Shaken and Stirred

In love with Love

2012-02-15T22:46:00.001+05:30

Love. It can be fulfilling and frustrating at the same time. Something you wish you had never encountered and yet can't wait till it strikes again. Setting aside all the cliches about the melodrama love entails, it is quite evident that it does not follow the dictum - once bitten twice shy.

It is quite possible for a person to hesitate to confess to the quickening of the pulse and the general debilitation of the central nervous system at the mere sight of another after faltering at a similar endeavour earlier. But, that does not imply the absence of all and any falling victim to the vicissitudes of the villainy of the vain heart, which causes pain not just to itself but to the gullible host as well.

Love is the phenomenon that thrives in adversity. This fact is well documented. You give it war, inter-religion rivalry, societal mores and it will find a way to thwart the odds. But at an individual's level, it shows this fickle nature by springing its cupid head when you least expect it. It mocks at our plans and our 'understanding' of the universe. It can't be explained, predicted, controlled or extinguished. It is the sledgehammer to the nutty idea that is determinism.

The scientist or rationalist still seeks to comprehend its ways and many visages, through experiments in psychology or capturing the causative genes or detecting electrical impulses in the brain. The romantics however try to be one with it by picking up the pen, brush or guitar.

But, I just want to be a test subject to the experiment that is love. I lie restlessly in wait for the emotional roller coaster that it promises, testing my capacity as a rational being trying to ascertain its nature, to be sure of its ways and then be debunked not long after, to ascend the insurmountable, to grasp the unfathomable, to experience what civilization is no closer to understanding - much less control - since its very conception.

I am in love with love itself. But alas, it seldom comes to those who seek it.

Barberity

2011-12-31T01:52:00.000+05:30

I tried the hair saloon once. What I mean by that is that I went to the expensive, air-conditioned Britney-Spears-playing stylists as opposed to my regular round-the-corner barber. This was after I came back from France and my long, flowing European tresses were getting stripped away by the minute in the heat and dust of India. As it had been more than eight months since my previous haircut, I was willing to experiment. Besides, there was the little matter of the 50% off coupons in my possession.

I was turned away at first when I reached there since I had not taken an appointment beforehand! Not one to get the hint fate was giving me in the form of the rejection, I scheduled my coiffure at a convenient hour.

At the anointed hour, the first thing I noticed in the saloon was that I was the only male customer there. Of course, there was no dearth of spiky-haired, booted-up, covered in body art, men in black stylists that were present. Once in the hot seat, I got the sales pitch about how so many things are wrong with my hair and how the tattooed, cowboy-shoe-heeled punk had all the solutions. Pun intended. But, since I have been mentally preparing myself for going bald any day now, the impact of his doomsday speech was minimal. After his 10 minute monologue came my polite "No, thank you. Just the haircut please".

Five minutes into watching my hair fall off in bigger chunks than I had experienced during my worst nightmares of going bald, I was in a self-congratulatory mood. Surely, no bald guy can have this much hair!! One never knows how much hair one has on one's head till it has been cut off. I mean the hair, of course.

It dawned on me quite belatedly (since I was still smug with self-satisfaction) that the punk is as limited in his ability to cut hair as he is in his fashion sense. After stressing I did NOT want spikes, despite his protests, I told him I would like hair slightly short. Long enough to be combed. Now as I looked at myself in the mirror, I could see my smug look dissolving into one of resigned fury. The hair was so short that no amount of combing would bring it down. And hence was born mon mohawk.

I have never been tempted by those hair saloons again.

Test Championship

2010-09-07T22:47:00.004+05:30

Till about a month back, the question on everyone's minds was "How do we make the Tests less boring?". Of course, that was until it was revealed that the most fervent followers of the game - the bookies - like Test Cricket the best as they make the most money from it! Well, at least someone does...

Test cricket is always termed by most players - former, current and currently suspended - as the pinnacle of cricket, the ultimate test of your abilities on the field. With the exception of Chris Gayle, who was then blasted for such blasphemy. Drawing on my years of playing test cricket, (our own street test cricket version where hitting a six was considered out, to ensure more measured play) I can empathise with that opinion.

But, my views as a discerning observer of the more commonly known form of test cricket will be suitable for the purposes of this post.

Professional sport, after all, is a microcosm of life itself. Grown men and women try their best to out-do one another while staying within the boundaries and rules agreed upon by the sporting society. The advantage being that while your greatest of victories in life may go unnoticed by the vast majority, in sport your smallest of losses is likely to be put under the microscope. If you call that an advantage.

But, for me, test cricket comes the closest to simulating the vagaries of life within itself. The great test matches in history have had the glorious uncertainities - from the sudden change in behaviour of the pitch on the third day afternoon session leading to a collapse, deadly spell of reverse swing bolwing turning the match, dropped catches rued for days, debatable umpires' decisions, players having lively chats about each others wives, girlfriends, mothers, sisters, etc - spread over five days swing fortunes from one end to another, with the potential for an action packed Bollywood spice fest with a climax to match.

I admit some matches can get boring. But then, so can life.

Test cricket is definitely not a shot of adrenalin for the masses like T20. Its taste is for the cultivated, the nuanced. For those who read between the deliveries, check for body language, ponder over strategy while the rest of the world just waits for the end of the day score. It is a sport where you can safely drift off into a world of your own, debate about the pros and cons of each move, without missing out on any action. It even gives you ample opportunity between overs, during drinks, lunch and tea breaks to have refreshing conversations about things other than the game. I may have taken it too far by thinking it is an ideal setting for a first date, but you get the point.

So, after this rather test match type detour, I shall come to the point I was making. Martin Crowe had an idea a month ago about a revamped Test Championship. I liked this idea far lesser than his only other idea - that of using a spinner as an opening bowler in an ODI. Though my response in Cricinfo's comments section was one of reflex. But upon reflection, I have realized it was the danger it posed to my beloved nuances of the game that really set me off. Anyway, here is my response:

I don't agree with Crowe.

1. The one-off contests can't replicate the beauty of a test series - a true test of mettle
2. The lop sided nature of the draw will give no incentive for the home-team to prepare sporting pitches. Incentive is works better than rules :P
3. Viewership will decline as a result of one-sided tests - most likely draws.
4. Only seven tests??!! and you are world champion??
It sounds increasingly like a patchwork formula made on the back of a tissue.. :P His ideas seem to pander to everything that is wrong with test cricket right now and gift wrap it into a short-term solution

My suggestion:
Emulate the football league formats (Premier and Championship), or even the Indian domestic Cricket Leagues (Ranji and Plate)
1. Split the teams into two groups of 5 based on current ranking - say 'Champions' and 'Challengers'
2. The 'Champions' will play a home and away tour of 3/5 tests each home and away during a two year period. Same for the 'Challengers'. Considering each series takes 2 months (for 5 tests) you have 16 months of test cricket. Still leaves enough time for T20s, ODIs.
3. The points system will be based on the hierarchy - Test Wins, Test draws, Away wins, Away draws, Runs scored etc to split the teams, if required
4. The bottom 2 teams from the 'Champions' and the top 2 teams from the 'Challengers' will trade places at the end of every two years
This will create a lot of test cricket and make it more competitive. The teams will be more evenly matched, and over a long tour will have opportunities to make come-backs.

Adi-vice

2010-05-30T02:01:00.041+05:30

My mind rebels at stagnation. Give me problems... I abhor the dull routine of existence. I crave for mental exaltation - Sherlock Holmes

Though, of late, I have been feeling that my mind rather revels in stagnation. After all, this post is a result of such an endeavour. I let you decide. Here is something for the exalted minds.

I seem to have a special talent in dishing out advice to people. They seek me from far and wide to gain my valuable insights into their eccentric little problems. And, in spite of having little knowledge on the matter, I always seem to be able to give reasonable and sound Plans of Action all the same.

Ashish was spending his summer vacations in the honourable regimen of updating his Facebook status message and wondering which Barcelona shirt he wants his brother to get for him from Europe. When tired of that, he would watch some mind numbing Bollywood movies to help forget the oppressive heat.

While watching one of the said movies, he got a brainwave. (Quite rare for the likes of him. Rarer still for someone watching such cinematic catastrophies) Why does he not write a movie script? But, he didn't know where to begin. Meanwhile, the plot he wanted to write about started exploding in his head.

In wild panic, he gave a call to his brother - the guy who prides himself in solving such irregular problems. Aditya had been particularly frustrated at work of late. He received the call with as much enthusiasm as an out of form Indian batsman would facing the Bangladesh attack.

After letting to his brother puke out his ideas for the script – while endeavouring to show professionalism by sniggering silently – Aditya came up with a solution immediately. As if he was born just for this.

He began by appreciating his brother's creativity.

"What you have got now is pulp. Sort of like tomato puree, if you will. What you need now is structure, a process. A well defined step by step recipe which uses your tomato puree to make delicious gravy."

Aditya realized he got a little carried away by the professional conduct and terminology. So, he came to the point.

"Start by splitting your pulp into scenes. Think of the most important scene in your script. Write down the names and nature of the characters in the scene. Choose an appropriate setting for it – the place and the time of day, the year. Write down what happens in the scene without dialogues. Do the same for all other scenes. Now connect characters, settings of different scenes. They could be the same characters or their relatives. It could be the same setting but in the past or future. Connect some settings to some famous event in history/news. Start writing dialogues.”

Ashish felt rejuvenated, clear headed. As Aditya's clients always do after having a session with him.

Aditya felt masterful, majestic. As he always does after he is done with his clients.

Ashish would do alright, he thought. After all, he could certainly do better than the buggers he was watching. The only problem was his inspiration were the same buggers.

"It is indeed a pity that the success of my gift can never be actually measured, since most of the recipients choose to ignorantly ignore it. This unfortunate course of action only causes these lesser mortals more suffering”, thought Aditya ruefully expressing his humble opinion to himself.

The worst vice is advice

Vanity is my favourite sin

Al Pacino as the devil in The Devil's Advocate

A Rhetorical Retort

2010-04-27T23:55:00.020+05:30

The Supreme Court of India recently threw out petitions seeking legal prohibitions on the "immorality" involved in pre-marital sex and live-in relationships. While the honorable Court refused to delve into the moral aspects and summarily discarded with the petitions on legal grounds, an article in The Hindu - the mouthpiece of the Indian intelligentsia argued how such a legal judgment could serve to encourage the misguided youth from trying more such "experiments".

I took it upon myself to argue (as is my wont) back. Here is a copy of the article I sent as an entry to the newspaper:

Aligning the alien
I count myself as one of the youth of today. And though I am not an aggressive proponent for pre-marital sex or live-in relationships, I was shaken enough to write this response.
The author has clearly misunderstood the raison d’etre of live-in relationships. They are not quite the seed of convenience as much as cynicism. In fact, it may well be countered that marriage is the epitome of convenience. It suits the families, who get together and control the future of their young; the prospective groom, who chooses his bride with careful scrutiny and seeks payment for the efforts; the bride, who is promised all the comforts and security while she can help propagate the progeny of her hard-at-work husband. It works great for the rest of the society too as they have a gala event with customary lunches and parties to boot. It seems not a coincidence that the phrase ‘marriage of convenience’ was coined so.
Marriage is not a perfect system. Neither are live-in relationships. Both can cause anguish and pain with moments of happiness. Both need a lot of effort to be put in. To trivialize live-in relationships – a reality in today’s India – will alienate more than align the youth to society’s views as the author puts them. The hesitation to take the “plunge” - a lexical faux pas - is not as unfathomable as we are led to believe. While I don’t pretend to have personal experience to draw on, I can certainly take a shot at painting a probable picture.
In an expansively expanding economic frontier, youth of today increasingly find themselves torn off from homes and working in an alien city. Being humans, they crave care and companionship to combat loneliness; but not at the cost of their fledgling careers. Marriage brings with it pressures from society that become a burden for the ambitious. Relationships based on mutual trust, respect and support ensue. They might not always finish in ‘happily ever after’, but such endings are rather limited to the silver screen or children’s fables; certainly by no means ensured by marriage. With the ever increasing rate of divorces and unhappy marriages, can you blame a touch of cynicism sneaking in?
On the question of pre-marital sex, I find the article to be entirely misleading. Maybe I missed something in my biology class, but in what sense can sex between consenting adults be termed “extremely dangerous”? Assuming the use of standard conventions for protection, one can rule out the possibility of sexually transmitted diseases. Unwanted pregnancies are avoidable and I hope I do not need to remind the readers of the multiple options available.
On a purely dialectical basis, the Indian society’s view-point on pre-marital sex can be argued as a little hypocritical. If the matching of castes and horoscopes is so important to ensure the harmonious co-habitation of the couple, then why is sexual compatibility – a tangibly more critical element – ignored? Besides, the concept of treating sex as a dark shameful secret is historically puritanical and is rooted in the medieval cultures coming from the west. Many façades on ancient Indian temples bear testimony to this theory.
It is not my intention to suggest pre-marital sex to all couples who are getting married, or give prescriptions of live-in relationships to depressed urban youth. There is a certain magic marriage and (sometimes blind) commitment brings in its wake. It’s the pinnacle of human relationship, based on faith and mutual trust that continues to cast its spell on youth across the world. Deviation from this tread path does not bother me. But my soul shudders at the society which seeks ‘endorsement’ from the self appointed guardians for every deviant opinion or lifestyle.
I grant every society has certain rules, certain practices unique to it - together with its guardians who vigorously protect them and the rebels who zealously revolt against them. The co-habitation of these two groups is essential for the health and growth of society. Through the ages, decadence set in when the balance was disturbed. A mature and strong society recognizes a dissenting voice as a possible carrier of change to be nurtured, not a harbinger of doom to demonize.

The article was not selected for publication. The one that was, was a fitting enough reply but not quite hard-hitting as I would like.

Another interesting retort to read: What NOT to do on Valentine's Day
And an article on youth issues: Gandhigiri is irrelevant for GenNext

Sherlock Holmes Jr.

2010-03-20T20:37:00.018+05:30

Since I posted my last one on movies a while back (seems like a lifetime back), I thought I should put up another post on a movie. At least, it will give an illusion of continuity. Just like the earlier one, I do not pretend that its a critical analysis of the movie. Its more of an outpouring of my feelings after watching it - more emotional than rational, which is ironic since the protagonist is one of the most rational men ever lived (in fiction, of course).

Sherlock Holmes

Cast: Robert Downey Jr, Jude Law

Director: Guy Ritchie

My mind rebels at stagnation.

The familiar feeling of fascination swept over me as I watched the adaptation of Sherlock Holmes, played more than ably by the dry wit of Robert Downey Jr.

In all his roles, Downey Jr takes a rather deep interest of the character. Some say a little too deep. In fact, his role as the award winning, always-in-character actor in the laugh riot Tropic Thunder was suggested to the director, Ben Stiller by Downey Jr’s own personality. Even Jeff Bridges, while talking on an interview about Iron Man mentions how Downey Jr and the director used to make up the dialogues on the sets at their whim and fancy.

But, in Sherlock Holmes, he surpasses himself. Maybe, greater credit must go to the casting director as Downey Jr was a perfect choice. His obsession with his profession is remarkably similar to Holmes’ approach to his.

Of course there are other things too that struck me while watching the movie and made me see it not just as an adaptation of the greatest detective ever penned.

The most popular Holmes novel by Arthur Conan Doyle was, inarguably, The Hound of Baskervilles. Doyle could never quite re-create the magic before or after that singularly fascinating novel. While the other stories attracted the minds rather rationally revering the robotic reasoning of Holmes, they lacked the aura of the supernatural that the Hound put on the menu for the otherwise palatable.

This is where, Sherlock Holmes-The movie, played a master stroke. There was enough of the devious dark arts and end of days thrown about woven with the precise logical mind of Holmes, the beauty and mind of Irene Adler, the devotion of Watson that has made the age-old detective series into today's blockbuster.

There were subtexts too for the ardent movie watcher (for the more trained eye, as Holmes would say) The talk of using fear as means of ruling over people and wielding the ultimate power can be used ad pedem litterae in a Michael Moore documentary. Add to that the chemical weapons being used, the association to the modern world is complete.

There are other aspects which really make it a fascinating watch. The obvious and unbridled envy of Holmes towards Mary Morston and his bag of tricks to avoid losing Watson; Holmes fascination for the only woman who bettered him; the some might call excessive violence (but with a typical Holmes tinge to it)

Going off the script, maybe. But, there was nothing in the movie that degraded the original Sherlock Holmes. It was created as a commercial film so that Holmes gets a wider audience in today’s world. I think it succeeded by quite a margin. After all, where Guy Ritchie is involved, one can expect a bit of violence, I suppose.

RAGe

2009-05-21T19:16:00.005+05:30

I plan to re-vitalize the underground movie club I helped set up in my company this January. RAGe (Roshan, Aravind/Aditya, Glenn entertainment) provided an excel sheet with the movies set for 'release' every Friday. The sheet had details about the movies like the running time, size, quality, parental guidance (eg- Naomi Watts goes nude 45 minutes into the movie, so be sure to shoo your parents away round about that time), awards or nominations won. There was also a link to a one-page review of each movie we covered.

RAGe started off really well, but lost steam as time wore on. The company's annual day, pressure at work, lack of feedback and appreciation for our work were the chief culprits.

Reproduced below is the first review I wrote for RAGe. Its on one of my favourite movies, Thank You for Smoking:

Thank You for Smoking

Cast: Aaron Eckhart, Katie Holmes
Director: Jason Reitman
Review: Aditya Changavalli

Don’t hide the truth, just filter it.

I’ve got a confession to make. I absolutely love to argue. Nothing brings me out of the dull stupor of daily existence as a nice, long, pointless argument whose result is as non-consequential as its subject. I chose ‘Thank you for Smoking’ as it’s as much about smoking as about the arguments surrounding it. The central character actually makes a living out of his penchant for sparring with words.

I should probably warn you though - it is not your typical movie, with a love story and some action sequences thrown in around a loose plot. No movies I select are going to be like that. There is no love story. No action. It’s a wonderful rendering of innovative story-telling.

The plot revolves around Nick Naylor (Aaron Eckhart), a guy who ‘pays his mortgage’ by talking. He is a ‘lobbyist’ (a Public Relations guy) for the tobacco companies. He hops from one News channel studio to another ‘to defend the defenseless’, as he calls it. His rationale will be familiar to those who watched The Dark Knight: “If you are good at something, never do it for free”. Yes, Nick Naylor is good at his job. In fact, he is so good at ‘spin control’ that he has the anti-smoking campaigners running for cover at every live TV encounter.

As the movie canters along, the director manages to expose not only the unabashed greed of the cigarette makers, but also the self-serving and publicity-seeking politicians, the ‘art’ of product placement and the under-the-covers brand of journalism – without ever getting didactic. Slip in a sprinkling of a blossoming father-son relationship, and the picture is complete. The twist in the tale comes with Nick, just when he looks like he can never lose, loses his job and, nearly his life. Here, the exchange between Nick and his son is worth going through the movie for, if nothing else.

The climax is a Congressional hearing and the ‘happy’ ending is one that you don’t often get to see.

Watch ‘Thank You for Smoking’ for its ability to convey serious issues through light-hearted and refreshingly direct treatment hardly witnessed in the world of cinema. Watch it for the dialogues and the clever play of words used. Watch it for the sub-text and subliminal messages that it sends out through suggestive scenes. (There’s one where Nick and his friends - PR for guns and alcohol - are all having a ‘piece’ of a pie with an American flag sticking out of the middle) Watch it for the director’s amazing ability to use the smoke-screen of tobacco to paint a masterpiece portraying the dynamics of human relationships and glimpses of what goes on behind the scenes in the corridors of power.

What NOT to do this Valentine's Day

2009-02-14T22:06:00.021+05:30

An expert is a person who has made all the mistakes that can be made in a very narrow field.
- Niels Bohr

I consider myself an expert in matters of the heart. I have given loads of people advice in all kinds of different situations. It’s another matter that most of them never actually used my advice, so there is no way of knowing how effective it is. But, I have surely made all the mistakes that can be made (and some more) in this not-so-narrow field. I will not bore you with the common amateur mistakes. Here is an example of me going overboard with the ‘being different’ mantra. I bet you never thought of this way to court a girl’s attentions.

A few Valentine’s days back, I sent a mail to a friend I had a crush on and wanted to impress after an evening walk with her.

Hi,

As we were talking the other evening, you mentioned how guys are essentially the ‘same’; in the sense that ALL of them view girls as sex objects. When I heard it, I had trouble accepting it. So, I decided to ask some of my friends.

ALL guys accepted, without any sense of shame, that when they looked at a girl, they did ‘a quick overview of her physical characteristics’. But all of them decried it being characterised as ‘objectifying’, the common refrain being that it is a ‘natural instinct’. So, I guess you were right. Guys do ‘objectify’ girls in some sense of the term. There was none - including those who have never watched any kind of pornography - who said he looked for the girl’s personality before the appearance. All our ‘reasons’ for this behaviour can be easily seen as superficial justifications.

But is this behaviour so unacceptably profane?

Is there no difference between how a common lewd man in the bus stop stares unabashedly or passes comments, and how decent (if I might use the word, for the lack of any other adjective) guys who just size up a member of the opposite sex in a quick, if not furtive, glance? If you actually feel that even the glance is obscene, we all feel you have got it all wrong. Being the fairer sex, it is quite natural for you to be gauged on your ‘fairness’. Arguing with this logic leaves no common meeting point.

All of us have outspoken contempt for the vulgar looks or snide comments that you have to endure, day in and out. If you can trust me on this, none of the guys I know of does it or even defends those engaging in it. But, to paint all men as vulgar is to miss the fine line separating us from them. It indeed appears as if most men do it. But, that perception is purely because extreme behaviour always gets noticed. How would you feel if we characterised all girls as superficial and supercilious? It is a common perception here in the hostel. But we understand it cannot be a generalisation.

How is viewing girls as purely sex objects any different from your prejudice against all men? Both thoughts stem from the complete non-comprehension of the other gender’s psyche. If we can try and comprehend the problems you face, I think it is not difficult for your Machiavellian intellect to understand our just aspersions for being quashed between a vulgar majority of male chauvinists and the feminist ideologue.

Please, not all of us are like that. All of my friends agreed that though ‘checking out’ precedes anything else, it is a prelude for us, not at all THE most important aspect. It is true, even if you do not believe it. We are not as narrow-minded as that.

Not the typical Valentine’s Day mail, I know. But keeping in mind the efforts of Saint Valentine, I think it is essential for both guys and prejudiced and disgruntled girls to discuss such issues together, rather than in their respective bastions. Be it the boy’s hostel or Gargi College.

I was so proud of my effort, that I sat back and admired it for a few minutes before pressing the send button. I imagined how guys all over the world will applaud the sentiment expressed in such an eloquent fashion. I was sure the girl in question will be struck by my clarity of thought and quality of expression.

Needless to say, the two of us never got together.

The Sutra to the Perfect Gift

2009-01-30T19:12:00.012+05:30

Glenn had his birthday coming up. I called up everyone to seek ideas for an appropriate gift. In vain. "He has everything!" was one exasperated opinion. Some thought out of the box and came up with really practical gifts like skate-boards. I gave up and went straight to the mall with Arjun, hoping to spot something.

At the mall, we hacked around for the 'right' gift. Although books were ruled out initially, we gravitated to the book store as a last resort. After sifting through countless books, we were still clueless.

I had quite a reputation to maintain in office. After buying many 'right' gifts, I could not afford to lose the plot now.

While selecting a gift, there are three things I look for:

- Would s/he like it?

- Would it be a talking point?

- Would it cost within 800 bucks (our usual budget)?

So I sat down and went back to the basics. What would Glenn like? What would all men like? Well, that wasn't a possible gift. So, what else? While I was thinking aloud, Arjun came up with the clincher - Kama Sutra!!

Now, we could have sought the help of the store-keeper but thought it will be more fun to try to find it ourselves. We had no clue how difficult it was going to get.

First, I tried the Indian Fiction section. It was the closest and it was possible that some idiot put it there, considering it is 'Indian' after all, if not exactly fiction.

Right next to it, was the Indian Performing Arts section. Surely, it should have been here. That would have been most appropriate. I mean no collection on performing arts will be complete without a guide to the art of performing THE act.

It wasn't there in the Science section either. This really disappointed me as I had always approached the subject as a Science with a lot of theory but little practice.

After going through the Reference section (without success), I went to the Graphic Novels. Since I had seen 'Kama Sutra' titled books before, I was sure they indeed fit the description of being 'Graphic'.

Coming to the Self-Improvement section, I was reminded of an India Today cover page article on how a vast number of marriages break down due to problems in the bedroom. But I guess the store-owner had not read it and did not deem it necessary to delve into self-exploration and improvement.

Finally, I found it in the Health and Fitness section. This really pissed me off. I mean Kama Sutra has nothing directly to do with either Health or Fitness. If it was put under a category with such flimsy logic, it could have easily been under any of the other sections I looked at!

Anyway, Glenn was pretty pleased with the gift and he has agreed to have a knowledge transfer session soon.

PS - Arjun and I have announced voluntary retirement from picking any more birthday gifts. We shall offer our opinion purely as consultants and on a case-to-case basis. We wanted to hang up the ribbons on a high

Happy New Year*

2009-01-18T10:07:00.003+05:30

January 1, 2009 Midnight

I could not think of starting the New Year in any other way. I am not a great fan of New Year celebrations – my rational mind tells me it’s just like another day, with a fancy name. But, maybe it’s important for the populace to give hope for a new prosperous year. Its almost like people believe a mere increment in the date will get rid of the soiled baggage of the past. I empathize with them. It may not be logical but its about hope and getting motivated. Starting over.

Of course, it’s no surprise that most people live in continuity from the previous year and little changes. But the New Year’s frolic provides, apart from windfalls to the cellular and greeting card companies, a push against inertia.

Hope is particularly relevant this year, with recession at a global scale ominous in its imminence, diminishing savings, nose-diving investment and impeding the relentless ‘progress’ of human endeavour. Jobs are not secure, banks are not secure. So life, as we know it, is not secure.

The New Year also brings Barack Obama to the White House. The whole world waits for him to ‘waive’ his wand for all problems to disappear. Wonder what he can do for my love life.

*from my journal

Google's Adi-sense

2008-11-03T19:41:00.015+05:30

All of you must be familiar Google's AdSense - an advertisement application. The Wikipedia article says:

AdSense has become a popular method of placing advertising on a website because the advertisements are less intrusive* than most banners.

I beg to differ. In a recent correspondence I had with a friend over Gmail, I was shocked to notice that the first sponsored link on the right was

Dumped?
Instant relief to break-up pain and fastest plan to get your ex back
GetYourExBackNow.com

Now, I think, I must confess that the 'friend' was a one-time (and a long-time) crush of mine. Nothing more, unfortunately. But how the hell did Google know that? Nothing in the mail itself suggests anything on those lines. Unless the mere presence of words like - 'arrogance, incompetence.... dick.... bitch' - imply a broken-up relationship.

Even though the mail was not exaclty from an ex of mine, but i wonder what kind of key words sparks the AdWords program to show a link to GetYourExBackNow.com

*emphasis added

Feedback

2008-08-08T19:09:00.006+05:30

Going ahead with my penchant for adapting management principles in life outside the corporate world, my next source of inspiration are feedback forms. To the uninitiated, they are a medium for gauging and improving standards in any organization. Actually, it’s a questionnaire that one has to fill after attending each training session with child-like questions. After filling as many as I have, you run out of new and innovative adjectives to describe the dull and dreary set of questions.

Imagine their utility in relationships. A sample form might go like this :

Relationship evaluation form

Name of participant:
Type of relationship:
Length of relationship:

For those currently in a relationship:

What aspects of the relationship do you find most useful?

What aspects of the relationship are least helpful to you and why? (if any)

What were your objectives when beginning the relationship?

To what extent have they been fulfilled?

Suggestions/ideas for improvement

For those exiting a relationship:

What aspects of the relationship did you find most useful and why? (if any)

What aspects of the relationship are least helpful to you?

What were your expectations when beginning the relationship?

To what extent have you been disappointed?

How do you plan to operationalise the learning in the next six months?

Suggestions/ideas for improvement

* Feedback on this post is welcome !!

Guidelines to find a partner

2008-07-20T18:45:00.006+05:30

I was reading Jack Welch's book Winning, Welch is ex-CEO with General Electric and has 40 plus years of experience in managing people. I have always thought management principles could be applied to real life as well. So from his chapter on 'Hiring the right people', I conceived and adapted my own guidelines to 'Finding the right girl':

Test for Integrity

People with integrity tell the truth. They keep their word. They take responsibility for past actions, admit mistakes and give their best to fix them. Now there is no fool-proof way of testing integrity and hence your gut instinct is very important. More on instinct later.

Look for Intelligence

Intelligence need not mean her educational qualifications. She should be able to hold your attention with her words, with an uncanny ability to surprise you and force you to alter your previous judgments about her. Education is just part of the pie, not the whole.

Does she show Maturity?

As Welch says, "Mature people have a good sense of humor, especially about themselves"

Is she Authentic?

She knows what she is good at and who she is not. The 'realness' shows in the way she communicates. There is no phoniness, no trying to be cooler, prettier, sexier, or in more control than she actually is.

Does she value Candor?

If she does not like something you did, she should be able to give it straight between your eyes. No holding back. No bullshit like long periods of not talking to you when you don't even know what went wrong. At the same time, if she likes something appreciation should be ready and unreserved. While Welch advocates monetary perks, I suggest something more 'physical' in nature.

Is she an epitome of Resilience?

If she has faced some extreme hardships in the past, she will be more appreciative of your love and affection - instead of always seeking more. Generally, people who have had more than their share of suffering and can still retain a smile on their face are great to hang out with.

Of course each of us will have our own unique parameters based on which we make the decision. The above points are aids to decision making, not intended as quantifiable values that the girl must have. They can be equally applicable to guys.

The different values mentioned need to be looked for at different stages of your initial salvos. While Authenticity and Maturity can be very visible to the keen eye at the very beginning, one might get to know about Resilience and Integrity only later.

When in front of an attentive attractive woman, reason might fail you. But your instinct will not. Instinct is nothing but pattern recognition developed through experience. If you don't act on it, all your past experience is worthless. If your gut tells you she's comfortably lying, or faking, or hiding, get out immediately. Stop waiting for more data or proof.

So even though I have given some general pointers, Instinct is paramount. Nourish it and use it.

Break-up fever

2008-06-08T02:52:00.010+05:30

3rd May 2008 Saturday 2130 hrs

I am running a temperature of 101F degrees. My brother says he's got a 100.5 himself. Of course he's lying. There is no way he could still be that active. Though come to think of it, I had fever on and off throughout the day and I hardly took any rest. Fever always has this weird way of giving an illusion of recovery before it returns with redoubled vigour.

Its been a while since I had such a 'high' fever. Whenever I felt feverish, nothing I did would convince the thermometer to go beyond a 100. So today I looked at it with dull self-congratulation as the mercury rose to a 100.9. I'm calling it a 101, I don't care.

I always aimed high as a kid. When my mother would put the stick in my mouth I would pray that the temperature be above 105. At least. All the other kids had had malaria and hay fever. Compared to them, my health chart seemed to be bereft of any excitement. Clearly, I was fiercely competitive as well. Now with time, and better sense (lesser imagination), the target has come down to a lowly 100.

I have been thinking (during the more contemplative and languid phases of my illness) of a break up. Its always a tough ask. My principle is to do it face to face. The idea being - if you can't tell her to the face, 'I don't want to go out with you anymore,' there is still hope. But a logical idea is hardly ever the correct one when it comes to relationships. It can go terribly wrong.

One thing I cannot stand is a girl crying. I am a picture of utter discomfort and helplessness. The break up can cause a break-down which can avalanche into a melt-down of the illogical heart.

But picturing it in your my own head, it can be cool-personified:

A: 'Hi! Long time... You must have been really busy. Hardly answered any of my calls'
P: 'Yeah.. you know I was just home lazing around. Didn't feel like putting in the effort to move my thumb to answer them'
A: 'Well that happens. A month into a relationship... '
P: 'Pity though.. you were really hot and romantic'
A: 'Hey, I still am! Let all your friends know about that'
P: 'Sure will'
A: 'Hey, can I have my DVD back?'.....

The fever lasted for 3 weeks, one of which I spent in hospital. It was diagnosed and treated as Typhoid. But none of the tests ever came out positive

Of Culture differences and Insults

2008-01-30T21:03:00.000+05:30

Since I am a native of Andhra Pradesh, I know a bit of Telugu. Having stayed in Delhi all my life, I come across people from all kinds of cultural backgrounds: Punjabi, Gujarati, Bengali, Oriya, Tamil, Malayali, etc. When I was in primary school, it was a fun passtime of some of us to learn words of the other's native language. Keshav was a particularly keen one. He had not only learnt counting to ten in Tamil, but also in French and used to flaunt his superior knowledge to all the rest of us jealous beings. There were many Hindi speaking friends of mine who wanted to learn how to say 'Hi' or 'Thank You' in Telugu. Nighi (Punjabi) – who was my neighbor new the Telugu word for 'water' when she was 3.

But that was when all of us were little. Now everyone wants to know how to swear in a language foriegn to theirs. Though I get a lot of requests to learn curses in Telugu, I can do little to help out. As I learnt all my Telugu from my parents, I had little to go about. And this was a handicap that left me disappointed in my knowledge of 'my people' several times.

It gives you an unreasonable pleasure if you can curse in other's languages. There is also the occasional multiple meanings to the same phrase heard by people of different cultural backgrounds, causing much amusement.

Shitiz (from Rajasthan) did a part of his schooling in Hyderabad. A few of his classmates – who were also from a Hindi background – latched on to the Telugu word 'Randi' (meaning 'Please come in' in Telugu and 'whore' in Hindi) and used it to beckon their teachers: “Madam Randi... Madam Randi...” to raucous laughter. Of course the teachers had no clue what was going on.

Someone, on his trip abroad, met a girl called Marit. Though there is not much of a literal double meaning in Hindi, it had enough for any hostel dwelling Engineering student to crack up at the name and repeat it just for kicks. Typically and inevitably ungracious remarks like, "So, did you 'Maar-it'?" followed by chuckling became the norm.

When in a dull mood, one can remember the current UN Secretary general. Not that he's an inspiring figure or anything. In fact, I have on good authority (my father) that he's the dullest chap to head that dull institution. But his name is Ban Ki Moon. Now, if you don't know why its amusing, then I suggest you ask Debasish, who uses this name as his pet swear word.

Of course, all such cultural faux pas don't end up in general amusement. Take, for example, the recent controversy involving Harbhajan and Symonds over racist remarks. Symonds saw Bhajji tap his bat on Brett Lee's back, and immediately unloaded some foul Aussie abuse on him. Bhajji reacted with his own native curses starting off with a “Teri Maan Ki...”. Unfortunately, due to Bhajji's Punjabi accent, Teri was reduced to Tree, and Maanki coming together was heard by Symonds as 'Tree Monkey'.

Now that was clearly a racist slur. Though both Harbhajan and Symonds have monkeys as ancestors, Harbhajan's remark was thought to have implied connotations to Symonds' tree-dwelling forefathers as opposed to Bhajji's more sophisticated ground dwelling ones.

I blame Sachin for the whole misunderstanding. He should have called a Press Conference to assure us that all Bhajji said was 'Teri Maan Ki'. This he did not do, as he had too much respect for the mothers of the press fraternity. Of course things would have been different if it had been Sourav.

*Clarification: 'Someone' does not agree with whatever has been written and claims they are 'lies and offensive'. While I do not pretend that everything I write on my blog is true, I do not intend to offend anyone either. My sincerest and unqualified apologies to him for unintentionally causing pain and suffering.

Ex-tra flirtatious

2008-01-27T01:24:00.000+05:30

The following is an email sent to Ms. X by Mr. Y.
Y is an ex of Ms. X and she moved to a different city soon after breaking up. They haven't been touch for years till a couple of days back X and Y chat on Gtalk. Then X gets this mail:

Hey Sexy !
Hey X watsaa ! hows life ? how are u yaar , long time naa ! so where are u , someplace naa ? hows da place , i hope its nice ! im missing u alot yaar ( as a friend not more ) . just so you knoe ive broken up with my girlfriend . a long time backactually , sometime in september . so how are you , wen are u comin back to india?

You have any new boyfriend or sumin , i mean i gues u shud by now ! a chick like u can easily get a rockstar . i know no1 can match me and after me uve got high expectations but its okay , you ve gotta give oder guys a chance u knoe . im so sure dere are tonnes of guys who are dying to talk to you and have a crush on you !

So temme , do u miss me or have u just forgotten me ? you shudnt have left and gone to delhi yaar , we both wud have been so good together ! and i swear i wudnt have been shy and wudve spoken to you ! you know what , i think we should stay in touch via e-mails. i mean i can try to check my mails atlest once in a week you know ! for you anything ! chal neways ive gotta go now , need to study you know . so well ill hopefully talk to you soon okay . bye X ! reply jaldi okay .

Your ex-boyfriend ,
Y !

Now many of you might be interested to know the reply. But suffice to say that the above did not succeed, though X noted the point that she was 'Sexy' and repeatedly mentioned the point in our discourse. Of course she refuses to rule him out of contention in the conceivable future. And yes, she is going out with someone - as Y apprehends. But he can hardly be described as a 'Rockstar' in any sense of the term. Nor can Himesh Reshammiyya.

Apocalypse Now - A Fairy Tale

2008-01-27T00:50:00.000+05:30

Once upon a time, there lived Handsome Prince who left The Capital to go to The Far Far South. Though his friends laughed at his prospects there, he did not lose hope. He was duly rewarded for his optimism and confidence in the form of Beautiful Maiden who fell in 'like' with him.

It was the calmest of nights. Prince and Maiden were walking alone when he (being a daring fellow) thought it will be really adventurous to check out a damp and abandoned shed, whose thatched roof had caved in. Once inside the two shared deep personal feelings (the ambience brought it out) and comforted each other. Maiden, quite overcome, put her head on Prince's lap.

Prince was immediately struck by a strong feeling of deja vu. He recalled another intimate incident when Hot Maiden had put her head on his shoulder. Being quite young at the time and having a rather reserved upbringing, he had no clue what was to be done and all that resulted for Prince was a backache. That was the one high point of poor Prince's life and, together with his friends, he had long lamented his naivety.

And lo! There he was staring at another opportunity. Armed with intensive research into the subject (he is now a known authority in his kingdom), he made his move. Everything went smoothly and Prince's happiness knew no bounds when the theory translated into practice so effortlessly. He was now a step closer to salvation. He went back to tell his disbelieving friends (even making a couple of long distance calls in the process) he had conquered what they still aspired for. By the end of next day, he had gone even further - with the shining moon witness to his beaming face.

Soon, Prince and Maiden returned to their respective dwellings. Life turned difficult as they stayed quite away from each other. But for Prince it did not matter much. He met Maiden occasionally, and on those occassions, osculated frequently. He was basking in the glory of his Cool*-ness and was making waves everywhere the word of his conquest spread. Congratulations poured in. His success was unimaginable. He was drowned in suggestions to write a book on his conquest. He was invited to give talks. His model was used in endless case studies. Needless to say had Prince died at that point he would have died a very content man.

One day, Maiden called Prince for advice. She was undecided on going for a College Trip to The Far North as none of her friends were going. Prince strongly recommended that she does, and while she was gone, he immersed himself in the amusement of flirting with Other Maidens.

When Maiden came back, Prince was horrified to hear from her that she no longer wished to do him lip service. He blamed himself for letting the bird fly out of hand. He tried devious means to cajole her back, but to no avail. As the Elders had said before him -

A Maiden who has made up her mind
Is better left alone than defied

For months and months, Prince showed remarkable strength of will and character. He was proud of himself. His friends were amazed at his continence. Again his model was used in endless case studies. And he was pleased to notice that he was rapidly falling in something more than 'like' with Maiden. The signs were all there - He was worried when she talked to Other Princes. He was worried when she did not answer his calls. And he wanted to meet more often.

When his worries got a bit too much for him, Prince decided to tell Maiden 'Where he is' and ask her 'Where she was' and discuss 'Where they were going' – the three pillars of any successful relationship. Maiden summed up the situation in a terse verse (she fancied herself a poetess) -

You wanted it Cool, and I wanted it Close
Now you want it Close, but I want it Cool

Prince thought this was plagiarised from a rhyme about porridges he had learnt as a child:

Some want it Cool (oooh)
Some want it Close (aaah)
Some want it in the Sack
Till they grow Old

At least that was what he remembered. But Maiden burst upon his wandering mind. As long as they were telling things, she had a confession.

Prince held his breath.

While she had been in the jungles of The Far North, she had met a Big Ugly Toad, she said. She had read as a child how a Princess would turn a Toad into a Handsome Prince by kissing him. Now the Maiden really missed Handsome Prince. So she kissed Big Ugly Toad. When nothing happened (after all not all fairy tales are as true as this one), she kissed again while the Big Ugly Toad (clearly enjoying himself) pawed her about.

Maiden was ashamed at what had happened. Prince aghast. He could see his life unravelling. This model will be used in endless case studies. What would happen when his overawed friends heard of this disaster. They will realise that Prince is just as much a loser as a commoner like one of them. Maybe a bigger one. This was all too much to take in as he was busy taking his breaths in huge gulps (on account of holding his breath too long).

He went through the first two of the Five Stages of Grief: Denial (it can't be happening) and Anger (why me? its not fair). So he sat down to write an entry for his Royal Blog. At least his friends will get valuable lessons from his tragedy, he mused (Third Stage – Bargaining). Actually he didn't feel like doing anything else anyway (Fourth – Depression). By the end of his typing efforts Prince was already feeling a lot better and reckoned everything was going to be just fine (Acceptance). Prince published his post.

Oh, and then of course, they all lived happily ever after...

*"But at that age - heck most of the time - it all boils down to cool.
Cool don't ask no questions.
Cool don't want nothing from nobody.
Cool is self-suffiecient.
Cool waits for things to happen because things happen to Cool.

Love is the ultimate loss of Cool as it brings rejection in its wake."

- from Surviving Women by Jerry Pinto

Its time for some Perspective

2008-01-08T20:32:00.001+05:30

Now that the ICC has acquisced to the Indian team's demand of replacing Bucknor and the procedure for the appeal against Harbhajan is underway, it is time for Cricket to come to the forefront again. The emotional outbursts against the Australian team's behavior while understandable should be transient. Lets recapitulate what all they have done to so upset us and unite the whole nation behind the team:

Ricky Ponting, the Aussie captain, after entering into a gentleman's agreement with Anil Kumble chose to use it as and when it suited his advantage
Ponting, Symonds, Clarke, Hussey were guilty of not walking when clearly out
Gilchrist appealed for a catch that he must have known to be non-existent
Excessive appealing and harassing the umpires
Celebrating like a group of 15 year olds and not giving credit to the deserving opposition
Accusing Harbhajan Singh of racial abuse after deliberately taunting and provoking him

It is quite clear that to make an issue out of 2, 3, 5 and walking out of the series is out of question. After having called the Aussies 'cry-babies' for taking the Bhajji issue out of the cricket field, we can't and should not take hypocrisy to new levels by using trivial issues like these.

The point no. 4 can be dealt with greater strictness from the umpires and match referee. After the criticism cutting across nationalities, the officials will only be more careful. Stung by the harsh comments, the Aussie cricketers will also lie low for a while, as they did after the Sarwan-McGrath incident in 2003.

The point no. 6 is under appeal, and the Indians have sufficiently retaliated by throwing a counter charge against Brad Hogg. Besides, after the accusation Bhajji got Ponting for the fifth time off the very first ball he bowled to him in 8 tests and we all heartily enjoyed the moment.

What remains is the biggest problem of all. In fact there is precedent where the captain of a team was banned for the highest possible punishment - banned for five ODI's - when he tried to cheat on a catch. Read about the Rashid Latif incident here.

While Ponting could not get Dhoni out, and there is no way to prove that he knew about Clarke's claim being false against Ganguly, he cannot really be equated with Rashid Latif. There is definite case against him and Clarke, and possibly Gilchrist, but it will be impossible to prove. Especially so now that His Excellency Mr. Proctor thinks only Aussies can be truthful. So it is pointless for the Indians to go down that road and distract themselves further.

Then how do we deal with these arrogant snots? By beating them on the field. By screwing them in full public view in their own backyard at something they think they are the best at. Sounds good? The record that India has when charged up is phenomenal. Zaheer Khan gave an example on the England tour recently.

On the other hand, what will happen if we pull out? We will lose all the credibility that we have gained from our dignified Captain. Ponting and his boys will gloat over their success and get more pompous. It will be years before they are challenged again.
So lets go for the kill. Perth chalo...

Different Standards

2008-01-07T08:34:00.000+05:30

The Indian cricket team suffered at the hands of an establishment which has repeatedly shown itself to have a separate set of standards for non-white teams. Here are some of them that immediately spring to mind:

The preposterous decision to just fine Mark Waugh and Shane Warne after their self-confessed encounters with bookmakers while banning Ajay Jadeja for a similar crime
The Mike Denness shocker, who incidentally shares his first name with Mike Proctor (the match referee for the Sydney test), where Indians players including Sachin and Sourav were fined and banned for 'ball tampering' and 'excessive appealing' without any complaints from the umpires themselves
Darryl Hair's accusing Pakistan of ball tampering and consequently calling off the test match when the offended Pak team walked off the ground
Muralitharan's elbow flex was deemed to be way over the prescribed 5 degrees and censure was imminent before the ICC found that many bowlers including Brett Lee had abnormally high flex angles. So they conveniently changed the rules to make it 15 degrees (Brett's was 11 degrees)

The most disturbing part of the Harbhajan episode seems to be how there was no 'evidence' whatsoever in the words of the match referee himself. Only one's word against another. Now who would you rather trust: the ultimate gentlemen of the game - Sachin and Kumble; or the guys who have been shown on live television how they lie and defraud - Symonds, Clarke and Ponting? These were the people presenting their respective sides of the story. Clearly Mike Proctor had already made up his mind. Especially after the public dressing down he received from ICC boss Malcolm Speed (another Aussie) for not penalising Yuvraj in the first test. The match referee then actually goes ahead and says he 'regretted' his decision. Meanwhile, Ponting did a la-Yuvi in Sydney and there has hardly been a mutter.

The harassing and haranguing of umpires is common practice with the Australians. McGrath and Warne were great exponents of this deplorable way of coercing decisions and influencing umpires. I don't entirely blame the umpires for their mistakes. They are also human as are the players. Batsmen and bowlers also make mistakes. But they can get dropped for repeated mistakes and they train hard to play each match. I can't see why the umpires should not do the same. Maybe take a few 'mental toughening' lessons too. It is obvious from the sheer number of decisions that have gone against visiting teams Down Under among their 'human' errors that they need a psychologist of some kind.

It was also very admirable of Kumble to conduct himself with so much dignity after the match(video). While many of us were screaming daylight robbery, he was busy telling Harsha Bhogle how certain 'things' went against the Indian team. And used a line which must be one of the biggest understatements of dispeasure - "Only one team was playing with the spirit of the game, that's all I can say", while at the same time the Australians were rolling on the ground mocking Harbhajan. Not one Aussie cared to give credit to the Indian team for their spirit and fight in the only test of their last 16 that went into the penultimate over. I quote Peter Roebuck

Kumble trooped forlornly from the field and reached the boundary before any Australian thought to shake his hand.

Given the atmosphere of disillusionment in the Indian dressing room and the erosion of mutual trust and respect between the teams, I fail to see why the tour should be continued. If the ICC is calling Sachin a liar and Symonds an epitome of fair play and honesty, it is time the BCCI and the nation backed up our team when everyone else seems to be bent on breaking their courage to dare to stand up to the Aussies.

As Martin Williamson says on the Cricinfo Magazine:

Not walking is not cheating. Claiming a catch you know you have not caught cleanly is; the same goes for claiming a bat-pad catch when you know it was nowhere near the edge. The difference is that in one you are leaving the umpire to make his decision, in the other you are openly trying to deceive him.

Deception is clearly a trait the Australian team has mastered. Though one is not allowed to question its 'intergrity'.

Writer’s Block*

2008-01-03T16:20:00.000+05:30

It is not because I have nothing to write that I pick my pen up so sparingly. It is because I have so much to write. Not events. My life remains as devoid of them as ever. But thoughts. And there is an unlimited amount of these for an idle mind like mine...
Its funny how right upto opening the diary and writing the few opening lines, I will have incredible ideas and remarkable remarks. But now there is nothing. Its like that incredible pulp of amassed thoughts is trying to makes its way through an orifice as big as this pen's nib has.

* from my journal, dated 2nd January 2007. The situation is not very different a year on.

Quotable quotes from Cricket

2007-12-26T04:16:00.000+05:30

Well, the Cricket fanatic that I am, I read this Cricinfo article on famous quotes in the world of cricket this year and here are some excerpts:

"There are generally no reporters at our matches, either to see our team's performances, or my dimples."
Mithali Raj, captain of the Indian women's team, bemoans the lack of media coverage of women's cricket

"I've always subscribed to the theory that you shouldn't make a fast bowler angrier than he already is."
A deadpan James Sutherland, Australia's chief exec, when asked for his thoughts about Tait's action

"Who made them boring?"
Looking straight at the camera, a deadpan Richie Benaud responds to Geoff Boycott's call for four-day Tests because five days are, apparently, boring

"I realised the ball was bigger than one person, bigger than Gilchrist. It was the public's ball."
In a speech worthy of a film, John, the man who found the ball Adam Gilchrist hit for his hundredth Test six, reveals why he decided to hand it back

"I'm not the boozing and eating machine as some people think."
Stuart MacGill calls it as he sees it

"We are hoping to play New Zealand ... we are sure if we do not beat them, we can fight them."
Afghanistan coach Taj Malik causes palpitations in both the ICC and United Nations

"Yeh to Geoffrey Boycott ki maa bhi pakad leti". [Even Geoffrey Boycott's mum would have caught this.]
Atul Wassan gets innovative in describing the sitter Misbah-ul-Haq dropped in the slips, off Robin Uthappa

"I love the Boss range of grooming products and use Boss Skin refreshing face wash on a daily basis. When I'm playing cricket I apply Boss Skin Revitalizing moisturizer with SPF 15 to help protect against sun damage. At night I use the Boss Skin Moisture Gel."
Any ideas who Kevin Pietersen is promoting?

"Shane, with your, er, sorry Shane."
An unnamed reporter can't let go of Shane Warne's memory as he starts a question to Stuart MacGill ... who had just reached 200 Test wickets

"Just bring the cards to the ground."
Ricky Ponting when asked how he'll deal with the wet weather forecast for the first two days of the Brisbane Test against Sri Lanka

"Andre unfortunately only had one line that he was dishing out to Shoaib Malik and the boys so it got a bit monotonous there. We just had a chat to Andre and said to Graeme Smith, 'Well, look he's only traipsing out one line, it's getting a bit boring'."
The umpire Simon Taufel keeps a straight face as he explains that he found Andre Nel's sledges, sorry sledge, a bit repetitively dull

"We were at a warm-up game in Zimbabwe once and the fast bowlers were on with the old ball. I was standing at slip with Inzi next to me. We crouched down as you do when the bowlers were coming in. Four or five balls later, I noticed Inzi was still crouching and surprised, I asked him if everything was ok. He replied, "I'm fine, just trying to sleep. The ball is old and reversing so there's hardly a chance there will be any edges to snap up."
Aamer Sohail recounts a classic Inzamam-ul-Haq anecdote

"Well, thank God we've arrived in Sri Lanka, where there don't appear to be any strip clubs whatsoever."
Paul Collingwood's relieved on realising there's little scope of being spotted in all the wrong places in Sri Lanka (He was fined by the English Board when he went to a strip joint in South Africa)

"I don't know - for us or for Pakistan?"
Graeme Smith wittily replies when asked if the absence of Shoaib Akhtar would be an advantage during South Africa's tour of Pakistan

"If I was sitting in an armchair then I'd be disappointed as well."
Rahul Dravid with a message for armchair fans who were critical of his decision not to enforce the follow-on at The Oval

"I don't know what that's all about, mate. The only person I can remember doing it was a wrestler called the Rock."
Jason Gillespie can't remember anyone else referring to themselves in the third person, as England players such as Michael Vaughan are getting into the habit of doing

"A great advert for cricket."
BBC football correspondent Mark Lawrenson is frustrated with a boring first half of the FA Cup final, played just up the road from England's tussle with West Indies

That's enough, I think... There are just too many

Gandhigiri is Irrelevant for ‘GenNext’*

2007-10-03T20:47:00.002+05:30

Gandhigiri is a sobriquet popularized by the movie Lage Raho Munna Bhai for the application of some of Gandhi’s principles. Although Gandhism is a much broader ideology, Gandhigiri touches the core of Gandhism: adherence to the path of Truth and non-violence with unwavering faith and utmost devotion while fighting for a cause. But, real life as we often realize, is not as rosy as Bollywood would like us to believe.

So the question boils down to if Gandhigiri is relevant to people like you and I. Can we follow it?

Relevance means ‘related to the matter at hand’. So, is Gandhigiri related to GenNext (the matter at hand), by what it means now, and not by what it should mean? And what does it mean? This term, coined by a cola advertisement and picked up by the mass media thereafter, is not another word for the youth. No. That would be a crass generalization. It is actually an epithet for those among the youth who have an urban lifestyle, like you and I, the ‘cool and modern’ us - a massive potential market for the cola company concerned. GenNext is an idea which promotes self-indulgence. It tells us, have a ‘cool drink’ and not worry about the obviously overcharged prices and the obviously high amount of calories, not to mention the pesticides; because it’s ‘cool’ man! Don’t worry about the future. Here is Now!

This ‘living in the present’ or ‘being practical’ philosophy, as we fancifully put it, is the essence of our GenNext. We are proud of it and flaunt it at every opportunity. Hey, I’m not being judgmental here. I’ve been there, done it. After standing in a queue for 3hrs for my driver’s license (I didn’t get it done by an agent, just to make a point), when I finally reached the counter, the official claimed it was lunch and I should come back the next day. Of course, he did mention – and not too discreetly at that - that a 100 rupee note would be a winning argument for his grumbling tummy. Without undue hesitation, I paid it. So much for the ‘point’ I was trying to make.

It is not about following the ‘right path’. It is about how disillusioned we are by the system. We lack the faith to go up to a cop nearby to get you justice as it will probably have the sole consequence of losing our place in a queue full of people willing to dish out the extra cash. How many of us will do the right thing, no matter what?

The application of Gandhi’s principles involves great self-discipline, patience, perseverance and above all the faith that inspite of disappointments along the way, success will eventually come our way. These are some principles the GenNext uses, but only as and when it suits its convenience.

Another point to consider is how Gandhigiri as a means of protest works only if the oppressor has a conscience. When Munna offers the other cheek on being slapped, he is promptly smacked again. Similarly, Mr. Chedi Lal of Lucknow, was thrown out of the office when he aped the ‘stripping solution’ to get his pension released. A decadent society leaves doubt in the efficacy of following methods like Gandhigiri which are a function of the moral certitudes of the people.

Hence, Success is hardly assured by Gandhigiri. And we, as GenNext, cannot just be content with feeling good about the ‘right path’ we followed. The means is not the end for us. We want our results. And in quick time too, especially in this world of cut-throat competition.

Gandhi said –

"True happiness comes when what you think, say and do are in harmony"

We are quite able at thinking, debating about Gandhigiri, but when it comes to practicing it, we fall short. Not because we lack the tenacity, but because Gandhi’s principles are irreconcilable with our ideas of pragmatism and our own lack of faith in society’s conscientiousness. Maybe we are missing out on ‘true happiness’, but that is a totally different question.

*This was the topic given in a debating competition held in DCE last year. I was speaking for the motion.

The Bicycle Diaries - Part III

2007-06-29T03:51:00.000+05:30

Somename* was very pleased with himself. He was returning to IMSc after attending to some work in Adyar. It was almost quarter to eight. He had promised his friend he will be back in IMSc in time for dinner. Somename was feeling very smug about keeping his promise.

He had traversed heavy traffic on mud-sloshed roads, weaving through honking buses and stuck cars. He particularly recalled, with a satisfied smile, how he had overtaken a Toyota Camry on his rather rickety MTB Hercules, borrowed from a PhD student.

As he neared the bicycle road, (which lies to one side of the very wide Old Mahabalipuram Road) he remembered that the bicycle road was submerged from the thundershower earlier that evening. Weighing his options between riding on the wrong side of the main road and taking the footpath, he chose the latter. His boisterous mood helping that decision. But there was a glitch.

He would have to get off the bike to lift it on to the slightly elevated footpath. That did not feel right. It would be condescending after the heroics on the road earlier. So his buoyant mind hatched a devious plan. He would lift the front wheel just when he nears the edge of the footpath, and get on it. Without even slowing down!

He prepared for the finale by rehearsing a few 'wheelies' of the front wheel. All this while he had not slowed down. Tension mounted as he neared the edge. Biting his lip, with bated breath, he prepared for the jump and prepared for the worst case scenario. "If I fall, there is no cause for embarrassment as the bicycle road is dark and deserted. There might be some minor scratches, but what the heck", he thought. With this positive frame of mind, he jumped.

And lo! The bicycle was over and safe. And gaining speed! Somename was over the moon.

Now, the footpath (which was very wide) had trees lined along its middle. Somename felt he should weave through the trees to celebrate this hazardous accomplishment. As he swung his bike towards the first one, he suddenly realized that the tree was in a pit larger than usual. To avoid it he braked and swerved. The bike slid on the slippery, wet surface and Somename went sprawling to one side of the tree and the bike to the other side.

Miraculously, he felt no broken bones or scratches. So, inspite of the 'high-speed' accident, he felt rather euphoric at the adventure he had experienced. Then there was a sinking feeling of a stinking smell.

Somename realized he was smeared with fresh faeces (commonly known as 'Shit' and sometimes 'Crap' among the Gentry and 'Poo' to commoners) all down one side. One can scarcely imagine the anguish and suffering of Somename. What a fall! From the euphoria and the jubilation...

In vain did he try to find a water tap to clean himself. Frantically he got the bike up and raced to IMSc guest house (the smell following him and making him retch all the time). How he wiped the sizable amount of excreta and washed himself clean will remain a story untold. Somename was too shaken to relive it.

* The identity of the Individual whose alleged involvement in the hypothetical occurrence that has been the subject of the above discussion, is not shrouded in quite such impenetrable obscurity as the author may have led you to assume, but not to put too fine a point on it, the individual in question is, it may surprise you to learn, one whom the author is in the habit of defining by means of the perpendicular pronoun.

The Bicycle Diaries - Part II

2007-06-29T03:02:00.000+05:30

Debasish* was in a pensive mood (girl problems as usual). He was riding a bike he borrowed from a PhD student, returning from a refreshing bout of cycling. The bike, being a stylish MTB (Mountain Terrain Bike, for the uninitiated), had two sets of handlebars. Debasish was enjoying the fresh air with his hands on the upper ones.

As he neared the IMSc gate, he noticed that the narrow entrance was partly blocked by a group of fellow summer interns. But in his very deeply pensive mood, he neglected his noticing this very noticable obstruction.

So he carried on, unruffled. Meanwhile, the guy blocking the gate noticed the onrushing Debasish (with a very pensive expression on his face). He tried to move out of his way only to realize that Debasish, in trying to avoid him, moved in the same direction.

Now Debasish swerved away and reached for the brakes. To his immediate wonder and anguish, the upper handlebars did not have a set of brakes with them. Brakes were there only for the lower ones. He was headed towards the Drain.

For a split-second he agonised over the rationale of having brakes only for the lower handle bars. Then, realizing that he had more pressing issues at hand, he decided to let it pass. He had not quite recovered from the shock of absence of brakes and the paucity of time forced him into making a hurried decision. Instead of putting his feet on the ground to slow down or clutching for the brakes only an inch away, he decided to avoid the dreaded Drain by crashing into a tree right next to it.

Although he suffered just minor bruising on his forearm, he was distracted from whatever had clouded his mind for the past few days. Even if it was for a brief while.

* The names have been retained as original to reaffirm identity ;)

The Bicycle Diaries - Part I

2007-06-29T01:41:00.002+05:30

Chennai has turned out to be most difficult to travel in, especially for a non- Tamilian like me. The public transport system is not really bad. There are loads of buses, and quite frequent too. But sometimes the destinations are written only in the local language. And if you ask for bus routes, using as much sign language as you can manage, one gets a queer 'all buses go there' answer. The auto-rikshaw guys here have made quite a name for themselves for their knavish tendencies. As I was forewarned, I avoid taking an auto as far as possible. So, invariably I end up walking most of the time. But walking has its limits. So me and my friends from Delhi (we are all here for the summer) try to borrow a bicycle whenever possible. Our bicycle rides have been quite eventful.

Kanishk* was riding his bike late at night. It was past 1 am. He and his friends had just been to the Besant Nagar Beach. He had been dreading the ride back through the dark and desolate road from IMSc (where his friends were staying) to his hostel room in IIT-M.

He cursed his friends under his breath for getting him so late. He cursed Aditya* out loud.

But at least he had his bicycle. He had bought it for 400 bks, second hand. He could make it back to his room in 15 minutes or less, if he hurried. He pedalled hard, thinking about all the stupid Tamilians he had met during this short trip. Why the hell could they not speak Hindi? Its our National Language, after all...

(Kanishk by the way is highly racist and swears upon the superiorty of North Indians).

He cursed the Tamilians under his breath. He cursed the Madras auto drivers out loud.

Just a few minutes now, he thought. Swerving past a pothole, and cursing the Chennai roads and the municipal corporation, he caught sight of a pack of dogs eyeing him icily. Shivers ran up his spine. God they were right in the middle of this hell-hole. "Damn these madrasi dogs. I will just shoot past them" , he thought.

He pedalled harder. The dogs started to growl. (They smelled a racist coward) The growls grew louder and Kanishk's pedalling faster.

As soon as he crossed them and heaved a sigh of relief, the dogs charged as a whole, with frightfully loud barks. Kanishk panicked.

He cursed the madrasi bicycle for not being fast enough. The dogs were catching up. He started to scream. At the dogs. Hoping that it would frighten them away. It only made them wilder. He screamed harder. Looking over the shoulder all this while. Suddenly, he saw the dogs slowing down and dispersing. "Stupid cowardly madrasi dogs", he thought.

As he turned his head, he realized he was hurtling towards a Tata Sumo. It was too late. He crashed into it head on. His bike lay twisted and he lay battered on the bonnet. Before you get any ideas, I must assert here that the Sumo was stationary. There was no one in it. No one visible for miles, at that ungodly hour.

Kanishk took time to collect his thoughts and senses and assess injuries. He saw that the bike was a mess, and he could not ride it anymore. Nor could he carry it as he had injured his leg sometime during that spectacular fall. And he half expected some madrasi robber to jump out of the darkness. At that moment, he lost it all and started cursing everyone he knew. Out loud.

Someone apparently had heard him. There was movement in the shadows. Kanishk was scared. Has his worst nightmare come true? A madrasi stepped out. He took the scene in with a glance. He said something in Tamil, with only the word 'auto' discernible. Kanishk (already on alert, what with 'auto' being mentioned) thinks how can I ever find an auto in this hell-hole so late at night. Meanwhile, the madrasi was making wild gesticulations and pointing to his house.

Kanishk followed him, with some trepidation and some pain, and found that the madrasi owned an auto-rikshaw. The madrasi helped Kanishk put the bike in and dropped him to his hostel. Since Kanishk did not have change for the fare, the madrasi refused to take anything at all and left Kanishk mouthing no curses at all - for the first time that night.

Kanishk was last heard singing praises of all Tamilians and has developed a keen interest in learning their language. He paid the auto guy the next day.

* The names have been retained as original to reaffirm identity. ;)

Undergraduates: A Guide to Casual Conversation

2007-06-22T15:53:00.000+05:30

"Hey !! How's College??" Oh! The complete sense of ease that follows this remark is remarkable. You know perfectly the routes the conversation is going to take and are familiar with the by-lanes as well.

The reason that this very pick-up line is so widely in use among young undergraduates is that complete strangers can become near soul mates within just a few minutes of dialogue after using it.

What usually follows is a series of innovative adjectives - that get better with each successive retelling - describing the college, its campus, the crowd, its grandeur and resplendent glory. Hostlers can brag about their night-life while day-scholars rant about the enjoyable trips back and forth. For one practiced in this art, appropriate metaphors also flow with ease, captivating the listener.

Of course, well-timed "really!?", "hmmm..", "is that so?", "What about…", etc are all vital and show the level of enthusiasm of the listener and help increase the confidence of the speaker. Soon the roles are reversed and the exchange canters along.

The next stage is usually about grievances with your respective colleges. After being cautiously introduced in the conversation (since it is d and if some of the fallacies match, you've hit jackpot! The smiles just get broader.

After exhausting all the facts possible about each college, you get to the real interesting part: The Anecdotes. The excitement in each camp is palpable as both recount story after story of their respective college lives. Truth often takes a beating as the game of one-upmanship reaches a climax.

If the parties involved have some big egos, then the friendly game can turn into a no-holds-barred boasting match till invariably ending in one of them saying "wow, that's amazing! See ya later" Only it is sure to mean the later the better.

Of course, mostly it does not end this way and a general air of bonhomie is a common result.

If the level of understanding reaches extreme highs, or, if both are old partners in this game, one can broach the relatively sensitive issue of the opposite sex in the discussion. Of course, if its two boys together, then usually dialogue quickly comes round to exchanging notes on the sex ratio in class, quality standard, The Top Five and their vital statistics. Girls, I cannot comment on as I have not been fortunate enough of being invited as an observer to the discussion of their observations…

So, if you are feeling left out in a party or gathering, all you have to do is say: Hi! How's college? And you'll be on course to a nice evening.

Also from my journal, written right after one such conversation...

Factual Pulp: The Human Transgression

2007-06-22T15:31:00.000+05:30

I like to call myself an intellectual. Modesty forces me to explain the context I use the word in. It sometimes happens that I go into deep reverie when thinking about something very simple and I will end up with a very strange idea. It’s a regular pastime for me. One such sequence of thoughts went like the following:

Everything in the natural world wants to survive. There are plenty of examples- leaves of the huge Amazon forests fight with each other for sunlight; the cacti in the Sahara protect themselves from thirsty animals through thorns; the bacteria deep in the ocean beds have mechanisms to withstand the high pressures and low temperatures; etc. All species seem to have an unwritten law that tells them survival is all-important. All of them have a 'survival instinct'. Now I asked myself, for what? There must be a purpose. Or is the very necessity of existence of purpose a purely human notion?

Anyway, assuming there was such a purpose, I set about looking for one. There were lots of actions every species indulged in - feeding, excreting, etc - but all of them were to help the individual live body to survive and not THE ultimate purpose I was looking for. Finally, I set my sights on reproduction. It seemed to fit the bill from every angle. All individual beings seemed to be living just to make sure they disseminate their genes widely. In fact there are some insects which actually die immediately after the act itself. And Lions are known to kill all the cubs in the pride so that the lioness comes into heat again. The point being that even death, the antithesis of life, is a mere stepping stone for life's pursuance of the ultimate objective. This, for me, confirmed my hypothesis.

Supposing I am on the right track till now, I will rattle forward with my little train of thought. If there is this supreme purpose in every being's life, of which it is subconsciously aware, or at least appears to be, then there is one glaring contradiction to this general statement. Homo Sapiens.

Its not that human beings do not want to reproduce. The “dissemination of the genes” certainly seems very high up the priority ladder for our species (and I mean Men, of course). On a more serious note, the Second World War was about the Nazi Party’s belief that their Aryan race was superior to every other on the planet. Similarly, such line of thinking can be seen in old British imperialism or even the neo American imperialism. One could go on drawing such parallels for all cultures of all times. But there is a difference for humans.

“The problem is Choice” – as the Wachowski brothers have so pertinently suggested in The Matrix Trilogy. As a species, we seem to have scored over others with the gift of Choice - at least the mirage of having one. At any point of time even if Biology forces us to act one way, we can choose to do otherwise. Or even Society for that matter. Hell, even the Almighty himself!

You know what I am talking about. If a guy has to take a crap, it can wait if he has an important meeting to go to. No animal – dog for example – would worry about something like that. The real skewed part is about the “ultimate purpose” I talked about earlier. Birth Control. Suggestively, one of the many pills in the market is also called ‘Choice’. Ha! Direct contravention of Nature’s/Life’s/God’s ‘purpose’?

The Darwinian theory of Evolution tells us that Humans are right up the evolutionary ladder. Then why this deviation?

The above has been adapted from my journal entry dated 4-12-2006