A secret rendezvous for damage-control was recently held amongst Shashank Manohar (BCCI President), N Srinivasan (Secretary ), K Srikanth (Chief Selector ) and the former IPL Commissioner Just Suspended (Lalit Modi) at a luxury resort in exotic sun-kissed beaches of Goa. Here is the transcript of their discreet exchange in our exclusive sting operation .

Srinivasan: I don’t like this venue for our clandestine meetings, it is a straight give-away .Which idiot chose it?

Modi ( with a sadistic smile): I did.

The venue was called The Lalit.

Manohar: Good morning, everyone! I am glad ..

Modi (interrupts, sarcastically uttering with a wicked smile): It is 5 minutes past 12. It should be Good afternoon.

A thick impenetrable silence pervaded the chic conference room where a large glittering chandelier swung precariously from the ceiling, shaking like Shakira doing a Waka Waka from left to right.

Srikanth looked disconcertingly upwards and sneezed. Srinivisan gave him a dirty look for the bad omen, whispering in tandem: Om Shanti Om!

The atmosphere reeked of restrained animosity from all its venerable occupants. A stage set for a dramatic confrontation.

Manohar: Whenever you are around, everything is chaotic. Tense. Anyway Lalit, why are you washing all our dirty underwear in public?

Modi: Linen Shash, linen-that’s the apposite expression in the Victorian language! You know why? Because we are all VIPs remember? I am also planning to get the underwear brand to be our next sponsors after DLF. Imagine it will be called VIP IPL. That will be the wow factor! We can even sponsor streakers as a new revenue stream wearing VIP frenchies to protect Indian sensibilities. They will literally take the pants off the cheerleaders also.

Manohar: But why wash our dirty VIP linen…

Modi: Actually, I have a habit of cleaning things up, Shash. Completely. I am a man of high ethics and valuations.

Srinivasan: You mean values.

Manohar: And stop calling me Shash.

Modi: Coolio, if that’s the way you want it, Mr Shashank Manohar President-Not-Yet-Suspended of BCCI.

Srikanth sneezed, and the chandelier was now swinging rather dangerously. For the first time, even Manohar and Srinivasan looked at it suspiciously. Modi looked unfazed and seemed to be chuckling at their discomfiture.

Srininvasan: Lalit, I hope you have no foul intentions.

Modi: You guys are paranoid. I am no Phantom of the Opera. If I have to knock you guys out, I will not waste that awesome glass-piece on your thick-heads. It may not work on you all.

(Exasperated, Modi looked at his watch.)

Modi: Anyway, move on. We have just 10 minutes. Time is money.

Manohar: Why are you so sensationalistic? Always leaking news to the media?

Modi pointed to his see-through black shirt. Because I wear my transparency on my chest. They don’t call me a perfect show-man to the T for nothing. In fact, I accuse you of leaking away all the time.

Srikanth sneezed and with his little finger indicated he was taking a bio-break.

Srinivasan: (hollered back at Modi I make cement, Lalit. Breaking news is against our corporate philosophy. No leaks have ever emanated from me. Ever.

Manohar: Lalit, you have clear conflict of interest issues.

Modi: Wrong! I have no conflict of interest. I only have interest in conflicts.

Manohar seemed to have liked that confession. He nodded in acquiescence.

Modi: I am a patriotic fellow. The Americans called cricket like a game of baseball on valium. So I just changed it to Viagra. I am a genius.

Srinivasan: Creative destruction, I have to say.

Srikanth returned from the rest room and let out a loud sneeze to herald his arrival..

Srinivasan: Om Shanti Om!

Modi: Funny fellow! They call him Cheekha but he only sneezes.

Manohar: Thanks to you Lalit, we have become a laughing stock of the nation because of your shenanigans.

Modi: You are welcome! At least, I have made you a stock. Given you some value.

Srinivasan: But this stock will never see any appreciation, Mr Modi, all because of your vested interests.

Modi: Remember what Pawar saab said, we are like one big family. That’s why all of us have crossholdings. I can’t understand why you all are getting so cross about it.

Manohar: But why are only builders involved in all controversial stakes? .

Modi: Because we are still building the IPL brand. It is work-in-progress. We need specialists, for DLF’s sake, to make it all work brick by brick.

The chandelier swing had mysteriously subsided.

Modi: In fact, a perceptive company is planning a movie on my illustrated career.

Srinivasan: Illustrious, you mean.

Modi: That’s the problem with you Srini—. Exactitude. With rare exceptions like bank guarantees lapsing, of course . Ha Ha!

Srinivasan gulped a glass full of coconut water.

Modi: I am planning to give all of you roles in that film. You will play yourselves. But Shash, you will have to lose some weight. And Cheekha, you will have to stop sneezing and start shouting.

Srikanth: Cheeka, Sir! Really Sir? You are a good selector, Lalit Modi Ji.

Srikanth uttered his first and last words of the afternoon. And he did not sneeze.

Sush—-, whispered Srinivasan. I hear sounds. I suspect the media has sniffed us out. I suspect a sting operation. Be careful. I suggest we sneak out quietly.

Modi: Srini, stop Sush—ing. I don’t like you making things personal. Keep her out of it.

Srinivasan: She? Who? Where? What? Why? Whom? How?

Manohar (screamed like a vuvuzela in a South African football stadium): Enough! This farce is now suspended. Until our next farce, errr, I mean our next meeting.

Everyone dispersed using separate exit doors. As Srikanth departed using the kitchen’s spiral stair-case, a sneeze was audible.

Modi used the main door and walked out to a large battalion of press-and TV photographers shoving microphones into his wide mouth .

“Sir , what happened sir. Please tell us your Breaking News, sir.”

Modi started out by clearing his throat: This is brought to you by Vicks, a Proctor and Gamble company’s product.

Modi continued: At the end of the day……( Then he suddenly remembered the gag order of BCCI).

“Yes, sir, please sir. At the end of the day?”

Modi: At the end of the day…………….there is night.

The moment you land back in India, even before you have crossed the immigration counters, you will inevitably hear some intense animated chatter about Indian cricket from fellow passengers. Occasionally, I even apprehend a fist-fight emerging out of those passionate acrimonious exchanges. Last night, one young man was exceedingly agitated about India being knocked out of the tri-series in the Zimbabwe tour. He looked like an inflammatory can of petrol. I prudently enough allowed him free access to the place ahead of me in the queue. Royalty demands reverence, you know.

A fortnight earlier I had woken up in London, my first morning of a long-planned and eagerly awaited summer break, to see the picturesque Kensington gardens, its quaint charming interminable stretch interspersed by well-arranged trees and immaculately trimmed rose bushes. And of course, an impenetrable silence. My coveted moments of blissful tranquility was to be, however, very transitory.

As I opened the sports section of the Daily Telegraph, a familiar smug countenance stared back at me, as if with a deliberate sadistic design. It was our good ole peripatetic IPL Commissioner currently in “suspended” animation giving one of his characteristic bombastic interviews.

Elsewhere, the BCCI had callously if not altogether contemptuously dropped plans of sending an Indian team to the Asian games. And of course, a certain Mr Aniruddha Deshpande, a real-estate builder from Pune had become the latest albatross round the neck of former BCCI chief and Union Minister Sharad Pawar.

No matter how hard you try to escape desi cricket and its inimitable, fashionable faux pas, it has a knack of surfacing both with mischievous delight and with exasperating regularity. It is like a fait accompli. But I still successfully resisted my urge to do a column as I soaked in the unpredictable English summer.

As I now rummage through the evidently cataclysmic revelation about Mr Pawar’s financial stakes in a failed bid for the Pune franchise, I am compelled to reproduce a section from my just published book 11-Triumphs, Trials and Turbulence Indian cricket 2003-10, which will tell you as to why I am surprised as to how we all seem so remarkably stunned and hugely dismayed by the dingy disclosures. The writing was always on the wall, only we chose to treat it like an incomprehensible alien dialect.

So here goes and I quote:

 ”India has 600000 villages and even today over 70% of our billion population lives in rural areas combating drought, poverty, money-lender’s avarice, large disguised unemployment and perpetual indebtedness. Farmer suicides is a brutal reality of our country. But no media outlet has seriously debated why should India’s Agriculture Minister defocus from a compelling national priority by taking honorary charge of a cricket body? Why ? Isn’t it ridiculous that instead of resuscitating a dilapidated BJP senior party leader Arun Jaitley holds on to his DDCA position even as a mercurial Laloo Yadav joins the fray. What is the mesmerizing magnetic appeal of cricket administration for such veteran public servants? And frankly, how can one alter the complete BCCI structure to enable fresh talented recruits, transparent management, professional expertise, and an accountable institution to emerge ? I think the cricket loving public of India deserves a lot more respect.

” The early monsoon showers have thankfully arrived, but for Indian cricket, as always the heat is on.

See you soon!