Virat Kohli - 'A single malt trapped in a beer can'

One of the most pleasing sights in modern cricket is Virat Kohli striding imperiously on the 22 yards. One of the most distressing spectacles in modern sport is Virat Kohli straddling insecurely in what was earlier home.

For he is indeed the finest of the breed, a timeless classic choosing this passage of time as if divine largesse on hungry mortals. His demeanor though has always been relentlessly rooted, a graceful classicist with the willow, but otherwise a stodgy streetfighter, combining Rocky Bilbao and Luciano Pavarotti quite easily. It is this clearly combative streak that set him apart from past Indian leaders, surely a notch ahead of even Ganguly in blatant aggression, and the results are rather apparent.

But then, of late, a phase seemingly endless, he has clearly been off the grid, searching stoically for familiar signals of connectivity, that crafted his glorious past.

Most concerningly, this is true across the formats, so blame cannot be accorded purely on the frivolous T20 cauldron. His test match efforts have been rather patchy, laden with distressing potholes, and the brief spells of sunshine never adding up to continuous daylight. The T20 story is even more sordid, as the maestro is compelled to break bread with modest part-timers, with just the muscular capacity to assassinate the cricket ball.

What's sad is the incredulity on his face, indeed the entire body, when he fails, which is rather frequent nowadays. What's sadder is the amplified delight when he succeeds, truthfully very modestly by his colossal standards. One suspects, that not just officials, but even fans are praying for imminent retirement, a tough ask considering his gladiatorial fitness. Any decent watcher of the game, when pressed to objectivity, will concur that he should not be a part of the T20 World Cup team - even a 'successful' foray of 50 in 45 deliveries dangerously passive in that bullet train arena.

Which is exactly why I sincerely feel that he is indeed a single malt, peaty and fiery, trapped in an assembly line beer can. The latter being the game of cricket in present times, where some seminal changes have marred or embellished its soul, depending on your poison. The cult of abbreviation, not just in formats but also in desirable skill, as fellows capable of perhaps three signature shots or deliveries, lay claim to be sound statesmen. Further, in terms of impact & influence spans, the equivalency of Andy Warhol's 15 seconds of fame extends to three seasons maybe four, quite like a short service commission. Test matches appear rarely, like pollution-free days in the Delhi winter, and even then, it is surely challenging for the multi-tasker to quickly readjust.

For a moment, imagine the craft of Imtiaz Quereshi, of Dumpukht fame, being put to test against the biryani assembly lines of the delivery age, an unfair but defensible comparison - lower price points, shallow discernment, and the rise of optimality making them candidly competitive. The finest pizzerias of the universe often struggle to keep up with Domino's, once again on T20 parameters, as customers want more for less.

Unlike say classical musicians, of any genre, who still perform their traditional routines to full capacity, the shorter playful thumris acting as the icing and not the pastry. Actors from Bollywood and Hollywood are embracing OTT avenues, but still on the long play format, sliced minutely only for viewer convenience.

In my limited view, I do believe that Virat Kohli's issues are entirely psychological, from many a parallel perspective. One, of course, is a sense of holistic arrival, lovely family in tow, and surely the demise of financial ambitions. Second, quite like Rajesh Khanna after Namak Haram, he has been dethroned but in this case, by many moderates who are capturing popular fancy, and this can seriously upset true talent. Three, and most interestingly, the body is majorly willing and giving an unfair impression of managing the perils of the mind, so matching the strike rates of Ishan Kishan becomes the dangerous default game to play.

In an imaginative perspective, the sherry cask single malt must return to the original trappings, of purity and elegance, while not attempting to be a daily lager, however illustrious. In cricketing terms, this may mean a swansong in test cricket and select ODIs, and abhorring consciously the melee of the T20 mela. Else a petty performance catastrophe, like Yuvraj Singh against Sri Lanka, may well cost him his exquisite crown.