150 years on...Lest we forget!

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

Raagas and Hindi Songs

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

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!

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

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...

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....

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

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!

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"?!

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

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

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...

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

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

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"..

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...

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

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...

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....

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....