Swingin' in SoCal

No one knows....

2012-01-31T00:05:00.000-05:00

Was reading Sidvee's brilliant take on the happenings in Australia, with Bob Gatewood's "No one knows" fortuitously playing on iTunes. Somehow felt a link between the words and the dilemma(s) facing the big 3 in the middle order, and also cricket fans like me (and Sidvee) who probably started watching serious cricket in the late 80s when SRT was just making his entry. I might overplay this one, but an Indian team without SRT is something that seems unfathomable to me (similar sentiments with Dravid for Sidvee, I assume), for want of a better word. It's almost like you walk past that compound where your grandparents' house stood, look in and realize it's no longer there, and Time has moved on, and there stands a multi-storey building.

Life is a garden, the more that something grows....the more the ground is bare, when it goes

Laxman and Dravid have been part of the backbone of our lineup for the last 15 years or so, and to me they are what GR Viswanath was to my father's generation - stylish, impeccable strokeplayers, probably straight out of the Don's coaching manual. I have to admit I've seen very little of Vishy; the only games I can recollect are from the 1980-81 series in Australia, where he looks rather unimpressive. I still watch the Laxman-Dravid innings from the Eden Gardens Test in 2001 and get nostalgic not just over their strokeplay, but also over the circumstances in which they played it. Sometimes I have a gut feeling that back in the 70s, cricket writers (and radio commentators for that matter) conveyed a lot more in their pieces than today, painting a Monet/VanGogh like tapestry, and not the Jackson Pollock-style inanities.

Water, sunshine, love and rain...can't make that space grown again....round and round we go.....no one knows...

Today, both Laxman and Dravid, and Tendulkar to a lesser extent, face questions about their place in the squad. Sadly, all three have looked woefully out of sorts during the series, despite their best efforts. People claim Kapil overstayed, which is a fact, considering the fact that he was blocking Srinath's path into the Test team. At this stage, I am not sure if the same can be said about the big-3. The Rohits, Yuvis and Sureshs have been tried and tested, and found wanting; which was not the case with Srinath. Quite frankly, whatever people might say, the cupboard is bare as of now. There is time before the next Test series, and that time must be used by the big 3, or the authorities/coaches to try and get the next generation (Sharma, Yuvi, Raina, Badrinath, Pujara) ready to take on whatever comes their way in the next 5 years or so (medium-term vision?).

No one knows if time is telling the truth....or how our garden will grow....why is time not ours to control....no one knows...no one knows...

I am not sure what the road ahead will be like, but the future has to groomed, and groomed NOW. IPL or not, It looks like the next away series of note is against South Africa in November 2013! There's more than enough time to get these guys geared up to face quality teams on quality wickets. At the same time, creating sporting wickets in India would go a long way in building bowlers who can make the most of conditions and not look like clueless buffoons on non-subcontinental wickets in Australia/NZ/South Africa. There was a time spin was India's strength, but that's not the case now. Ashwin is decent, but the buck stops there. Bhajji is in woeful decline, and I'm afraid his only performance of note on the field of the last couple of years of his career will be his settling scores with Sreesanth, if he does not come back AND perform well. Pragyan Ojha is decent, but might be second-best in holding a place in the side, considering Ashwin's decent run with the bat.

So for you the time has come, to head off towards your kingdom come....so unfairly now, you must go...

Changes must be made, although I fully understand they might not be implemented in the upcoming series at home vs. Pakistan. But I cannot really see Laxman or Dravid (or Tendulkar for that matter) in the team beyond that series. The tour to Lanka, and the subsequent home series against NZ, Aus and England potentially offer the perfect setup to get the new guys in, up and running. It may be unfair, but the time is probably right. The water, sunshine, love and rain provided (if any, since you can never be sure with the BCCI), will make the space grow again. If this does not happen, I foresee a very long and arduous learning curve, with the Indian team potentially heading into a steep decline similar to what the WIndies have gone/are going through.

So unfair a man like you, was cast down for what fate would do....for you there is no day in the sun...

And finally, back to Dravid...the man who has been the proverbial Atlas for India, bearing every burden (and the innumerable brickbats) which have come his way. He has done everything a man could have done in times of crisis - opened the batting, donned the wicket-keeper's gloves. If there is one man who should be allowed to choose when he wants to walk off stage, it is him. To me, despite my [blind] loyalties towards Bombay and Tendulkar, he is the true great amongst the three, or the greater of the 3 greats. Without him, I wonder what the team would have been like, much like you wonder what the Windies would have been like without Richards - he's the glue which has held the team together.

But then....Que Sera Sera....like Sidvee concluded, the last word lies with Messrs. Srinivasan, Fletcher, Dhoni and Srikkanth.

Travel diaries - Part One

2012-01-29T21:37:00.001-05:00

(The first of a series, hopefully, of a travel diary)

One week to go, and PP was headed to India, for the first time after he came to the US. The airport, which is normally one of those where you can breeze through, was a buzz of activity that morning with queues stretching all over the terminal. Strangely, it took about 45 mins to check-in, which wasn't bad, since he had factored in checking in 3h ahead, since he was flying on an international leg from JFK onwards.

A week on, the boy found himself stuck in Philly airport with a six hour delay, with the rain pounding down. He thanked his stars for booking the domestic leg of the flight one day before the international leg. As usual, the US Airways folks were as knowledgeable about the flight status as their passengers. It was not the first, and most definitely not the last time the US Airways folks would goof-up travel plans!

The boy kept himself amused the next day, while the girl was away at work. Bags packed, ready to go, and before you knew it, they were at the airport. Waiting to check-in for a flight headed to India is an experience in itself; each passenger unique in his/her own way. The harried mother of two, trying to control one kid, while holding the other on her shoulder. The couple heading back home after grandparent duty. Gawky teenagers on their way to Madras to spend a few weeks of their summer vacations with thaatha and paatti. The businessman, suave and all, but still wanting to cut the queue at every possible opportunity.

At the gate, you see the AI flight to Bombay (777-300, in all it's glory) just pulling out, making it's way slowly across the tarmac, and you wonder how this beast makes it to 500 mph! This one's rather unimaginatively named "Jharkand" - a disappointment compared to the grander names AI aircrafts had in the past, like Samudragupta and other royal folks. The place slowly begins filling up.

There's not much to really do, so the boy and girl go check out the duty free section, looking immaculate with all the alcohol and perfumes neatly stacked up in there. It's a different story, that there's little place to move around in there - there are other bored people too! The boy eyes a Carolina Herrera 212, which he's had his eyes on for about 3-4 months, but as always the prices are forbidding in duty-free! He'll have to do with a splash to re-test its smell - which lasts all the way till he gets home, and turns out to be clincher and the first purchase once he's back in the US!

Still no sign of the aircraft at the gate - you can see it rest a short distance away from the gate with a couple of other big aircrafts. People are restless, and even though the airline ground staff still haven't manned the counter, they seem to be all set to take the door down and "take a walk on the wild side" off the aerobridge!

Once they get there, the airline staff do a phenomenal job of getting everyone on board, without making it look like people jumping into an unreserved coach of the Coromandel Express at Madras Central station! The guy doing to announcements seems a tad deaf/dim, as he doesn't realize whatever he's saying is audible on to himself! The best part is, everything seems placid. No babies crying, no kids running in the aisles, and we're all set for a smooth flight across the Atlantic.

It's 6:25pm, and on the dot, the aircraft starts pulling back from the gate. In the distance, you can see the Manhattan skyline, resplendent in its evening glory. As the aircraft waits for its turn to take-off, you get a close-up view of some real behemoths taking off on their way across the continent or ocean(s). At 6:45pm, the wheels lift-off terra firma, and the journey's begun!

Wish you were here....

2012-01-19T00:37:00.003-05:00

So you think you can tell......
In college, it was "compulsory" for each one of us to be part of an extra-curricular organization.

Heaven from hell...
It was either the National Service Scheme (social welfare and grassroots stuff), National Sports Scheme (basically get some fresh air after classes, and 'put adda" in the sports ground), and the best of the best, the National Cadet Corps.

Blue skies from pain...
I have no clue how I got caught - can only blame it on the seniors 2 batches ahead of me who waltzed into class, and picked me out immediately, since I was known as the "Bombay wallah".

Can you tell a green field......
Saturday morning parades, at 8am sharp. Misty mornings, empty #23C bus.

From a cold steel rail?.....
Crunch of boots with nails grating on the asphalt of the CEG campus. Wasted Saturday mornings?

A smile from a veil?
Sometimes had the good fortune of a 'darshan' of the NCC Navy folks doing their drills - ballet compared to ours!

Do you think you can tell?
Sometimes wonder if it was all worth it!

And did they get you to trade
Your heroes for ghosts?
Venkataramanaiah, a clown of the highest order, always talking through his hat, about snakes he encountered. Later on heard that he just left college one day and escaped to Singapore, where I'm sure he's expanded on his reptile knowledge!

Hot ashes for trees?
Some mornings in the brutal Madras heat. Soaked uniforms. Some unfortunate souls wilting and then being sent for a "frog jump"!

Hot air for a cool breeze?
At least they served us some semi-decent breakfasts at the canteen! Developed some level of a liking for pongal.

Cold comfort for change?
Missing the camp in the summer of '99 was blissful. A year on I'd realize how lucky I was!

And did you exchange

A walk on part in the war
For a lead role in a cage?
Would have to do the camp in the summer of 2000, but that would also mean missing out on a bit of Euro 2000! Going to camp as a 'senior' would be a relief from the humdrum of the usual parades and all the jazz.

How I wish, how I wish you were here.

We're just two lost souls
Swimming in a fish bowl,
Year after year,
Miserable summer camp, but we soldiered on as brothers, each one looking out for the other. Today, I think each one of us looks back at that camp, and remembers the good times, and not the misery of it!

Running over the same old ground.
And how we found
The same old fears.
Wish you were here.

Dedicated to some of the most amazing people with whom I strengthened our friendships on that camp - Tanay, PD, Venks, Arvind, Mohan, among so many more who were part of Signals!

Where have you gone, Ayrton Senna?

2012-01-08T01:36:00.001-05:00

It will be 18 years this May......I remember that Sunday evening, like it was yesterday.....I was on the phone in the dining room, when I heard the news....Ayrton Senna was gone....forever! I had heard that another driver (Roland Ratzenberger) had been killed the previous day in qualifying, but this was a shocker.
Star Sports had just started showing Formula 1 races a year or two earlier, and for an aficionado like me, Sunday evenings were reserved for F1. It had come a long way from the days of reading about races 2 weeks after they happened in the latest issue of Sportstar (funny thinking about in this day and age). Admittedly in my early days of following F1, I had a tough time distinguishing Alain Prost from Senna! They looked the same (somewhat to my teen brain), and drove for the same McLaren team. Little did I know about the rivalry between them. Prost, the Frenchman, always the scheming Professor....Senna, the dapper Brazilian, reminiscent of his footballer brethren, stylish and suave.
He was gone before I really had a chance to see his true greatness at the wheel, living and driving on the edge. I had only read about them, until recently, when I got the chance to watch a fabulous documentary on him. Asif Kapadia's award-winning "Senna" is surely a must-watch, and shows the man in his prime, in life and in death. Star Sports always ended their races that year with U2's "One", in its near entirety, the lyrics of which ring hauntingly true to this day. And it always ended with his unforgettable yellow helmet atop his casket!

Coming to think of it, 1994 was a strange year in sports! Was exposed to the madness/mayhem when sports and reality TV intersect with the OJ Simpson brouhaha. Watched the Brazilians win a World Cup for the first time in my life, but also read about a young man lose his life for an own-goal. Had the good fortune of watching Brian Lara for the first time, in the flesh, after he broke Gary Sobers' unbreakable record and also belted poor Durham into oblivion.
But personally, 1994 will always be the year we lost the Prince of Formula1, Ayrton Senna!

Has Indian cricket really turned a corner?

2011-12-20T23:50:00.001-05:00

Since I last scribbled on this pad, the "Men in Blue" somehow managed to win a cricket World Cup, banishing Kapil and his Devils of 1983 (hopefully) permanently to the woodwork, from which they tended to make an appearance every four years. The euphoria was thick in the air, even in the summer when they toured England and performed miserably! They looked woefully out of sorts, bereft of any passion for the game, leading my good friend King_of_Jacks, a hardcore Indian cricket fan to sort-of question his interest in the game (disclosure: die-hard fan yours truly gave up watching, even though he was India). As a friend said, whatever cold go wrong, went wrong with the team, particularly the f-word, fitness.

Not sure if it was a case of too much cricket, or whether the team just took it easy after the win, basking in the accolades which (rightfully) came their way. I am as guilty of these indiscretions as they are, so I can't afford to point a finger at them. I haven't been a big fan of T20, but then we would probably have not found Virat Kohli and Ashwin but for this format, not to mention Rohit Sharma, all of whom have a decent road ahead for them, provided they put in the yards. To a large extent, T20 is often about thinking "outside the box" and that's the way the game is going to be, whether we like it or not.

The BCCI is well, as Mohinder Amarnath memorably quipped, "a bunch of jokers". With Kumble at the helm of the NCA (and the KSCA), a lot of thought it would be a breath of fresh air, but the man's been working pretty much with his hands tied, and a lot of stupid innuendo floating around about supposed "conflicts of interest", when the emperor himself is a walking, talking conflict, who pretends to be holier than everyone else! I think Kumble would have been the perfect guy to mould young cricketers, and their skills on and off the field, to make them ambassadors of the game. Que Sera Sera! And to think, the straw which finally broke Kumble's back was a software package for injury management!

And so, the boys are now in Australia, and as usual there's a fear of another goof-up, especially on the fitness front. Agreed, the Aussies haven't been at their best, losing even to New Zealand. With Phil Hughes out of the Test squad, I suspect the Indians are in trouble. Only time will tell!

The beautiful game

2010-10-10T22:02:00.004-04:00

Another World Cup is over, and it introduced a new champion, not unexpectedly. However, the inspiration for this post was ESPN's 30 for 30 on "The Two Escobars" going back some 20 years - bringing back memories of the Colombian football team.

Back in 1990, there were two Colombian footballers who created a clear impression on me. The inimitable Valderrama, with his frizzy hairdo, and ofcourse the crazy Rene Higuita (he of the scorpion kick). Back in the good old days when my hair had to be within a few microns of my scalp, Valderrama's 'do was quite a thing - I think it still is! Higuita ofcourse was known for his forays to midfield, and good old Roger Milla caught him napping on one of those forays, and celebrated in his usual "jiggly" dance on the sidelines!

It's the first football World Cup I can remember watching. Memories of waking up with Achan at what were then unearthly hours to watch some great players. Baggio weaving through defenses, Schillaci working his magic, Klinsmann heading in a blinder against the Yugoslavians, Sergio Goychochea pulling off some stunning saves, and so much more. It was about Maradona beginning his decline. The Germans playing some boring football (in general) and winning the Cup!

But more than that it was about falling in love with the beautiful game, and about a father teaching his son the joys of sport!

NOTE: This was started sometime in July 2010, and completed only in March 2011! Have watched more of ESPN's 30 for 30, and they've done a fab job of the series.

The wind in my hair...

2009-09-13T21:23:00.002-04:00

Happened to get back earlier than usual one evening last week. The sky was overcast, a cool breeze blew through my hair, carrying with it the smell of rain. Leaves went helter-skelter, weaving patterns on the concrete, their rustles competing with the cicadas in full flow.

It all reminded me of home. This is the first time I'm really noticing this - it might be the new apartment complex too! As always, overcast skies remind me of "Fabric" by Midival Punditz - from the "Monsoon Wedding" soundtrack (raaga Bhairavi, I think).

Dom DiMaggio...The Nation turns its lonely eyes...

2009-05-19T22:15:00.003-04:00

Back in the mid 90s, Joe DiMaggio was just a name in a song (the classic "Mrs. Robinson) - something surprising considering I'd like to think I've been a Yankee fan since I was 4 or 5 (when my aunt and uncle gave me a Yankees tshirt). It was only when he passed on, that I realized his on- and off-field exploits. Back then he probably fit the bill of a 'gentleman', considering the fact that he was married to Ms. Monroe, and the way he took care of things once she passed on. Today, his baseball prowess

I didn't even know he had a younger brother, the Little Professor. It was only after reading Halberstam's masterpiece "The Teammates" that I got to know about friendships and baseball, and life in general for four legends. Ted Williams had an air of arrogance about him, in life (and possibly in death). There was not much in the book about the modern-day Bobby Doerr. But Pesky and DiMaggio came across as humble folks - quiet and unassuming. I wonder if Pesky still suits up for the Red Sox like he used to.

And so, today, we wonder..."Where have you gone....."

Rediscovering Malayalam literature

2009-02-25T01:19:00.004-05:00

Every time I go back home, I get more addicted to Indian writing. This time was no different, with Ramachandra Guha's "India After Gandhi" being largely polished off on the train to Bangalore, while "Sea of Poppies" was my companion on the flight back to the US. "The Last Mughal" was left half-read, while MT Vasudevan Nair's "Naalukettu" was unread when I left India.

Achan described it as an 'emotionally charged' book, and that made me decide to keep it for a sunny day. And am I glad that I did not read it in India, at a time when you relive so many memories in the space of three weeks. Just reading it brought back the sights, sounds, and smells of summer vacations spent in Thrissur. Although everything was relatively drama-free in reality, I could relate with the events narrated in the book. The politics of the family, the socio-economic divisions, the rituals all struck a chord. Rarely does a book leave me with a sense of being hit by a cyclone, and "Naalukettu" did just that. The story climaxes in the last twenty pages or so, leaving the reader with a sense of wonder. Somehow, there seems to be something incomplete in the story, and one can only conjecture.

I think Gita Krishnankutty has done a wonderful job of translating the original version from Malayalam, and I hope to see MT's masterpiece "Randa moozham" (Second Turn) translated and out in the market soon. The story deals with the Mahabharatha, told through the eyes of Bheema. Prem Panicker (formerly of cricket-blogging fame, I dare say) has a wonderful take on the storyline, with his own personal touch here. It's like I have often wondered what the Mahabharatha would sound like if it were to be retold from Karna's point of view.

PS: My previous post on discovering Malayalam literature is here.

Update from April 2009: I managed to pick up and go through a copy of "Randa moozham" thanks to that treasure trove for all grad students - an inter-library loan.

Memories of a Principal - Part II

2009-02-22T11:34:00.003-05:00

I happened to watch an old episode of NDTV's "Walk the Talk" with Shekhar Gupta this morning, and it kindled some more memories of Mr. Lewis. The guest on show was the inimitable Harsha Bhogle, a man who always brings a smile to my face when I hear him talk about cricket and life in general. (I bet the Aussies feel the same way about Richie Benaud). The venue for the interview was the Bombay Gymkhana, steeped in tradition and history (with due apologies to the Madras Cricket Club, the other 'club' I have grown to admire so much), as the first venue in India to stage a Test match.

Considering the silent, serene glory of the place, it was always my dream to play a game at "Bombay Gym", as we always called it. And play I did, not once but on three or four occasions thanks to Mr. Lewis. The results were embarrassing (score-wise and clothes-wise), but to a teenage boy who grew up literally worshipping the wood and the grass of Bombay Gym, the moments spent there were some of the most priceless ones. I am not sure too many of the kids who go to the Cricket Club of India (CCI)/Brabourne Stadium and Bombay Gym realize the historical importance of the floors they walk.

One of those games was an inter-house one, which was supposed to be rugby (or rugger as Mr. Lewis called it!) but was more like a free-for-all melee in the slush. I am sure a seasoned rugby follower would have been dismayed at what he saw, if he were present. All the same, the game never really took off at Campion in the mid-90s (possibly since it was seen as another "Cathedral" thing introduced at Campion), and I guess 1990-1993 would probably be the only time Campionites ever tried their hands at rugby!

In my first five years at Campion, we rarely saw any celebrities. But thanks to Mr. Lewis we had a whole set of high-fliers making visits to our humble 13 Cooperage Road. Vijay Amritraj had to watch his head when he ducked into our 5th std. classroom one afternoon, while WWF's "Macho Man" (aka Randy Savage) must have grimaced in agony when he was introduced as the "Muncho man". But the crowning moment was in March 1996, when the Windies cricket team who were in India for the World Cup, stopped by Campion for some chai and biscuits.

The dusty football ground was converted into a makeshift cricket pitch, and one Brian Charles Lara took massive swings at deliveries bowled by the Campion pace quartet which featured a trundler who went by the moniker of "Soultan of Swing". I could see the genial, bearded Andy Roberts (who was the manager of the team) shake his head in absolute disapproval as ball after ball disappeared into oblivion. Lara of course refused to sign autographs for us, dismissing us with a wave of his hands, prompting someone to ask if his initials actually stood for something else. Jimmy Adams on the other hand, signed every book that came his way, and probably missed out on his share of tea for his troubles. Jimmy was one of the most soft-spoken cricketers I have met, someone who always had time to chat a bit while signing autographs, and he's been forgiven for all the padding he did against the Indian spinners while amassing 500 odd runs in the test series the previous winter, earning him the sobriquet of "Padams". And oh yes, Mr. Lewis made the poor cricketers stand through our school anthem and some prayers, and ofcourse "ineez hands". It worked for the Windies, as they won all their matches from that point on, going all the way to the semi-finals, where they stumbled at the last hurdle against the Aussies!

PS: I suddenly think that this sounds like Tom Brown's Schooldays! A student's tribute to his headmaster! And oh, there's rugby thrown in there too!

Memories of a Principal

2009-02-20T09:43:00.003-05:00

I was in the fifth standard when Mr. John Lewis took over as the Principal at Campion. Since he was the Vice-Principal at Cathedral before switching to Campion, I remember some degree of worry over how well he would "Cathedralize" the school. Almost 20 years down the line, I can sit back and reminisce, and realize what a huge difference he made to Campion. He is the only Principal I interacted with on a personal level, so it would be unfair to draw any comparisons with any of the other illustrious principals.

Mr. Lewis was moulded as a young man by the great Dr. Kuruvila Jacob, who was Principal at Cathedral when he joined, or so he told my parents. Maths was his passion, and each and everyone of his students will remember his Rs. 15 mathematics book and his encouraging words of "The more I practice, the more I score, and score I must". He introduced a plethora of co-curricular activities at school, including the much dreaded gymnastics which became a part of every PT period during the monsoons when we could not play outside in the Back Gardens! House games were dismissed as a bane initially, but today I look back and realize how much fun we had, the wind in our hair, often playing well beyond time, with the sun making its slow descent into the evening.

Introducing the fourth house (Berchmans) was a master-stroke, since it created a situation where there would be one house in every competition which would be left without even the wooden spoon. It divided a lot of us, who had spent 5 solid years fighting for Loyola; but at the same time it made us strive harder to do well, since we peace-loving Loyolaites were rather happy getting our bronze-medals without much effort. And who can forget the one day in January every year when bus-loads of bleary-eyed teenagers would be transported to an absolute dustbowl called the Aarey Milk Colony and made to run through streams, slush, bush and brambles as part of what was dubbed the Annual Cross-Country Race. The dust-bowl had been witness to one of the greatest battles in the annals of Indian television, and the place was strewn with the remnants of the various 'chariots' of the heroes from BR Chopra's epic "Mahabharatha". I'd love to say that it made a jogger out of me, and stressed the importance of fitness.

The morning assemblies were quite a lot of fun, with the introduction of Mr. Lewis' little red book aka the hymnal. Every student was expected to have a hymnal, and sing the hymns with gusto every day. It had about 50 hymns, but Mr. Lewis had his favorites and needless to say I can sing "Give me oil in my lamp" and "Whole world in His hands" if you wake me up in the middle of the night! Some time in the 8th, we caught on to Mr. Lewis' pronounciation of "in his" and for a good three years we enjoyed singing that the good Lord had the "whole world INEEEEEEEEEEZ hands", much to the consternation of Mr. Eddie Noronha and Mr. Alvaro. My classmates still have not forgotten the day he sang the Cathedral school song instead of "Campion Calls...", and topped it off with some hums and la-la's once he realized his mistake!

I have a lot to thank the gentleman for, personally. He paid for an ambulance once, the first time I twisted my knee and made sure that I got taken care of at Bombay Hospital. My mother was quite amused to hear him chuckle about how he had "his parents working at Bombay Hospital" and how it was not a huge deal to make sure that I was well taken care of. She had visions of a school principal's parents slogging it out at the hospital - she still remembers him for that. He was a strict man, but he softened up to me after all the quizzes and debates I participated in; even letting me bunk one Chemistry lab (much to Mr. Colaco's irritation) and watch a couple of good friends from Cathedral debate against Hiranandani Foundation.

Idiosyncrasies aside, he was a good man, and he probably did a lot more for Campion than we realized or gave him credit for back then (or today for that matter). Mr. John S. Lewis passed away this morning. To scores of Campionites who saw the 'good times' in the 90's with him, he will be saluted as he moves on to Elysian Fields to join the pantheon of other Campion/Cathedral greats. He's now well and truly "ineez" hands, and He will take good care of him!

Happy birthday Vishy!

2009-02-14T14:27:00.002-05:00

One of the greatest Indian cricketers turned 60 the other day. GR Viswanath was the classiest cricketer in every sense, according to Achan. According to him, the greatness of a batsman was defined not by the records he broke, but by the way he got out. People still talk about the absolute beauty of a yorker he got from Imran in the 1982-83 series, which came out of nowhere to hit the stumps. There aren't too many videos around of Vishy's artistry, and to today's YouTube/20-20 generation, he will remain just another name in the annals of Indian cricket. But he was probably one of the most technically correct batsmen to have every played for India - the other two being Sunny Gavaskar and the man who used to be called Rahul Dravid (there's an impostor who's been on the loose the last year or so).

The knock he will forever be remember for was the 97 he smashed against a rampaging Windies pace attack at the Chepauk in 1975, which was ranked 38th on Wisden's Top 100 innings by batsmen. According to the master himself, he ranked the century he made in the previous test at the Eden Gardens as his personal favorite. The interview with Cricinfo is a delight to read, and one can imagine Vishy with his infectiously naughty grin reminiscing on his career!

Baseball- it is what it is!

2009-02-08T20:51:00.004-05:00

Now that A-Rod stands accused of steroid-use, Jayson Stark writes about what the Baseball Hall of Fame might look like soon. And it is a huge shock when you consider the full meaning of what might be:

The all-time hits leader (Mr. Peter E. Rose) won't be in the Hall of Fame.
The all-time home run leader (assuming that's where A-Rod's highway leads him) won't be in the Hall of Fame.
The man who broke Hank Aaron's career record (Barry Bonds) won't be in the Hall.
The man who broke Roger Maris' single-season record (Mark McGwire) won't be in the Hall.
The man who was once the winningest right-handed pitcher of the live-ball era (Roger Clemens) won't be in the Hall.
The man with the most 60-homer seasons in baseball history (Sammy Sosa) doesn't look like he's headed for the Hall, either.

Back in 1998, I followed the home-run chase with bated breath, catching up on all the latest news on the 8pm CNN World Sport bulletin. I dare say everyone was drunk with the power of the bat, waiting and hoping that Roger Maris' record would fall. Back then Roger Maris was just a name for me, but today he is a demi-god who belted the ball like no one except possibly The Babe, that too without 'juicing himself' - and mind you, he is not in the Hall of Fame.

The change in Bonds was visible to one and all, as his head just ballooned (or maybe it was just his ego). McGwire too bulked up, and cut a sorry figure with his self-induced amnesia at the Congressional hearings in 2005. Sammy Sosa became a bundle of bumbles at the same hearing, while good old Rafael Paleiro wagged his index finger like Mr. Clinton and claimed "I did not have relations with that woman"....oops..."I have never used steroids".

Which begs the question about A-Rod? Well, like Mr. McNamee said: It is what it is!

Invincible....

2009-02-06T21:51:00.003-05:00

There is a song which rings so true nowadays....called "Invincible" by Pat Benatar, written way back in 1985!

We cant afford to be innocent
Stand up and face the enemy
Its a do or die situation
We will be invincible
And with the power of conviction
There is no sacrifice
Its a do or die situation
We will be INVINCIBLE....

That's what the armed forces (and the heroes of 26/11 believe in)....the power of conviction...no sacrifices....they will be INVINCIBLE. The pols are a different story, I guess!

Sashti-poorthi of the Republic

2009-01-25T17:37:00.003-05:00

Our Republic turned 60 today, and like every 60 year old has had more than its share of crests and troughs.

For many of us Republic Day was just another holiday, with flag-hoisting ceremonies in school and in our apartment complexes. Some of us preferred to bunk school, as 'anyway there was no teacher taking attendance', and stay at home. For others, it was exciting to watch each state try to outdo the other with colorful floats which made their way down Rajpath. But what really touched a chord was the co-ordinated marchpast of the various services, along with the children who won Bravery Awards astride their elephants.

A variety of civilian and military awards have been announced. Controversies aside, it was but expected that heroes from 26/11 got their share of recognition. The fact that Tukaram Ombale will be honored with a posthumous Ashoka Chakra is rather refreshing. His tale of bravery is something which must not be forgotten, in a nation which forgets its true heroes easily. It takes a lion's heart to unflinchingly (and not to forget unarmed) take on a terrorist armed with an AK-47 rifle.

And so today, while we salute those who have won awards for bravery, we also pay tribute to those who have laid down their lives and go un-named in battliefieds ranging from the snows of Siachen to the dusty deserts of Northern Africa. There is a poem we learnt in school called "Pushp ki Abhilasha" by Makhanlal Chaturvedi, which rings so true every day, especially today:

पुष्प की अभिलाषा
- माखनलाल चतुर्वेदी (Makhanlal Chaturvedi)

चाह नहीं मैं सुरबाला के
गहनों में गूँथा जाऊँ

चाह नहीं, प्रेमी-माला में
बिंध प्यारी को ललचाऊँ

चाह नहीं, सम्राटों के शव
पर हे हरि, डाला जाऊँ

चाह नहीं, देवों के सिर पर
चढ़ूँ भाग्य पर इठलाऊँ

मुझे तोड़ लेना वनमाली
उस पथ पर देना तुम फेंक

मातृभूमि पर शीश चढ़ाने
जिस पर जावें वीर अनेक ।।

Translation by Prashant (Courtesy of Arch at Rang)

I don't want to be a part of the necklace of the beautiful girl,
I don't want to woo the lady love,
I don't want to be spread over dead bodies,
I don't want to act snob, after someone offers me to the Gods

Just pluck me Gardner and throw me on the road,
which is taken by the brave soldiers to give away their lives for the Motherland !

Profound words, indeed!

Waiting for the Mahatma

2009-01-20T17:10:00.003-05:00

While I read RK Narayan's "Waiting for the Mahatma", for a lot of folks, their wait for their "Mahatma" finally came to an end at the stroke of noon. History was made, as Barack Hussein Obama was finally sworn in as President. The expectations are high, a sense of hope pervades the current economic nadir, and Obama has been clear that he is going to take on whatever comes his way head-on. Hindsight (which is always 20:20) twenty years down the line will tell us if the euphoria was really worth it!

There's something about Obama (with due apologies to Mary). It takes a lot to get ordinary people (who have absolutely no say in the American political process) excited over your speeches, hopes and plans. The way the man has energized people here can only evoke comparisons with the Mahatma himself. People might object to my putting Obama ahead of the Rev. Martin Luther King, but one has to remember that MLK's reach was limited. But that aside, today, a little more than forty years after his (senseless) death his torch has been carried into the White House by Obama. The Reverend and the Mahatma must be smiling, wherever they are.

Gandhiji focused a floundering freedom effort and finally freed us from British shackles. He did it 'his way' (the non-violent one), and it ultimately paid dividends. As we all know, we are a passive society, and it was but natural that the non-violent struggle of Gandhi and his followers trumped the violent one espoused by Netaji Subhas Chandra Bose and his INA. At the same time, I wonder what might have happened had the majority of Indians followed Netaji and taken to the INA. All said and done, he was much more charismatic than the 'half naked Indian fakir' (as Churchill once referred to the Mahatma).

And so today, 60 odd years after Independence, the legacy of Gandhi is sealed and celebrated. He is uniformly hailed as one of the greatest to have walked the face of this earth. But at the same time, the legacy of India as a nation remains blurry. Although Nehru did a lot for the development of a fledgling nation, his greed and arrogance are probably to blame for most of India's ills. Coveting the PM's post was debatably the primary folly (I am not sure what life might have been like had we had Mr. Jinnah as our first PM), and secondary one was his over-indulgence of Krishna Menon's shenanigans which ultimately led to our defeat in the '62 war with China and left Nehru a broken man (so wrote Dr. Ramachandra Guha in his masterpiece on Independent India). In our usual passivity (and the warmth of the whole Hindi-Chini-Bhai-Bhai glow propagated by Nehru) we let the Chinese army overrun our territories. We still remain a passive nation, rarely taking decisive action - the chalta hai attitude pervades.

But still, Chacha-ji is celebrated as a great orator and a fine gentleman, occupying his deserved place in the pantheon of Indian greats. So all said and done, even if Obama is counted as a 'failure' four/eight years down the line, he would unarguably have been one of the greatest orators to have walked this earth. The legacy of his predecessor might look grey right now, but only time will tell!

Slumdog Millionaire

2009-01-15T22:47:00.004-05:00

It was nice to see "Slumdog Millionaire" garner the main prize at the Golden Globes over the weekend. But the brickbats which came its way the next day from the Big B was surprising.to say the least - I dare say it sounded like a case of sour grapes.

Although I have not seen the movie yet (and I look forward to the weekend to tick that off on my to-do list) or read the book (which will arrive soon, I hope), some folks did warn me about the picture it painted of India, and its darker side. I think the average Indian (not very different from me) is caught between two critical issues; the primary feel-good factor of an India-centric movie earning plaudits at a major awards show, while on the other hand (s)he wonders if the gora director is actually taking a condescending dig at India and its poverty. At the same time, if Danny Boyle had shifted locales and the hero actually came from some impoverished corner of England/USA, I doubt anyone would have turned a hair. The fact remains that the film is based on an Indian book, written by an Indian author, so it was but natural for the director to choose an Indian background.

At the same time, the Big B's views got me thinking about our 'colonial hangover'. The venerable Dr. Ramachandra Guha had just written about what he called our 'craving for Western approval' the other day in the Sunday Magazine of the Hindu. The telling line in there is the killer-punch in which he muses on a theory he has "long held about our self-proclaimed patriots — that the more Indian and the more Hindu they claim to be, the more they seek and need certificates from White men."

I cannot really think of a bright, vibrant movie made by a Westerner, using an Indian locale (note: I am not counting Mire Nair's "Monsoon Wedding"). Two 'mainstream' movies which come to mind immediately are "Heat and Dust" and David Lean's masterpiece "A Passage to India". All said and done, the latter plays on a lot of standard Indian stereotypes portrayed in the Western media (and believe it or not, Wikipedia actually has a whole section devoted to these stereotypes!). And the movie had its share of Oscar nominations, in addition to winning the Golden Globe back then for "Best Foreign Film"! I eagerly await the Oscar nominations and the final ceremony (more out of wishing to see if Heath Ledger is nominated and wins for his master-role as the Joker - every time I watch the movie, I appreciate his work even more).

On a slightly tangential note, I happened to watch Santosh Sivan's "Before The Rains" over the weekend on DVD. The camera-work was phenomenal (or were the locales just mind-blowing, I wonder?), the plot rather gripping and the acting was top-notch. I have to admit that Rahul Bose and Nandita Das have horrible accents, both in their Malayalam enunciation as well as their contrived effort to sound earthy and shed their convent-educated accents. But at the same time, I am not sure if a Mohanlal/Mammooty (or any mainstream Malayali actor) would have done justice to Rahul Bose's role - the vulnerability of the man just shines through in his eyes.

Some food for thought on our identity post-26/11

2008-12-12T10:43:00.008-05:00

The Campion family lost Sunil Parekh (Class of 1978) and his wife Reshma in the attacks at the Oberoi, and Patrick has a nice tribute to Sunil and Reshma, with a video celebrating his life. The part of the video showing Sunil in full form at a class reunion was touching to say the least!

It's been very interesting to see some articles being posted on the Old Campionites Association website. The batch of 1987 has been the most active, with Aashish Contractor (Britto) and Jai Natarajan (Xavier) writing two brilliant articles (in my humble opinion) capturing the essence of the change we need, and 'change we can believe in'! My venerable schoomaster Mr. Indrajit Panjabi (litterateur and librateur sans pareil) called them pieces worthy of TIME/Newsweek!

Aashish was on the scene at Leopold helping out (he's a doctor), and first wrote about his first-hand experiences here. He has hit the nail on the head in saying that over the past fortnight "One of the greatest hurdles that faces us as a nation today is our tendency to obfuscate issues, and no one has given us greater training in that art, than our politicians." The departure of Mr. Beautiful Idiot (aka Shivraj Patil) and the other Patil (RR) were steps taken forward, but sleepwalked back again (to quote Floyd, and Amit Varma). He goes on to talk about our 'chalta hai' attitude, accepting everything which comes our way, be it the corrupt police-force or lack of basic facilities for half the population, as long as we can live in our plush environs. The solution he proposes, of giving every person a sense of ownership of the safety and prosperity of the city might be a tad tough to accomplish although. I am not sure whether the 'communal issues' went up in flames in 2002, or whether it's been on low simmer since 1990-91 when Mr. Advani decided to go retro in his rath.

Jai on the other hand, has written a more emotional article, mincing no words in stating that "Mumbaikars over decades of greed and rapacity, have destroyed rule of law and corrupted the systems which should have protected us. We are the system. We are the reality of Mumbai. We are its pestilence. It is convenient to demand action, to demand results, somehow, anyhow. Can we believe in a fantasy that a bureaucracy, government and law enforcement apparatus which have never delivered anything meaningful, which we have ourselves strangled over the years, can suddenly start delivering results in one narrow sphere of security?"

He has taken a dispassionate view on the situation, hitting a raw nerve, and I guess a lot of folks will be up in arms after reading his post. What he writes does largely hold true - l do believe that the nation suffers from a slight lack of unity as a whole. And the only reason why such a hue and cry is being raised is due to the fact that the places hit were hangouts and the rich and famous (with all due respect to the people who perished in those unfortunate circumstances). As Jai wrote: "Neither Mr. Tata with his billions nor Mr. Bachchan with his pistol was there to save us on Wednesday night. We were saved by lower middle class jawans who on a normal Sunday would not even be allowed to enter the Taj or Oberoi by the security, who cannot even afford a Thums Up at Souk. Do we even deserve these amazing young men to fight and die for us when every public figure and Page 3 celebrity is on air spewing verbal diarrhea about our fear and trauma?". This is probably the first time we have seen the Page 3 varieties of Bombay come out from their coccoons and speak out. It has always been the common man who has been caught in the crossifire, and I am skeptical about any reasonable 'change' happening (not even Rata Tata as the next Obama).

And so to the solution: Unless we re-engage our civic society as responsible and honest citizens of our own free will, we cannot expect better from our institutions. Let’s start with the hard, thankless and unglamorous task of fixing the broken windows and potholes. We have a very long way to go before reclaiming our Maximum City from what we have allowed it to become. Only then can we show the lead to the rest of the nation as we have always prided ourselves on doing.

Much as this makes sense on paper, I am not sure how practical it is. There is a dire need for us to make our nation more 'secure'; the pothole and window fixing will follow automatically. I know of folks who used to stay at the Oberoi, but then shifted to the Taj Heritage as there were rumors floating around about people of 'questionable character/antecedents' living at the Oberoi on a long-term basis. The agencies probably knew, but they never followed up. Why? Because of the general 'chalta hai' attitude which has percolated throughout our society.

And where does the change have to come? To a large extent, the common man is finally showing signs that he is sick and tired of the politicians who have gotten our nation into this quagmire, and although an honest politician is an oxymoron, realization has finally dawned that we don't need Judas-es. It is clear that corruption needs to slowly weeded out, especially in places where it involves national security. And of course, the security forces need to be prepared for any eventuality and properly equipped to handle it.

We cannot afford to let another 26-11 happen to our nation, at any cost. The signs are there for all to see, the action(s) remains to be taken.

Masala in the media

2008-12-08T12:40:00.005-05:00

Came across an interesting post on Shiva's blog this morning, raising some fairly pertinent questions about the role of the media (in light of the events of November 26th). He wrote:

It gets worse when it gets sensational and stupid. Picture Barkha Dutt walking up to bedsheets hanging from a window in that cursed hotel talking about how people used that as a lifeline, mindlessly repeating the same thing. Where is the homework? Reportage is like my daughters fighting over who is first. Analysis is about supplying verbiage and making people cry. Presentation is intrusive, voyeuristic and worse, narcissistic.

The Thanksgiving weekend was the first time in about five years that I really got hooked to telly signals beamed straight out of India (courtesy CNN-IBN), much to the chagrin of the people around me. Although CNN did carry the Bombay news as its main item, overriding everything else, the choice of experts called in on Wednesday night (EST) was rather poor, with Deepak Chopra and some nondescript bloke (who looked like he had been yanked right out of a club and into the studios, disheveled hair and all) answering Larry King's inane questions, spouting their own weird conspiracy theories. They did have Amit Varma on the show, making it sound like he was in the thick of the action, but sadly Amit "couldn’t offer him any dope there".

Amit was spot-on in his analysis:

....such theories are a consequence of our tendency as a species to want to give gyan. A media pundit, especially, feels compelled to have a narrative for everything. Everything must be explicable, and television expects instant analysis.
This is foolish, for sometimes events are complicated, and we simply need to wait for more information to emerge before we can understand it. But many of us—not just the pundits—don’t have the humility to accept that. We want to feel in control, at least on an intellectual level, so reasons and theories emerge. But the world is really far too complicated for us. Yet somehow we muddle along.

I think this holds true for all the hoopla that played out on Indian telly channels, causing Shiva to write his anguished post.

I'm sure a lot of us followed cricket matches in school, with the radios carefully hidden underneath our desks. In the middle of a dull Hindi lesson, our antennas would detect a sudden surge in the near-mute commentary (I dare say jabber) emanating from the radios (yes, there were about 7 or 8 of them spread all over class) and heads would suddenly drop, to listen to what the excitement was all about. Sad to say, but the Indian radio commentators of the late 80s through the mid-90s were like rough coir compared to the (supposed) silk of AFS "Bobby" Taleyarkhan (I don't think I have ever heard him, but he is unequivocally considered one of the greatest commentators India has produced). The average radio commentator on AIR was more renowned for his shrieks than for substance. I remember reading somewhere (not sure if it was Harsha Bhogle or Richie Benaud) about the real art of radio commentary being in the ability to paint a picture of what was going on, without unnecessary hype and with minimum words. The same applies to television undoubtedly.

In the end, I cannot really blame the media for the way they deal with the news (and report it), since after all it can only be as good as the general audience it caters to, to use a cliched statement. We love our masalas, be it on the 7pm soap or in our 10pm dinner. So what's wrong if it's in the 9 o'clock news?

PS: Usual disclaimers apply!

Lost for words

2008-11-28T19:47:00.007-05:00

A lot has been said (in print and on the telly) about the latest from Bombay. I started writing this post filled with a sense of what I would call 'frustrated anger' (?) at what was happening to the 'city of my youth', as my fellow Campionite Rajdeep Sardesai called it. It's a different story that I was driving in the mountains around the Asheville area, far away from any news-source, and I was on 'simmer mode' all the way on the I-26 and the SC-25. Anger at the people behind the attacks, and frustration at the political elite for obvious reasons. Over the three days the saga played out, I think a more rational outlook on things emerged in my head. I have been lucky not to know of any friends who lost their lives or those of their near and dear ones (touchwood), and am thankful to the "Great Umpire" up there for not raising His dreaded finger. My father was to have stayed at the Taj starting Thursday, but the meeting was canceled! (Note: He used to stay at the Oberoi, but moved out since there were rumors floating around about residents using the premises for questionable purposes

Bombay was home to me for 15 years. When I was three, and I was staying with my grandparents (while Achan set up house in Bombay), Bombay was some magical place in my mind - the proverbial city of dreams. I left in 1998 (from VT; not CST), without bidding it a proper farewell, with the thought that I'd always be back for one more tango. The sad part is that I never went back for more than a weekend, save for a month in the summer of 2001, when I interned with Hindustan Lever at their Sewri factory. For reasons I cannot explain, with every visit back I just felt that the city had changed so much. To draw cliched analogy, it was catching up an old crush - you wonder how it all changed so much and whether it was for the best.

I have walked the streets where it all unfolded god knows how many times. The Taj and Oberoi were hangouts reserved for times when folks visited from the US (and from the mid 90s, my father's chosen hotels when he was in Bombay for meetings), while (all said and done) Leopold was a "slightly shady, downmarket eatery patronised by hippies and harlots" (Vinod Mehta could not have put it better!). Colaba was my neck of the woods, and it felt strange to see so many places I have known so well become terror targets. The Metro theater (now called Metro AdLabs, and thankfully restored to its old glory) was where we often watched movies in school, and ate pizzas from "Intermission" (not sure if it still exists). I do admit that I still am lost as to the exact location of the Nariman House/Jewish Center, but do know that it's somewhere in the vicinity of Colaba Market/Pasta Lanes - I just cannot remember which buildings lie on that road or some friend/acquaintance who lives there (which is often how many of us identify streets and apartment complexes)!

A million questions have been asked, and the wise (wo)men have put forward their own theories. I can only pray and hope that good sense prevails (both amongst the powers that be and the seemingly powerless citizens) and the right moves are made to safeguard the common man, who invariably is the victim of these incidents. Rational thinking is probably the need of the hour, and unfortunately some politicians have resorted to their usual tricks of shooting from the hip, which I think has been shameful. People talk endlessly about the resilience of the people of Bombay, but I think that streak is present in people everywhere, be it NYC, London, Madrid, Bali or even the tsunami-affected areas. It's probably just plain human nature, and not the greatness of the people from one city or another - I guess folks will disagree with me on this one.

Last but not the least, I must acknowledge some folks whose blogs/photos kept me 'in the loop' with their perspectives on the events. I don't mean to sound parochial, but one often tends to relate to the words/sights/sounds of the 'sons of the soil' - they tell it from an angle that seems so familiar.
Amit Varma and his four year old baby "India Uncut"
Prem Panicker and his "Smoke Signals"
Vinu Kumar Ranganathan's Online Cloud and Flickers (of Hope)
Dr. Arun Shanbhag, a fellow Colaba-wallah and Clemson-wallah, one level ahead of me on the Dr. Jonathan Black research tree.

Note: Usual disclaimers apply for this post. I don't mean to sound like a pundit, and write this as an anguished Indian, wondering why this keeps happening to his 'hometown'. A lot of folks from South Mumbai would probably feel the same.

Adios Anil

2008-11-02T09:35:00.003-05:00

I woke up this morning to two things (or rather transitions) which made me pause and go "Wow!". The first one of course was the change from daylight savings to standard time. The other one, was a stopped me dead in my tracks.
Anil Kumble began his playing career (for India) sometime in 1990, when he was part of the squad at the Australasia Cup - an age when we had to rely on Teenage Video Library for highlights of various cricket tournaments on video cassettes. At that point, he was just another bespectacled spinner and I cannot remember him being hailed as the next Bedi/Chandra/Prasanna (not unlike another Aussie bloke, who had a rather unremarkable start to his career). After looking at his Test and ODI profile on Cricinfo, he was in and out of the team until the home series against England in 1992-93.
It was in this series that he 'came of age', bamboozling the best (not necessarily the brightest) boys from the Old Blighty, in tandem with Venkatapathy Raju and Rajesh Chauhan. I remember watching that series and growing to like the man - partly due to the fact that he was born exactly a decade before I was, but mainly due to his simple, unassuming demeanor (the wickets and matches won were always there).
A lot has been said about his heroics, with the bat and ball, with a bum jaw and cut left hand. But for me, the moment that is another critically 'defining' one for Kumble was the camp held for the Indian players before they faced the Aussies at home, in 2001. Everyone knows Kumble was just recovering from shoulder surgery, but there he was at IIT-Chemplast, arm in a sling, taking an active part in the preparations. He could easily have been elsewhere, but battled it out in the hot sun, deep in a discussion with a young bloke in a puggree while a weather-beaten New Zealander looked on admiringly. [I am guessing someone will bring this point up in his/her tribute to Kumble].
It is sad to see good ol' Kumbles move on, but what brought a smile to my face (and perhaps his) was the fact that he did it with DIGNITY. That too, on his favorite hunting ground at the Kotla, with Sachin handing over his cap one last time to the umpire!
If there was one song that comes to mind for Kumble, it is Lynyrd Skynyrd's "Simple Man":

And be a simple kind of man.
Be something you love and understand.
Be a simple kind of man.......
.................................
Forget your lust for the rich mans gold
All that you need is in your soul,
And you can do this if you try.......
..............
Boy, dont you worry... youll find yourself.
Follow you heart and nothing else.
And you can do this if you try.
All I want for you my son,
Is to be satisfied.

Woh Lamhe - Part Moonu: The "club"

2008-10-08T19:29:00.004-04:00

Valiachan had his typewriter in the small room on the first floor. Back in the day, when there were no computers and email, he used to painstakingly type out letters on his faithful typewriter and send them out to various people/companies. Often, letters to one of his siblings would be carbon-copied to a few others (I don't know why, and I doubt he cc-ed the other ten!). And I'm sure he wrote some of his (in)famous vedi poetry up there. You could have called it his 'study' - it was a quiet place - one where he could compose his thoughts and put them down on paper. As always, I don't have much by way of memories of those days, but just fleeting glimpses.

Later on, on a summer evening, bored of playing cricket, R & I decided to make Valiachan's 'study' a shrine to numerous sports superstars and called it the "P.T.Koman Nayar Club". Ammamma gave her permission gladly (I guess she thought we'd stay out of mischief while setting up the club), and so after a few token signatures from her, Amma and Ammama, the club was created. It was graced by posters from Sportstar magazine, with stars from yesteryear like Bradman & Truman, and ofcourse flavors of the 80's like Graf, Kapil, Edberg and Richards. Not one inch of space on the wall was left untouched (and I'm sure that Ammamma was thankful we didn't use the ceiling!), and the front and back of the door was reserved for the best posters.

From the store-room next door, we dragged in a charpoy-like bed and got a bedspread for it. It would serve as our afternoon hangout, a silent witness to many a joke and endless (and sometimes mindless) laughter. J-Valliamma and MK-Valliamma on hearing of our club, gifted us a set of table-tennis rackets and balls, and once we brought in a table from the store-room, we were all set to play TT. And so it went, TT in the mornings upstairs in the club, and 'tennis' in the evenings in the verandah! And so the 'boys of summer' had their fun....

A few years later, we had to pull down the posters when the decision was made to rent the house out. It was a sad evening, as we bid goodbye to Vengsarkar, Sampras, Greenidge, Pele and about 40 other stars! They had livened up many a summer afternoon, witness to the banter of a bunch of crazy boys and now they were consigned to the scrap heap!

And so, when we finally moved to Coimbatore in 2002, it was like rediscovering an old, beloved haunt once again. Much as I would have loved to have the old 'club room' as my room, I ended up getting one of the bedrooms downstairs (it has its own set of memories, which I guess I'll write about in the future). Achan made the 'club room' his adda, with one part devoted to his pooja stuff, and the other part has the CD player and his huge music collection.

Today, I think of the room as "Achan's pooja room"; somehow the days of the 'club room' are long gone by. But sometimes I have a good old chuckle thinking about what it was before it became a room of worship - the first place I really "hung out". And in the quiet serenity of the room, you sometimes hear the laughter of two kids, and sounds of a table-tennis ball going up and down a makeshift TT-table.

Woh Lamhe - Part Deux: The verandah

2008-09-30T19:13:00.010-04:00

The house would lose so much of its charm without the verandah. Spacious and airy, I think Valiachan spent most of his mornings sitting out in the verandah and enjoying his newspapers/magazines. Post-tea, he would again venture out to take in the cool evening breeze, and watch the sun set - mind you, this was before the place (over)developed. More often than not, someone would drop by during their evening walk to have a short chat. There was a time in the early 70's when you could see all the way to Maruthamalai from our verandah.

The verandah will always be the place where my parents got married - as did Chittamma and RKM. I wonder if there will be another grand event (like those two weddings) gracing the verandah again. The whole idea of getting married in the same place where your parents got married is a rather "cool idea", and there's still time!

On one of the walls, next to the front door, Valiachan used to keep track of the heights of all his grandchildren, noting down the date and height in pencil. Sadly, those marks were whitewashed a long time back; but it would have been interesting (and a humbling experience) to see how we all grew. During our summer vacations, Rama and I would convert the verandah into our own Wimbledon, to play our own version of tennis, with table-tennis rackets and balls, pretending to pit Rod Laver against Bjorn Borg. (And oh yes, Laver always won!).

But the best part of the verandah was the thinna (the cement bench running around half the verandah, for the lack of a better term to describe it). How I would kill to be back home, sitting on it, watching everything go past, Amma picking jasmines in the garden, Valiachan 'chilling out' on his chair, Ammamma looking at all her flowers and Achan sitting on the thinna enjoying a good snooze!

Woh Lamhe - Part Uno: The garden

2008-09-26T17:21:00.005-04:00

For whatever reason, this trip home was a little different - and Amma and Achan felt the same too. There was a lot of discussion, a lot of reading, a fair bit of thinking, loads of laughter, a tinge of sadness (normal when you leave), a wedding, just one movie (watched with Amma and Achan) and a lot less TV! And I'm still thinking, a fortnight after getting back to the US. The house looks older, but brings back the same memories.

The board outside the house still reads P.T.Koman Nayar, although its now a granite one. The driveway leading to the house is still dusty, and becomes a little slushy when it rains. Valiachan used to walk up and down the driveway every morning, sometimes with his youngest grandson for company. His walk would almost always be interrupted by the cries of a pazham-vandi selling his favorite bananas. Bananas safely deposited on the sideboard, he and I would be back on the driveway trying to get to '10 rounds'. It was fun, I remember, for my Valiachan was a man with a great sense of humor.

As a boy, my idea of fun was playing with a tennis ball in Ammamma's carefully manicured garden. Either Valiachan, Ammamma or Amma/Achan kept an eagle eye on me from the veranda, ensuring that I didn't trample any of Ammamma's plants - though Valiachan would be deep into his newspaper or magazine and doze off after a while. Ammamma loved gardening, and
it used to be a plethora of colors with a variety of flowers, with many huge trees creating a nice shade. The garden today is a lot different, with a lot less plants and fewer trees, which had to be cut as they were interfering with the telephone and electricity poles. But what is striking is that the "tree house" is gone.

The "tree-house" was something that Valiachan constructed along one of the corners of the compound. No one really knows why he made it, but the lower level had a store-room at one end, and the other end was a garage where I remember Valliammama used to park his car. The top upper level was just open space, with an asbestos roof. For some strange reason, Rama and I liked the place, and we spent many a crazy evening goofing off up there. It was demolished around the time we moved back in, and although the place looks brighter, the "tree house" still makes me go back 15 years and cherish the good times we had.

Some time in the late 80's, Janthi-A gifted Rama and me a set of kites. What a whale of a time we had, letting it loose, higher and higher. It wasn't a competition really, but just the sheer joy of seeing something in graceful flight, soaring up into the sky. The kites never broke, giving us one unforgettable summer.

Everything looks so much smaller when you grow up. It is sometimes tough to believe that Rama and I used to play (over-arm) cricket along the driveway - today I would probably have to stand closer to the kitchen if we ever played again. Yesterday's 50 steps are today's 20 - I guess that's the way it always is! But sometimes if you look out from the verandah, you might see two boys laughing and playing outside in the garden in the sunshine.

Misguided nation?

2008-06-28T12:13:00.003-04:00

Krishna Prasad outdoes himself again with a brilliant article talking about the lack of VIP-representation at Field Marshal Manekshaw's funeral yesterday. The fact that the man was celebrated (in life, and in death) by the men who served with/under him, and by the common man, speaks volumes about his greatness. We don't need really need the cliched statements of politicians which have the usual sprinkling of words - 'great soldier', 'service to the nation', 'soul rest in peace'.
I have said this before and I say this again: we are a nation with a majorly short short-term memory, although Mr. B. Raman contends that we are a nation with NO MEMORY! The press is probably also at fault - especially when they prefer to cover the arrival of a person of (possibly) questionable integrity and honor, instead of paying tribute to some of the bravest men who have lost their lives protecting the nation.
The fact that the politicians/VIPs could not spare time to pay tribute (in person) to the Field Marshal does not take away anything from the greatness of the man, but speaks more about the politicians/VIPs. Much as I was disappointed by this (lack of VIPs, not the article!), I am sure the immediate family preferred it that way. He was a gentleman who valued his privacy, I'm sure, which probably explains why he settled in Wellington, as far away from Delhi as he could possibly get! The Field Marshal was a man of integrity I'm sure , and he must be smiling that sly smile of his sitting up there, as if to say "I'm glad you never came to see me at the end!".
In the much-used words of Kipling, he was a man who walked with kings and yet didn't lose his common touch!

R.I.P "Sam Bahadur"

2008-06-26T23:35:00.002-04:00

The first time I encountered him, he was the 'gentleman with the handlebar mustache' sitting in the seat behind me on the flight to Coimbatore.
The second time our paths crossed, he was sitting in the first-class section and got royal treatment when he got off the flight at Peelamedu.
By the time I ran into him again about a year later, I had heard/read a little about the war of 1971 - largely thanks to the Doordarshan serial on the men who have won the Param Vir Chakra. The initials were etched in my mind - SHFJ, a rather long name. So when my father told me at the airport that the gentleman sitting alone in the front row (whom we had seen so often) was the indomitable Field Marshal, I was finally (knowingly) meeting a legend. As he sat blissfully enjoying his peace in the newly renovated Coimbatore airport, this 15 year old gawky guy decided to wish the great man and request his autograph.
Sam Bahadur Sahab being Sam Bahadur Sahab wanted to know why I wanted 'an autograph of this old man". "Go chase the cricketers", he said. Sometimes in the presence of true greatness, your tongue turns to water and I cannot remember what I said, except for a few disjointed words about 'great hero of India'. All the same, he was gracious enough to sign and wish me well in growing up and serving the nation well.
The last time I saw him was on the afternoon of August 30th 2003 - the day I left home for the US. I was expecting to see some actor/actress on their way to a shoot in Ooty. As always, the flight (from Bombay) came to a halt a short distance away from the main terminal and I stared into the distance to watch the passengers disembark. A familiar gentleman, his trademark white handlebars still perfectly in place, walked (fairly) ramrod straight from the aircraft to the main terminal. As he got closer, I realized it was Field Marshal Manekshaw and I smiled to myself. I am fairly sure very few people recognized him, since he just walked undisturbed (no pesky teenagers bothering him) and handed over his bag to the armyman who was waiting to receive the great man. And then they exited the terminal and probably drove off into the Nilgiris.
At the risk of sounding corny/cliched, one of India's greatest sons moved on to Elysian Fields today. India forgets her true hero(ine)s too often and too easily. Our true heros are not necessarily the blokes who can hold a bat and hit a ball, but the brave (wo)men who have put their lives at risk/laid down their lives in many a battlefield not just in India, but all over the world. For every Sam Manekshaw, there is a Rifleman Manoj Kumar and a Lance Naik Karam Singh.
Field Marshal Sam Hormusji Framji Jamshedji Manekshaw, R.I.P!

The weed and the monkey

2008-04-27T12:12:00.003-04:00

It was a firecracker waiting to explode, and when it finally did, we had Sreesanth shedding crocodile's tears and an Harbhajan being well.....obnoxious! A lot has been written about it, and I'm guessing Sreesanth better shoulder his share of the blame.

We all know Harbhajan and his disciplinary problems, but the fact remains that more often than not he has been a good bowler, letting his bowling do the talking and generally gives back only as good as he receives (which probably is human). Sreesanth on the other hand, as the Hindustan Times wrote this morning, is more a 'showman than sportsman'.

They really hit the nail on the head, describing him as an 'attention seeking problem-child'. I have seen the same happen with a cousin of mine, who always loved provoking everyone while playing cricket (and of course crying when he got it nice and hard) and like many a kid threw a typhoon of a tantrum whenever he got out.

There's no excuse for being obnoxious, however great one may be, and Sreesanth is on par with Bhajji on the 'obnoxiometer'. It's rather creepy to hear him talk about himself in the third person, and his innate ability to rile his own team-mates must be frustrating for the Indian cricket team/coaches. I don't know if he ever sat down with a (sports) psychologist and discussed matters, and I'm guessing even the best in the business would tear their hair out trying to figure out the stuff Sreesanth is made of!

I'm waiting to see what the final decision on the matter is.

PS: Has anyone found a resemblance between Curious George and Sreesanth?

IPL blues

2008-04-27T05:59:00.004-04:00

The IPL has a become the key focus of cricket lovers over the past week - some debating its raison d'etre (1,2,3), while more recently it's been the Sreesanth-Harbhajan controversy.

With regards to the idea of the whole tournament, I think that whoever invented T20 was undoubtedly smart. The days when people would faithfully sit next to their radio and listen to the commentary of many a stalwart, are long gone by (it's a different story that the radio commentators of this day are rather strange). Today, we multi-task and are perpetually on the run, so if we could condense the usual 90-overs of a test match (or 50-overs of an ODI, for that matter) minus all the dot balls into a T20 slugfest, then we have a game on! Oh, and we get to see our dream XIs, often seen only in exhibition games, actually become reality (imagine Dhoni, Hayden and Hussey on the same team!). (Note: I was wondering if anyone remembers those exhibition games organized by MRF in the late 80s, where the Windies played against a World XI in India?).

Despite the whole idea of dream teams becoming reality, the concept/skills on display are rather unappealing. According to me, I might tend to agree with Dr. Ramachandra Guha, who wrote:

“In my opinion, Test cricket may be compared to the finest Scotch, 50-overs a side to Indian Made Foreign Liquor, and 20-20 to the local hooch.
“The addict who cannot have the first or the second will make do with the last.
“The pleasures of the shortest game are intense but also wholly ephemeral. There is no time to savour delights offered in such a rushed and heady fashion. The medium form allows one to take in the booze more leisurely…. After spending a whole day at the cricket one can, as it were, remember individual sips of the drink that one has consumed. On the other hand, after a Twenty20 game, all one remembers is that one got drunk, and one’s side won, or lost….
“So long as only hooch is on offer, I will not be seen anywhere near a television set broadcasting a cricket match. I will resume my drinking habits once the IMFL and the Scotch reappear on the menu.”

I do plead guilty to watching a few games, but have been left with an overall sense of disappointment. One of the prime reasons has been the 'money factor', which I think has been grossly over-exaggerated - I cannot fathom how David Hussey makes more money than his more accomplished sibling "Mr. Cricket" Michael Hussey! Although one may draw parallels with soccer, I think the 'masala' component (cheerleaders and all) of the IPL tends to eclipse the cricket.

It is also painful to watch some really good players like Dravid, Jaffer and Laxman simply struggle to adjust to the demands of this game. They're just not cut out for it! And to top it all, Dravid has been bestowed with a 'player/icon' status! Laxman atleast had the magnanimity to give up his icon status, so that his team could spend the money on buying better players!

Alumni loyalties

2008-02-25T23:18:00.002-05:00

As usual, Sunil takes the lead and I follow - same issue, different perspective, similar conclusions! Some folks might say I lack originality!
The Old Campionites Association (OCA) sent me an invite to their annual reunion bash (always held at the RWITC) the other day. Much as I would have loved to attend, sitting so many miles away I will have to wait to see the snaps dutifully put up on the OCA website post-March 1st. Going through the OCA website (and Patrick's too), one can't but help feel nostalgic about the times we all shared in the corridors of 13, Cooperage Road. Seeing today's titans (or Campion Champions, as they have been baptized) as little bacchhas in shorts, is amusing to say the least. Every photograph is a throwback to an era that we wished would end (let's face it, all said and done, no one liked school when we were kids), but a decade later we realize the true value of the times we spent there, and the friendships we forged.
Unlike Sunil, I am fortunate to have evaded the clutches of the University Alumni Association (or whatever moniker it goes by). Sunil was very lucky to have been part of a semi-autonomous institute/center (part of the University though), which (to an outsider/semi-insider like me) had its own 'set of rules'. But then I guess everyone had to deal with the overall bureaucracy. If Sunil gripes about his professors, then I can't say much about the ones I was taught by. Some were genuinely nice people, but the majority were mini-Hitlers. The 'great visionary' Sunil referred to taught us a course in the third/fourth semester, which is best remembered for the strict dress-code he tried to enforce and which we tried our best to ignore. And then we had to deal with the newly implemented system of TAs in our final year - an interesting move, but something which backfired miserably! I can emphatically state that most of them didn't really know their stuff well enough and most of us had this air of indifference over the whole thing.
And that is where I see the clear difference between universities here and 99% of the ones back home. The Indian education system is such, that it hinders creativity and thinking through/analyzing the whole process (something I plead guilty to on occasion). We are all 'pushed' with the idea of becoming doctors/engineers, that we learn by rote and regurgitate it with unfailing efficiency on the exam answer sheets. Even in college, we had a set of courses that we have to take and there was little room to pick and choose electives; unlike out here where choosing coursework is almost like a distraction! I strongly believe that a lot of us lacked a strong mentor in our department, who could guide us and help us focus on our professional development better. Of course it's another story when it comes to the fact that some of the professors who taught us had PhDs from our own department, but had this arrogant air about them, as if they had Ivy League PhDs. The lab technicians were fun blokes to talk to - quite unassuming folks - and they often knew more about the chemicals/experiments than the professors themselves.
But looking back at the four years I spent there, I made some good friends, acquired a taste for some amazing music, and hopefully learned something at the professional level. I am sure I will have a good time going back to the old haunts and remembering the good ol' days - as I once chuckled: "Every lamp-post has it's own story to tell".
And so, going back to the issue of loyalties, I think I have a decent sense of loyalty to every institute I have attended. They have played a role (big/small?) in shaping me into something more concrete compared to the wide-eyed tyke who walked up the steps of an institution with a glorious past (and I dare say, uncertain future) almost a decade ago.

Sayonara Crawford

2007-12-21T12:18:00.000-05:00

I was pleasantly surprised to read the headline "Crawford crawls to a historical death" on Rediff this morning! Considering the fact that I have been on a Greek/Roman epic watching spree (Troy, 300, Gladiator), replete with some very beautiful women, I thought Cindy Crawford was doing a period-movie.

It was only when I read the article, that I found that the author was referring to Crawford Market, which occupies an important place in the architectural marvels of South Bombay. It's right next to the Bombay Police Commissioner's office and maybe a mile from the Victoria Terminus. And yes, like VT, it too has been renamed as the Mahatma Phule Market. To think that it is going to be replaced by another ubiquitous mall surely makes a lot of Bombay-wallahs like me sad.

Having been there many a time during my days in Bombay, I have fond memories of the place. It had an amazing fruit and vegetable collection - I can still remember how we used to buy figs and lychees for a family friend in Coimbatore before our annual summer trip down south. And while we walked around in the April heat, we drank in the aroma of the various mangoes in their straw-packed boxes, the King Alphonso ruling over all!

As a kid, every time we drove past Crawford Market, I always looked up at the wind-vane atop the market, just to see which way the wind was blowing. I don't know if I will see it again, but I do know which way it points - in the direction of the winds of change!

Misplaced priorities (?)

2007-09-25T11:28:00.000-04:00

Our boys in blue have finally won something of note on the international scene! It is undoubtedly a huge achievement (my misgivings about the entire tournament and its hit/miss attitude notwithstanding) and it sure has them raking in the moolah.

The numbers are staggering, with one state CM outdoing his counterpart by a few lakhs, and mind you, this over and above the BCCI bonus of $3 million. I might be a bit hard-headed, since I am rather disgusted (I shall get to the point a little later in my diatribe) with this 'bending over backwards' attitude to congratulate the cricketers.

If I am correct, the players are employees of the BCCI (when they play for India) and their respective associations (when they do indeed deign to play for their state sides). As a team representing India (and the BCCI), they have got their just reward of the 20-20 prize money as well as the 'bonus' from the Board. I am sure the chief ministers can put the 10/20/30 lakhs they are splurging (possibly for the vote bank?) on these [rather] well-paid/endorsed cricketers, to some better use such as (say) a coaching centre in their states. I dare say that this money might go a long way in some sort of rural developmental work!

Keeping this in mind, let us not forget NP Pradeep, the man who led India to glory in the recently concluded Nehru Cup. To put it mildly, he overcame a host of unfavorable circumstances to reach where he is today. Although one might argue that the achievement might pale in comparison to those of the cricketers, I'd say that it is a huge step in (hopefully) the right direction. Indian football was fairly top-rung in the 1950s, but has since undergone a downward spiral. The root cause probably being the lack of facilities in the country.

I am not sure if the government even announced a bonus for the victorious Nehru Cup team, nor for the hockey stars who won the Asia Cup the other day. All goes to prove that hockey and football probably continue to remain the poorer cousins of cricket!

As a follow-up: The hockey players have gone on a hunger strike protesting the step-motherly treatment being meted out to them.

The Aussie mentality

2007-09-22T19:40:00.001-04:00

"Indian batsmen a scared lot" the article screamed at me, begging to be read! I half expected it to be Ricky Ponting/Steve Waugh starting their game of 'mental disintegration', but to my immense amusement/surprise it turned out to have come from the pie-hole belonging to a certain Rodney Hogg along with some juicy quotes from Ray Bright.

I do agree that most Indian batsmen have been rather uncomfortable against quality pace, but I would not go as far as calling them 'scared'. We have had many a brave soul who took on the best in the business and came out victorious (Sunny Gavaskar and Jimmy Amarnath to name two), unlike some Aussies wusses (Dean Jones, Steve Waugh and Alan Border among others). Lets face it, the Indians handled Marshall/Holding/Garner/Croft//Roberts better than the Aussies did, in the early 80s. Even in the last decade or so (barring the disastrous Indian tour down under in 1999-2000), the Indian batsmen have dealt with the McGraths, Lees and Gillespies without much of a hitch.

Branding the team as a bunch of scared batsmen would be a tad unfair, considering the not so distant past. Mr. Hogg had a rather undistinguished career, during which his record against India pales even further (15 wickets at nearly 52.00 runs per wicket).

Good old Ray Bright claimed India played Bangladesh a fair bit and so "they tend to stretch cricket" (whatever that's supposed to mean). Turns out, Mr. Bright isn't that bright after all. The fact remains that India's played 5 tests against Bangladesh (won 4, drawn 1), while the Aussies have played 4 Tests (and won all of them). But he came close to redeeming himself with a rather astute observation (which even a ten year old might come up with) that "Ganguly and Tendulkar are perhaps not the same players they were five years ago".

I have a gut feeling he spoke to the reporter late on a Saturday night, blissfully oblivious (but unquestionably qualified to pass comment) of his magnificent record against India (9 wickets at an average of nearly 64!). It's almost like Shivlal Yadav (who has a much better record in India-Australia tests than Mr. Not-so Bright) and Karsan Ghavri (with due respect to both of them) calling the Aussies a "bunch of wimps" in the not-so-distant future!

There are more than a few ex-Aussie cricketers who talk straight out of their wrong end. I remember this fogey called Kerry O'Keefe (as part of a blustery discussion on Aussie television just before the 2001 series) boldly predicting a 3-0 whitewash by the Aussies - I bet he was red in the face at the end of the series! Welcome to the club Messrs. Hogg and (Not-so)Bright!

And hats off to NEO Sports for digging up some absolute nondescript fossils for their views on the game!

Beamers!

2007-08-05T20:40:00.000-04:00

The great Athers (aka Michael Atherton) has given his verdict on the 'beamer' Sreesanth bowled at Pietersen, calling for Sreesanth to be banned. From the way the ball went off at a tangent, it seemed like a genuine slip.

Frankly, I like the way the Pommies seem to be suddenly terrified and vulnerable! It's all good when they indulge in their puerile acts (jellybeans and what not), but when they're in the firing line, it's all very unfair. Their coach wants the stump-mikes to be switched off, so that his (foul-mouthed) wards can give their jaws a good workout. The Indian cricket team has become quite adept at giving as good as it gets when it comes to sledging and it looks like the poor Pommies find themselves on the backfoot on that count.

But it still doesn't take anything away from the fact that Sreesanth behaved in a rather abominable fashion by shoulder-charging Michael Vaughan. Siddhartha Vaidyanathan was spot-on when he suggested Sreesanth was just "buffoonery over brilliance". It is a Malayali tendency (so I have noticed) to throw a tantrum when things don't go your way - being over emotional is our forte!

SV has a very valid point when he hopes Sreesanth doesn't go down the path (less) trodden by some other cricketers. He referred to four blokes - Sadanand Vishwanath, Maninder Singh, Vinod Kambli and Laxman Sivaramakrishnan - who were simply mind-blowing in terms of cricketing talent only to blow it all away. Sada could be forgiven his decline, as it followed the death of his parents within a few months of each other.

I had written a few lines about Kambli and Siva here, talking about Kambli's salad days. Harsha Bhogle has a brilliant article (written way back in August 1998) about Pravin Amre and Siva. Back then (apparently), Siva was in the process of plotting a comeback to first-class cricket, having spent almost a decade in the (cricketing) wilderness. For reasons unknown, nothing came of it; but it's nice (in a way) to see him on TV these days, although some folks say they'd rather be deaf than listen to Siva's inanities spewing from the commentary box. There are a few lines which stand out from Harsha's article, where he quotes Sachin Tendulkar as saying how he was a huge fan of Siva and it was an honor to have him bowling to him in the nets at Chepauk (before the Aussies visited in 1998, when Sachin made Siva bowl into the rough outside the off-stump, so that he could take on Shane Warne).

Trapeze artists with short-term memory

2007-08-01T09:23:00.000-04:00

Another case of our politicians getting their priorities all muddled - especially when there's a cloud of doubt hanging over the issue!

The venerable B. Raman wrote recently that we are "a nation with no memory", which quite succinctly sums up the sudden rush to jump off the trapeze to be seen with the 'flavor of the month'. Yes, politicians are experienced trapeze artists - they do fall, but then they dust themselves up and continue swinging!

It is unfortunate (and unfair) that true heroes get forgotten in this circus. But then again, it's pretty much the same story everywhere - even the average Joe here is more interested in the doings and undoings of Hollywood blondes (Lohan, Beckham and their ilk), than in matters of national importance.

Looking back at Mr. Raman's article, the innumerable times our national security has been compromised is mind-shattering! 26th May 1999, 12th March 1993, 11th July 2006, 25th August 2003, 13th December 2001, 14th February 1998, 24th September 2002, 24th December 1999, 29th October 2005.......the list just goes on.....and we forget our true rainbows and chase false, fleeting ones!

Look 'yonder' for the little th(o)ngs

2007-06-03T13:16:00.000-04:00

James (his middle name) is one of my oldest pals from my school days, and I came across his blog this afternoon. We've known each other since 2nd standard and still continue to keep in touch off and on. Rivals on the basketball court, inter-house debates, soccer field, and GK among other things, we were quite good friends outside school. We debated together (and got routed bad by some budding cross-(l)egging by the BIS team) and generally hung out a bit.
We were also in fierce competition for the inter-house essay competition. If I could put a finger on one incident from our school days, it was an incident way back in 1988 when our man Jamie used the word 'yonder' instead of 'there', much to the shock, amusement and utter disbelief of the rest of the class. We had a budding Joyce on our hands, didn't we!
His blog makes very good reading and it's nice to see that James hasn't lost the power of creative writing to his normal day-job of being a code-writer. He has a rather amusing post on the wonders of faith, which had me chuckling too! Typical Jamie humor!

The PhD

2007-06-02T20:38:00.000-04:00

Sunil has a brilliant post (on second thoughts, does he ever write ordinary pieces, I wonder!) on how/why the PhD takes so long.
One of my colleagues from the department (although from a different research group) will be defending his PhD in a week's time. The best part is that he's doing it just three years after he started on it, which is incredible! That should give us mortals some inspiration to work harder towards making an attempt to see the light at the end of the tunnel.
Like a lot of people say, one needs to be highly self-motivated to accomplish research goals. Like Murphy's Law wills, a zillion things go wrong; but it's important to keep things in perspective. We often discover (like I have) that stuff we were breaking our heads over for six months to a year have already been accomplished without much of a sweat by other research groups. So what do we do then? COLLABORATE!
Research in a chemical/biological field requires an immense amount of patience and fortitude, as many folks will attest. Cells mysteriously die........no cells adhere to your substrate (when you expect it to be crawling with them!).....you forget to close valves/turn on pumps...the list goes on. Jorge Cham of PhD comics fame has it down really well, his comic strip keeping us poor lab-rats in splits many times a week!
It never ceases to amaze me how people ask "How many years more?", when they hear I'm a PhD student. Now that is a question many of us prefer to avoid like the plague. And guess what, they're never satisfied with your answer of "x years", hitting back with "why not (x-1) years?"!
But all said and done, it's quite a lot of fun, this voyage of discovery called the PhD!

150 years on...Lest we forget!

2007-05-10T23:59:00.000-04:00

Rediff has a beautiful series of articles on the events of 1857 here.

Raagas and Hindi Songs

2007-05-02T20:17:00.000-04:00

I was organizing the Hindi songs on my laptop and while googling for the various movies they came from, I came across a nice website which has indexed various Hindi film songs by the Raaga they have been composed in.

It's quite interesting to note that some of my favorite songs (naturally) have been composed in my favorite raagas!

Discovering Malayalam literature

2007-04-27T01:46:00.000-04:00

I was aimlessly browsing the Indian Literature section in a bookstore last January, when I came across a booked called "The Unspoken Curse" by V.K.Madhavan Kutty. I had seen his earlier book "A Village Before Time" in Landmark a couple of times, but never got down to buying it. Being away from home often brings one closer to one's roots, and two-and-a-half years of life in the US had made me more conscious of the Malayali in me; the book was bought.

It was a decision influenced by my parents, who had spent many a pleasant evening (earlier that year) chatting with the author himself. An uncle of mine was getting some ayurvedic treatment done at a local Arya Vaidya Sala, and when they visited him, they were pleasantly surprised to find that Madhavan Kutty was staying in the next room. They said he was a very unassuming man - simple and straighforward. [He would pass away a few months later, in November 2005].

Over the next month or so, I read the book gradually. The storyline was rather poignant. In it, I could see so many memories (sights, sounds and smells) of life in Kerala. The politics of the tharavaad, the laments of the unmarried ones and the dynamics of the joint-family system are things that I am fairly familiar with. And so, I decided I'd read some more works from the pen of the great man.

And so this time when I was back home, I finally picked up "A Village Before Time". It's a brilliant book and I can draw parallels with my family for almost every character he refers to in the book! I wonder if there are other books out there, which have been translated into English.

So long Mr. Lara....and thanks for all the phish!

2007-04-25T20:05:00.000-04:00

As always, Zatta (aka Rahul Bhattacharya) has a written a delightful piece - this one bidding goodbye to Brian Charles Lara.

As a cricketer, he'll be among the greatest I have seen (playing) in the flesh. I cannot think of anyone else who has pulled his team out of perilous waters so many times - a thing our very own Tendulkar failed at miserably. The fact that he played in an era of Windies cricket which would well be dismissed as a nightmare, is a different question. If someone were to say 'flamboyance' and 'batsman' in the same breath, Lara would be the only one who would come to mind. That back lift and the nonchalance with which he dealt with many an attack is something that will be missed. Hayden and Gilchrist are undoubtedly two of the best southpaws in the game today, but theirs is more bludgeoning rather than finesse.

I think I first read about his exploits way back in 1988-89, when the Indians were touring the Windies. Leading the U-23 XI (featuring among others, Jimmy Adams and Junior Murray), he smashed the Indian attack (a rather makeshift one at that, featuring Sanjeev Sharma, Robin Singh, Arshad Ayub, Hirwani and Srikkanth) for 182.

Then came the 277 at Sydney, which confirmed he was destined for greater things. He came to India for the Hero Cup in 1993 with a buzz about his skills. The only match I got to watch in that series was the clash at the Brabourne Stadium between the Windies and South Africa - having missed the game at the Wankhede which featured the Lankans and Windies. As a game, it was the unforgettable game in which Jonty Rhodes took those five stunning catches, one of them getting rid of Lara. It was a disappointment for us back then, watching Lara mishook a delivery from Snell only to have Rhodes sprawled across the pitch taking the first of his catches for the day.

He returned to Indian shores in the winter of 1994, crowned the prince of cricket (by the great man Sobers himself, at the Recreation Ground in Antigua one hot afternoon in April). The Test match at the Wankhede was a disappointment in terms of Lara's scores - a scratchy 14/74 and a fourth-ball duck in the second innings. Strangely, that was his last Test series on Indian soil.

I for one will remember him for his exploits in the Test arena, rather than ODIs. That does not take away anything from the fact that he played some blazing innings which changed the courses of many a match - the 1996 World Cup QF against South Africa and the 150 odd he scored against Pakistan in one of the Sharjah finals being two innings that stand out.

The likes of Lara may not be seen again. He was an entertainer in every sense and he will be sorely missed.

The unknown golfer

2006-08-29T16:59:00.000-04:00

I was quite amused to read this feature as one of the top stories on Yahoo! News this evening.
It is strange how I'm checking the PGA leaderboards on a weekly basis (almost) checking to see how Arjun Atwal and Daniel Chopra are doing.
These blokes toil away on the greens, doing unexpectedly well at times, without much by way of coverage back home (agreed, some folks might say Chopra's a Swede!).

The language barrier...

2006-08-24T11:39:00.000-04:00

I feel sorry for Bob Woolmer, caught between the devil and the deep blue sea! Managing Pakistan is no mean task, and now that the garbage has hit the ceiling he finds himself in a spot of bother. Strangely I would not be surprised if he quits sooner than expected. It was amusing to read this:

"Inzi and I are absolutely fine. We have had misunderstandings in the past and we had a sort of misunderstanding on Sunday. Until I have a complete grasp of the Urdu language these things may occur but as things stand now, we are fine. We are getting on well and want to do whatever we can for Pakistan cricket."

It reeks of a kiss-and-make-up underlined by a dollop of disgust. It also underlines the language barriers (among other hurdles) guys like John Wright and Woolmer have to deal with day in and day out. I suspect the Indians (despite the bile they sometimes spat back at Wright) had a healthy respect for Wright, which was undoubtedly well-earned. On the other hand, I cannot but believe that the Pakistani cricket team has absolutely no respect for its coaches - be it Intikhab Alam, Richard Pybus or Woolmer.

Inzi being Inzi would not have had something overly parliamentary to say to/about Woolmer during the fiasco that played out on Sunday - I doubt he would have started out in his usual style of praising the lord and invoking his goodwill! In the whole controversy what seems clear is the fact that Woolmer probably wanted to go ahead with the game, while Inzi and gang wanted (rather belatedly) to massage their bruised egos in the dressing room. And good old Shahryar Khan had to spin an unbelievable yarn (attributing the condition of the ball to Kevin Pietersen smashing it so many times into the stands, which all happened after the Paki team was pulled up by Mr. Hair).

And then there are jackasses (including Mr. Shahryar Khan) looking for religious overtones in this whole fiasco!

Cricket and religion don't mix....

2006-08-24T11:33:00.000-04:00

According to the venerable Shahryar Khan:

"Cricket is a bridge of peace," he added. "In these days of tension outside the cricket ground, what a wonderful sight it is to see cricket between a Muslim country and Muslim people, and England, the majority Christians."

Since when have we started adding religious overtones to a simple game of cricket?

And so it goes....Quadie Jr. RIP

2006-06-03T16:06:00.000-04:00

We argued a lot, over many a lunch.....
I a loyal Loyola-ite, he zesty Xavier-ite...
And then in a flash, it all amounts to just memories...
Anand Paul Quadros....RIP...

Keith Richards does it!

2006-05-01T20:23:00.001-04:00

Was extremely amused to read an article this evening with the blurb: "Keith Richards falls out of tree" !

Wonder what on earth he was trying to do up a palm tree for Keith's sakes!

I lost it when I read:

"She [My note: The Stones spokesperson] refused to elaborate further on his condition or explain what Richards was doing up a tree in the first place."

I have a wild guess - maybe it finally proved the missing link in the puzzle as to whether KR was human or simian!

Note: To those who dont know who Keith Richards is...he's a guitarist with the Rolling Stones..much maligned for his drug abuse....and this is a snap of him.

Do you want to get "laid"?!

2006-04-28T06:17:00.000-04:00

A seriously funny post from a friend....(relatively) new to blogosphere...I present Ms. Arati, and her travails as an (engineering) student in Bombay!

Brought back very fond memories!

Matthew Engel's tribute to Laurie Engel

2006-04-21T18:50:00.000-04:00

I have been a (relatively) regular reader of Matthew Engel's articles on cricket over the last couple of years. I was quite surprised to see a link on Cricinfo that linked to an article which read "Young Engel lives on in the memory".

That article linked on to Mr. Engel's tribute to his son Laurie - an extremely heart-rending one at that. I wonder how one writes about one's private grief in a public forum (read: The Guardian) - but then I guess we all find closure one way or the other! He wrote:

"..........I want a word. But if there is meaning or purpose or logic in this, we can't see it. In the early stages of the illness, I thought - superstitiously, maybe - that I was being punished. I thought of all the shitty things I'd done, the beggars and Big Issue sellers I had walked by. But Laurie never walked by a beggar: he was the softest touch in the world. He was punished with all the pain.........."

It is human nature for us to ask the question "Why......?". Our memories flash back to all the unpleasant stuff we have done (inadvertently or otherwise) and we feel queasy.

We live a few thousand miles away from our near and dear ones - atleast I do. A number from back home flashing on your cellphone display sets your heart racing - especially when it is unexpected. I cannot fathom what M went through last week, but it was one big blur for us. We did whatever we could, but still came in for a bit of criticism from some quarters (rather one!). Agreed, they might have been through a similar situation, but I dont think it gives them a license to pass judgement on the way someone else handles the situation. But then, that is the way the dice rolls I guess.

It got us thinking....
The memories from our childhood.....
The first day of school....
The fevers and hospital visits we have gotten through....
The cricket bat which we got as a gift when we were in 4th standard....
School prize days.....
Sunday evenings.....
Cricket 'matches' in the living room....
Late night snacks.....
Fights over the television remote....
Discussions about the 'facts of life'....
Arguments over our sartorial tastes....
Creative differences with regard to musical tastes...

There are so many memories we have....each and every one a photograph/video clip of a moment that slipped away in time.....

In our pursuits of goals we often 'lose track' of the small things which make us what we are. We feel invincible....the fire beneath our skin and in our heart....But every time we feel down, there will always be some folks who will always provide good counsel and a shoulder....

Hiccups from Hick

2006-03-26T20:07:00.000-05:00

Some of you might remember my reference to one Graeme Hick and his stellar performance at the Wankhede in 1993, a few days ago.

Rightly described by some as a flawed genius, I remember reading about his exploits way back in the late 80s. I think at that time his decision to play for England instead of Zimbabwe was a hotly debated - a very sensible decision in my opinion.

One of the few modern day cricketers to have scored a hundred first-class centuries, Hick never really got going in either form of cricket. There was a time he did well against the Aussies, Windies and Proteas, but apparently Mr. Ray Illingworth thought otherwise and pretty much put paid to his cricketing career.

I guess his problems were also compounded by the emergence of Vaughan, Butcher (and Freddie Flintoff) coupled with the resurgence of Thorpe and Hussain.

If only he got more chances...

A chain of unfortunate events...

2006-03-25T00:38:00.000-05:00

First this....
And then this....

It has been a weird week. Least expected to return to Clemson and find a new apartment! What was worse was cleaning out the old place - filled with smokey stuff and damp cotton from the roof!

Good to see that some folks have taken it in their stride....

The question of a blue plaque

2006-03-15T21:36:00.000-05:00

It was interesting to read Mike Selvey's article in today's Guardian. Although he mainly dealt with the burgeoning run rates in ODIs today, there was something at the end which caught my eye.

Writing about the attempts by a gentleman named Christopher Douglas to put up a plaque at 21 Bentinck Street in Marylebone commemorating a certain Douglas Jardine.

"The Panel felt that Jardine was not equal standing to those already commemorated under the scheme (WG Grace, Jack Hobbs, CB Fry) and that there are figures not yet suggested by the public such as Len Hutton, Peter May and Dennis Compton who might be considered more worthy of plaques. Just for your interest, Learie Constantine and K S Ranjitsimhji [sic] have recently been shortlisted."

It is indeed amusing to learn that the panel is actually considering Learie Constantine, who (with all due respect to him) did not do much for English cricket - nothing at all if I can remember right! Agreed, he broke a lot of barriers in cricket - much like Jackie Robinson did in baseball in America.

Douglas Jardine evoked a sense of respectful fear in me back in the late 80s when the Bodyline TV-series was shown on Doordarshan. Back then I liked the Aussies (they had just won the World Cup in 1987), and the sheer 'brutality' of the Bodyline series made me gnash my teeth whenever I heard the words Jardine or Larwood.

But over the years I have read so much more into the whole series and the characters behind it. It reads a bit like a soap opera, but yet, I guess the Englishmen never forgave Jardine (nor Larwood) for whatever happened. It is indeed ironic that Larwood settled in Australia, where he was warmly received. Agreed, he probably was a pawn in the whole scheme planned out by a 'thinking' captain and he unfortunately paid a heavy price for 'obeying orders'. But I would say he did it with honour.

Today, we deal with bowlers who bowl intentional beamers (rather hurl) and the intolerance of spectators who resort to a variety of tactics to thrown the opposition off balance. I'd say the Indian crowds whch throw bottles and a variety of other garbage (verbal too) at opposing teams are on par with the Aussie larrikins who heap the opposition with racist abuse. It is sad to see the game degenerate to this level.

But someday I'd like to see Jardine get the respect that is due to him. As a shrewd tactician, as an English captain (a list that also includes a gent called Monkey Hornby and the 3rd Baron Tennyson, among more illustrious names), and (in this day and age) as a man who brought the all-conquering Aussies to their feet. Let's face it, Bodyline was a bit of an annihilation compared to the nail biting stuff that was dished out last summer!

Panther Patterson

2006-03-15T00:50:00.000-05:00

Was quite amused to see who topped the list of the most successful bowlers in ODIs in India - Mr. Balfour Patrick Patterson!
He featured in the Windies tour of India in 1987-88 and literally terrorized the Indian batsmen - not to forget a couple of second standard kids.
I shall leave it to Mike Selvey (he of the latest Chappell interview) to describe the man (courtesy Cricinfo):

"...Patterson hurtled his inelegant bow-legged way up the hill, thrust his leading leg high, studs at the batsman, stamped down hard enough to measure on the Richter Scale, and, bowling like the devil..."

What Mr. Selvey forgot was the way Patterson started his run up, crouching low, like a panther....ready for the kill...

I dont think we the kids of the mid-80s who saw the Windies at their prime will forget what a force they were! Just imagine what it must have looked like, for the batsman, watching the bowler's left leg go at 60 degrees and then find the ball hurtling towards you at close to 95mph. Must have surely accounted for a momentary distraction leading to timber being rattled! And those were the days of Walsh, Ambrose, Malcolm Marshall (RIP) and Ian Bishop!

I can only sigh thinking of those days, and what a huge collective sigh it must be...

Words of wisdom (?) from "Shantaram"..

2006-03-05T11:21:00.000-05:00

Shantaram is an amazing book. To say anything more about it and wax eloquent would be 'unfair'.

The book got me into its grip slowly, but steadily. Only in the last few pages does the whole picture hit you - right in the face, bang in the gut. Some of the words he uses are simply mind-numbing.

"And I loved her. I loved her still so much, so hard, but with no heat or heart at all........And suddenly I knew in those seconds of ... cold adoration, I suppose ... that the power she'd once held over me was also gone. Or, more than that, her power had moved into me, and had become mine."

"I felt empty: the kind of emptiness that's sad but not distressed, pitying but not broken-hearted, and damaged, somehow, but clearer and cleaner for it. And then I knew what it was, that emptiness: there's a name for it, a word we use often, without realising the universe of peace that's enfolded in it. The word is free."

And finally...

"For this is what we do. Put one foot forward and then the other. Lift our eyes to the snarl and smile of the world once more. Think. Act. Feel. Add our little consequence to the tides of good and evil that flood and drain the world. Drag our shadowed crosses into the hope of another night. Push our brave hearts into the promises of a new day. With love: the passionate search for a truth other than our own. With longing: the pure, ineffable yearning to be saved. For so long as fate keeps waiting, we live on. God help us. God forgive us. We live on."

THIS is some of the best writing I have read in a long time. Easily one of the best end-games, the only other one which flashes readily in my mind was the end of John Grisham's "The Partner". There are some endings which give you the 'feel-good' air, and then there are endings like the one in Shantaram. There is not much by way of drama. But the sheer play of words takes your breath away. You feel well....'suffocated' (maybe because all the oxygen is going to the brain while you digest the force of the words).

Yes, 'cold adoration' couldn't have been put better. Very apt!

10 years gone by...

2006-03-03T22:28:00.000-05:00

It's been ten years since the batch of 1996 left the hallowed portals of Campion. So much has changed, but yet some things have remained the same. The 37 of us might be spread all over the world, but then we try and stay close and keep in touch with each other.
Some are married...Dont think any have become dads yet....
Some work in exotic locales....one bloke on the island of Aruba...
Some are still academia's guinea-pigs....
We all have had pain, suffering, love, loss and longing...some more than others...
We all reminesce a lot...
We still buzz each other off and on quiet Saturday afternoons to hear the latest on the Cuffe Parade gossip or Malabar Hill masala....
Some meet every weekend at Geoffreys and down martinis with Marine Drive buzzing with activity...Others stand on a balcony 60 odd floors above sea level, overlooking the Hudson, contemplating on life and what googlies we have negotiated....
Some walk shoulder to shoulder with the hotshots...while others have to be rather content trying not to rub the local redneck the wrong way....
All said and done the Campion-Cathedral 'rivalry' is still very much a load of bulls**t....
Everyone remembers their secret (and not-so-secret) crushes...and share a good laugh when her name pops out of nowhere...
Some crushes have become commitments...others have been consigned to the trash-can of life...
We still shake our heads in disbelief when we think of Ms. Goswami...HOW?!!!!!!!!
Mindu is gone.....somewhere in Elysian Fields he's giving plus 3 to all souls...sometimes plus six...
Mr. Nash Karanjia....a perfect gentleman....a diamond in the crown of Campion...
Goosie....he's gone now...probably hunting bears in the forests of Heaven....
Nannu.....a strict disciplinarian, but a man with a heart of gold.....
ILP....the man for all seasons at Campion....a friend, philosopher and guide to me and so many other Campionites....
JS Lewis....a man with a vision...who made a huge difference through the 90s...
Callu......the gentleman who kindled my interest in chemistry....a man who could never bring himself to raise his voice against a student, but would instead quietly go to the blackboard and give the bloke's house minus points....
Gomes, the master who threatened to chew the marrow of everyone's bones, but deep down a simple straightforward man....
I get goose-pimples when I see:
this
this
this
this
and....this used to be my playground....
this...(though I cant figure out for the life of me why/how the PTA found its way into that snap!)
this was totally kick-ass (oops..excuse my language)...
This gentleman made quite a few Campionites tremble in their shoes...
Babe Bakshi and gang...

And yes...admit it...Bakshi looked haaaaaaaat ;-)!

Those were the days my friends!

A jaffa from Jaffer

2006-03-02T23:37:00.000-05:00

Although the cricketing term 'jaffa' is supposed to refer to an unplayable delivery, I couldn't but help using it to describe the innings Wasim Jaffer played yesterday. Here was a guy returning to the team after almost 4 years in the wilderness - times which were probably much darker than one could imagine. The crown of being an Indian opener has lain uneasy on the heads of those who have been fortunate/unfortunate to wear it. Where are Aakash Chopra and Sanjay Bangar today? But from whatever little I have read about his innings, he seems to be in sublime touch.

I have seen Jaffer just once, and that was during the Ranji pre-quarterfinal against TN at the Guru Nanak ground in Chennai. Saarang 2002 was on, and to liven up the relatively boring afternoon I decided to cycle down to Guru Nanak from IIT. For better or for worse, I happened to be the only bloke there cheering for a rather hapless Mumbai team (not that the TN team was much better)!

The Guru Nanak ground is bang in the middle of the college of the same name. The pavilion was just about shady enough to keep the players cool (I dont know if the place has changed a lot in the past four years), and people could choose their vantage points from where they could watch the game. A makeshift shamiana sheltered a few TNCA officials who had taken the trouble to attend the game. From another tent adjoining the pavilion, the characteristic fragrance of mutton biriyani wafted over the ground - lulling a few Mumbai batsmen into a soporific end to their innings and a slow waltz back to the pavilion.

Both teams had their share of former Indian players. Bombay had Sameer Dighe, Nilesh Kulkarni, Sairaj Bahutule, Vinod Kambli and Paras Mhambrey; while the TN team had the famous warhorse Robin Singh, Thiru Kumaran, Sadagopan Ramesh, Aashish Kapoor and S. Sriram.

Post-lunch, while a bloke called Balaji gave the Bombay batsmen a ton of trouble under the searing Chennai sun, a single figure emerged from the pavilion and went towards the nets. Padded up, he began knocking the ball around. He started out slow, but then began to play his shots. It was sheer ecstasy to watch him, and I pretty much lost interest in the happenings out in the middle. For a full two hours, he did nothing but play some of the most brilliant shots in the book. He reminded me of one Mohd. Azharuddin and another wristy bloke by the name of VVS Laxman. But this guy was Wasim Jaffer. Agreed, he did not do too well in that game, but it seems like he obviously was committed enough to his game to go out there in the hot sun and practise his game. I do hope that during the dark years away from the test arena, Jaffer did not lose his appetite for the game.

Balaji on the other hand went on to play a few games for India, where he did fairly well but today is one of the proverbial sacrificial lambs at the altar of the selection committee. The emergence of Sreesanth and RP Singh (not to forget VRV Singh) has also played a major role in Balaji's comeback grinding to a halt. Will he make a comeback? I personally have my misgivings about it, especially with the sudden surge in the 'pace attack' the team fields nowadays.

[While writing this, the Indians decided it was time to make things a little more exciting. The score reads 149-4, Jaffer out without scoring the much awaited century Laxman expected him to score!]

Women in science...

2006-03-01T19:37:00.000-05:00

Disclaimer: This might be controversial, and might get me into a soup...

A minor discussion with N this evening got me thinking of the role of women in science. Off the top of their head, most people think of Marie Curie and her daughter. I guess most Indians would go for Kiran Mazumdar-Shaw, some probably for Kalpana Chawla.

But much before Ms. Shaw or Ms. Chawla graced the face of this earth, there was a lady called Kamala Sohonie. I remember reading this article about how she 'overcame the Raman effect'.

"When Sohonie applied for postgraduate degree, after completing her graduation from Bombay University in 1933, Raman summarily dismissed her application despite her having topped the university merit list that year. And the reason: Sohonie happened to be a woman!"

Thankfully the great man changed his mind about women in science after she graduated from Cambridge! She became the first Indian woman to receive a doctoral degree in the sciences, a stellar achievement undoubtedly considering the roadblocks she must have faced in those days (the 1930s).

How much the world has changed since then. But I wonder how many folks have heard of Dr. Sohonie. All rise and pay tribute to the grand old lady of Indian science - if I might call her so.

Pops, crackles...and Prabhu Deva....

2006-03-01T18:42:00.000-05:00

Was reading Zatta's (also known as Rahul Bhattacharya, a contributing editor of Cricinfo Magazine and author of Pundits from Pakistan: On Tour with India, 2003-04) report on the first day's play at Nagpur and burst out laughing reading this:

"Breakdance! If you look hard enough, you can see it in his action: all jerks and pops and crackles. And he's now introduced brown tints to his hair, so that if he adds a beard he could indeed pass off as Prabhudeva."

Yes, it's all there in Sreeshanth's action! But the resemblance to PrabhuDeva is far from the truth. PrabhuDeva looks like he POSITIVELY swung off a tree, while Sreeshanth looks less simian. [I say less simian thanks to a cousin who tells me Sreeshanth reminds her of a kutty
(small) chimp!]. But then, we know where we came from....

Adios Hirwani

2006-02-26T21:14:00.000-05:00

I was reading a copy of Sportstar the other day, and read that Narendra Hirwani had retired from first-class cricket. It brought back memories of the late 80s when he castled the Windies on debut at Madras - which is what most people remember when the name Hirwani is mentioned.
It was probably the first time I was hearing about a single bowler claiming such a huge haul, and that too on debut. Little had I heard of Jim Laker, and it would be another 5-6 years before Murali/Warne came into the international limelight. The other name in the papers was Bob Massie (another one-Test wonder) whose record of 16 wickets on debut was emulated by Hirwani.
What has slipped past in tributes to Hirwani was his role in ODIs, and his stellar role in India winning the Sharjah Cup in 1987-88 - one of India's few successes in the desert storms it has had to weather at Sharjah. Agreed, the other teams were NZ and SL, but he had them flummoxed with 4-wicket hauls against both.
Sadly, he just faded away into relative oblivion after that. He picked up wickets by the bucketful every season in the Ranji Trophy and made a couple of comebacks into the test side, but did nothing of note.
But yes, ask any cricket-crazy bloke in his mid-20s or 30s and they will tell you how this bespectacled bloke who bamboozled the mighty Windies at the Chepauk all those years ago. Jasu Patel who wreaked havoc on the Aussies at Kanpur in the 1959-60 series with a 14-wicket haul (9-69 in the first innings, something probably unheard of during those days in Indian cricket) passed on quietly, largely forgotten. Hirwani's place in Indian cricketing lore is safe - I hope.

The hunt for a good sports-magazine!

2006-01-28T19:22:00.000-05:00

When my father and uncle were in school, the pre-eminent sports magazine of those days was called "Sport and Pastime". I remember an old issue lying around in Achamma's house which had Conrad Hunte on it's cover, and it took me to an era I had not even imagined back then - the late 50s and 60s when the Windies dominated under the great Sir Frank Worrell, and Gary Sobers was taking his first steps enroute to future greatness.

My love affair with Sportstar began sometime in the mid 80s (yes, that early) around the time the Indians won the B&H World Championship of Cricket in Australia. This lasted more than a decade and a half into the next millenium. Some time in the late 80s they added a poster instead of their normal centrefold, and their popularity rose unbelievably. Many a poster graced the walls of our flat in Bombay, not to forget the "cousins room" in Coimbatore (Today I can only think of that room as Achan's pooja room). Everyone had to get their copy of Sportstar, and even in class we'd wonder who would feature next on the poster. I cannot forget how the Sportstar would be hidden away from my prying eyes during exam-time, only for me to hunt (or rather smell) it out from a variety of places ranging from the kitchen to the store-room!

Many an eminent writer contributed his columns, including Gavaskar and Harsha Bhogle - Bobby Simpson still is a regular. The lenswork of Indian sport (mainly the cricket/cricketers by VV Krishnan) was amazing, while the photos from abroad were generally by AllSport. I think Stan Smith's Tennis lessons and Jack Nicklaus' golf tips (comic-style) are still going strong! Those were the days before the internet came along and we depended on our loyal Sportstar for sports news from foreign lands.

The special countdowns to the Olympics, World Cup soccer and the cricket World Cup were read from cover to cover and then bound for future reminescences. They brought alive the magic of Pele, the Windies cricketers in the 70s and 80s, Jesse Owens, the rivalry between the Kaiser and the Flying Dutchman, and so many flashbacks from the past!

However, with the advent of the internet, as they say, we have the world at our fingers and I guess I've become more net-dependent for all news and articles. Sportstar (like jap-cakes and jilebis) is now a memory of days-gone-by, savoured with zest when the opportunity comes along (like in India this winter!).

Cricinfo's new magazine (I just read their inaugural issue) comes as a breath of fresh air. I have realized I am addicted to good cricket journalism. Achan and Amma were quite amused by my innumerable trips to the local magazine vendor to check whether he had received the magazines! Couldnt believe that Zatta wrote the cover story on Dravid - but then he's hot on the cricket-writing scene with his chronicle of the Indian tour of Pakistan in 2004.

Cant get enough of this stuff! That's all I can say! I'm even tempted to request A-A to subscribe and keep the issues for me when I go home next!

MCC/Chepauk memories...

2006-01-21T17:29:00.000-05:00

Been a regular at the Madras Cricket Club (MCC) over the years - thanks to R & S. When I was younger, a summer vacation trip to Madras would be incomplete without a lunch/dinner at the MCC; much like the trip to see KMama and KMayi (which I'll save for another blog-post). Went there for a lazy lunch last week, and it brought back fond memories.

My first impressions of the Chepauk were formed during the 1987 World Cup match, which India narrowly lost to Australia. One of the lasting memories of that game had the Aussies walking off after winning the match, their whites/off-whites caked with the brownish black mud. Made me wonder if they played on grass or in what I then used to call (in typical Mumbaiya Hindi) keechad!

The club used to be filled with snaps of various cricketers who had graced many a party hosted there. I do remember seeing photographs of the various Windies touring teams, but sadly they seem to have disappeared (along with the Calypso kings). The odd photo of a Viv Richards and Sobers partying away in the club are still to be seen though.

One of the most unforgettable matches I witnessed was the 2001 test against Australia, where the Indians just about scraped home to win the series. Tendulkar has always had a decent run at the Chepauk, and the collective gasp around the ground when he mistimed the ball in the air in the direction of Michael Slater, followed by the sigh of relief when Slater put the chance down still rings clear in my head. The end of the test was however watched safely ensconed in the safety of my drawing room!

The other match I watched at the Chepauk was largely forgettable - the ODI between India and England in 2002. It was nice to sit in the Clubhouse, right next to the players and watch the game. Ganguly sat out the match (nothing new about that, isnt it!), and I dont think I'll see him in action ever! And oh yes, Gower gave me the royal miss again! Did manage to snag an autograph from one Ian Terence Botham though.

It's been interesting to see folks like Venkat, Robin Singh, WV Raman, Badani and few others relaxing in the club in the evenings. But what's been a much more joyous experience is imagining the innings/games that have been played here.

Sachin vs. Warne, thats how the series was built up in the spring of 1998 when the Aussies toured India. Despite college being a stone's throw from the Brabourne Stadium, I had to give the match between the Aussies and Bombay a miss - and thats where ST scored his first double century in first-class cricket. It was a precursor to what lay in store at the Chepauk, where he bludgeoned the Aussies into submission. Warney bowling outside the leg-stump only to be swatted away for a boundary by ST - that's one of the memories I have of that innings!

An innings I havent seen (not even on TV), but something everyone raves about was the 97* GRViswanath made against the Windies in 1974-75. For its sheer brilliance (and people still rave about it) it was also ranked #3 among the top 10 innings played by an Indian batsmen ever.

The tied test will forever be remembered in 2 snapshots - one of Greg Matthews absolutely cock-a-hoop after trapping Maninder Singh lbw, and the other of a very dehydrated Dean Jones enroute to his double century! But just imagine the guts Deano displayed, and who can forget the valiant attempt the Indians made chasing down 348 in a day's play!

And last but not the least, a silent tribute to the television tower keeping a watchful eye over the Chepauk!

Supermen of Soccer...

2005-11-26T20:53:00.000-05:00

Sometime after the 1990 World Cup, DD started a series called "Supermen of Soccer"hosted by Naresh Kumar (former Davis Cupper, and non-playing Captain of the team during the early 90s). It was fun for a soccer crazy 10 year old to watch footage of greats like Pele, Eusebio, and Maradona, among others. And mind you, this was before the cable tv revolution.

I'd religiously stay up till 11pm just to watch that show - those were the days when I needed "special permission" to stay up. Achan also used to record the show and I think we still have the tapes back home. The tricks of the trade demonstrated very ably by the stars would be put into use that week during the PT period, with "Maradona" pitting his wits against "Yashin" - a showdown which might have had soccer aficionados licking their lips with anticipation (ah the cliches!). It's amazing how as kids we imagined ourselves to be cricket/soccer stars transcending time and entering the arena!

One of the shows put George Best under the scanner, and it was interesting to hear that he was considered the star of his days - a time which also had Pele (approaching the sunset of his career), Cryuff and Beckenbauer. The impish/boyish charm sure had its effect on the British gals - little wonder that he was sometimes called the "Fifth Beatle". It was nice to see his life being celebrated as he passed, but then everyone's thoughts invariably went back to think of what he could have been if he had just not squandered his talents away. For every Bobby Charlton (arguably England's best IMHO), there's a George Best.

For every Pele, there's a Garrincha. Garrincha was one of the most amazing dribblers in the game, and I'd probably say that Pele might not have been as great a player had Garrincha (among others) been on the feeding line. But then, he too went 'wrong' somewhere, lost among the booze and the babes, dying a pauper on the streets of Rio. Came across a nice tribute to him on Rediff (written last year).

Maradona's done enough to see the 'other side', but thankfully he's on the mend and doing quite well. Atleast he had the decency to finally admit that the goal he initially attributed to God's hand was actually that of a mere mortal's! The England-Argentina match of 1986 is remembered more for the goal that wasnt, than for the goal that was sheer brilliance (I'm at a loss of words to describe what exactly it was!).

Ah nostalgia....all thanks to Georgie boy.....so long, and thanks for all the memories...RIP!

Swingin' retrospection - 1

2005-11-05T21:10:00.000-05:00

The lunch break was on, and as usual we were sitting outside the classroom and jabbering over lunch. Suddenly out of the blue, there was this sound of an earth-shattering cracker. It was March, and Diwali was over a long time ago. We dismissed it as some rich guy (South Bombay oozes them) celebrating in inimitable style, and went about our usual basketball game post-lunch.

Lunch over, we returned for our usual Friday afternoon English class with Ms. Shukla. As always, we were restless (or should I say over-exuberant), especially with the weekend coming up. For all our boisterousness, Ms. Shukla ended up making the entire class kneel and put our hands up in the air - a painful business.

And then the earth shook, the windows shattered, we hit the floor and took 'shelter' under our desks. We were dazed for a few minutes....Ms. Shukla was in tears, pandemonium prevailed! Uncle Louie dismissed it as a gas cylinder burst nearby, but the entire city was on edge - you could feel it cut as we walked back home.

I think of three of Ac's colleagues who were at the Bank of Oman at 2pm that Friday afternoon, off and on. S-Uncle was a very close friend of Ac's - full of fun, always cracking jokes. He was the first Uncle I 'made friends with' during the initial days in Prabhadevi/Ocean Gold. I think of the other folks who perished at Dalal Street, Worli, Sea Rock, Plaza.....

Some day (in my lifetime) I hope I see justice.....

PS: I finally managed to get my hands on Suketu Mehta's Maximum City: Bombay Lost and Found the other day, and have been in the process of slowly biting off chunks and chewing on them. It got me thinking of days gone by in Bombay, and inspired this post. All in all, it's one amazing book. I can actually hear Bal Thackeray talk through the words in the lines from Suketu Mehta's interview with him - speaks volumes about the author (and the subject too!).

The Strand is back!

2005-11-04T21:47:00.000-05:00

Was checking out Mid-Day (as usual) this evening, and was very surprised to see this article about Strand Cinema finally re-opening!

It was on a rainy Sunday evening that A-A and I went to see Mr. India there. I think I was in 1st standard then, and thats probably the second movie I watched in my life - and probably the only Hindi movie I've seen more than 10 times.

During the rains the Colaba Market area was one of the worst places to be - slushy, replete with rotten vegetables, the musty air shaken every few minutes by the shrieks of a hen being slaughtered in one of the many chicken shops that dotted the market. I dont know if that's changed - I wouldnt be surprised if time stood still in Colaba Market. I sometimes wonder if the Malayali veggie seller still plies his wares at the corner of the telephone exchange building! Those were the days...

Back to the Strand...It was already heading towards it's curtain call back then. Metro was thriving like nobody's business (ok yeah Akshat's business!) through the 80's and into the 90s. Sometime in 1992 (according to the Mid-Day article), Strand shut down. Everytime I drove/walked past it enroute to Abhishek/Gavin's place I'd think about the good times I'd enjoyed there.

And so today it looks like the Strand's reinvented itself. Metro's reinventing itself too, if the class grapevine is to be believed. Both theatres have very fond memories for me, and I hope both do well - especially Metro, because after all it's Akshat's!

Reverse swing - 2

2005-10-22T00:00:00.000-04:00

He was enamored at first sight, and once they started a 'live-in' relationship a year later, everything seemed smooth. They shared a rather tempestuous relationship over the years, until he finally walked out on her 15 years after they first met.
He fell in love with someone else, while she kept waiting for him, hoping that he just might change his mind and come back to her. But then he had moved on, and had made peace with himself. She was a thing of the past. All said and done, things would never be the same between them again.
Whenever he returned, he'd drop by to see her and make sure she was doing ok - just for old time's sakes. Her hopes rose everytime he returned - the prodigal he was - but she was too timid to bring up the past.
On a muggy night late one August, as BA0138 lifted off the runway, he looked back at the city he loved once upon a time, shed a tear for her and a silent prayer escaped his lips...

PS: Changed the caption to Reverse Swing, based on a suggestion from Vinayak! Acc. to him it was a more appropriate caption for these posts!

Reverse Swing - 1

2005-10-21T19:32:00.000-04:00

Was reading Ammani's blog and have been inspired to post some stuff (off and on, possibly more on than off) on the lines of her "A Quick Tale" series. Thanks for the inspiration!

They had walked the streets of South Bombay more often than they had cared to count, when they were in high school. Like he would say (later), every lamp-post had it's story to tell! They walked from Churchgate towards Marine Drive to watch the sun set - it was the last sunset they would watch together. A few months later they went their separate ways, a lot of things left unsaid!
A little more than four years down the line, at an office party she struck up an animated conversation with him. The people around them, blissfully ignorant of the fact that they had known each other since they were in kindergarten, were amused to actually see her go ga-ga over him. They were opposite poles, he the quiet unassuming types, while she was the loud, life of the office type...and anyway they hardly spoke to each other at work!
And so over dessert, overlooking the lush greenery that is Powai, they spoke about the paths they had taken. They had a rough idea about each others' doings and undoings via common friends, but the four year silence between them post-2/13 had not been broken.
She was not sure if he was seeing someone, but was unsure about how to broach the topic. Diplomacy was not her style, but today she figured she was treading on thin ice.
In the background, the DJ was playing "Kaliyon ka chaman" and the party was getting all groovy. Within a matter of moments, a girl appeared out of nowhere and whisked him back into the main party.
As her eyes fell on their intertwined hands, she knew she had her answer. Four years of hopes and six months of patience were reduced to dust! For all the times he had played "Against all odds" over the phone during the turbulent times, and she had scorned him....he finally had the last laugh!

Memories of Ganesh Chaturthi

2005-09-08T15:31:00.000-04:00

Sunil's post on Ganesh Chaturthi got me inspired into writing this post, which gets my blog into one more of those fits-and-starts routines. Trust me, there will be quite a few of these in the near future!
I attended an aarti at a friend's place last night, and it brought back fond memories of my Bombay days. I think I was singing the aarti in Marathi (Note: Clemson has a huge Marathi mitr-mandali types) after almost eight years! Every year different families had their own small aartis with the main idol being installed in one of the garages. Invariably either Kulkarni Uncle or Padhye Uncle were the ones who would lead the aarti every morning and evening. Believe me, everyone used to attend the night aarti, something which changed later as the dynamics (and possibly family values) changed in Dhanastra. As kids we just loved the prasad - my mouth still waters at the thought of the modaks we used to get. Towards the end of our stint in Dhanastra, I guess there were only the individual poojas, and whoever was keen attended. I for one can easily say I attended every one of the aartis at the Kulkarni's and Padhye's in the 15 years I was there. I've lost touch with both families and so have my parents. Padhye Uncle passed away a few years ago, and believe me to a lot of us (including our parents), it was a bit like the end of an era. I remember everyone talking about the good times we had around Ganesh Chaturthi.
Bombay at Ganesh Chaturthi time is something one must experience once in a lifetime - I enjoyed it 15 times! A few weeks before the festival begins, the newspapers start talking about the latest idols rolling off the 'assembly-lines' - Lalbaug in central Bombay is a huge idol making centre. Some idols are mind-blowing for their sheer beauty or size, while others simply seemed to make fun of trivial issues like current affairs or the latest from Bollywood.
One of the pandals we always visited was the one hosted by the GD Somani school, pretty close to where we used to stay. I think pretty much every family in Colaba/Cuffe Parade visited the pandal just to admire the idol. It was probably one of the tallest ones in South Bombay atleast. This was one of the few times GD Somani was treated with some sanctity/respect - other wise we were always shouting "GD Somani....gutter ka paani" when we passed that way (yeah I know it sounds kiddish, but when you're 8 or 9 you dont give too much of a damn!).
The immersions were grand affairs, an unforgettable mix of drum beats and delirious dancing. As a kid it intrigued me how my heart(beat) seemed to go into overdrive to the sound of the drums. People throwing gulal in the air, trucks streaming past with the huge idols, some on carts, some on cycles - all in all a fairly motley mix.
All this to the echoes of "Ganpati bappa moraya...pudchya varshi laukar yea"!

Born crooks...and ingrates

2005-09-01T09:08:00.000-04:00

As most Mumbaikars might have read, the Phase Pardhi tribe has been (supposedly) quite active on the crime scene in the suburbs lately!

The name of the tribe itself is pretty intriguing, especially the "Phase" bit! I wonder whether Phase was like a stage, or state of matter! Or was it a Marathi word/name!

But what had me chucking was an article in MidDay which said that "Phase Pardhis are one of India’s so-called denotified tribes. In their 1871 Criminal Tribes Act, the British had listed (thus ‘notified’) the Pardhis and 150 other tribes as criminal. That meant that if you were born into a Pardhi family, you were automatically a crook."

Thank God the Nayars/Nairs are a peace-loving gang (relatively atleast!).

------------------------------------------------------
Another article on MidDay says the residents of a "dangerously dilapidated" building in Mohammed Ali Road will not move to BMC-provided (Bombay Municipal Corporation) accomodation in Kandivli. It seems they want to move ONLY to Peddar Road.

What's next????? We might have residents in Dharavi wanting to move into Lokhandwala, Machchi-Maar Nagar into Cuffe Parade, people from the kuppams in Chennai wanting to move into Boat Club Road!

The world's ingrates!!!!!

Maharashtra cricket

2005-08-31T08:32:00.000-04:00

Since time immemorial, the Maharashtra cricket team has been the poorer cousin of the Bombay cricketers. They had some really good players like Surendra Bhave, Shantanu Sugwekar and Santosh Jedhe who really stood an excellent chance of breaking into the Indian ranks, but for reasons unknown just found themselves (and their efforts ignored). Bhave and Sugwekar were a deadly batting combination, while Jedhe was spoken of very highly as an all-rounder - something the Indian team desperately needed in the early and mid-90s. In more recent times, I think Iqbal Siddiqui made a quick cameo role in the 2001-02 series when England visited India.

It was heartening to read two articles that showed that Maharashtra cricket is doing fairly well. The first one which caught my eye stated that Chandrakant Pandit had been appointed the coach of the Maharashtra Ranji team, and offered reasons on why he quit the Mumbai team. I was surprised, as I'd read somewhere that the Maharashtra Cricket Association had appointed an Aussie Darren Holder as a "high-performance" coach. The Mah. association sure took a bold step in this regard, because all said and done, the idea of a foreigner as a coach has never been digestable to the common man. Last year Punjab took a bold step by calling in the ex-Pakistani coach Intikhab Alam to coach their Ranji team, and it worked wonders with Punjab reaching the Ranji finals this year! One might say that too many cooks spoil the broth, but I do hope Chandu and Holder get along well and lift Maharashtra to success.

The other article was a slight disappointment, considering the fact that Tendulkar was not going to play the Zimbabwe Test series; but had good signs in that Dheeraj Jadhav was going to be replacing him. I have only heard/read of Jadhav's talents and it should be a huge boost to Maharashtra cricket if he does indeed get a chance and he does well. Although some folks might disagree, I think Tendulkar did the sensible thing by sitting out the Zimbabwe tour. I wish Tendulkar had taken things a bit easy and given his elbow a little time to rest instead of playing through the Pakistan series.

PS: I'm glad the press isnt too euphoric over the Indian victory over Zimbabwe!

Memories of days gone by...

2005-08-29T17:52:00.000-04:00

In the past week I've gotten back in touch with two classmates I hadnt spoken to in almost 10 years (ever since I left Campion)- Beowda and Rosy (their Campion nicks). It's been an interesting thing (to say the least) catching up on the latest from both guys. Amazing to think that Rosy's now married and settled in London, while Beowds is almost a doc and works at one of the state-of-the-art hospitals in the US @ UPMC.

There still are some blokes I havent met in the 9 years - Terminator, BhopuGas, Koyal, Prince, Jaimbia, Jallu, Karlos, Jordan, ShakuniMama and Chachu. Some friends stay on the radar, some just disappear without a trace. Some have kept in touch via chat/email (Bablya, BigBull, S*xBomb, Fishy), others by phone and a couple I've met on a relatively regular basis (like H*r*y, Tipsy, Monkey, the Tolles, Vazi, Turkey, Gay1).

Everytime we meet up or speak to one another, we invariably run a roll-call and rack our brains over what news either of us has about the various guys in class. More often that not it leads to us reminescing on some arbit incident which happened in school. It's amazing how each of us remembers different incidents, though with some guys there's a stand-out incident which no one will forget!

We cant forget:
Gomo the momo - he and his threats to chew the marrow of some unsuspecting student's bones...
ILP and his Panjabi-isms.....(he was/is God in Campion imho)
Callu - and his B L X Bh...and who can forget "WATTAH"
Chaudhri - she of "page tirty-tree"
Alphonso - and his wisecracks of "Pande-Wande's too-ishuns"!
Alvaro - and his sermons...which drove the A-section to tears....gave us B-boys a good laugh...we never let the A-guys forget the day they let their guard down and let the tears flow...BOYS DONT CRY!
Frakash (...sorry Prakash) - he who mixed his P's and F's...Deepak poor bloke hasnt been forgotten!
Yadav and Dangle - who could scare the daylights out of even a hippo!
Uncle Louie - The more I practice...the more I score....
Kaydee - and his wisecracks.....
FidoDido - the coolest!

But amidst the mirth, there will always be one point which gets us sober - Miss Goswami. She taught us Geography in the 9th and 10th. She was new to school in the 9th, and was our class-teacher. We sure gave her a rough time, even driving her to tears on a few occasions. She screamed, screeched, walked out - it didnt have any effect on us - but we irritated her the same! Even lectures from Nannu didnt work, until he actually threatened to suspend the entire class.

The 'ragging' continued through the 10th, but slightly muted - possiibly because everyone was worried about their survey maps in the ICSE exams. We had pretty much made our peace with her, and we used to kid her about her single status - sometimes even linking her up with ILP! After school, we all got along well with Ms. G and used to joke about the tough times we gave her. She treated us just like made it a point to ask everyone about their love life and in turn we used to kid her about the masters in school who were bachelors. I met her pretty much everytime I went back to school.

When we heard she was getting married in 2001, all of us were pretty happy and the guys in Bombay had plans of attending the reception there. But then fate willed otherwise. We still shake our heads in disbelief thinking back and wondering how He could snatch her away the evening before her wedding.

And they say her Scooty still lies at 13 Cooperage Road, as a kind of reminder/memorial to her! Some day we guys hope to set up some sort of scholarship-fund (in Ms. G's memory) for students at Campion - if everything works out (we're still discussing the feasibility of the whole thing)!

And so that's that....

Bravery and Awards - Part 2.

2005-08-29T10:32:00.000-04:00

WHY are we handing out military honors to silver medallists at Olympics, when the brave men who guard our frontiers and fight for our nation go unrewarded?!

Looks like we are a nation with misplaced priorities! Ridiculous!

On the topic of awards, I was amused to see Cyrus Poncha's name among the list of Dronacharya awardees. I do believe that there are other folks who deserve the award more - the case in point being Joaquim Carvalho (one of the gurus of Mumbai hockey). There's a website which lists the 'grievances' against Poncha. Some of their points make a fair bit of sense - especially the 'poaching' he does to get people to train at the academy in Chennai. Looks like has a HUGE grudge against Joshna Chinappa!

Forgotten soldier

2005-08-26T22:20:00.000-04:00

Was surprised to come across an article by G. Rajaraman in Outlook, 'sparing a thought' for Vinod Kambli. It came as a huge shock to read that not too many people were standing by him (and Rajaraman hoped he'd be proved wrong on this one).

I was reminded of the heady days of the spring of 1993 when Kambi went berserk against the Pommies and then against the hapless Zimbabweans, scoring two double centuries in a row - and also doing pretty well in the ODIs against England. Those who were at the Wankhede that day will remember the pasting Kambli gave a hapless John Emburey. Kambli (and Sachin in the second test and good ol' Azhar in the first Test) along with the spin trio of Kumble, Chauhan and Raju went a long way in the 'brownwash' the Pommies got.

If I remember right, Sachin went through a slightly lean patch (by his standards) against the Englishmen (the brilliant century at the Chepauk notwithstanding). In one of his interviews I clearly remember him making a remark about how Sachin took the elevator to the top, while he (Kambli) got there via the stairs.

Some time after that, the world began to see a very flashy Kambli - almost like he underwent a total metamorphosis into this supposedly 'cool dude', a far cry from his Kanjur Marg (??) origins. And with that, his cricket went downhill. His weakness against the short ball was brutally exposed when the Windies toured India in 1994-95, and I dont think he recovered from that point onwards.

For one, I could well imagine how much it hurts to see his childhood buddy Sachin be the toast of India. But then I guess Kambli has only himself to blame for his problems - all the partying and boozing has taken its toll. I remember watching him play a Ranji game against TN at the Guru Nanak grounds in Chennai in early 2002, and it was painful! It was tough to imagine that this was the same player who whacked the stuffings out of some of the better English bowlers, and here he was struggling miserably against some part-time TN bowler!

As far as I know, the Mumbai cricketing community is probably one of the closest-knit ones. So it comes as a huge surprise to read that Kambli was pretty much all on his own through his latest 'crisis'.

For every Tendulkar, there is a Kambli. For every Kumble, a Laxman Sivaramakrishnan. Both Kambli and Siva were the toast of Indian cricket once, but then they let it all slip away in the whirlpool of fame and femmes! Ofcourse Siva did manage to 'resurrect' himself (if thats the right word) as a TV commentator, and one only hopes that Kambli's stars will align themselves in a suitably lucky position soon.

Sports and work

2005-08-25T17:28:00.000-04:00

I was quite amused to read that Rajyavardhan Rathore was awarded the AVSM (Ati Visisht Seva Medal) - the second highest military honor for serving officers - last year. For what one might ask, and the answer stares you right in the face!

I have no idea about the gentleman's exploits in the Army, but the medal was surely for the silver he clinched at the Athens Olympics. It was a huge achievement undoubtedly, but to award him a military honor for that reeks of something nasty! Let's face it, Mr. Rathore earned his plaudits and awards on the sportsfield, and he got his due there. Why was there any need to give him an honor that (I think) is normally awarded to the top military commanders for their work or for brave men who have played their role on the frontiers?

I do remember that after her brilliant performance at the Asiad in the mid-80s PT Usha too wanted a promotion in her Railways job! Our good ol' friend Mohd. Azharuddin thought he needed a promotion in SBI after winning the test series against England in 1993 - well before he found other means to supplement his meagre income! Needless to say Azhar didnt get his promotion to the DGM level!

I think sports-people in India are a fairly insecure lot, partly because opportunities dont exist post-retirement (or when the music is over!). A lot of them just disappear into oblivion. Some are remembered off and on for their achievement, but most just fade away. However, sportspeople abroad shift gears and move into the corporate world with ease, or just go into coaching.

One case which comes to my mind clearly is Eric Heiden. He won 5 gold medals at the Lake Placid Winter Olympics in 1980 and was active on the cycling circuit for a few years before he moved into retired life. Even after quitting the arena, he joined medical school and is now a leading orthopedic surgeon.

It's the uncertain future which ails Indian sports-people. It's probably the reason why the Yuvrajs and Irfan Pathans do whatever advertisements they can do now, when the going is good. Who knows what the future might hold for them a year or two down the line. Might as well make merry while the sun shines. But yet at the same time, they lose focus on what they're mainly here to do - play cricket!

It's all a vicious cycle all said and done!

The Mahabharatha redefined

2005-08-23T13:47:00.000-04:00

I was speaking to a friend the other day, and we were talking about Karna and suddenly he came up with one of the most amusing bloopers I have heard in a while. According to him, Yudhishthira was Karna's father! It had me laughing uncontrollably, but to an extent it just reminded me of how at times we 'forget' the epics.

All said and done, I'd say the Mahabharatha is one of my favorite 'books'. It's full of characters of various hues, some a slightly darker shade of pale. To this day, I cant but help but sympathize with Karna, for all his 'hardships' and the tought choices he had to make. The dilemmas and secrets Kunti harbored from the Pandavas. It would be interesting to put a spin on things and wonder what might have transpired had Karna been 'accepted' as the eldest of the Pandavas.

I never realized that Veda Vyaasa had a lot more 'personal touch' with the storyline than just dictating the text to Ganesha! But then I guess Amar Chitra Katha suitably censored those parts, or I missed them!

Bheeshma comes across as a very honorable old man, but as a kid I despised him because he sided with the Kauravas in the war - yes, I had a different set of rules when it came to Karna!

The battle of Kurukshetra is an epic within an epic. The sheer force of the Bhagavad Gita is simply amazing - the words ring true even today! It still amazes me how Abhimanyu learned only the way in to a chakravyuh, and didnt learn the way out! The death of Drona reads as one of the particularly dramatic sequences, where Yudhishthira had to lie that Ashwatthama (an elephant, and not Drona's son) had indeed been killed. With that lie, his chariot which normally always stood a few inches above the ground (due to his greatness), came down to the ground.

All said and done I'd tend to think Krishna was a very shrewd player. Two instances stand out on the battlefield - the death of Karna, and the slaying of Jayadratha. All said and done both had their roles to play in the death of Abhimanyu, and Karna had laughed when Draupadi was insulted in the court - so that naturally had Arjuna baying for their blood. But still, killing Karna while he was trying to rescue his chariot from the sinking mud was slightly unfair consdering the high 'standards' set by all concerned!

For some reason when you think of the characters, one immediately visualizes the people who played the roles in the TV serials (so much for the media!)! (Also speaks volumes about what a good casting job the Chopras did!). Yes, we did have those shady battle sequences to deal with - but back then slick computer graphics were a long way off from Indian shores!

Shashi Tharoor's Great Indian Novel is an amazing 'parody' (if thats the word) where all the events in India's post-Independent history have been superimposed on the storyline of the Mahabharatha. It sure makes some amusing reading!

New York..New York...

2005-08-10T00:17:00.000-04:00

There's something about New York which gets my heart pumping and the adrenaline flowing. Looking across the Hudson at Manhattan as the bus winds its way up/down (depending on whether you're leaving or entering NYC) the ramp leading into the Holland Tunnel is a mind-blowing sight.

I ventured into the city the other day, with the mission of avoiding the subway and walking around the city - experience the city up close and in my face! I must have walked something like 120-140 blocks (and that's not counting the avenues I crossed). It gave me an opportunity of experiencing one of the most amazing cities in the world, and a chance to think/analyze on a lot of things.

86 storeys above 'sea-level', the observation deck of the Empire State Building is quite a decent place to look out at the city, but not the best place to get some thinking done. All said and done, the hour and a half I spent waiting in line for tickets to the obs. deck was well worth it.

Central Park is an interesting place, filled with its share of kookie characters as well as the normal ones jogging, walking or meditating. Good place to analyze the past and make plans for the future, and also shoot the breeze with the couzin!

In some ways, NYC reminds me of Bombay. Maybe it's the josh. But yet I do believe Bombay's lost its charm over the years.

It's one of those places where you can forget you're from smallville and think BIG! Like Sinatra sang:

New york, New York
I want to wake up in a city, that never sleeps
And find I’m a number one top of the list, king of the hill
A number one

These little town blues, are melting away
I’m gonna make a brand new start of it - in old new york
And if I can make it there, I’m gonna make it anywhere

It up to you - New York New York

So that's that...

Freedom at Midnight

2005-08-09T23:21:00.000-04:00

Finally got down to reading Freedom at Midnight over the weekend, and finished it this evening. It's been on my 'to-read' list, but somehow never got down to reading it.

At the outset I'd say it's a masterpiece - the spelling mistakes notwithstanding (arent I a grammar Nazi!). Although some folks might say it read like a history book, it gives one a ringside view (ah cliches!) to what went on behind the scenes as Aug 15th 1947 drew near. Towards the end it also focused on the assassins of the Mahatma, looking at their strategies and how they planned everything out. I think Lapierre and Collins did a brilliant dissection of every character in that book - be it Jinnah or Godse, Nehru or Mountbatten. Thankfully they didnt delve into the Nehru-Edwina equation at all, and concentrated instead on the equation Nehru shared with Lord Mountbatten.

One armed valour

2005-07-31T17:42:00.000-04:00

It beats me as to how India got blown away by Jayasuriya on Saturday night. Here was a man batting with one arm and the Indians couldnt prise him out! I sometimes wonder if India's gone back to the days when it did not have the ability to deliver that killer punch to knock out the enemy, having got him on the ropes.

The only other one-handed effort I can think of right now was by Malcolm Marshall against England in 1984. He broke his thumb, but came out to bat and helped Larry Gomes get past the century-mark. When he came on to bowl, his left hand was in plaster and he bowled a vicious spell taking 7-53 and routing the Pommies.

I dont think I can really think of an Indian with a comparable performance bar Anil Kumble in the Windies in 2002 (when he bowled with his jaw in a bandage). I think our cricketers lack the courage (and gumption) to take the opposition bull by the horns (ah, the cliche!). Like someone said, "we're the best batsmen at the non-striker's end"!

PS:I have been in Clemson since Wednesday, and it's been one huge rush - running around getting things done and settling in. It amazes me that I'm 3h ahead of PST and it gives me a strange kick! Maybe I'm still in Irvine-mode.

Fabric

2005-07-26T05:35:00.000-04:00

2.30 on a Tue morning and I'm actually blogging. Just listened to this song called "Fabric" which featured on the "Monsoon Wedding" OST. It's one of the most beautiful songs, and I can still recall the backdrop on which it was picturized - a gloomy, rainy Delhi sky.

Have always associated this particular song with gloomy evenings - especially all those Sunday evenings back home. I still do have the song buzzing off and on in my head.

Today's my last day in Irvine, and needless to say I leave with a heavy heart. It is tough to say adios to one's amigos - but it has to be done! Might be back in November for the U2 show - gives me a reason not to sell those tickets! Biking past the old haunts brought back memories.

So that's that.....

Vasantha Bhavan

2005-07-21T01:49:00.000-04:00

So on Sunday morning, after much efforts waking Thendi up, we set out for Venice enroute to Camarillo. Since it was almost lunchtime by the time we hit the road, we planned a lunch stop at Madras Tiffin Cafe in Cerritos (Artesia). Sundi had taken K there when he was a fresher, and K couldnt stop raving about it.

We reached the place to find Madras Tiffin Cafe transformed into Hotel Vasantha Bhavan, replete with Gulti maami as the 'woner'! We were a bit apprehensive about the food, but went ahead and hit the buffet anyway! In between all the jokes cracked at the expense of the pseud-maamis, we polished off 4 masala vadais, 3 thayir-vadais, two uthappams and three masala dosais! Gee, we sure had an appetite! We had found heaven (for South Indian food)- at last! It's unfortunate that I wont be around to relish another meal at Vasantha Bhavan soon!

Invariably at any Indian restaurant you'll find a few pseud-types. They will come in their Sunday best and eat their dosas/uthappams with forks and knives. They have this almost supercilious air about them watching us 'junglees' eating with our fingers. But when they run into trouble (which happens invariably), fork and knife goes for a toss and out come the fingers.

The maamis might have been in the US for less than five years, but irrespective of whether they are from Mylapore or Mahbubnagar district they MUST put on their best American accent. One maami got her money's worth when she asked one of the staff where she could pay in her best English (which even the Queen would have been proud of). The guy replied: "Naa tamizh dhaan....Tamizh-le pesi-na podhum! (I'm Tamilian, so please dont hesistate to talk in Tamil)"!!!! I bet the maami was suitable impressed to say the least!

Then there's the pesudo-humble maami who shuttles from table to table trying to make polite conversation with other patrons in the restaurant (much to the chagrin of her glowering hubby, who invariably has IITM written all over him). It's probably the last dregs of the dormant Bharata Natyam artiste, soon to be (or already) soccer mum. The kids ofcourse dont give two hoots about Indian food - it aint cool enough.

Who can miss the Gulti family from the deepest parts of Karimnagar district! The hubby looks like he walked straight out of some comic strip - a living example of Homer Simpson (D'oh!). The wifey ofcourse has been in the US for just two years and hasnt been suitably Americanized. The kid is completely desi, drooling and regurgitating stuff all over the tablecloth much to the mother's amusement, and screeching at the top of it's voice!

Oh in all this, forgot to mention the three morons watching and laughing their guts out!

So thats that...The only minus point for Vasantha Bhavan - their saunf is pathetic. God knows what rubbish they smoke and pass off as saunf !

The quest for a good 'South Indian' restaurant

2005-07-19T03:24:00.000-04:00

K, V and I have been desperately seeking a good South Indian restaurant for the past two years. In our quest, we have visited (not necessarily eaten) at some interesting places. All have been in CA, except for the one I visited in Irving last week.

With all due respect to the restaurants dishing out Southie fare, you folks havent an iota of an idea of how to make good idli/vada/dosai. I'm sure all the ABCDs must sure be impressed with your fare, but for hardcore connoiseurs like V, K and yours truly, your idlis taste like thermocol, the sambhar gives gutter water a fair competition, and your paper dosai tastes a tad better than what else - PAPER!

In the same breath, I cannot but humbly request the 'woners' (read: owners) of the Saravana Bhavans and other 'Bhavans' to kindly refrain from serving up stuff like "Pollock" (read: Palak) Panneer and the like. Let's try and stick to our respective domains of expertise and experience. Fusion is good (undoubtedly), but like someone said, it often leads to confusion.

One of the no frills attached places I've been to is the Komala Vilas in Sunnyvale. This is a frequent haunt for desi dudes (and their spouses) after a tough morning's cricket in the vicinity. The coffee's really good, but the rest of the stuff wasnt up to the mark. Ah and one more thing - the cashier bills you Indian-style, on chits of paper!

We've attempted raiding the Saravana Bhavans in Sunnyvale and Cupertino on more than occasion - mainly coz of the name! On one occasion, there was a power outage in the Sunnyvale area (and we had to satisfy our hunger on some lousy Subway sandwiches), while on the other two occasions, we just couldnt get into the place.

A few months ago, we hit this place called Tirupati Bhima's in Milpitas. It's supposedly run by Sri Krishna Sweets (the naming funda still intrigues us), the famous makers of that lovely jilebi and mysurpa! The place had just opened and despite waiting for an hour, we couldnt find a table. But then we werent as aggressive as some of the Andhra folks there!!

Last week, thanks to Narayan's buddies RD and Mr. Balla (who I discovered was a couple of years senior to me in college) we ate an excellent buffet at "Rice and Roll" in Irving. It blew our brains out, and had our mouths watering. The vadas and dosas were out of this world. I think all of us gorged mainly on the vadas and dosas - tandoori chicken and lamb curry be damned! Ah, and we topped it off with some home-made mango ice cream. All in all, I wonder how we drove all the way back to Austin after such a heavy meal - hats off to Narayan!

I cut myself short here.....the crowning glory shall be revealed tomorrow! Till then will have to leave u well...smacking your lips waiting for tomorrow!?!?

And then there was one....

2005-07-13T22:19:00.000-04:00

One of the main reasons I got past the first few weeks here in Irvine was thanks to the incessant jokes and discussions we guys had in Cornell - some lasting till 5am. It went a huge way towards keeping my thoughts off home and other 'sentimental' stuff!

We are a crazy bunch, each one a specimen in his own right. Each of us has our own 'style' and idiosyncrasies. But yeah, we had a blast - even after we moved to our own apartments in Verano later on.

The bike rides to the beach.....
Hangin' at Donut Star....
The dinner discussions....
The I-90 incident....
The 'sanitary napkin' stealer......
The joint cooking sessions.....
Birthdays.......
Weekend cleaning sessions.....
EA Sports Cricket 2004 tournaments.....
Sdey-isms......
Road trips to SD, the Bay Area....
Putting fundae........

And so a fortnight from now it will be one dude standing in Irvine. Hopefully each one of us will find our Valhalla (or has already found it)!

So this weekend it's one last time..before we turn the page...and another chapter comes to an end...

Kokomo and other good luck charms....

2005-06-28T23:21:00.000-04:00

Rarely has a song influenced a certain event in my life more than "Kokomo" by the Beach Boys. I would tend to believe it's more than coincidence.It's almost been a good luck charm for me (and my team) whenever we have heard the song before/during a quiz. The other good luck charm is something on the lines of the dance the All-Blacks do before they play a game of Rugby. Something which might raise a few eyebrows, considering the violence involved!

It all started out with the BQC of 1994-95 when we were driving to Nanavati in Skywalker's car one foggy November morning and the usual morning show was on Radio MidDay. What plays...Kokomo....and thats where it all started. Back then Nanavati studios was a bit of an underground lair. While getting ready I happened to knock my head against an AC vent overhead. Since then, the minor head-banging became part of the school quiz team and Similar Aspirations "start-up" routine! I know Skywalker sure wasnt amused to get his banged around by me!

I know someone reading this will attribute Campion and SimAsp successes (and failures) to the presence of some folks who were regular flag waving "well-wishers", but then I cant but help wonder and ponder on Kokomo and the head-banging routine! To the VTS one(s) and Saam...Thanks a ton!

And so that's that.....

Eknath Solkar - RIP

2005-06-26T12:15:00.000-04:00

Eknath Solkar passed away in Bombay today. The first time I heard his name was probably in the late 80s or early 90s, when his 'office team' won one of the local tournaments in Bombay - it was either the Kanga League or the Times Shield. ToI (which back then was quite a good newspaper) had profiled him and his achievements for India. I was quite surprised that someone was playing (and winning) local league cricket for his office well after his India career had ended.

What I didn't appreciate back then (rather didnt realize) was the huge difference he made fielding close-up for India, that too without a helmet. I cant think of a greater close-in fielder than him. Today the Shiv Sunder Das', Laxmans and Chopras all field with varying degrees of protection, but back then the helmet was not around and most people just crouched at forward short leg and took the pounding if and when it came. Raman Lamba was unfortunate to take a blow to the head which turned out to be fatal.

And so Ekkie Solkar passes on......and quite flows the Don....

Stargazing....

2005-06-26T00:28:00.000-04:00

Happened to be driving by University Hills yesterday evening, and found a notice about the 'open house' at the observatory. The UCI observatory is located on a dirt track off the main drive in University Hills, affording a grand view of the whole of Irvine. It was a mindblowing view to just look out on the town. We could see planes land and take off from John Wayne, and somewhere in the distance there were fireworks. The dirt-track leading to the observatory is unlit and we had to navigate it by the light of the moon and my cellphone. It's also supposedly cougar country, but then none of us really worried too much! It's one of those places where the serenity (cougars notwithstanding) just takes your breath away, and I do plan on taking a walk there sometime. It was also a bit of a coincidence that I had been talking to NA about stargazing the previous evening.

My exploits with astronomy have been pretty limited, but I have gazed out at the stars on many a clear night and taken it all in. I'm good enough to make out Orion's belt and Mars and Venus in the twilight sky - the buck stops there with me. I do remember hanging with my building gang back in 1996-97, watching the Hyukatake comet whizz past in the sky. I also have vague memories of being woken up one night when I was 5, to look at the Halley's Comet. At that time it was amusing to think that I wouldnt see the Halley's comet again, unless I was alive into my 80s! AN and I still have a running joke about the Hale-Bopp comet - it reminds us of Cyndi Lauper's song "She-bop"!

Apparently Venus, Mercury and Saturn align in a straight line today(June 25), and the open house was probably in anticipation of it. The main UCI telescope was focused on a nebula 30,000 light years away (!!!). Most of the folks were quite disappointed just to wait 1-1.5h just to see a few white specks on a black background through an eyepiece. But the sheer magnitude of the distance is a humbling thought - much like we look at cells and organelles under a microscope.

We also got an opportunity of seeing Jupiter and Saturn last night in all their glory. We could see the cloud layers on both planets - we couldnt see the red spot on Jupiter, coz the telescope wasnt powerful enough I guess.

It's going to be a heavy duty weekend, with a lot of thinking and analysis - academic and personal. There is the old adage, that it is "written in the stars". I have not really been a firm believer in that, but then was reminded of it last night at the observatory. The next 2 weeks are going to be crucial for me as I take important decisions - some short-term and some long-term, some I love making, but a few which I feel I would be better off not thinking about. I just hope that the plans dont come to naught and I end up with half a page of scribbled lines. Yeah, Pink Floyd's "Time" does ring true oh-so-often. So please do keep your fingers crossed for my sake and hope that it all works out for the best.

And so that's that....

What's buzzing:
Yanni...Live at the Acropolis...

Soda, Jap-cakes, Sunshine Snack Corner and some Ecstasy...

2005-06-23T14:22:00.000-04:00

As always, something had to inspire me into posting. This time it was Sunil's memories of the Bangalore Iyengar bakeries and other places he frequented through his school-days.

Most people who know me will probably vouch for my ravenous appetite - it's a different story that none of it shows (except for that not-so-minor-now paunch). I love food, plain and simble. I got my sweet tooth from Amma's side, while the love for savouries came from Achan's side! Quite a combination indeed.

My earliest memories of food would probably be of my maternal grandmother's fried fish (yeah I hear some people going "Siva Siva!!!"). The story about my request for "mo' phish" like Oliver Twist has been repeated innumerable times, that it's almost like family folklore now. Yeah I still relish fried fish. I long for the day I'll be home in Coimbatore, and I can say the same thing to Amma!

I was introduced to the pleasures of plain soda at the age of 3 by my maternal grandfather. Almost every night he'd have half a bottle of plain soda, and I'd get my share in a kutty stainless steel tumbler (geez, it's been ages since I used that word!).

Summer vacations and visits to Coimbatore would be incomplete without jilebis, mysurpa(k) and japanese cakes. I really used to love digging into the juicy j's and mouthwatering mysurpa. There always would be a 6-pack of j-cake waiting for me when I went to the Ammammas' house. Yes, I got addicted to this stuff thanks to my grandparents and grand aunts! Even during my college days, there have innumerable times (on my visits to Odyssey) I've popped in at SKS next door and gobbled a J or Mysurpa(k). Cant wait to do it soon!

Growing up in Bombay exposed me to stuff other than what "mom would like you to eat". I remember buying Ravalgaon's "Pan Pasand" for 25p apiece at the bus-stop while returning from school. When Amma heard about it, she thought I'd get hooked onto it. Needless to say I'm not hooked, but I wonder if the sweet is still manufactured nowadays!

Sunshine Snack Corner was this snack bar around the corner from where I used to stay. It was run by a bunch of bawas/baawis and they sure dished out some really delicious stuff. Their frankies were just out of this world (My mouth just watered at the thought of it!). Apparently some 20 years ago when I went there with my cuzin, I told the guy there "Gold Spot lao.....jaldi lao!". I presume it's a figment of my cuzin's fertile imagination, but yet again the story has been repeated so many times that it's again family folklore now!

Speaking of Gold Spot, it was a HUGE favorite when I was in Hyd. I must have been 2 then, and loved my "Gol-pot", coz it had those rubbery "things under the cap" which had characters from the cartoon Jungle Book. Limca became a favorite, till I had to drink a 300 ml bottle in 10 seconds and answer questions at the Limca Quiz. One Antara Datta (or one of her cronies) ran into a bit of trouble at the quiz once and showered the other teams with Limca. Needless to say the rest of us were so honored that we gifted the La Marts girls the quiz!

College days were the days of chola-poori in the canteen. God knows how many of that Bhillu/Dosai/Puffy/Venks and me wolfed down. Cant ever forget how we'd wait for the clock to strike 4pm and then hangout at the canteen, discussing the days events over pepsi and chola poori. Somehow I never touched the "meals" even once in my college days! Yes, those were good days! I got hooked to spaghetti thanks to the maan himself, Sunil, who back then was an awesome cook - presume he still rocks...should ask Arati for her opinion!

The Infy days were largely spent eating out. No cold coffee/Starbucks Frappuccino will ever come close to the Ecstasy the Mavanes, Yu and Pu used to have at CCD inside Keonics. In Aamanthran and Sukh Sagar, my orders are part of Mavane legend! It always would be Butter naan with either butter chicken or panneer masala as the side-dish. I have been woken up on occasion at 2am to hear that someone was eating my favorite dishes. Ah, and who can forget the awesome egg curry we used to get in the Old Infy building food court. Magnifico! Oh yeah, and the Dominos pizzas on weekends...

Sometime soon I'll be back and possibly check out the old haunts with the gang. Till then it's fingers and toes crossed....

Playing midfield

2005-06-14T22:22:00.000-04:00

Was talking to "Paolo" a few months ago about getting back to playing football (or soccer for all you Americans). I hadnt played it in a long time, especially after my knee injury, and felt really good playing it after what seemed like ages. Watching Euro 2004 was a bit of a strain, especially since my legs got itchy seeing all that fancy footwork from the likes of Zidane, Figo et al.

For some reason, I played very few soccer games during my college days back in Chennai - it was more cricket and basketball. Guys like Pedo, Bhillu and Avishek were regulars on the ACTech football team and used to practice regularly.

So the discussion invariably lead to what positions we played at. Paolo, much like his idol Maldini played defence, while I would like to think I played as a sweeper ala Beckenbauer. Paolo's riposte to this was "Ah, jidhar ball jaaye, udhar gol maare! You can literally score for both teams!", which had both of us in splits. But Paolo being the nice guy he is, clarified that the phrase actually personified midfielders! Ever since, the midfielder has come to personify someone unsure about something and happy to go either way (in a charitable way), and someone who will play for both sides (in an uncharitable way)!

Was walking in Aldrich Park (the central park around which UCI is built) this morning, ruminating on some stuff. I enjoy company, but there are some times when I just need some time on my own, all alone - this was one of those times. It's been two long years here, and to say that I look forward to going home and seeing my folks would be an understatement. I have seen the changes in me and around me. I thought I was a thinker back when I was in college, but having come here, that skill has been sharpened a great deal. Out here I make ALL my own decisions and face the consequences, be it as simple as buying a can of coke or something as tough as planning a skydive!

I have made my share of mistakes and have learned from them. There have been "twice-bitten" cases, but I can rest assured that the third occasion does not/will not arise. I have tried assimilating whatever advice folks pass my way. Most of the time it's been helpful to a large extent, although there have been times I have ignored the warning signs and plunged headlong only to hit the bottom of the pool.

There are certain issues where I have played attacker, and some where I have been content to play midfield (in a good way ofcourse). Like I said in an earlier post, it's all about what one really wants. A chat earlier this weekend with a friend from Chennai also got me (and him) thinking about the pros and cons of the PhD. I definitely want to finish my PhD from a good school, that's for sure - for now I dont know which one it will be! For now I do believe that I dont want to be second-guessed on this one. I may not have a 5-figure salary (bordering on 6) right now, which undoubtedly will be a disappointment to some folks, but five years down the line I have faith that this investment of time/money/patience and a whole lotta other stuff will pay its dividends. It's all about keeping the faith and not losing hope, and also being honest with yourself.

"Bill Gates", "Chris Rock" and I had a very interesting discussion over lunch the other day up in San Jose. Have known them from my college days, thru Infy and now in the US. The last time we met was on Elliott's Beach as the sun set on a fab evening - I think we hung out in and around the beach all day! 3 folks, about as similar as you can get, but with totally different outlooks on life. Bill and Chris both have steady jobs (thankfully), and naturally their folks are on the lookout for a suitable spouse. Bill and "Nancy Drew" have known each other since the first semester of college and have been thru thick and thin together. Both parents are ok with the match, but then the chief protagonists are still unsure, so it's pretty much a roadblock there. Chris, despite all the jokes is pretty worried about the next India trip for whatever surprises it may throw up! The M-word is a non-no nowadays! Ultimately we conclude it's all about holding on/out for what we want, which neednt necessarily be the same as what our parents want for us. But then at the end of the day it's up to the individual to decide whether to pursue something, or just let it die a natural death. Like the adage goes, you can bring the horse to the water-hole, but u cant make it drink! There are a zillion things which might have meant a fair bit to us a few years ago, but today they're just bricks in the wall!

I'm content to otherwise play midfield on the M-issue and a host of others. I have more than enough on my plate, and handling a few more tensions isnt worth it! I got the surprise of my life a few weeks ago, and whatever people may say about omens (reading Paulo Coelho a fortnight ago doesnt help matters!), it's 'better' (using that word with a lot of care/apprehension) to think beyond the present on omens and the like. I guess even the people who kid me about things (some over the past 4-5 years about DESTINY) do realize that everything has a 'darker shade of pale' too! But yes, there has been a bit of a paradigm shift in the way I have analyzed the situation on second/third/n-th thoughts! It reminds me of the discussion I had with a friend the other day about the rules (she called it the 'gospel') we live by. Her gospel seemed simple enough - there is no gospel! She claims she realized this over the years, as her views on different things in life changed with age. I wouldnt analyze things too radically, but I guess our views on things change gradually (for better/worse), but yet certain core values remain the same. She refuses to agree with me on that, counter-arguing that it's against her 'gospel' to have core values! To each man/woman his own!

And so that's that....a pithy patchy post...

What's buzzin...
Blue Oyster Cult...

Farewell Dr. Armstrong

2005-06-14T21:41:00.000-04:00

While waiting in line to pick up my graduation gown and cap, I happened to pick up the latest issue of the UCI Alumni Association monthly newsletter. It came as a HUGE shock to read that Dr. Kevin Armstrong was no more. He was just 39!

Dr. A was the doc I consulted when I twisted my knee last year in that infamous accident near Santa Barbara. I still remember sitting in the consulting room at the Med Center waiting to meet Dr. A, and in walks this tall, well built gentleman (I thought he would have played in the NFL!) with a wide smile and booming laugh. For some reason when he examined my knees, I was worried that he just might crack a bone or two, but then he treated it so gingerly - a far cry from that sukdu Dr. Z in Santa Barbara, who tried putting my knee back together without any anesthesia! Like his name, he sure looked strong-armed. Infact he worked with the Pittsburgh Steelers on their medical staff for a few years before he joined UCI.

Over the next couple of months, I made quite a few follow-up visits, and each time I met him we joked about this and that. He kept kidding me about being weak kneed and its implications on finding a suitable girl (Aeromsith memorably sang on the topic of falling in love being hard on the knees!). [I didnt know back then that he was single, and had been voted by PEOPLE magazine as one of the top 50 bachelors in the USA, a huge honor on the celeb circuit; especially to be named up there along with Ben Affleck and other guys women swoon over!].

He was a good man, a humble man. A lot of the people I have worked with and spoken to at the Med Center held Dr. A in great esteem. Dr. S was telling me this afternoon, "He made a mark wherever he went, and made a huge difference in peoples lives". He sure left his mark on my knees.

So here I am, with stronger knees, "playing midfield", ready to take on the world. Everytime I admire 'em quadriceps, I pay tribute to a great man.

Dr. Armstrong - RIP...

Pink Floyd reunited!

2005-06-12T13:34:00.000-04:00

This is awesome! Been 24 long years .....

A Mumbaikar in Madras...

2005-06-12T02:12:00.000-04:00

Sunil summed up the whole idea of being a student from the vernacular medium studying in an English-medium institute like Anna U on his blog the other day. It inspired me into writing my own views on the whole experience of being an "outsider" in Anna University, like the proverbial
Englishman in New York - recognized, but not really accepted!

Anna University has its set of what Dr.O called "hindi-kaarans". These folks were generally non-Tamilians who generally were from the Northern parts of the country, and from Day-1 itself were singled out for special treatment, both from their peers and from a few professors. I for one didnt really face much of this special treatment from my seniors, as I was a day scholar, plus there were folks who were nice enough to play "protector"!

Being from Bombay, word had gotten around about me on the first day itself, and I was pretty much a marked man. With all due respect to the average guy in Anna U, most of them look like a cross between T. Rajendran and Vadivel. The Leather Tech department was full of the rowdiest of the rowdies, and I got scorched pretty bad by a few folks there. I wasnt spared by the Biotech seniors either (both absolute pussycats as I'd discover later), who got together with two hulks of seniors from my department and ragged the daylights out of me in the ACTech canteen. But I was spared any major ragging thankfully. [Have heard a lot about Sunil's ragging abilities, but he fortunately spared me!!!]. The NCC interview ofcourse was a different story, with Messrs. Mothivel and Hariprasad (along with Sathish and Bruce skewering my best cadet chances with questions outside the 'curriculum').

Overall I got along pretty well with all the professors except two gentlemen - O and Gunz. O as mentioned earlier has generally had his knives out for every non-Tamilian student passing thru ACTech. Combined with the fact that I was a Mallu to boot, he had a sword ready for me. All the same it wasnt much fun having it dangle over my head, as he put deadline after deadline by which I was supposed to converse with him in pure Tamil, which naturally never happened, leading to many a snide remark over the next 2 years. I had the misfortune of having him as my viva examiner for an Organic Chemistry lab, which got me very close to scoring a 'cup'. But overall, he was a decent professor who taught fairly well and was concerned about ensuring that everyone understood whatever he taught.

Gunz was O's sidekick who taught us Math in the 3rd semester. For some weird reason, all the questions in class, kept getting directed at me and I got marked off for all the times (pretty much 100%) of the time I couldnt answer the question. Man, am I glad to have got past 3rd semester!

3rd semester was the craziest semester we AC-techers went through! Berchmans' lab...Cup-Kali's theory and lab....Karthiyaswami's weird Electrical Engg lab....Iyengar-saami's Strength of Materials class....Chinnakali's Materials Science class....amazing days!

The forgotten.....

2005-06-07T16:15:00.000-04:00

Prem's post (which linked me to an article by Rajaraman in Outlook) got me thinking about a couple of cricketers who were considered bright prospects, but for reasons unbeknown just never made it big, or had the chance to perform at the highest levels.

I am a firm believer in the general prevalence of a 'godfather' system in the Indian selection system. The 'quota'-raj ofcourse needs to be thrown out sooner rather than later, if we have to have the best team. There have been umpteen cases of lesser mortals donning the Indian cap at the expense of a few good men.

Sometime back Dr. Ramachandra Guha had conjectured on the scenario had Rajinder Goel played for India. He played before my time, and unfortunately I dont think I have seen films of him in action either. I think he was rated up there with the Spin Quartet, but never got a look-in because it would have meant dropping Bedi! In an interview with Cricinfo a couple of years ago, he was pretty matter-of-fact in stating that had he been born in another era, he would have been a shoo-in for the Indian cricket team. Paddy Shivalkar and Dilip Doshi were two other good spinners who lost out like Goel. (Doshi did play 33 tests, picking up 114 wickets, but had an uneasy equation with Sunny that ultimately led to the end of his stint with the Indian team).

Sometime in the early 90s the Haryana Ranji team was a force to reckon with on the domestic circuit. Besides Kapil, Chetan Sharma and a young Aja Jadeja, there was a (roly-poly) gentleman named Amarjeet Kaypee who just kept piling the runs on (to use a cricketing cliche!). He holds the record for the maximum runs scored in the Ranji Trophy (a record that was previously held by another pocket roller and joker called Ashok Malhotra), but never came close to being considered for the Indian team. It came as no surprise to hear his gripes.

One exclusion which has always intrigued me has been Amol Muzumdar's. He was (and is) one talented bloke, but has never gotten his due from the selectors. It is unfortunate that he too played in an era when the Indian middle-order was packed with the likes of Dravid, Laxman, Tendulkar and Ganguly. Now with the emergence of Kaif and Yuvraj, I don't see him making the team. Like Rajinder Goel, he will probably go down in the books as one of the greatest Indian batsmen never to have played for India.

Kanwaljeet Singh, the right arm offie for Hyderabad was infinitely more talented than his Hyd counterpart Venkatapathy "Muscles" Raju, but the closest he came to donning Indian colors was when he played for India 'A' against the touring England 'A' side in 1994-95. Though people say that his age was a factor, I guess it was more than that. The selectors probably had forgotten one Pat Symcox who played for the Proteas well into his forties, and was belting the bowlers all over the park!

Vikram Rathour and Sunil Joshi were two guys who made their debut on the Indian tour of England in 1996-97. Both had done extremely well in the first-class season in India, Rathour with the bat, while Joshi was being touted as the next all-rounder! But then the pitches in England and S.Africa exposed Rathour's inadequacies and he lost his place in the side. The reason he got a look-in was probably as a candidate for the opening slot. Joshi did marginally better than Rathour, but again just faded pretty much into oblivion with the rise of Harbhajan and Murali Kartik. The all-rounder debate still rages on. We have had flashes glimpses, caught out of the corner of our eyes - Agarkar's century at Lords, Irfan Pathan's bat-wielding skills are impressive, Zaheer hoicking Olonga out of the ground; but nothing which we can rely on as yet!

There hasn't been a single Mallu of note who has made waves on the domestic (forget international) cricket scene (Author's note: We're getting parochial arent we!). In my humble opinion, neither Abey Kuruvilla nor Tinu Yohannan (I cant think of any other Mallu who has made it to the Indian cricket team) were Indian-team material. KP Bhaskar was a force to reckon with on the domestic circuit in the mid-80s through the early 90s with Delhi (yeah, all Mallus prosper when they're out of the motherland!). Sambit Bal from Cricinfo paid tribute to the gentleman the other day in an interesting article.

In Sambit's article, he speaks about a few cricketers who were domestic lions, but tame pussycats on the big stage - Ashok Mankad, Brijesh Patel, Ashok Malhotra. Kambli and Graeme Hick (to digress a bit from the Indian system) were two players who were destined for better things, but just never made it big. [I think Hick is the only cricketer in the last 20 years to have scored a century of first-class centuries]. Kambli simply took it easy once he belted the Pommies and hapless Zimbabweans in 1993, while Hick just couldnt handle pace. I remember the Windies tour of India in 1994-95, when Kambli's weakness came to the fore and all of us in class were fervently hoping that he would manage to overcome it. Sad to say, he never did, and remains te prime example of the Indian cricketer who had everything going for him, but never lived up to his talents.

All these guys got "opportunities to fail" (as Sambit put it). On the other hand, poor KP Bhaskar (and Amarjeet Kaypee and Rajinder Goel) will forever remain "what-could-have-beens" questions in Indian cricket!

[This was started out on June 2nd 2005, and finished on June 7th, as u can see!]

Whodunnit in the Army?

2005-06-07T02:53:00.000-04:00

Looks like the scandal over the Brigadier who sold Pak plans in the '65 war is making huge headlines. For some reason I find it tough to believe that such a thing happened, and if it did, then like Col.(retd.) Athale wrote, "the Pakistani army would have had to be extraordinarily dumb!".

But yet, the man crying wolf is an eminent Pakistani and son of the Pak President at that time, Ayub Khan. Being a former minister (I think he was the Foreign Minister), I could bet that he knows better than to make empty allegations. And judging by his reaction on being given a list of names by Outlook, I suspect some hero is going to take a fall soon. 3 of the names in that list are familiar army heroes, the most famous one ofcourse being Field Marshal Manekshaw, besides OP Malhotra and GG Bewoor who were both Army chiefs.

As far as I know, in 1965 the Indian Army was within striking distance of Lahore when the white flag was raised and they pulled back (presumably under pressure from some quarter). Taking all this into account, I suspect someone just might have given the Pakistanis the wrong plans! Like the grandson of Deep Throat, we can declare the dude who leaked the plan a hero's salute!

-----------------------------------------

And so Mr. Advani has been making polite noises on his visit to Pakistan. With every passing day he comes up with something "sweet". I shake my head in disbelief! It's ok Mr. Advani, we believe that u werent involved in any conspiracy to assassinate Jinnah.

As I write this, Rediff has a headline which says that Advani has resigned as the BJP President. What will we hear next? "Advani takes sanyas on Mount Kailash"??

It sure was amusing to read that Mr. Advani called Jinnah a man of "impeccable secular credentials". And December 6th 1992 was the saddest day of his life! (Yeah, I am dating Kate Hudson!). As far as I know, Jinnah always wanted two countries, divided on the basis of religion. The end was simply "accelerated" by PJ Nehru's greed for the coveted PM's post (kissa kursi ka, circa 1947)! Although Patrick French (Jinnah's biographer) might call Gandhi a wily politician, imho Gandhi was helpless and hopelessly outmaneuvered by Nehru and gang in pressing for the 2-nation solution! Gandhi was a prisoner of his own conscience (to a large extent) and to a lesser extent I'd put the blame for a few of India's woes squarely on his shoulders. Nehru is ofcourse responsible for the majority of the problemos, though his undoings balanced his doings!

Wonder how many days more Mr. Advani has in Pakistan, and what else he can come up with? Will he apologize for the 1971 war? Will he toe the line of Mushy that Kargil never happened?
I frankly think the man has lost his marbles!

So that's that!

Michael Palin online!

2005-06-06T01:02:00.000-04:00

While googling for a link for my previous post, I came across this fabulous site, which has everything on Michael Palin's travels online! Books, photos, THE WORKS!

Vee, now u can read 'em all!

Book tagged...at last!

2005-06-05T23:46:00.000-04:00

After reading a couple of book tag memes, I had been fervently wishing someone would tag me. It took a good month or a little more, and finally it was Sunil (who's balanced his life) who tagged me! I'm very passionate about reading, much to amusement of my roomies (who see a book in the mail almost every 2-3 weeks - via Amazon Marketplace ofcourse). At any given time, you'll find bookmarks in 3-4 books. The bookshelf here is overflowing with books, files and the odd CD! The sole reason why I didnt buy one at Ikea was the fact that I'm surely moving within the next 2-3 months. Where I go....that's uncertain, but as the days go by it becomes clearer just a wee bit.

On to the books...

The last book I bought:
I'll name a few here, coz I bought them off the Amazon marketplace together.
Michael Palin's Around the World in 80 days
Michael Palin's Full Circle
Patricia Schultz's 1000 Places to see before you die
Shashi Tharoor's Great Indian Novel

The last book that I read:
The Alchemist - Paulo Coelho. Had nothing to read on the train back from Camarillo last night, so flicked the book from N-Ettan's collection. After reading all the travelogues by Messrs. Palin and Theroux, and the mindless (and brilliant) satire by Mr. Tharoor, this was one book which really made me think. Got me into a discussion with a co-passenger, which was really interesting. All the same, good to know that people here do appreciate good literature.

Which books have my bookmarks in them right now?
Michael Palin's Around the World in 80 days
Shashi Tharoor's Great Indian Novel
Rahul Bhattacharya's Pundits from Pakistan (thanks a ton for the book E & RE)
Paul Theroux's Dark Star Safari (last few pages, phew!)

Five books that have made me think/influenced me:
Here are a few of my favorites...
John Grisham's The Partner...The end was bittersweet! I bought it way back in 1997, and I might have read that ending a good 15-20 times, and everytime I read it, I feel kinda suffocated (the feeling that crushes u deep within). It was something totally out of the blue, coming from John Grisham.
Paulo Coelho's The Alchemist...It's a very simple story, almost like a children's fable, but the deeper meaning it carries is phenomenal, and impossible to miss.
Somerset Maugham's The Razor's Edge..It's all about the choices we make in life, and the way we want to lead our lives. I had my eyes on this for a long time (ever since I did my summer internship in Bombay in 2001, and RR told me about the book), but finally bought it here in Irvine last summer.
The Mahabharatha. This might sound corny, but here is one book I can never get enough of. I might have read this one atleast a good 15-20 times from cover to cover (a huge task, considering that the one I have by Kamala Subramaniam might have atleast 800 pages). There is a lot to assimilate everytime I read it, especially analyzing various characters.
Anurag Mathur's Inscrutable Americans...Another book which had me laughing uncontrollably pretty much all through. As a graduate student in the US, for some weird reason I sympathize with the dude a fair bit!
Vikram Chandra's Love and Longing in Bombay...Bought this is Chennai for just one reason, it had a snap of the Mumbai skyline on it! But the stories in there were absolutely amazing. Captured the essence of Mumbai, the sights, sounds, smells, weirdos, cops....

And so it's time for me to tag:

Bhillu the Rambling Man
Kartik Balasubramaniam who's supposedly playing Mindgames after reading the Vedas and Upanishads.
Dercosyst - supposedly in your face and he aint smiling! yeah right!
Govind of Halasya/Promiscuous Contemplations
Anjana of Afterword- politely rude, briskly vague and firmly unimaginative. it seems!
Anysh
Sumi/Tinkerbell from Never-neverland!

Bhel on the beach....in Bombay...

2005-06-05T22:39:00.000-04:00

Unfortunately of late, my daily dekko's becoming a weekly affair. Sorry 'bout that! It's a tough week, and probably wont post much.

All the same, was linked to Farokh Engineer's reminescences on Bombay via Uma's blog. He spoke about bhel-puri in Chowpatty followed by dinner at the then-Governor Dr. PV Cherian's place, which got me thinking about Mumbai beaches.

I never had bhel on the beach in Bombay, mainly coz Ammamma/Amma thought it was the unhealthiest place on earth. Even sugarcane/sugarcane juice was strictly no-no! Those who know me well enough would be amused to hear that I can count the number of times I have been to a proper beach in Bombay on my fingers.

Most of the visits were on class picnics (in school) to Governor's beach. To use a wee bit of American terminology, it's the Maharashtra Governor's own private beach, secluded from the hustle and bustle that's Walkeshwar, nestled in the Malabar Hill(s), gazing out across Backbay. The only time I remember hanging out at another beach was solitary occasion at the Juhu Beach after the BQC finals. I have never set foot on Chowpatty for some reason, though I have walked along Marine Drive on innumerable occasions.

The Bombay skyline coupled with the Queen's Necklace, is one of the most breathtaking sights I have seen. To stand on the Oberoi and gaze out all along Backbay is simply amazing to say the least. (Calling it the Oberoi Hilton is a joke, imho!). Driven along the entire stretch on a zillion occasions, mostly on #123 enroute to tuitions (at an unearthly 6am); though sometimes at 2am enroute to picking up/dropping someone off at Sahar. I remember walking up the road near Walkeshwar late one night and standing where the road curves into Malabar Hill. I just stood there, waves lashing below me, looking over the Bay...gazing at a city I love so much..pondering on life in general...watching a car once in a while wind its way across Marine Drive.

U can take a man out of Mumbai...but u cant take Mumbai out of a man! (what a way to end....with a cliche!)

The Desi Runaway Groom

2005-06-03T10:30:00.000-04:00

This happens in India too!
What if.....Jennifer Wilbanks and Rajiv Bhattacharya decided to take the plunge together....
What if.....both bride and groom did their separate escape acts...would they still be indicted?!

The cricketing debates...

2005-06-02T02:15:00.000-04:00

The last week or two has seen a raging debate in the cricketing press/blogosphere about a whole lot of issues.

The main one ofcourse being the wisdom of giving the Bangladeshis test status. This matter's been debating and flogged beyond imagination in a variety of articles out there on the net and in print! All I can say is that it's another one of Jaggu-dada's (vote-gaining) screw-ups. It would be interesting to see if he might be unseated in the near future, as the rumor goes!

Prem Panicker's blog linked me to an article by the well-known sports-writer Rajan Bala in the Asian Age. It evoked a mixture of emotions. much like Prem commented. I sure was amused to read that the eminent writer believes that if the Bengal Ranji team played Bangladesh 50 times, they'd win 49 times! I think it was gross exaggeration on his part. If he said that about New South Wales/Victoria vs. Bangladesh, it might have been a wee bit more plausible. Chester-le-Street is going to be another wake-up call for the poor Bangla "tigers", and I wish them luck all the same!

Despite all their bravado, playing against the hapless Bangladeshi team is probably the worst tune-up the Pommies could have bargained for, especially with the Ashes coming up next! The Pigeon has named his target(s) and it remains to see if someone from the English side can cook pigeon. One classic memory I have of McGrath getting really riled, was at the Chepauk in the 2000-01 series when he tried teaching Tendlya to hook/pull only to get despatched to the deep square leg boundary a couple of times! Tendlya sure gave it back to the Pigeon!

Another reference in the article to Younis Khan pulling strings to get the vice-captaincy ahead of Yousuf Youhana reeks of something unfair. I think (with all due respect to Mr. Bala, and Younis Khan), I dont think this could be true! But in the same breath he does suggest that Younis will take the fall, which cant be too far from the truth. I think for one, Inzy should NEVER have gotten involved in the squabble in the first place. Needless to say Afridi was/is/and always will be one arrogant player/person, and despite his talent and will pay his dues sooner/later.

Four Indians doing the County circuit this year, which is pretty good IMHO. I fail to understand how Laxman lost out to Ganguly at the Glamorgan stakes! I always thought VVS was headed to Swansea, but suddenly out of the blue Ganguly pops-up and takes over! All the same, hope Swansea isnt an out-of-tune swansong for Saurav! I'm surprised that Mr. Bala didnt wonder about any string/rope-pulling in this case! Looks like Irfan Pathan has started out pretty well for Middlesex. Mongia too has been doing quite well for Leics. It remains to be seen whether Saurav and Bhajji make their mark.

So that's that!

What's buzzing:
Don Henley - The End of the Innocence (album)
Beatles - One (album)

Cricketing what ifs...

2005-05-28T17:30:00.000-04:00

Courtesy Amit, I was linked to a brilliant article by my favorite cricket writer, Dr. Ramachandra Guha in the Telegraph. Three out of the six scenarios he put forward struck a chord.

1. What if Duleepsinghji and the Nawab of Pataudi, Sr. played for India in the inaugural test in 1932 vs. England?
I dont know if Dr. Guha was too imaginative in conjecturing that with Duleep and the Nwab on the Indian side, we might have won that Test! But we sure had a fairly decent team, bolstered (to use a much cliched term) by the frontline attack of Amar Singh and Mohd. Nissar.
Both Duleep and Pat (as Dr. G referred to them) served Indian 'interests' in their own ways later in life, with Pat captaining the Indian team to England in 1946 (rather unsuccessfully) while Duleep served as the Indian High Commissioner in Aus and NZ.

My what if: If Amar Singh continued playing for India into his 30s (he died at a very young 29!). The Englishmen had nothing but praises to sing, when it came to Amar Singh. Len Hutton said "There is no better bowler in the world today than Amar Singh" in 1970, a couple of decades after he had faced Amar Singh first! The unforgettable quote comes from Wally Hammond, who memorably said:"he came off the pitch like the crack of doom''. Coming to conjecture time, I guess India would have been less of a punching bag for the other teams, and it would have been interesting to see a team containing Merchant, Hazare, Mushtaq Ali, Vinoo Mankad, Amar Singh, Lala Amarnath playing against Bradman's invincible Aussies.

2. What if Mushtaq Ali and Vijay Merchant had played against the Aussies in 1947-48?

I guess I went off on a tangent to this in the point above! The entire situation due to which Mushtaq Ali was unable to make the tour was sort of poignant, and reflected the times prevalent then. Though Dr. Guha's article seemed to suggest that Vijay Merchant cried off, I am sure his reasons were good and he would never have let the Indian team down.

On a personal note, Mushtaq Ali is the only cricketer from the pre-Independence era whom I have met. It was in 1993 at the Brabourne Stadium just after the Windies-SA Hero Cup game. Most of the folks hanging around the clubhouse after the game saw Sunil Gavaskar talking to this tall ramrod straight elderly gentleman (at that time I admit, I did not know who he was), and naturally went towards them hoping to get Sunny's autograph. Sunny was quite surprised, and said "Arrey, Mushtaq-saab ka autograph bhi lena!!!!". Only then did some of us realize that we were standing next to one of the greats of Indian cricket.

3. What if Ravi Shastri had become captain instead of Azhar!?
Dr. G is quite correct in saying that Raj Singh Dungarpur and his "bunch of jokers" went for the quieter man, though I suspect Azhar would still have fallen prey to the lure of mammon which would ultimately lead to his downfall. Azhar, like Cronje had everything going for him, and needlessly went and ruined his life. I always was a fan of both of them, especially Cronje, and to see them fall from the pedestal I put them on was disgusting to say the least! Cronje paid a very heavy (and unfair IMHO) price, and it remains to see what Azhar has to say. His silence says it all, despite the muted protests (there's surely more to this than what meets the eye). Selling your country's pride and honor is plain pathetic. What scares me is the possibility that other folks might be involved!

I think Shastri captained India in just one test against the Windies at Chepauk in 1987-88. Cricketing cliches aside, I'd say he has one of the most astute cricketing brains, and would have made an excellent captain, probably much better than Azhar. It was also unfortunate that he had to cut his career short at just 30!

My collection of what ifs:

What if Sidhu had not walked out on the Indian team on the England tour in 1996?
I suspect we might not have seen either Dravid/Saurav or both making their debuts....

What if Raman Lamba had played the second (??) Test of the Pakistan tour in 1988-89?
Azhar was going through a nasty patch out of form, and Raman Lamba was supposed to replace him for the Test at Faisalabad(??). For some reason (I think due to illness), Raman Lamba had to pull out and Azhar played the game and cemented his place (another cricketing cliche) with a century. (While searching for the tour index, I was thinking of the folks who made their debut on that tour, and could only think of Vivek Razdan! I had conveniently forgotten that Mr. Tendlya also made his debut on that tour!).

What if Dhruv Pandove hadnt met his end in that unfortunate accident in 1992?
Dhruv was spoken of in the same breath as Sachin Tendulkar, and met with a fatal accident in 1992 while returning from a Deodhar Trophy game. He had even broken Sachin's record for being the youngest Indian to make a first-class century. I would like to believe that he would have been a cornerstone of the Indian batting lineup today, but that probably would have meant that we might not have seen the best of Laxman/Ganguly/Dravid!

Jeez these "what ifs"....they sure have their flip sides too!

So that's that!

The longest road trip

2005-05-28T15:04:00.000-04:00

Did something I have dreamt of for a long time, the other day - driving up the 1-N, all along the coast to the Bay Area. It's one of those once-in-a-lifetime (if not more!) things one should do!

We set out a little after the rush-hour had passed, but got caught in a huge pile-up near LAX (thanks to two SUVs which banged each other and decided to settle matters on the freeway lanes itself, instead of moving onto the shoulder), which set us back by almost an hour. But it was fun, just watching the flights literally swoop right over our heads before they touched down on the runways. As always the Boeing 747s set my heart racing.

The first pit-stop was at Santa Barbara, where we took a drive through State Street (the main avenue, with all the "happening" joints), hoping to find some parking and maybe grab a bite. Unfortunately we couldnt find a decent spot, and decided to drive on and maybe grab a bite somewhere further on up the road. VR was sure impressed with State Street (Pics: Courtesy Monsieur Gabor Cselle, who has a great set of snaps on CA!)!

The stretch of the 101-N between SB and San Luis Obispo is easily one of the most boring stretches of highway (ofcourse, nothing beats the I-5!). We stopped for 'lunch' at a town called Nipomo, just beyond Santa Maria (town where the 'Man with the Fedora' or THE FREAK is standing trial). It was here that the great VR flicked a Red Bull from the gas-station! I think the folks who might have been watching on CC-tv probably were too scared to pursue the thug VR is! Ok jokes aside, he was holding the Red Bull for me while I used the can (the restroom fool!), and decided to walk out to the car for a smoke with the Red Bull in his hand.

The 101-N hits the coast at Pismo Beach, before moving in again towards San Luis Obispo. It's absolutely amazing as you approach the coast from inland. From SLO, you drive west again and hit the coast at Morro Bay, after which the drive's all along the coast.

We stopped off at a few vista points along the coast, including one beach which was full of seals sunbathing happily. There's a fair bit of excitement just pulling off the highway on a whim, right across the oncoming lane, after ensuring (ofcourse) that there wasnt any traffic around! The sheer thrill of hitting the gas, as you pull back onto the highway to continue the drive is sheer exhilaration!

Sometime in the early evening, we reached our scheduled stop-over at San Simeon, the town where we have the Hearst Castle. Built by one of the most famous millionaires in the US, William Randolph Hearst (on whom the movie Citizen Kane was based), it is one of the most imposing 'historical' structures I have seen in CA - the rest are all natural, or lack history! It's on a hill and overlooks the Pacific Ocean, which must have been a pretty awesome sight from up there (we could not go up, as the tours for the day were all over). We did however, visit the museums at the foot of the hill, which had some amazing pieces of art. How I wish I could have seen the famed Neptune Pool at the Castle!

Our next scheduled stop was Big Sur, to catch the sunset! The highway now went into the hills, and the road was pretty twisty and winding! No wonder most of the car commercials are shot here! I could imagine Raikkonen/Montoya take those curves (Note: I'm not a Tifosi!!!)! We just about made it in time, and caught some amazing snaps! It's easily one of the most mind-blowing sunsets I have seen. Standing on the cliffs, above the ocean, waves crashing against the rocks below, mist in the air, a slight nip in the air, a near-full moon rising, the orangish glow slowly turning to red, and then te afterglow once the sun had gone down below the horizon!

After that the drive up to Monterey was pretty scenic in the twilight, with hardly any traffic. We passed the exit for 17-Mile Drive, which has a few fond memories for me! Once we passed Monterey, we took the 156 to get back onto the 101. The dinner-stop was at Gilroy, where we stopped for gas. That Shell gas station must be one of the most popular ones, coz it was packed!

From there it was a straight drive to Fremont, where I dropped off VR and spent the night chatting with AN on guitaring a little more till 4am. Surprisingly the Red Bull did the trick, 'coz after driving 12h I still had a little energy left to ramble on till that unearthly hour!

It was the first time for VR, so he was pretty excited about the whole drive, and he still cant stop raving about it! I am eternally grateful to him for the entertainment and encouragement, and for the extra Red Bull! Looking forward to more trips in the near future!

V's post (with snaps) can be found here! Email me and I'll send you links to the snaps!

Unforgettable dismissals

2005-05-27T04:42:00.000-04:00

Was reading Prem Panicker's blog about Irfan Pathan and his stock delivery. Was reminded of the delivery he got Youhana with in the final ODI during the Indian tour of Pakistan in 2004. That was one unforgettable one, coz the television channel we were watching it on had replayed the previous time Irfan had got Youhana in one of the ODIs, and sure enough, within a matter of seconds Youhana was out lbw the same way! I havent seen much of Irfan's bowling, but he sure looked a lot more impressive compared to Zack!

Thought I'd put down a few dismissals which I consider unforgettable...(not necessarily in chronological order)..

Maninder Singh - lbw b. Vikram Raju/Greg Matthews..the Tied Test at Chennai..

The five catches Jonty took vs. Windies, at the Brabourne in 1993.

Roland Holder - b. Kumble (Hero Cup final, 1993)....the decision went to the 3rd umpire (Ian Robinson) referred it I think...

Border - c. Jadeja b. ??? (India vs Aus, 1992 WC. Jadeja at long-on runs a mile and dives forwards to take the catch of the WC 1992)

Basit Ali - b. Warney (the one which spun a mile from outside leg and bowled him thru his legs!)

The Klusener-Donald mix-up - vs. Aus. (WC 1999)

Aamer Sohail - b. V.Prasad (Bangalore, WC 1996)....LOL!

Chris Lewis/Allan Lamb - b. Wasim Akram (WC 1992 final)...what swingers!

Sanath Jayasuriya - c. at thirdman b. Srinath (WC 1996 SF, Eden Gardens)...The dangerman was gone, but India couldnt capitalize..as usual!

Wasim Akram - c. Dravid b. Kumble (vs. Pak, Kotla, 1999)...Ten for the man!

Hashan Tillekaratne - c. Manjrekar b. Kapil....finally....a huge relief!

GR Vishwanath - b. Imran Khan (1982-83). Amazing delivery...Vishy beaten (to use a cliched expression) 'all ends up' shouldering his arms only to see the ball crashing into the offstump!

Harbhajan's hattrick (vs. Aus, Eden Gardens, 2001)...

So that's that....

Cricket journalism - about as good as it gets

2005-05-26T19:23:00.000-04:00

Linked to Prem Panicker's cricket blog via Rahul's this morning! Must go through it sometime later this evening when I have a little more time on my hands post-dinner!

Much like Rahul wrote, I too have been a huge fan of Prem over the last few years. Both he and Faisal Sharif are/were the cornerstones of Rediff Cricket.

The other brilliant article I just read can be found here. You could almost see the match run in fast forward from the perspectives of the various players Nagraj interviewed. Absolutely fabulous writing!

PS: Have a lot to blog about, but kinda short on time!

The Lennon FBI files...

2005-05-24T23:23:00.000-04:00

Happened to glance through the latest issue of the weekly college newspaper and found that there was a seminar this evening by Dr. Jon Wiener. Dr. Wiener is a professor of history here at UCI, and I had read about him recently, and his efforts at getting the FBI files on John Lennon released to the public under the Freedom of Information Act.
It was an interesting evening, filled with a lot of amusement (and Beatles music). Some of the things the FBI considered classified (and Dr. Wiener had to go thru court to get them released to the public) was quite amusing. The classic case being:

"John Lennon is a British citizen and ____ of the Beatles singing group"

It was interesting to learn so much more about Lennon. I didnt know that he split with Yoko for a year in the mid-70s and came down to LA and lived the life of an "over-the-hill singer" (in Dr. Wiener's own words). Thankfully he got back with Yoko within a year and released some of his best music. But then the music died on December 8th 1980!

Which brings me to the my love-hate relationship with Lennon. The Beatles are among my favorite bands (the others being Dire Straits, U2, Floyd, Fleetwood Mac and the Eagles). I just feel sorry that they split up in the early 70s, with so much of music still unwritten. I would probably lay the blame squarely on Ms. Ono, but then I guess everyone was equally responsible, as I guess each one needed a little space. Maybe it's just that I thought McCartney was a better, and happier dude compared to Lennon. Musicwise I'd say Lennon was aeons ahead of McCartney, but have realized this only in the last few years having Lennon's solo stuff a good spin in my CD player! Overall, the sheer class of every Beatle shines through in their solo stuff - Ringo Starr included! I saw the "Concert for George" a year ago on DVD, and it was one of the most amazing concerts I have seen - the way they started out "While my guitar gently weeps" still echoes in my head and I can envision Clapton and George's son Dhani playing the leads.

(Pink) Floyd was basically Waters and Gilmour. As always, I always supported Gilmour, coz Waters was the dude who broke the band....but then having listened to Waters' solo stuff, I would tend to say he was/is light years ahead of Gilmour talent-wise and otherwise. But then, "Division Bell" was one of the best (Pink) Floyd CDs I have heard.

I guess the debate will never really end...probably even after they move on to elysian fields!

So that's that!

Unforgettable....

2005-05-18T11:12:00.000-04:00

The stage goes all dark....
The man in black crouches on the ground....
A small beam of light focused on him....
Slow and steady......
As the first familiar notes play, the crowd break out into a cheer....
They're flying in a blue dream.....