It is a finely nuanced idea. Killing is a brutal thing to do; we can't take responsibility for it, so we put it under the vague rubric of instincts. We don't kill, genes do. Or if that won't do as an excuse, herds do. (For example, the Nazis.) A nation doesn't, after all, murder other nations (at the most its leaders, fringe groups et al do the hatchet work), it fights a war. Wars are public things, murder is private.

So, why don't our particular herds of teams war well? Why can't a player take a deep breath of rivalry, surge forward from the mid-fields of passion, elude the opposition with native guts, craft and well-oiledplan, and just as the moment bids, shoot, for God's sake or for country's sake, but shoot.But, whose game is it?

If in Rome citizens rooted for more blood on the gladiators' arena, modern spectators want something all the more risky and risque (depending on the sport) every day. Or they will hit the remote button. That is a threat, for event organisers, media moghuls, for anyone who is anyone in the carnival. And it is heeded. There is more colour, there is more speed, there is even more sensory titillation in cricket, a game that stayed dour till it was played over five days.

So, why do you Indian players deprive us of it? Where is your killer instinct? Why do you stay in your dressing room? Come out, be extroverted! Do you know the British beat us because we slept during the hot summers? And someone, very famous, was playing chess (there was a film made on it) while the city was burning. Let us get rid of this Indian culture which doesn't foster a killer instinct. Quick.

So, let's get our instincts atonce. It is the easiest thing to do; just don't rein in. Let there be competitive politics, competitive industry, competitive sport, competitive farming, and if our annual incomes rise enough to give each one of us a home, let there be competitive housing.

The problem with this country is that it's too old to be childish. It can't strut round, saying See-Mine-Is-Better. That goes against its grain. It enjoins rather that you admire the other as better (even if it isn't and the other is begging for praise) and forget the ego. The killer instinct, on the other hand, is a dramatic way to do away with someone else's.

Why did Hitler kill the Jews? He didn't like them. Why did team A win over team B? The reasons, and the sports, if one may say so, are dissimilar. One would suppose, then, that their aims were not confused as well. Glory in war may mean honour for the nation, defeat in sport isn't its disgrace.

Besides, this is a poor country. Its priorities are found in dirty streets and unclean hovels; not atLords. And, finally, it has defined honour or glory in the context of an anti-world view. It rejects an outer world, in fact, terms it the mere sport of a cosmic overlord. It rejects the individual, gives him no hope of a personal triumph, unless it is in an absorption with anything greater than itself.

It says, in short, that the incidents of life are mere play, don't let them get you down. Assert yourself, do battle. There can be no final defeat si-nce there is a succession of miserable plays planned for you. You have to win one. Victory is axiomatic. Play on.