at it wobble dangerously and praying that it doesn’t fall. It’s about hating powercuts.

That Old Summer Feeling is about sweating so much that your shirt is actually a major salt water body, comparable to the Indian Ocean. It’s about running out of deodorants first and clothes second. It’s about flapping your shirt to cool off. It’s about wishing you could pant like a dog to beat the heat without it being socially awkward. It’s about having loads of rooh-afzaa and thinking you’re Dracula.

That Old Summer Feeling is back again and I want to enjoy it while it lasts.