So I got this in my sando genji covered chest:
Three months ago, out of whim (that's hujure bangali for you guys) I really really thought I had a shot in national team. lol. So I penned this blasting emotional passion filled mental strength rah-rah inbox having connected with a coach. (Won't mention his name: it was Heath Streak; and certainly don't recommend bothering any coach for that matter).
Well, guess what he connected with me. And that was it.
Months later, I get a kind inbox from him saying that he is back in Zimbabwe and he is really not the man who can help me.
Murali in this story is simple. At first, I really rode on my luck. But the fact is if you really really really want something, heavens will move mountains to make doorway for you. I used to get jittery like a teen bopper thinking what would be like to get a reply from him or MC Hammer, but finally I did.
And it worked out best, because now the whim faded and I realized cricket is not for me. Male film industry is where I should be and at.