The curious case of Rana Naved ul http://www.senore.com/Cricket/Hasan-c61990
It was a dark, misty night. Rats scurried past the sewer lines scouring for food. In the basement of a dark room the silhouette of a man appeared wearing a lab coat, in what looked like his laboratory. With steaming pots and beakers, a pungent odour pervading in the surroundings, but the scientist, or what looked like a scientist laughed a shrill evil laugh. He was a mad scientist.
He was about to make his greatest of creations, a baby boy using chemical x. He had used all the right amounts of chemicals, and now it was time to put chemical x into what was a putrid blackish gooey substance. The drop fell, and ... BOOM!! The lab exploded bits and pieces flying in the air. The mad scientist was buried under some rubble unhurt. He opened his eyes and looked around for the baby boy, but his creation was nowhere to be found until, he heard the voice of an old man.
“Who may you be?” a voice said.
Mr. Mad Scientist looked around to see a bald old man, ugly, holding a hard ball in his hand.
“I be Ranaa” he said, and later added, “Rana, Rana Terror, who be you?”
“I am Ijaz.... http://www.senore.com/Cricket/Ijaz-Butt-c64128 007.” The mad scientist said.
And so it began the journey of the man they called Rana Terror, who was born an old man. He grew younger, every day he felt better. Ijaz Butt 007 took care of his very own Rana, fed him with his own hands. Soon, they developed a father son relationship. Butt always knew that his creation was a little weird and not the best looking. Sometimes Rana scared kids off with his bald spot that looked like a freshly powdered baby’s bottom, and aunties sprayed pepper spray on the shiny bald spot since they thought that the old man was mooning at them.
Nonetheless, he grew younger and younger, and with the passage of time a few hair had appeared on his shiny head. He was very proud of them and so was Mr Butt. Mr Butt decided, that since he was born backwards, grew younger; his career must follow in the same way. So when he was 40, Butt decided to announce his retirement. Thus he became the first man to get retired before beginning his career, and it marked the start of a glorious career. Soon after, Rana was married and gave birth to beautiful little kids. He had to take a paternity leave from cricket for 9 months.
Rana Naved was in the habit of going against the flow, hence he made sure, that every match that his team was about to win is sabotaged by his majesty and eventually lost. And all the lost games he helped lose too, but in this case he bowled very well. He became a part of Pakistan cricket but people don’t seem to know a lot about this mysterious man, who’s still growing new hair. There are lots of rumours and speculations about his origins, and whereabouts once he leaves the field. People know little about his life outside of cricket.
Some say he lives in the crop fields all over the world and when he farts, he creates crop circles. Some say his skin has the texture of a dolphin and if you tune your radios to a particular frequency, you can actually hear his thoughts playing. Legend has it that in ancient Africa, the same man named Rana used to cry adhesive tears, used for construction purposes and that once he was set on fire, he kept burning for a 1000 years.
His team mates note that his bowling is so fast that it breaks open another dimension and freezes time. Obviously the ball never reaches the batsman. They also note that when he goes for batting his right hand turns into a wooden bat, and that it is an extension of his bone just like wolverine. Soon, this mysterious man would be too young to play for http://www.senore.com/Cricket/Pakistan-c755 cricket, but let us cherish his time with Pakistan. Pakistani fans are hoping that during his latest visit to England, he would bowl so fast that it would open the black hole and suck the English team in. For us, mere mortals, he is none other than the curious case of Rana Naved ul Hasan.
(All facts and opinions used in this article are not true and form part of the writer’s imagination)
Tags: