Wonders of Diwali

Wonders of Knockouts

    It’s a privilege to be in India during Diwali, the Festival of Lights, which was officially today but has been pre-empting itself for at least three days. They call them ‘crackers’ over here but many of them are as loud as bombs. Local Indian delight has been enhanced by the sight of me diving for cover in innocuous locations. Donut shop was the latest.

    A welter of electronic media requests to preview the semi-final against Australia have obstructed my already busy days keeping my room bug-free, buying water and washing undies. Brilliant producers, from around the world, have kept my number for many years. They all appreciate my expertise. They are all grateful. None of them offer a contribution.

    Diwali is a time for families to reunite so the streets are surprisingly quiet, unlike New Years celebrations. There is a peaceful, gentleness to the celebration, too, with an abundance of flowers and creative lighting, not that fairy-lights are in short supply at any other time.

    While the Proteas took their time packing to travel to Kolkata, there was a rare day-off to ramble-run through Mumbai. The famous Churchgate Train Station was everything you would imagine, a hub of bustle and organised chaos. Twice I witnessed kindly staff ushering bewildered passengers onto the correct train, and I was only there for five minutes.

    Marine Drive was my ultimate destination but I opted for gut-feel ahead of Google maps. You go in the wrong direction for long periods but you see things which might otherwise have avoided you.

    South Africa are in their fifth World Cup semi-final, third against Australia. The first was infamously tied in 1999. The other, equally infamously and humiliatingly lost in St.Lucia in 2007.

    Let’s chat more about that tomorrow, and how this team may be faring ‘mentally’. Not that I’m an expert. Just a witness and wounded victim. For 28 years.

    +Many, many thanks to everyone who has been so generous in buying coffees in recent weeks. May I humbly suggest you consider a ‘one-coffee per month’ subscription? It’ll save you the digital grrmph and, you know, you can always cancel it if I’m rubbish after the World Cup.