TRAVESTY OF JUSTICE, SREESANTH AND MISUSE OF MCOCA – CAPT AJIT VADAKAYIL

TRUTH AND THE TIME AXIS,  IPL BETTING SPOT FIXING,  ENDLESS SPOT FIXING BY FOREIGN FUNDED INDIAN MEDIA,  DESH DROHI VERSUS SPOT FIXER OF A CIRCUS CLUB CRICKET MATCH - CAPT AJIT VADAKAYIL

How many of you know that truth must include the time axis.  

Hundreds of con-men have  misused the 

time scale to subvert justice.

Is it possible to marry a silent video of a cricketer with a towel tucked in his pants as a signal , to a telephone audio recording , without knowing which happened first— the audio byte or the video shot?

Let me cut and paste a Sidney Sheldon novel ( If tomorrow comes ) scene.  It is about a con-man , who does NOT know how to play chess  on a cruise ship who played with  two chess grandmasters to make moolah.  He made an ass out of everybody on the ship.

QUOTE

"Were you serious about Melnikov and Negulesco?"

"Absolutely. Why?"

"I think they both need a lesson in manners."

"So do I. And we'll make money while we teach them."

"Good. What's your plan?"

"You're going to beat them at chess."

"I'm serious."

"So am I"

"I told you, I don't play chess. I don't know a pawn from a king. I---" "Don't worry," Jeff promised her. "A couple of lessons from me, and you'll slaughter them both."

"Both?"

"Oh, didn't I tell you? You're going to play them simultaneously." 

**********

Jeff was seated next to Boris Melnikov in the. Double Down Piano Bar. "The woman is a fantastic chess player," Jeff confided to Melnikov. "She's traveling incognito."

The Russian grunted. "Women know nothing about chess. They cannot think." "This one does. She says she could beat you easily."

Boris Melnikov laughed aloud. "Nobody beats me--- easily or not." "She's willing to bet you ten thousand dollars that she can play you and Pietr Negulesco at the same time and get a draw with at least one of you."

Boris Melnikov choked on his drink. 

"What! That's--- that's ridiculous! Play two of us at the same time? This--- this female amateur?"

"That's right. For ten thousand dollars each."

"I should do it just to teach the stupid idiot a lesson."

"If you win, the money will be deposited in any country you choose." A covetous expression flitted across the Russian's face. 

"I've never even heard of this person. And to play the two of us! My God, she must be insane." "She has the twenty thousand dollars in cash."

"What nationality is she?"

"American."

"Ah, that explains it. All rich Americans are crazy, especially their women." Jeff started to rise. "Well, I guess she'll just have to play Pietr Negulesco alone."

"Negulesco is going to play her?"

"Yes, didn't I tell you? She wanted to play the two of you, but if you're afraid..."

"Afraid! Boris Melnikov afraid?" His voice was a roar. "I will destroy her. When is this ridiculous match to take place?"

"She thought perhaps Friday night. The last night out."

Boris Meinikov was thinking hard. "The best two out of three?" "No. Only one game."

"For ten thousand dollars?"

"That is correct."

The Russian sighed. "I do not have that much cash with me." "No problem," Jeff assured him. "All Miss Whitney really wants is the glory of playing the great Boris Melnikov. If you lose, you give her a personally autographed picture. If you win, you get ten thousand dollars."

"Who holds the stakes?" There was a sharp note of suspicion in his voice.

"The ship's purser."

"Very well," Melnikov decided. "Friday night We will start at ten o'clock, promptly."

"She'll be so pleased," Jeff assured him.

The following morning Jeff was talking to Pietr Negulesco in the gymnasium, where the two men were working out.

"She's an American?" Pietr Negulesco said. "I should have known. All Americans are cuckoo."

"She's a great chess player.."

Pietr Negulesco made a gesture of contempt. "Great is not good enough. Best is what counts. And I am the best."

"That's why she's so eager to play against you. If you lose, you give her an autographed picture. If you win, you get ten thousand dollars in cash..." "Negulesco does not play amateurs."

"...deposited in any country you like."

"Out of the question."

"Well, then, I guess she'll have to play only Boris Melnikov." "What? Are you saying Melnikov has agreed to play against this woman?" "Of course. But she was hoping to play you both at once." "I've never heard of anything so--- so---"

Negutesco sputtered, at a loss for words. "The arrogance!

Who is she that she thinks she can defeat the two top chess masters in the world? She must have escaped from some lunatic asylum." "She's a little erratic," Jeff confessed, "but her money is good. All cash." "You said ten thousand dollars for defeating her?"

"That's right."

"And Boris Meinikov gets the same amount?"

"If he defeats her."

Pietr Negulesco grinned. "Oh, he will defeat her. And so will I." "Just between us, I wouldn't be a bit surprised."

"Who will hold the stakes?"

"The ship's purser."

Why should Melnikov be the only one to take money from this woman? thought Pietr Negutesco.

"My friend, you have a deal. Where and when?"

"Friday night. Ten o'clock. The Queen's Room."

Pietr Negulesco smiled wolfishly. "I will be there."

**********

"You mean they agreed?" Tracy cried.

"That's right."

"I'm going to be sick."

"I'll get you a cold towel."

Jeff hurried into the bathroom of Tracy's suite, ran cold water on a towel, and brought it back to her. She was lying on the chaise longue. He placed the towel on her forehead.

"How does that feel?"

"Terrible. I think I have a migraine."

"Have you ever had a migraine before?"

"No."

"Then you don't have one now. Listen to me, Tracy, it's perfectly natural to be nervous before something like this."

She leapt up and flung down the towel. "Something like this? There's never been anything like this! I'm playing two international master chess players with one chess lesson from you and---"

"Two," Jeff corrected her. "You have a natural talent for chess." "My God, why did I ever let you talk me into this?"

"Because we're going to make a lot of money."

"I don't want to make a lot of money," Tracy wailed. "I want this boat to sink. Why couldn't this be the Titanic?"

"Now, just stay calm," Jeff said soothingly. "It's going to be---" "It's going to be a disaster! Everyone on this ship is going to be watching." 

"That's exactly the point, isn't it?" Jeff beamed.

**********

Jeff had made all the arrangements with the ship's purser.

He had given the purser the stakes to hold--- $20,000 in traveler's checks--- and asked him to set up two chess tables for Friday evening. The word spread rapidly throughout the ship, and passengers kept approaching Jeff to ask if the matches were actually going to take place.

"Absolutely," Jeff assured all who inquired. "It's incredible. Poor Miss Whitney believes she can win. In fact, she's betting on it."

"I wonder," a passenger asked, "If I might place a small bet?" Certainly. As much money as you like. Miss Whitney is asking only ten-to-one odds."

A million-to-one odds would have made more sense. From the moment the first bet was accepted, the floodgates opened. It seemed that everyone on board, including the engine-room crew and the ship's officers, wanted to place bets on the game. 

The amounts varied from five dollars to five thousand dollars and every single bet was on the Russian and the Romanian.

The suspicious purser reported to the captain. "I've never seen anything like it, sir. It's a stampede. Nearly all the passengers have placed wagers. I must be holding two hundred thousand dollars in bets."

The captain studied him thoughtfully. "You say Miss Whitney is going to play Melnikov and Negulesco at the same time?"

"Yes, Captain."

"Have you verified that the two men are really Pietr Negulesco and Boris Melnikov?"

"Oh, yes, of course, sir."

"There's no chance they would deliberately throw the chess game, is there?" "Not with their egos. I think they'd rather die first. And if they lost to this woman, that's probably exactly what would happen to them when they got home."

The captain ran his fingers through his hair, a puzzled frown on his face. "Do you know anything about Miss Whitney or this Mr. Stevens?" "Not a thing, sir. As far as I can determine, they're traveling separately."

The captain made his decision.

"It smells like some kind of con game, and ordinarily I would put a stop to it. However, I happen to be a bit of an expert myself, and if there was one thing I'd stake my life on, it's the fact that there is no way to cheat at chess.

Let the match go on." He walked over to his desk and withdrew a black leather wallet. "Put down fifty pounds for me. On the masters."

**********

By 9:00 Friday evening the Queen's Room was packed with passengers from first class, those who had sneaked in from second and third class, and the ship's officers and members of the crew who were off duty.

At Jeff Stevens's request, two rooms had been set up for the tournament. 

One table was in the center of the Queen's Room, and the other table was in the adjoining salon. Curtains had been drawn to separate the two rooms.

"So that the players aren't distracted by each other,"

Jeff explained. "And we would like the spectators to remain in whichever room they choose." Velvet ropes had been placed around the two tables to keep the crowds back. The spectators were about to witness something they were sure they would never see again. 

They knew nothing about the beautiful young American woman, except that it would be impossible for her--- or anyone else--- to play the great Negulesco and Melnikov simultaneously and obtain a draw with either of them. Jeff introduced Tracy to the two grand masters shortly before the game was to begin. 

Tracy looked like a Grecian painting in a muted green chiffon Galanos gown which left one shoulder bare. Her eyes seemed tremendous in her pale face. Pietr Negulesco looked her over carefully.

"Have you won all the national tournaments you have played in?" he asked.

"Yes," Tracy replied truthfully.

He shrugged. "I have never heard of you."

Boris Melnikov was equally rude. "You Americans do not know what to do with your money," he said. "I wish to thank you in advance. My winnings will make my family very happy."

Tracy's eyes were green jade. "You haven't won, yet, Mr. Melnikov." Melnikov's laugh boomed out through the room. "My dear lady, I don't know who you are, but I know who I am. I am the great Boris Melnikov."

It was 10:00. Jeff looked around and saw that both salons had filled up with spectators. "It's time for the match to start."

Tracy sat down across the table from Melnikov and wondered for the hundredth time how she had gotten herself into this.

"There's nothing to it," Jeff had assured her. "Trust me."

And like a fool she had trusted him. I must have been out of my mind, Tracy thought. She was playing the two greatest chess players in the world, and she knew nothing about the same, except what Jeff had spent four hours teaching her. The big moment had arrived. Tracy felt her legs trembling.

Melnikov turned to the expectant crowd and grinned. He made a hissing noise at a steward. "Bring me a brandy. Napoleon."

"In order to be fair to everyone," Jeff had said to Melnikov, "I suggest that you play the white so that you go first, and in the game with Mr. Negulesco, Miss Whitney will play the white and she will go first." Both grand masters agreed.

While the audience stood hushed, Bo
ris Melnikov reached across the board and played the queen's gambit decline opening, moving his queen pawn two squares. I'm not simply going to beat this woman. I'm going to crush her.

He glanced up at Tracy. She studied the board, nodded, and stood up, without moving a piece. A steward cleared the way through the crowd as Tracy walked into the second salon, where Pietr Negulesco was seated at a table waiting for her. There were at least a hundred people crowding the room as Tracy took her seat opposite Negulesco.

"Ah, my little pigeon. Have you defeated Boris yet?" Pietr

Negulesco laughed uproariously at his joke.

"I'm working on it, Mr. Negulesco," Tracy said quietly.

She reached forward and moved her white queen's pawn two squares. Negulesco looked up at her and grinned. He had arranged for a massage in one hour, but he planned to finish this game before then. He reached down and moved his black queen's pawn two squares.

Tracy studied the board a moment, then rose. The steward escorted her back to Boris Melnikov.

Tracy sat down at the table and moved her black queen's pawn two squares. In the background she saw Jeffs almost imperceptible nod of approval. Without hesitation, Boris Melnikov moved his white queen's bishop pawn two squares.

Two minutes later, at Negulesco's table, Tracy moved her white queen's bishop two squares.

Negulesco played his king's pawn square.

Tracy rose and returned to the room where Boris Melnikov was waiting. Tracy played her king's pawn square.

So! She is not a complete amateur, Melnikov thought in surprise. Let us see what she does with this. He played his queen's knight to queen's bishop 3. Tracy watched his move, nodded, and returned to Negulesco, where she copied Melnikov's move.

Negulesco moved the queen's bishop pawn two squares, and Tracy went back to Melnikov and repeated Negulesco's move.

With growing astonishment, the two grand masters realized they were up against a brilliant opponent. No matter how clever their moves, this amateur managed to counteract them.

Because they were separated, Boris Melnikov and Pietr Negulesco had no idea that, in effect, they were playing against each other. Every move that Melnikov made with Tracy, Tracy repeated with Negulesco. And when Negulesco countered with a move, Tracy used that move against Melnikov.

By the time the grand masters entered the middle game, they were no longer smug. They were fighting for their reputations. They paced the floor while they contemplated moves and puffed furiously on cigarettes. Tracy appeared to be the only calm one.

In the beginning, in order to end the game quickly, Melnikov had tried a knight's sacrifice to allow his white bishop to put pressure on the black king's side. 

Tracy had carried the move to Negulesco. Negulesco had examined the move carefully, then refuted the sacrifice by covering his exposed side, and when Negulesco had sacked a bishop to advance a rook to white's seventh rank, Melnikov had refuted it before the black rook could damage his pawn structure.

There was no stopping Tracy. The game had been going on for four hours, and not one person in either audience had stirred.

Every grand master carries in his head hundreds of games played by other grand masters. It was as this particular match was going into the end game that both Melnikov and Negulesco recognized the hallmark of the other. The bitch, Melnikov thought. 

She has studied with Negulesco. He has tutored her. And Negulesco thought, She is Melnikov's protegee. The bastard has taught her his game.

The harder they fought Tracy, the more they came to realize there was simply no way they could beat her. The match was appearing drawish. In the sixth hour of play, at 4:00 A.M., when the players had reached the end game, thepieces on each board had been reduced to three pawns, one rook, and a king. There was no way for either side to win.

Melnikov studied the board for a long time, then took a deep, choked breath and said, "I offer a draw." 

Over the hubbub, Tracy said, "I accept."

The crowd went wild.

Tracy rose and made her way through the crowd into the next room. As she started to take her seat, Neguleseo, in a strangled voice said, "I offer a draw." And the uproar from the other room was repeated. The crowd could not believe what it had just witnessed. 

A woman had come out of nowhere to simultaneously stalemate the two greatest chess masters in the world.

Jeff appeared at Tracy's side. "Come on," he grinned. "We both need a drink." 

When they left, Boris Melnikov and Pietr Negulesco were sill slumped in their chairs, mindlessly staring at their boards.

UNQUOTE

ABOVE , THE TIMES AXIS WENT WRONG BY A FEW SECONDS.

Indians  never knew that our International matches with Pakistan were being fixed, till the South African captain Hansie Cronje, suffered from pangs on conscience and in his confession for match-fixing, indicated that Azharuddin was the one to introduce him to the bookies.   

Immediately Azharuddin who is a Muslim first and then an Indian cried out on TV that he  was being targeted because he was from a SECULAR minority community. CBI did an inquiry and Azharduddin sweet talked the CBI officer ” Uncle, maine matches banaya”.

Because of his SECULAR and DESH BHAKT credentials (like Owaisi of MIM ) the waitress turned empress took him into her fold.  Azahruddin formally joined the Indian National Congress party on 19 February 2009. 

He contested the Indian general election, 2009 from Moradabad in western Uttar Pradesh and won.  In Muslim constituencies  ( even 30% is enough ) only Muslims can win, such is their secular nature..

The BCCI claimed that it imposed the life ban on Azhar, after he had admitted to fixing three ODI matches. During VDIS scheme (Govt Scheme) in 1996 it was said that he had converted several crores to white the source of which was unknown.

Above: If Azharuddin dares let him denigrate Navjot Singh Sidhu or Imran Khan and see how his face and a$$ gets re-arranged.

People who do NOT know Vinod Kambli must punch into Google search-  VINOD KAMBLI AND MATCH FIXING ALLEGATION WORLD CUP 96 VADAKAYIL

So Azharuddin who FIXED international matches is now in Lok Sabha.

What has Sreesant done?

The Delhi police long in need for a face saver , arresting him for “spot fixing” in IPL cricket league.

What is IPL?

Is it an International match tournament where India’s honour and pride is at stake ( which Azharuddin sold ) or is it a CIRCUS tournament where players are sold like cattle, and entertainment and money is the only factor?

The answer is obvious.

If so why has the foreign funded Indian media given so much or air time to this drama?  Rich owners of IPL clubs are matching fixing and spot fixing. But they were given bail.

They selected the soft targets like Sreesant and applied the DEADLY MCOCA on him.

What is MCOCA?

MCOCA  is the draconian Maharashtra Control of Organised Crime Act.

Till this act was imposed upon Sreesanth,  as a international cricketer he was innocent until proven guilty, but now he is guilty until he proved himself proven innocent.  

Under MCOCA which is meant for terrorists like Ajmal Kasab, the evidence that are unacceptable as proof of guilt under ordinary law, such as confessions extracted by a police interrogating officer (or even telephone intercepts),  can now possibly ensure the accused is convicted.

And in the worst case scenario, after keeping them in jail for a few years, without bail,  while the case is under investigation and then goes to trial, if the police is proven utterly wrong, Sreesanth cannot take any legal action or seek damages – Section 26 of MCOCA provides the police complete immunity.

Not a single foreign funded media came to Sreesanth’s rescue, while he rotted in jail with hardcore Tihar jail criminals for 27 days.  

Listen , this was happened  in democratic India, to a cricketer  who was part of two Indian world cup winning teams in ODI and T20 format.

Just shows what a sham democracy we all live in.  Is this the intrinsic worth of our police, judiciary and media?  What is the worth of our ruling government under the Queen Bee and her coterie? And where is messiah joker Katju?

Where is the evidence to show that Sreesanth and other cricketers had the knowledge of involvement of Dawood Ibrahim?   Even Sreesanth haters will NOT say that he works for Dawood Ibrahim.

 If Sreesanth did not know about involvement of the underworld or the crime syndicate, how can one say he is liable under the MCOCA?

The commissioner Neeraj Kumar , who was feigning total confidence ( probably to get a fast promotion ) initially boasted  that he could get Sreesanth convicted under IPC and then suddenly came up with MCOCA, disregarding the fact that the accused should have a history of continuing unlawful activity to be booked under the Act.

To put it simple ( seedha baat hai ) we shall assume on basis of scanty information, we shall deny bail, we shall detain Sreesanth for long even after filing charge sheet and we will get immunity is we fall flat on our faces.  Sorry Neeraj Kumar, this is NOT the way the cookie shall crumble in democratic India

India is now  in danger of slipping into a police state, where an accused person has few options to prove his innocence.  MCOCA takes away one’s right to be on bail. In Pune recently MMCOCA was applied on desperately poor chain snatchers.  

As per the MCOCA act, anything that the police claim as confessions to a superintendent of police (SP) level officer in writing or recording will be admissible before a court of law, even if extracted under duress.

Delhi Police had charged him with cheating offence Under IPC 420.  This is pathetic as under Indian Penal Code, there is no such offence called ‘spot-fixing.’  And that too for a club cricket circus with half naked cheer leaders and thousands of bookies, where players are sold like cattle in a market.

HEY,  NEERAJ KUMAR, HOW ABOUT APPLYING MCOCA ON THE DESH KA DAMAAD ROBERT WADHERA--NAY-- VADRA ( angrez hai na !)

HIMMAT HAI ?

The cotton towel which fast bowler Sreesanth used was at a temperature of 42 deg Centigrade.  A lot of players were using towels including the captain Rahul Dravid.   Sreesanth had used such a towel in many IPL matches .  He could be seen using it in many test and ODI matches in the past as well.

Sreesanth was supposed to give away  willfully  14 runs.  

How come there is NOT a single soul with perception in India?

If Sreesanth gave only five runs in the first four balls of the said over, out of which two were dot-balls. Then how could he be so sure of giving away nine runs in the last two balls. Pray?

His fifth ball in the over was short pitched and a difficult one to score a six,  Sure enough even the seasoned sixer blaster like Gilchrist could NOT do it on the 5th ball . Why was the whole of India deriving joy in damaging a cricketers’ life for ever, without using their commonsense?

And regarding all the big spending.  Bank records show that he had withdrawn  five times in two days. The other transactions were done online and using debit cards.

And I am sure as a consenting adult he does NOT need police permission to jump a good looking girl or to party.  And is it illegal to use own money, to buy gifts for a girl?  Why the jealousy?  Is India not a free country?  

Unlike other minor players Sreesant is well off financially having played cricket at the highest levels for so long. He does NOT need a bookie’s money to buy his girl a gift, and that too he gave it to her in front of her parents in her home where he was invited. They gave him a token gift in return.

There is no damning money trail implicating him in spot fixing.

Above: There was this pathetic jealousy factor as gorgeous girls piled on Sreesanth.

Hey, how about checking how much akkal ka dushman , Rahul Gandhi spends?  Why is MCOCA being used selectively for this club cricket circus?

Did not BCCI president Srinivasan froth though his mouth while crying  “ The system is clean.  There were just 3 rotten eggs, which we have discarded  “

And pretty soon he too falls flat on his face along with his sambhar , rasam and puliyodharai , as his own CSK dugout warming son-in-law turns out to be a betting pop-shot.

When a terrorist black bag was used on Sreesanth’s head , why was it NOT used on Kundra and Gurunath- the team owners of RR and CSK ?

Why did the Indian parliament keep quiet when draconian MCOCA was applied on Sreesanth? 

If this is the way our cops, media and parliament works , then we must really examine the cases of hundreds of Muslims put in jail for terrorist activities.  Maybe Owaisi got a point.

And how many of you have noticed how self righteous  Arnab Goswami of Times Now TV was in all his news hour tamasha show .  He was all in one.   A noisy judge, jury, police, media, nation’s conscience keeper etc –  all the while jumping up and down like an orangutan.  

Arnab Goswami was consistently trying to prove that the IPL club cricket circus is same as India’s honour.  

Rajasthan Royals is owned by a foreigner Murdoch. In the other IPL teams the Indians owners are mere fronts like Shilpa Shetty.  Even Islamic desh drohi money is involved just like in Bollywood..

It must be noted that the girl whom Ankeet Chavan got betrothed to showed real character and did NOT lose trust in her man.

Compare this with Team India and the Rajastan Royals team -  what a fu#kin’ disgrace.  Are these real men?

Above: I have been a leader of teams for over 3.5 decades. We were like commandos, willing to give our lives for a team member.

Punch into Google search- HIBERNATION WITH HYDROGEN SULPHIDE GAS  VADAKAYIL

-- where 3 team members nearly gave up their lives to rescue a mate in trouble-- all were saved !!

A word about Rahul Dravid’s leadership spirit.  

He was asked by Harsha Bhogle live on TV about 18 year old wicket keeper cum batsman Sanju Samson who had played some wonderful quickfire knocks , giving victory to Rajasthan Royals.   

This is what the pathetic Captain of team Rahul Dravid said “ He has a long way to go”.

 As if to negate him Sanju Samson was awarded the trophy for the “best upcoming young talent in IPL6“.

Maharashtra Control of Organised Crime Act, 1999 (MCOCA) is law enacted by Maharashtra state in India in 1999 to combat organised underworld crime against the nation and terrorism.  Why are we confusing circus club cricket IPL with the nation?

Here was a blatant miscarriage of justice , -- the conviction and punishment of a person for a crime he did not commit.  MCOCA spurred  conviction need not be overturned for several years,  or until the innocent person is dead.  

By applying the magic wand of MCOCA, the possibility of  ensuring a conviction nearly doubles. Not because of the merits of the case or the investigation, but only because of the provisions of the Act.  For MCOCA sets up a parallel system that sets aide ordinary legal procedures to transpose an anachronistic medieval system of justice based on assumption of guilt.  

Above: The foreign funded media has a whale of a time.

MCOCA is also an example of states blatantly usurping the centre’s legislative powers and setting different standards of justice in different parts of the country. If the the case been investigated in Kerala, the police would have proceeded under normal law. 

In terms of its human rights abuse, MCOCA is similar to the now-defunct POTA repealed in 2004. Our Indian police are experts in extracting  confessions by third degree. 

And how about the MCOCA provision for non-disclosure of the names of witnesses to the accused? Good way to get promoted fast in the police ranks.  In criminal investigations, the accused often “confesses” to police to avoid torture and then retracts it later in court, because confession extracted by the police is discarded into the court room garbage bin..

There are basic safeguards provided to every Indian citizen under our Indian constitution and nobody can take it way—even by applying MCOCA if we remain vigilant and fight against travesty of justice.

Our constitution protects our  liberties.  People who have misused MCOCA on Sreesanth and abused our constitution and principles of natural justice , must be taken to task and punished.

Above: Ankeet Chauhan marrying a true Bharatiya Nari ( while on bail just for the occasion ) -- see the tension on their faces .  He could be behind bars for many years.

Can you imagine that the police and judiciary were working on Sunday nights to get into the IPL mess.  When a law abiding citizen may have to wait for 30 years for his property dispute , or an acid thrown on his daughter’s face to be settled. Poor Sikhs are still waiting for justice in the 1984 riots sponsored by secular Congress..

So the special law MCOCA makes the police unaccountable.  Hey, I wont blame them.  Since when has the waitress turned empress ever shown accountability?  Unless she is grabbing all the credit?

Above: Delhi Police Commissioner Neeraj Kumar -- a total disgrace -- on the hunt for easy and soft targets? 

They now complain about Sreesanth being too passionate on the field. 

Was it NOT the Indian team , BCCI , media and Indian public who encouraged his ungentlemanly behavior when they wanted to give “mental disintegration” by sledging , right back to the “Ugly Aussies”?   Even captain Dhoni told on TV that he does NOT mind Sreesanth sledging the Aussies.

Above : Giving back as good as we got-- mental disintegration,  chickens come home to roost!.

At that time it unnerved the Aussies, who were at the receiving end for the first time , and they tanked their matches .  

Nothing succeeds like success , right?

WATCH OUT, ONE DAY YOU OR YOUR CHILD OR YOUR CLOSE FAMILY WILL BE IN THE SAME POSITION AS SREESANTH--  

HAVE YOUR FUN NOW--  RIDICULE HIM !! 

Just because Sreesanth ( who is taller, fitter and has more beef ) did NOT hit back at OYE OYE Harbhajan , and have a ugly brawl,  like BALLE BALLE YPD2 , in the stadium , call him a coward. 

Sreesanth's voice was on none of the phone conversations recorded by the Delhi Police, the basis on which arrests and allegations have been made.

Circumstantial evidences—like towel, gestures, extra time before starting an over—it is obvious the silent video was shot first and then a FAKE audio telephone conversation made , to FIX Sreesanth. 

Delhi Police's past record is replete with instances of false arrests and overstated charges. They are on the lookout for a face saver .

They tried to fix him in the past IPL by creating a situation where he will throw a punch back at Harbhajan, who elbowed him.  It did NOT work. This incident was blown up only because Sreesanth cried.

In between the immoral opportunists , the foreign funded Christian missionaries tried to convert Sreesanth, like how they did to Vinod Kambli.  He arrived Kochi clutching a Bible.

Grace and peace!

CAPT AJIT VADAKAYIL
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