THE CURSE OF VIPLAV VINOD 1/2

When I got up this morning, a very unfamiliar face greeted me. A benign, smiling face…..yet sooo unfamiliar! 

The 19-year-old, half-steel half-flesh humanoid introduced herself as my greatx8 grand daughter, or my tenth generation!

 I was yet to get over the shock when another one greeted me. I had woken up in a mega transparent capsule with nature visible in all its glory….but was too stunned to appreciate it.

I was later told that capsule’s  radius was about 100 metres, with a huge temperature bar on the roof giving a reading of 25 degree Celsius. I was told that the outside temperature, at 63 degree, was on the lower side. It was the coolest phase of the winter and, to my utter bewilderment, it was the winter of, believe it or not, 2314.  Globalisation had finally taken its toll, but the humanity had survived in mega capsules floating on the mighty and cruel waves of the sea.

Was I dreaming! If I was, I could not have waited to get up. Where was my immediate family. I was informed, after a brief counselling to soothe my nerves, that they were long gone after waiting for me to wake up for decades. They waited in vain since that fateful day of March 20, 2014, when Viplav Vinod, whose name itself is a contradiction of terms, had cursed me to 300 years of sleep.

Well. No revenge was possible. Viplav  was long gone too after creating  (call it mayhem, anarchy or whatever you like) in my life. And his facebook account was gone too, courtesy the now-in-force strict policy for the dead. So no revenge was possible as well -- either verbal or written.

I was in great distress, experiencing the bouts of amazements at the same time, at the strange term of events. I was cursing viplav all the time. Wish he had realised that his curse of 300 years of sleep, had, somehow, come true, and so tragically for me.  (MORE TO COME)

(hole-won format one)

While Basra's application (and I – atul sondhi -  won’t ever hear any Sardarji jokes after seeing the results of Basra’s cute application!)  is nice in its speed and  transparency, I strongly, sincerely, and unequivocally suggest that LET US NOT GET LIMITED BY OUR LIMITATIONS as we trudge through the finely cut grass of the DSC mini-golf course. Otherwise, the sacrifice of numerous insects, who have been clubbed to death by our Irons, and, I dare say, balls, will have gone in vain

This round format with cumulative scoring, which we implement so gladly/happily, is in fact so much inferior to the hole-won format, especially at a course which does not tend to reward adventurous stroke play. 

If we want to improve our game, and eventually enter the `golfing hall of fame' of Dwarka Sports Complex, we got to switch to a new format. There are solid reasons for it.  (more to follow today, tomorrow or the day after)