All the Way to Brazil -- The Greatest World Cup

I've never been in love.

It all started when I returned home one evening. Drenched in sweet sweat of the society football match. Dad, without a word or expression, handed me my score sheet. 37% overall in 11^th class. No harsh words, no yelling, no melodrama. He walked away calmly. Next morning I said sorry to him. He replied ‘Don’t say sorry to me, son. Instead ask yourself the question: Who do you really want to be’. His voice so peaceful, words so piercing. ‘You can go have your breakfast’. He said & went back to his Dickens novel. He had lived a disciplined life. My father had always put his family before his dreams.

That day I missed my breakfast; I packed my football shoes in a box & decided it was time to change. I grew up instantaneously that day. I became an old man. I was 16.

I’m 37 now.

In those 21 years I made it to IIT, Bombay & went on to study at MIT, Massachusetts, USA. Got hired at TCS on an astronomical salary.

Mum found a girl for me & said animatedly ‘She’s so beautiful, she’ll make you fall in love with her’. I didn’t say anything. I didn’t say anything when 3 months later I got married to my mum’s choice of girl. I was 24. Shriya was 22.

Because both of us were stupid, I became a father at 25. And again at 27, and again at 29. Money wasn’t a concern; I had made a fortune at TCS. At 29 I was already in the top management. In the last eight years I have headed project after project. Seen more success than Cristiano Ronaldo. Seen TCS break into Top Ten of the World. I’m a very successful man by any standards. Everyone is proud of me. I’ve never cheated on my wife. I’ve never missed or forgotten our anniversaries or my kid’s birthdays. I’ve lived a disciplined life, unwavering. I swim & do judo. I can give army men a run for their money. I never abuse, never. And I never lie. I don’t even crack jokes. I don’t drink alcohol or smoke. I’m a vegetarian who believes in God. I’m utterly non-violent. And I don’t cry. Real men don’t cry.

Everyone around me loves me. Everyone wants to be me. Then why do I feel so empty. ? Why can’t I feel love?

On my 37^th b’day on June 11^th I couldn’t sleep. I found it difficult to breath. I walked out of my luxurious house in Nariman Point, Bombay at 4:47am. I didn’t take out my Audi. I walked till I saw a double-decker bus. I boarded it to no destination in particular. I got down randomly & bought a newspaper.

For the 1^st time in 2 decades, instead of Financial Times, I bought a tabloid newspaper. Instead of starting from the front, I pulled open the sports section. Football World Cup: 3 days to go. Carnival awaits you in Brazil. I put down the paper on the pavement & sat down. It was 5:31am on a Wednesday morning. I got up & hailed an auto-rickshaw to my house.

I ran straight to the basement & started flipping through the piles of neatly assembled boxes. It took me a while but I found them. I opened the box & there they were: my football studs. They still had the mud stuck to them. 21 years I hadn’t seen them. ‘What an idiot, what a fucking idiot’. Tears gushed out uncontrollably. I sat down against the wall clutching my shoes.

For the first time in two decades I was about to listen to my heart. I wondered how my heart was still alive. I knew what I had to do. I needed a plan. I needed a lie. I needed to think out-of-the-box. I needed to take a risk. I was breaking all my rules. Felt weirdly liberating.

I was scheduled to take my still beautiful wife & three kids to the movies & dinner for my b’day. I didn’t. I had an emergency meeting to attend in Delhi. Well, that’s what I told them. I got dressed in my Tom Ford suit & off I went in my Jaguar.

I booked my flight tickets for Brazil on my personal American Express card. I wasn’t going for one, two, three matches. I was going for the whole tournament. Next task: tickets for the matches. I knew a guy, who knew a guy. I lied to him, saying the tickets were for a nephew who’s a football fanatic. I paid thrice the original price of the tickets.

Now the big question was: How to explain to my wife that I will be disappearing for a month. I didn’t want to tell her (or anyone) the truth because I didn’t want to share this with anyone. I wanted one month of my life for me, for my exhumed dreams.

I came up with a few quirky ideas: Hey, wifey I’ve been selected for Mars One mission. Baby, I’m going to climb Mt. Everest. Listen, sweetheart I’m going to the jungles to meditate in silence for a month. Don’t tell no one but I’ve been commissioned to be a Jason Bourne-style undercover agent for CIA. Or simply disappear from the face of earth only to return in 30 days & announce in a press conference that I was kidnapped by the terrorists. Maoists or Al Qaeda. Take your pick.

I took a month’s leave of absence from work on personal grounds & (firmly) requested to not to be contacted till I resume office.

I (lied) told my wife I’ve been selected to be part of a path breaking research program at the National Aeronautics & Space Administration (NASA). Seriously. And will be totally off limits for a month. She believed me as I never lie. Wow. That night we made love, our first in a month & a half.

Do I love my wife? If what I feel for her is love then I don’t understand what’s all the fuss is about. Does she love me? She doesn’t even know me. Even I don’t know me. But I’m about to find out.

Next day I took the flight to States to avoid suspicion. One whole day later I was in Sao Paulo for the 1^st match: Brazil vs. Croatia. Brazil survived courtesy a dodgy penalty that saw the end of international career for the Japanese referee, Nishimura. I almost died of happiness during the match. I was in Brazil amidst mad people, alive people.

Next day I was at Salvador for the clash of the titans: Defending Champions España vs. Finalists the Dutch. Another shocking penalty gave Spain the lead but then got bulldozed by the avalanche of Oranje. 5-1, Holland crushed them. Van Persie kick started the massacre with the “Header of the Century”.

Suarez was declared unfit for Uruguay’s match against Costa Rica (CR) – perhaps his teeth weren’t “bite-ready”. It proved fatal; CR thrashed Suarez-less Uruguay 3-1. CR was just getting warmed up. On the same night England played real well, and lost to Italy. Argentina played poorly against Bosnia, but won. Messi scored after 8 years & I witnessed it. Heavenly. I recalled my long buried love for Argentina & how sad I became when Maradona’s team lost to Germany in 1990 final.

Next day Ballon D’or, European Champion & funky hair-style diva Cristiano Ronaldo’s Portugal was deep fried by the Germans: 4-0. At the end of the match German coach picked his nose & shook hands with Ronaldo (without wiping). Eeew. Selecao (Brazil) were again mediocre & drew 0-0 against Mexico. Mexico’s goalkeeper was like Superman throughout, not allowing Brazil to score. But scored a marriage proposal from a top model.

Champions Spain lost to Chile & became the first team to be booted out of the Cup. Suarez returned to haunt England by scoring twice. Italy got killed by Costa Rica. Iran frustrated the hell out of La Albiceleste (Argentina) before Messi curled in a magical ball to win it for the Blue stripes. USA had all but beaten Portugal but for a last minute heart-breaking equalizer from a Ronaldo assist. Uruguay beat Italy; kicking Italy out in Round 1 for the second time running. Tantrum-boy Italian superstar Balotelli threw his routine fit about how life is so unfair. Suarez didn’t score against Italy, instead nibbled on Chellini’s shoulder. FIFA banned him for 4 months & forbid him from training or entering match venues like he was a mass murderer. Whoa!. Talk about life not being fair. Breaking News: Barcelona bought Suarez for over $100 million. Bite that, Suarez.

Ronaldo led Portugal beat Ghana in their final match & still managed to get thrown out. Ronaldo was officially the most frustrated player of the World Cup. Messi in contrast won 3 back-to-back Man of the Match awards & his team won all their matches to top the group.

Pre-quarters were mostly annoying & scrappy affair, putting people to sleep. All the big teams struggling then eventually all qualifying for the quarters.

Brazil beat Colombia in quarters but Neymar broke his third vertebra to a clumsy kneed challenge by Zu-nee-ga. It was to prove decisive. French fought till the end against a magnificent German side. Eventually losing 1-0, honourably. Holland was dragged to the penalties by Costa Rica. Man United-bound Louis Van Gaal substituted his goalkeeper right before the penalties. A masterstroke.

Higuan scored early for Argentina & it was enough to take them through to their first semi-final since Maradona did in 1990.

Pure demolition happened in the first semi-final. German Army butchered a mentally frail Brazilian team 7-1. A holocaust. Brazil cried all night. They’ll be crying for a long time to come. Holland vs. Argentina was a dour game, unpleasing to the eye. Argentina eventually beating the Dutch on penalties.

In the Grand Finale at the Mecca of football: Maracaña Stadium, it was Argentina who got the best chances & they squandered them all until Germany’s Mario Gotze’s brilliant chest-and-volley in extra-time killed Argentina’s dream. Germans ‘deservedly’ became the World Champions. Their fourth title overall. My heart cried for Messi & Co. but my heart also knew true justice has been done.

That night I joined the Germans & Brazilians on the sparklingly loud streets of Rio. I screamed like hooligans. I ate beef steak, pork chops & god knows what all. I smoked up, drank whatever was offered to me & kissed a girl whose name I forgot to ask. And eventually fell asleep on a bench in the heart of the city.

When I woke up a (gorgeous) Brazilian girl offered me coffee with a smile & a wink. I gleeful accepted.

My dream trip was complete. Everything had changed. All the morals & rules I lived by were broken. And I felt love. I felt it even on the uncomfortable metallic bench, in those hundreds of thousand eyes around me. I felt love in ‘all of me’.

When I returned home I gathered my three kids, my wife & hugged them. We all cried like idiots. A never before moment. I sat my kids down & told them what every father must.

‘I want you to find yourself, find who you truly are. Not be scared to fail, to falter, to fall down. Life is worthless without failure, without falling in love. Forget to sleep but never forget to dream. Because no matter how much money, fame, adulation you’ll achieve in life, it’ll mean nothing if you don’t feel love. Believe me, I’ve lived without love all my life & it’s shit’. Like a little girl I wept again. They all came close to me & joined me in being a little girl.

I found love. We found love.