Errr....

The breeze was like a raging stream, flooding through the narrow, snaky streets of Poitiers. The 10 degree C wind with nigh a touch of moisture hit his already dry and parched face like a block of dry ice. Winter was setting in. And it would get progressively worse. Till it reached a point where the French, enjoying a 'bright day' all around him, would fire up the heaters, down the shutters, and disappear into hibernation. He remembered the previous morning and laughed to himself at what lay in store. Waiting in front of class, he had been greeted by the Professor. "Ca va?" Teeth chattering and his whole body shivering like a leaf, he had managed to say something that sounded like "Bit… col.. outhere". The man's you-ain't-seen-nothing-yet smile  spoke for him.

But strangely, his reaction to the temperature dropping to a single digit was decidedly different from the last couple of days when it had dilly dallied between ten and fifteen. There was no jacket today. The shivering was absent from his gait and the relaxed jaw showed no signs of chattering. He seemed just as impervious to it as the other street dwellers were. What was it about the 30th of September that was drowning out the effect of an alien climate?

His school was half way around the block. His mind, was halfway around the World. A billion people, two of the oldest cultures in the World, with the most complicated and difficult of pasts between them and the land that's seen it and borne it all for centuries, stood still and waited with bated breath. 6 centuries after the first brick was placed, 60 years after the first idol was placed, 18 years after the multicultural fabric was ripped apart beyond repair, India awaits. It would be settled today. Would it be settled today? No, lemme rephrase it. Would it be settled today? If so, then would it be settled today? Digging up Ayodhya is done. Now the grave digging begins.

He paused for a second. Was that what was making him impervious to the cold? The anxiety of what was happening back home? Fear of what was to be unleashed on his country? The 'yes' from his mouth was drowned by the 'no' from his mind.

"Of course I care!"

"Yeah right. Pull the other leg, Naldo!"

Much as he wanted to believe otherwise, much as he tried to bring up instances to prove otherwise, in spite of all the patriotic hormones that he tried generating, he knew it was a losing battle. Somewhere in him, with roots deep enough survive the storm of 30/9 was the undeniable fact. That he didn't care. At least, not enough to be oblivious to what was happening around him.

He walked into the school, relishing the warm atmosphere. Though he hadn't felt much outside, this was where he wanted to be. His mind strayed from the dimly lit corridors of the school to the muddy, unpaved streets of Ayodhya that he had never seen.

"Salut!", he turned to see the face he had seen enough times to remember in class.

"Salu……" , as it turned out, not enough times to remember her name. "How are you doing today?"

"I'm good. How are you? Nice party last night?"

"I wasn't there. I saw the mail from the organizers… guess I'm too old for that stuff! "

She laughed, betraying the mockery ill-concealed beneath the humor. Well, one couldn't really argue that he didn't deserve it.

"Er… I read something on the internet yesterday. Some mosque judgment today in India?"

Sigh! "Yeah. Big day back home. Lotta security, communal tension and all that stuff. It's gonna be out in a few hours.Kinda nervous about the whole thing"

"What is it all about?"

He had tried many times and failed to imitate the French way of doing "poof!", the reaction that you get when you ask them something complicated. This time, he nailed it. "It's… kinda complicated. Six centuries old story."

His hunch about what that kind of a party does to people's heads was vindicated when she, with a look not unlike the perennial 'spark' on Paris Hilton's face said "Tell me tell me!"

"OK, I'll give you an analogy first."

"An anal….?", her eyes popped ever so little but that was enough.

"No no! It's not… that. Analogy means… er… something similar. An example."

"Ah. Yeah. Example. " The Hiltonian expression returns.

What example can I give? He thought. Ofcourse! When in doubt, talk football! "OK, imagine that England and France are one country."

"Oui"

"Now, Bobby Charlton, British legend. Thierry Henry. French legend. Remember, both of them belong to the same country now. Imagine that an asteroid struck the Earth after Charlton retired and all records of his achievements are lost. The new generation just knows that a legendary player called Charlton existed and played for Britance. A new stadium is built in Normandy and they name it Bobby Charlton Arena. Thierry Henry hits the World stage and becomes the legend that he is. And retires eventually. His followers decide that Charlton is just a myth ('cos there's no proof of his existence) and rename the stadium in Normandy, Thierry Henry Arena. Centuries pass. Bobby Charlton and Thierry Henry are long dead after unforgettable careers and fulfilling lives. One fine day, Charlton's followers put his pictures on the emblem  of Thierry Henry Arena. Both parties clash. Thousands die. The stadium is shut down. Decades later, Charlton's followers destroy the stadium's Henry emblem, with an intent to put a new Charlton emblem on it. Both parties clash, thousands die. Things can never, ever, be the same between the two sides again. And today, the court in Normandy is going to decide whose face will decorate the emblem and whose name will grace the stadium. And whatever they decide, both sides will clash. And thousands will die.'

The Hilton look was gone but… that's all one could've said about the look on her face. "And?"

"And that's it! In a nut shell."

"But… it's just a game. And a name!"

Was it?? "I wish it were that simple. The side that loses, loses face. They'll feel humiliated."

"So why can't they have two stadia?"

"One next to the other? They'll kill each other in half a day."

"OK then... have the other at some other place!"
"Can't do that. Henry and Charlton were both born in Normandy. It has to be there."

"Er… so what are they gonna do about it?"

He shrugged. A billion people waited for the answer. "What would you do?"

"Er…" The 'rrrrr' has lasted for 60 years. Does it end today?