“We are
going to Wimbledon” I announced.
“We are
already in Wimbledon” my DW responded. Do you get the feeling that your DW or
darling wife doesn’t understand you? I do. And I know I am not alone in feeling
so, though very few will have the courage to admit. Love is not just blind, it
is also dumb!
“I mean we
are going to All England Club where they hold the famous and the oldest tennis tournament
in the world.”
“Oh! I
understood, you don’t have to explain so much. Are you taking me to the centre
court?”
“Wait here.
Let me take your snap outside this court.”
“Oh wow! You
took this snap?”
“You look like a European!”
“Oh shut up!
I have been watching tennis and some things about tennis have always puzzled
me.”
“Like?”
“Like why do
they call ‘love’ when there is no score?”
“I think
people all over the world have always projected the lover as a defeated person.
Don’t you remember ‘Devdas?’ This aspect the British must have officially
recognised by calling ‘love’ when the player has no score.”
“And why do
they call the third point ‘forty’ when logically it should have been
forty-five, coming sequentially after fifteen and thirty.”
“Oh! Don’t
ask me why. I can explain ‘how’ the sun shines, with the helium-hydrogen
chakkar, but not ‘why’ the sun shines. And I can’t explain why the score is
called forty. That’s the rule! That’s the management policy! It has no
reason!!!”
“I knew you
won’t know. Ok. I think ‘forty’ rhymes so well with ‘thirty.’”
“You mean
there is poetry to it?”
“You said
there is ‘love’ to it! So poetry will go well.”
“Hmmm….”
“You know
what? You should never fall in love with a tennis player.”
“Why? What
do you mean?”
“And never
in love with a table tennis player.”
“This is
getting interesting…”
“And never
ever in love with a badminton player!”
“Now, now!
What are you saying?”
“Obviously
to them love means zero. That has implications you see…..”
Vivek