The Art of Jas!

Incredible, stunning, marvellous, jaw-dropping, sensational – nah! I have been trying to sum up that Jasprit Bumrah delivery to Ollie Pope for some hours now. And just like Pope himself, I have come up with nothing – empty, helpless, and dumbfounded. What on earth was that? Seriously, that Bumrah delivery boggled my mind and had me wondering about all the four ‘W’s and one ‘H’ of journalism – What was that? Where did it come from? Why am I still thinking about it? When will I get over it? And most importantly, how the flying fuck did he do that? It was like a quick punch to the gut. A hit so hard yet so subtle that all you can muster is a silent ouch but it blinds you with pain.

That’s why Jasprit Bumrah is an artist and clubbing him with other pacers is not fair. Pace bowlers come from different gharanas – some bring the threat of pace, some master the swing, a few extract movement off the track. Nowadays a lot specialises in slower ones, a rare few can rifle in the yorker on demand.

Then, there is Bumrah. An artist so rare who doesn’t need the wickets to assist him or the conditions to aid his craft. He cooks, and he cooks in his own ethereal oven. It’s different gravy! A classic 150 km/hour Bumrah spell feels like an overnight slow cooked Nihari – you can smell the cinnamon, feel the punch of the oil, the texture of the soup leaves you flabbergasted and the meat so tender that it just falls off the bones. It’s difficult to replicate. Yet he does it. Over and over again. Without missing a beat. Without any adulteration.

I feel for Pope. I really do. It was not cool. Breaching a defence is fine, but blasting through Pope’s as if his technique didn’t matter must have left him distraught. It shouldn’t happen to anyone. But there are certain Bumrah things that are out of any batsman’s control. And we all have watched enough of the Indian pace ace to know that in the next Test, he’s capable of producing another banger! Maybe even better than this one. Wait..is that even possible? Ask Bumrah man, we are mere mortals. We don’t have the skills of a master craftsman, nor do we possess the vision of an artist. We know he hobbles for a bit, then sort of runs in, then jumps a bit weirdly, puts his hand up really awkwardly and then…we stand up and keep admiring until he drops the next unforgettable Bumrah moment.

I feel for Yashasvi Jaiswal as well. He was sensational and played the innings of his lifetime. But that Bumrah delivery has now turned his epic into an opening act. Even Ben Stokes went ‘what’s the fucking point of anything’ when Bumrah Salt Bae-ed a sprinkle of his magic on him.

I was present at Eden Gardens when Shoaib Akhtar steamed in to uproot Rahul Dravid and Sachin Tendulkar in back-to-back deliveries. Did India win the Test? I can’t remember. Who scored the most runs? I definitely don’t recall. Did Shoaib take a five-for? I have no clue. But I can still picture Dravid’s flying leg stump and Tendulkar’s middle stump cartwheeling off to leg gully. I can still feel the heaviness in the crowd, still hear the collective gasp, and the hush that followed when Shoaib spread his wings for his ‘full eagle’ celebration.

Bumrah doesn’t really care about the showmanship, nor is he big on celebrations. He’s understated, dignified, and creates his masterpieces without much fuss or fury. He’s once again put India in the driver’s seat and they should walk the Test from here on. Then again, who cares? 10 years from now, none of us will remember if it became 1-1 or 2-0. Maybe some of us will recall the Jaiswal double ton, but be rest assured, that Bumrah rocket will have its separate fanbase and we all will sit up straight and feel the goosebumps while describing it to a kid who’s just taken to the game. Watch this, we will say.

I bet Ollie Pope will do the same as well!