Twenty20: A Bowler’s Game

Anybody who saw Chris Gayle and Herschelle Gibbs plonk the white ball to all parts of The Wanderers stadium at Johannesburg on Tuesday night might want to disagree with the title of this post. Let me explain why I respectfully disagree.

The thought struck me when I heard Ian Chappell mention a basic fact of the game, viz. a good batsman is a good batsman, period. Likewise, I thought, a good bowler is a good bowler, period.

It doesn’t matter if he (the bowler) is hit for many more runs in a particular over as compared to what he would have been hit for in a ODI or a Test match. What has changed is the definition of a good over. Whereas in a 50 overs game, a good over was one where the batsman could not score more than 4 or a maximum of 5 runs, in the 20 overs version of the game, this will become 7 to 8 runs.

This is where the bowler’s skill comes in to play. He now has to be more cunning than ever and use the sleight of hand in order to ensure variations in line, length and the pace at which he bowls. And that can get him great results, like it happened for Daren Powell who had figures of 4 overs, no maidens, 3 wickets for 4 runs in a warm-up game.

I disagree with those who say it is purely a batsman’s game. If the game has become uni-dimensional for anybody, it is for the batsman. All he has to do is think about tonking the next ball out of the park.

Yesterday, of course, it was great fun watching Zimbabwe beat Australia in a nail-biting finish. I couldn’t get to see the Australian innings, but the highlights package showed what a good fielding side the Zimbabweans were. They had thrown themselves at everything and had taken some good catches in the outfield, an area where, I am sad to note, India hasn’t done well of late.

Pros of Twenty20:

- Weaker-looking teams can do well in matches against ‘stronger’ opposition, since there is very little time for the ‘stronger’ team to recover if they fumble even once.

Cons of Twenty20:

- Watching the inaugural match (South Africa vs. West Indies) gave me a headache, what with so many sixes being hit, so much noise and very little time, as a viewer, to grasp the nuances of the game. [I know some might argue that this is a sure sign of ageing, but then…]

- Too many girls wearing bright-red sports bras (I don’t care what they’re said to be, they look like sports bras) and bum-hugging short chaddis while shaking their things on TV. Watching Twenty20 at home might be a problem.

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Now playing: Sukhvinder Singh - Chak de India
via FoxyTunes

'SHARK' tag

If Houdini were alive, methinks he would have hopped on to the next flight to Calcutta, driven down to my house and have personally congratulated me for having done my disappearing act over the last few days. I haven’t been online of late and have been careful / silly enough to have neglected the phone to miss calls from friends. Just as well that I haven’t been shaving over the last couple of days - my beard *might* help me to escape unharmed. I say this since a couple of weeks ago, I met a school-friend after a gap of 6 years, and he recognised me without any trouble at all as he said my “face is just like it was back in class 12”.

In other words, I might be closing in on 25, but I still have the face of a 18 year old. Hmm…

Well, I have been busy reading books (I have already completed two in the last two days and am on the verge of finishing a third), watching movies (almost 6 in the last 4 days) and the CDs of the old TV program ‘Chanakya’ (remember Chandraprakash Dwivedi as the wily and astute professor of politics at Takshila University who single-handedly brings down the Nanda empire?).

Anyway, just as I find out that Motee has tagged me, it turns out she has also tagged Arpz who, in turn, has also tagged me!! Talk about being in favour with the ladies. ~proudly pats himself on the back~

Enough of wayside talk, on with the tag.

THE RULES

- Players, you must list one fact that is somehow relevant to your life for each letter of their middle name. If you don’t have a middle name, use the middle name you would have liked to have had.
- When you are tagged you need to write your own blog-post containing your own middle name game facts.
- At the end of your blog-post, you need to choose one person for each letter of your middle name to tag.
- Don’t forget to leave them a comment telling them they’re tagged.

THE TAG

Here’s the tag, as filled in by Shekhar ‘Shark’.

S – STORIES. As a child growing up in a building full of grown-ups, Mom introduced me to the world of books, and thereby, to the world of stories. Life has never been the same since then. Whether it is in the form of books, films or conversations over a cup of steaming hot tea, I love listening to (and sometimes, narrating) stories.

H – HERO. This might seem like an extended lecture on Vedanta, but ever since I read Swami Vivekananda’s works, I’m convinced that within each one of us there exists a hero and that it is our karmic duty to unleash this hero to the world.

A – AMBITIOUS. I am as ambitious as the guy living next door to you. I too make up lists of things to be achieved and deadlines by when they should be achieved. Achieving them is where, as the bard would remind us, lies the rub.

R – RAIN. There was a time I absolutely loved rains. I enjoyed going up to the window and watching droplets from heaven rushing down to kiss a planet that God so obviously loves. Even better would be taking a drive in the rains; I enjoyed the soft hum of the car AC as the rains washed the world which I passed by.

K – KOLKATA. (Before anyone raises their eyebrows, ‘Kolkata’ is in fact the official name now.) A city with which I have a love-hate relationship. There is much about the city that I adore, much that I miss when I’m away. At the same time, there are many memories, images, emotions which cause nothing else but pain.

~hat-tip to Mini~ If it weren’t for you, I would’ve never figured out that there lived a SHARK within. :)

And no, I don’t tag any one.

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Now playing: Bill Withers - Ain't No Sunshine When She's Gone - Original
via FoxyTunes

Memories

Last week, when this blog suddenly saw a flurry of posts, I missed out on another milestone that this blog went past.

Ladies and Gentlemen: This blog has now crossed 200 posts.

And this is post no. 202. :)

And since this blog, like any other diary/log book, is like a record for memories, both sweet and sour, I thought I would share a beautiful song with my readers.

Film: Yaadein
Director: Subhash Ghai
Lyrics: Anand Bakshi

Nagme hain, shikwe hain
Kisse hain, baatein hain

Baatein bhool jaati hain
Yaadein yaad aati hain

Yeh yaadein kisi dil-o-jaanam ke
Chal jaane ke baad aati hain

Yeh jeevan dil jaani, dariya ka hai paani
Paani to beh jaaye, baaqi kya reh jaaye

Yaadein, yaadein, yaadein

Duniya mein yun aana, duniya se yun jaana
Aao to le aana, jaao to de jaana

Yaadein, yaadein, yaadein

Translation:

There are melodies and there are complaints,
There are stories and then there are words.

Words are forgotten,
What remain are… MEMORIES.

Memories are all that remain
After a beloved person has left us.

This life, dear people, is like the waters of the river
The water flows on, what stays behind are…

MEMORIES

You come to this world and after some time, leave it.
When you come into this world, what you bring along with you...
And when you leave it, what you leave behind are…

MEMORIES

What a row

My good friend and I decided to go for a movie today. As we entered the semi-darkened hall, popcorn in hand, the usher guided us to our seats. “To the left, sixth row, first two seats from the aisle.”

As my friend and I walked down the stairs, I noticed that the row of seats to our left had just four seats in each row, as these were close to the left wall of the auditorium. My friend, who was a step ahead of me (Obviously! She wasn’t the one having to do a balancing trick with the popcorn paper bag which is always one size too small) walked to where our seats were and promptly seated herself in the seat next to the aisle.

“Hey, why don’t you occupy the next seat and I’ll take the aisle seat so that you won’t get disturbed every time someone walks by,” I said. Who said chivalry is a forgotten concept?

“No,” she replied promptly. “I’d much rather sit here, for you don’t know what kind of fellow occupies the seat next to us.”

“Suit yourself,” I shrugged and occupied the second seat from the aisle.

A minute later, two pretty looking young girls walk down to our row and gingerly walk past us to occupy the seats to my left.

“Thank YOU,” I whisper to my friend in glee. “You’re like my BEST FRIEND EVER..!” I promise her. My friend just chuckles at the stupid grin I have on my face.

~sigh~ Just too good to last, wasn’t it??

Not a minute has passed since I had showered praises on my friend when the sweet lady to my left turns around and asks me, “Err…what row is this? In fact, can I have a look at your ticket?”

Now, even before yours truly had an opportunity to enquire further into the nature of trouble that the pretty woman was having, and perhaps follow that concern with a friendly question of whether she and her friend would like to join me and my friend for lunch (which obviously would have ended in us having a great time together and realizing that we two shared the same interests and also that we thoroughly enjoyed each other’s company, et al…you get the picture, don’t you?), my friend decided to proceed and display to the world at large how well her kindergarten teacher had taught her the alphabets of the English language.

“Row F,” she said. “This is row F.”

“OH!” says pretty-lady-to-the-left and motions to her friend. They both get up and walk right past us and seat themselves in the row behind us.

"Brilliant," I muttered to myself. "Just brilliant!!"

My friend couldn’t control her laughter for two minutes running even as I sat fuming.

How rude is that???

Cataloguing my personal library

It was not without a great deal of sadness that I told Motee about my Mom's latest declaration - "Thou shalt not buy any more books". And the reason is very simple, there ain't no more space in my room to keep books !!

It isn't as if my room resembles the grand hall of the National Library. It's just that the sweet and charming book-shelf above my erstwhile study table ("erstwhile", since there's very little studying happening nowadays and of course, there's the PC on top of the desk as well, leaving very little space for desk jobs) has absolutely no space to accommodate any more books. And because of this, of late, most of my books were being piled one on top of another.

This obviously led to a very frustrating time as a bibliophile. It is extremely irritating when one cannot keep track of all the books that one has at his disposal.

So today evening, I set out to at least iron out my troubles as far as cataloguing my books was concerned. I did the most obvious thing any b-schooler would've done...I Googled. And although the scientific methods of Dewey and the Library of Congress mentioned in the comments space of this page proved to be much more than what I needed for the handful of books that I have, the range of comments and the various manners of cataloguing books (both scientific and the not so scientific) did help me in coming up with a strategy, keeping in mind the limited space resource that I have.

I proceeded to lay out all my books on the bed and as I separated the fiction from the non-fiction ones, I entered the names of the books and the respective authors into a spreadsheet on my laptop. Once this was done, I arranged my non-fiction books into categories such as 'business', 'philosophy', 'religion', 'cinema' etc. As for the fiction books, I decided I didn't want to get into anything fancy right now and just arrange them in alphabetical order, first by the name of the author and then by the name of the books.

Two and a half hours after I started this labour of love, I had achieved quite a few things.

1) Most of my books have been neatly arranged in the same book-shelf that I, not so long ago, thought incapable of holding as many books.

2) I have been able to separate the "books" from the old text-books (reminders of my school life) and the various editions of the Readers' Digest.

3) A 'database' of books has now been created which shall help me in keeping me informed of all the books that I have and those which I have lent out to friends.

4) The greatest reward for cataloguing my books has been that now I have a fair idea of the next few books that I want to buy. For instance, I realized that I have very few books on cinema and cricket. Also, there are a lot many more classics that I want to read.

All in all, the back-breaking exercise seems to have paid off. At the end of the day, I'm a happy bibliophile.

Now, if only I could figure out a way to convince Mum that I should buy more books. Hmm...

Tata Crucible Quiz 2007 at Kolkata

On a day when I’m dead tired, I don’t know what it is that is keeping me awake. Perhaps it is because I am just so excited going over and over the gifts and merchandise that I won at the Kolkata edition of the Annual Tata Crucible Quiz.

Yes, you heard that right. An individual like me who must’ve set some sort of a record for not having browsed through a pink paper or a business magazine in the last few months actually managed to intelligently *ahem* guess my way through a couple of rounds of a tough quizzing contest.

It all began a few weeks ago when Rahul, a colleague at work, brought to my notice that the Tata Crucible Quiz was about to be held in the city. The plan was very simple. We two would put on our best Sunday clothes and answer as many questions as we knew (or, as we thought we knew).

Come today afternoon, our team managed to answer quite a few questions (11 or 12 out of the 25 asked) in the preliminary round and were pleasantly surprised to find that we had qualified as one of the 6 top teams for the regional finals.

Once on stage, however, the nerves set in. We let a couple of questions go past us, only to find out later that our guesses would’ve been correct. Darn!!!

Yet, the indomitable spirit of the heroes within refused to give in without a fight. We punched our way right back into the quiz with a couple of rapid answers in the last round, only to stop an agonizing 5 points behind the runners-up.

Nevertheless, at the end of the day, we got our share of the booty, and I was mighty pleased I didn’t sleep this Sunday afternoon away. What’s more, the compilation of speeches and letters of JRD Tata is a wonderful gift and I’m going to cherish the leather-bound books for a long, long time (not to mention the other cool stuff that I got, including a 1GB pen-drive and a travel bag. I initially didn't plan on mentioning the spoils of the day, but hey, it's not everyday that you get to do well in a quiz, do you?)

(Me and Rahul Srigyan cherishing the moments of The Tata Crucible Quiz 2007)

Subtraction by carry-over method

On Wednesday, I met up with my sister for a cup of coffee at the Barista outlet on Camac Street. The last time I met her, she still looked like a kid. Somehow, this time she seemed more mature. On my saying so, she just smiled and told me that it wasn’t maturity that was showing on her face, it was just that she had aged considerably since the last time we met.

Well documented references to emotional outbursts of the female species on uncomplimentary remarks about beauty and ageing started shooting around my head. In a classic reference to the movie 300, I told myself “Choose your next words carefully, for they may well be your last.”

Fortunately, the crisis was past even as I gulped and thankfully noted the absence of ancient wells which looked more like holes in the ground. My sister just looked at me and said, “This is because of the job that I’ve taken up.”

“Hey,” I said. “How tough could it be to teach mathematics to children of classes 1, 2 and 3?”

Turns out, its quite a handful. Apparently, the laws of subtraction by carry-over method are confusing to the simplified world of kids. My sister proceeded to fill me in on how she managed to break down the task and first involve the kids in practicing the subtraction by carry-over method for 2-digit numbers and then gently progress to the demonic 3-digit numbers.

And it is not as if the kids are without their share of naughtiness. “I get eve-teased by 8 year olds,” my sis giggled. On the recently conducted Independence Day festivities, 5 or 6 of these Lilliputians surrounded my sis and started going around in circles, shouting their young throats dry while singing “Nanna munna raahi hoon…”; a song my sister had taught them only a couple of days ago.

Sleeping Woes

I’ve often wondered what the correct method of sleeping is. It might seem to be the simplest thing to do, but then again, there can be so many complications.

First of all, there is the whole issue of which position to lie down in. There is the famous Baba Ramdev promoted manner of lying down on the left side of the body, with your knees slightly bent. Others say that at the time of sleeping, there should be no pressure applied on the stomach, and hence the best position to sleep in is on your back. Then there are others, like me, who don’t give a care to what the world says and just collapse on the bed when going off to sleep and hence, spend the night lying on the stomach. In fact, most of the times, when I wake up in the morning, I’m usually in the classic ‘dead man’s pose’, my hand and legs spread out, as if waiting for a detective to come and draw a chalk-line around the outline of my body.

Then there is the issue of the duration of sleep. Some say that 6 hours of sleep is the ideal amount. The latest issue of a leading national magazine says experts recommend 8 hours of sleep, failing which the body tends to accumulate ‘lost sleeping hours’, thereby having an irritated nervous system. Tell that to Chanakya, who advised that a king should sleep only for 4 hours each night.

A related issue is the hour at which one should go off to sleep. You see, if one wishes to wake up each morning at 6 (given that the individual is a normal working guy who wishes to reach office by 9), then in order to have completed 8 hours of sleep, he needs to go off to sleep each night at 10. Now, given the lifestyle led by most people that I know, not to mention myself, going off to sleep at 10 is an extremely optimistic notion. But, according to the coaching manual of Charles Atlas, the famous bodybuilder, there ain’t nothing better than going off to sleep at 10. In fact, he goes so far as to say that every hour of sleep before midnight is worth twice as much as every hour slept after midnight. Hmm…

And now, the most important issue to be tackled; the last thoughts before you go off to sleep.

It is surprising how few people I know who actually make it a point to say their prayers in bed before turning in for the night. The most famous image that comes to mind is, of course, that of Dennis ‘The Menace’ Mitchell saying his innocent and full of boyish-mischief prayers.

Another interesting idea came to be a few nights ago when I received a SMS from a friend. We had met up earlier in the day and the meeting had been full of the usual childish efforts of getting one-up on the other, as is the norm when you meet up with childhood friends. Anyway, she messaged me to say that she wanted to apologize for any harsh words she might have said to me during our banter. After mildly scolding her for even thinking she might have offended me, I asked her what made her think about the incident at that unearthly hour. She said she was about to go off to sleep and was just recalling the day’s events before nodding off. “Now that’s a healthy habit,” I said to myself.

And finally, something that I discovered about sleep just yesterday. For some time now, there has been an unpleasant eventuality that I have been avoiding. Yet, in a very strange way, I want the eventuality to occur. I know the incident, the eventuality, if it were to happen would definitely cause me a lot of heartburn and pain. But, being the illogical person that I am (at times), I want the eventuality to happen as I have a nagging feeling that it might just be best for me to get over it.

So, last night, just as I lay down in my bed to go off to sleep, I began to wonder how it would be if the eventuality were to actually happen. Call it a ‘dry run’ if you will, but I could feel the emotions, the pain and the reactions that I would feel if I were to go through the happening. What the most curious part about this is that I don’t recall when I drifted off to sleep. And when I did wake up today morning, I felt that I’d slept the most sound and deep sleep that I’ve slept in over a year now.

Treacherous thoughts, I know. But then, hey, that’s me.

Chak de, yaar. Too much of this post. India has posted 664 at the Oval and is in a commanding position. I’d better head back to the television to see England’s response. Heck, they’re already four wickets down…

2nd Anniversary: HAPPY BIRTHDAY BLOG

Two years ago, on this very date, late at night, I had set out to finish an Organisational Behavior (OB) project that had been set by the faculty at my b-school. As it happened, earlier in the day, the marketing faculty had introduced us to the world of blogs. Curious, I logged on to the Net and registered myself on Blogger.

What has resulted since then have been 2 years and nearly 200 posts (this one is post number 196) of an outpouring of outright honesty from yours truly.

A very B-I-G thank you to all the readers of this blog and those who leave a comment back here. Each comment is special, since each comment tells me that my words have had some impact somewhere and some individual has thought it worthwhile to interact and share their own ideas.

THANKS A TON READERS !! :)

And of course, HAPPY BIRTHDAY dear blog. You've been a wonderful friend.

Inheritance

Man is not judged on the basis of what he has inherited - physically, mentally or spiritually. It is how much he has moved ahead given his set of circumstances that determine his place of standing among fellow human beings. The cosmos asks not what your forefathers left you - what they left you was of their own making, their karma.

What have you achieved?

Have you, with the loser's backbone, decided to sit in a corner and mope about how unfair life has been to you, even as the world around you passes by laughing, or have you been a man in the truest sense of the word, picked up your belongings, stood up tall and addressed the world thus, "I shall make my own destiny."

Of course there will be difficulties. Naysayers abound will doubt your very reason to exist, people will mock and laugh at you, at your weakling-like efforts to stand up. It is for you to show the world that the small steps you take towards shaping your future are not going to be enfeebled with thoughts of self-doubt, but are only the precursor to earth-trembling footsteps of a giant.

"Arise, awake and stop not till the goal is reached!"

El Mariachi (1992)

Robert Rodriguez’s first film in his ‘Mariachi trilogy’, ‘El Mariachi’ was a great hit when released with appropriate fanfare in the US. However, the film left me disappointed.

The film is about a wandering musician, a wandering Mariachi, who reaches a town in search of a job. Unfortunately for him, the local don’s men are on the lookout for a gangster whose appearance is the same as that of our mariachi’s; dressed in black and carrying a guitar case. There is only one difference between the two, the gangster’s guitar case opens to reveal guns and knives instead of a harmless guitar.

Caught in the middle of a case of mistaken identity, our hero seeks shelter at a local bar. Here, he strums the strings of his guitar as well as the strings of the heart of the girl who runs the bar. His time, however, finally runs out and through tragic consequences all three (the hero, the bar-girl and the gangster) end up at the don’s hideout.

The film disappoints because of the way in which it is shot. The low-budget that went into its production is evident everywhere throughout the film. The sequences where the characters in the film start moving in fast-forward mode are disappointingly hilarious. The scene where the hero manages to get two gangsters to shoot at each other seems like right out of a Hindi action film of the early 90s.

Another drawback is the very simple question as to why the don couldn’t describe to his men the gangster who is out to seek revenge? The gangster is fat and dons a moustache, much different from a tidy and ‘chocolate-hero’ Mariachi.

However, the manner in which the film ends is cool. The turtle on the highway, both at the opening and at the closing of the film is an indicator of the class of the director-scriptwriter.

All in all, this is a time-pass film. At least, you can have claimed to have watched the predecessor to ‘Desperado’ and ‘Once Upon A Time In Mexico’, the other two films in the ‘Mariachi trilogy’.

Top 5 reasons to stay single

1. You are not woken up on lazy Saturday mornings by your girlfriend's phone call. You are not compelled to jump out of bed, hit the shower, have a hasty breakfast that Mom has prepared, take a cab and reach a cafe 2 kms away (all of this in 20 minutes in order to avoid confrontation with Madame), just to have “where things are headed between us" chat over a 40 buck cappuccino.

2. When you receive your salary, you just look at the entire amount and know that you can spend all of it on all the crazy stuff that you always wanted to spend on: iPod, a 320GB external hard disk, hi-speed modem, clothes (of your liking), books, paragliding, rock climbing, etc.

3. You can walk into any mall without worrying about bumping into relatives of either party; relatives who flash that ‘gotcha’ smile and relish at the thought of adding sugar and spice and narrating the chance meeting to your parents.

4. On weekend evenings, all you have to do is sigh and smile to yourself at all the quality time that you have to yourself. You can either immerse yourself in a well chosen book or borrow the DVD of that western that you always wanted to see but could never watch (‘coz she could never appreciate “The Good, The Bad and The Ugly” in any case).

5. You can drink yourself to your heart's content without worrying about how you'll defend yourself in the next 48 hours. Yes, yes, I do agree drinking too much is bad, but the occasional drink never did anybody any harm. What is harmful is the “I told you not to drink” lecture sessions that follow.

A Few Magical Moments

Now, the following isn’t a verbatim account. Yet, an attempt has been made to capture the magic that a cricket lover feels when watching a ‘true’ cricket broadcast.

Magic Moment No. 1

(The opening moments of the live coverage of the first day of the India vs. England Test match at Lord’s. Camera pans out from the pitch at the Lord’s cricket ground to show Harsha Bhogle standing at the boundary ropes.)

Harsha: “In 1932, it was this very turf on which C. K. Nayudu led out the first Indian cricket team to play a test match on English soil. Seven decades down the line, Rahul Dravid will lead out his team to play yet another fascinating Test match series against the English hosts. ~pause~ Welcome to the nPower India vs. England Test series, the first match of which will be played here at Lord’s."

Magic Moment No. 2

(India’s opening bowlers, Zaheer Khan and Sreesanth, have been bowling either too wide or too short at the England opening pair of Andrew Strauss and Alistair Cook. Even as the commentators are discussing this, the camera catches Richie Benaud and his wife sitting in the member's stand. Richie Benaud is animatedly speaking to his wife with his hands moving in what could only be a bowling action.)

Alan Wilkins: "Oh look, there's Mr. and Mrs. Richie Benaud. ~pause~ (impersonating Benaud) You see Daphne, they're bowling too short..."

Magic Moment No. 3

(Lunch session on first day and the commentary team in the media box are speculating exactly how much the slope of the turf at Lord's can help or unsettle a fast bowler. Ravi Shastri, Nasser Hussain and Harsha Bhogle are in the media centre while Ian Chappell is standing at the boundary line.

The commentators in the box have just educated the TV audience that the ground slopes downwards from the Pavilion End to the Nursery End. Therefore, a fast bowler bowling from the Pavilion End would send the ball down with greater force.)

Ravi Shastri: "Now Ian, you were the captain when Australia toured here in 1971, and you had Dennis Lillee bowling for you. Which end did he bowl from, the Nursery End or the Pavilion End?"

Ian Chappell: "Actually Ravi, it was 1972. And to take Dennis Lillee AWAY from the Pavilion End would be like taking away a bone from a bulldog..."

~Ravi Shastri and Harsha Bhogle can be heard chuckling~


Magic Moment No. 4

Harsha Bhogle (reading out a piece of cricketing trivia which has just popped up on screen): "Andrew Strauss was close to scoring a century in both innings of his first Test match. He scored a 100 in the first innings and was run out on 83 in the second innings by Nasser Hussain. ~turns towards Nasser Husssain, who is also commentating at the time, with a wide grin~ Why did you do that Nasser?

Nasser: "'Coz he threatened my position. So I said, 'Off you go, lad', and back he went to the pavilion after getting run out. And by then, I too realised that my end was near so I retired that very match and walked back into the pavilion and retired into the sunset."


Magic Moment No. 5

(Quite suddenly, Lord's is enveloped in one of those silences which recur with regularity at English cricket grounds.)

Harsha: It's all gone quiet out there....even behind the stumps.

~camera pans in to show Matt Prior~

Ravi Shastri: "Not for long, Harsha, not for long. Wicket-keepers around the world are notorious for being vociferous. Sangakarra in particular... he can get very noisy. How about you Graham?"

Graham Gooch: "I don't know about noisy.. but when I used to be batting in the Caribbean, I used to look back and there I would have Jeff Dujon just look at me and smile. I mean, he would just look at me and smile. ~pause~ And why not, he could afford to. When you have the top four most fearsome bowlers on the planet playing on your side, all you need to do is smile at the opposite team's batsman."

Rants of an Indian cricket fan

India hangs on to a string of hope at Lord’s. As I write this, India is 282/9 chasing a target of 380. Thankfully, bad light has stopped play as of now but there’s no telling when the weather conditions will improve.

However, I’m pretty happy with this Test match. India’s precarious condition aside, this Test match was a joy to watch because of one very simple reason: the England series is being covered on the newly launched Star Cricket.

For someone like me who enjoys his bit of classic cricketing action, you have no idea how B-I-G a relief it is to see a proper cricketing show; a show which is hosted by Harsha Bhogle (someone who knows more than a thing or two about cricket) and an expert panel which boasts of names such as Sunil Gavaskar, Ravi Shastri, David Lloyd, Nasser Hussain, Graham Gooch and (best of all) Ian Chappell. With a line-up like that, one doesn’t mind the odd snippet presented by Gautam Bhimani during lunch breaks.

This, as anyone who has torn his hair watching the cricket coverage on Set Max, is a great saviour. Let me enumerate the reasons why I disliked ‘Extraaaaa Innings’ (I hope I got the correct number of a’s in the Extra.)

• One no longer has to put up with Miss Always-Controversially-Draped Mandira Bedi. Apart from the fact that she is an eyesore during a program which is primarily supposed to discuss cricket, the lady, I am sorry to say, hasn’t significantly improved on her chest (pun intended) of cricketing knowledge since the time of the 2003 Cricket World Cup.

• There’s no more Charu Sharma around who concentrates more on constantly blabbering instead of asking cricket-related queries to people like Ian Chappell and Arjuna Ranatunga. Like my good friend Chatur pointed out the other day over a chat on the telephone, Charu Sharma would often cut short Chappell and others who were talking good cricketing sense. And oh, I almost forgot, there’ll be no more of his stupid grin when he stares/ogles at whatever cleavage Miss Bedi has on offer for the world.

• The painful experience of having to listen to Ma Prem Ritambhara and others of her ilk is now, hopefully, a thing of the past. There’ll be less of fat women in clothes with outrageous colour combinations holding a conversation on how the ‘omens seem to be against the Indian cricket team but if a 100 million Indians pray for our boys, the good vibes might influence the performance of 11 individuals in the Caribbean’.

• The cricket lover will be spared the expert comments of people like Atul Wassan, Ranjit Fernando and Ian Bishop. Oh trust me there are a lot more where these came from. It’s just that I’ve somehow miraculously (and thankfully) erased my traumatic memories of the mostly disastrous commentary team on Set Max. Personally, there used to be moments when I would mute the television while watching cricket when the aforementioned esteemed gentlemen aired their comments about what was wrong with the cricketing world.

• A BIG relief is the manner in which commercials are shown between the overs. Set Max was not only notorious, but they were shameful in the manner in which they showed these commercials. Hardly would the last ball of an over have been played by the batsman than when the commercial would start playing. There were even some ridiculous and extremely frustrating moments when the commentator hadn’t even mentioned the score of the batting team at the end of the over and the picture would fade away into a commercial break.

All I can do now is look heavenwards and pray for two things. One, please let Star Cricket get the rights to the major cricketing action for the next few years at least. And two, of course, please either let there be more ‘bad light’ or rain at Lord’s so that India may be able to save the Test match.

P.S. I was originally also intending to speak about certain moments during the current coverage on Star Cricket. These were what I would call moments of ‘glorious cricket coverage’, for instance, the occasion when the camera caught Mr. and Mrs. Richie Benaud watching the first day of the Test Match. More of such beautiful moments in my next post.

Why I love my current job

There’s a scene in ‘The Lord of the Rings: The Fellowship of the Ring’ where Sam suddenly stops in the middle of a field and exclaims, “This is it.” When Frodo asks him what it is that has made Sam pause in his tracks, he says, “One step more and I’ll never have been further away from home.” Frodo kindly smiles at his trusted friend, and eggs him on with words of encouragement.

The best part about having the work profile that I have currently is that I am in Sam’s shoes almost every second day. I remember thinking this way when I took the flight to Delhi and now, when I’m in Calcutta and have to explore the fringe parts of this city, I look back at each day as a day when I’ve explored some new land, met some new people, interacted with people with experiences different from my own, and have shared cultures slightly different from the ones which I’ve observed since my childhood. It is as if I visit a new world every third day.

Marketing rocks! No offence to people who slog away in cubicles, but I would much rather have it this way than any other way.

You ask me why I tap my trouser pockets??

THE NERVOUS TROUSER-POCKET TAPPER

As of the last 24 hours, every few minutes, I nervously keep tapping my trouser pockets. To the uninformed spectator, it might seem to be an odd habit bordering on the vulgar, but there’s a much, much deeper reason than you might want to conjecture (No vulgar puns intended).

You see, yesterday morning, I took the Metro train from Netaji Bhawan to Shobha Bazar. Once at Shobha Bazaar, I needed to take an auto-rickshaw to reach my office building. A few minutes after I got down at Ultadanga (the place where my office is situated), I realised that one of the cell-phones that I was carrying was missing. As luck would have it, not only was the missing instrument the more expensive one of the two, but also the one in which all the details of my friends’ contact numbers were saved. Had I been part of a Ramanand Sagar production, there surely would have been lightning striking over my head accompanied with the sound of distant thunder.

Fortunately, when I called up the missing cell-phone, the honest auto-rickshaw driver told me to reach the place where I had initially boarded the auto, i.e. at the Shobha Bazar Metro station. Turned out that he was a part of some local auto-rickshaw drivers’ association, which believed in handing back lost items. *phew* Thank God!!

After a long, long wait (an hour, to be precise), I was told to prove that the cell-phone indeed belonged to me. Once that was done, the auto-rickshaw drivers almost ganged up and asked me for whatever sum that I felt I should “reward” the driver with. I ended up giving them Rs. 100 instead of the Rs. 200 that they were ‘politely asking’ for. No issues, considering that the phone costs approximately a third of my current monthly salary!!!

So, the next time you spot a stranger tapping his trouser pocket nervously, don't give him an ugly glare... just give him a sympathetic smile if you must.

THE TENNIS PLAYER

One female I’m really impressed with is Ms. Ana Ivanovic. For those who just went “Err…”, she is the female who has exited from the Wimbledon barely an hour ago. She lost to Venus Williams at the quarter-finals, but tell you what, I’m impressed with what I see.

(And by the way, what I see is this...)

(Photo courtesy of the Sony Ericsson WTA Tour)

Now, now…don’t raise those eyebrows, hear me out.

Day before yesterday, I saw Ms. Vaidisova overcome Amelie Mauresmo, and I was genuinely impressed with the manner in which she didn’t get overwhelmed by the fact that she was facing the defending champion. However, she was not at all her composed self yesterday when she played against Ana Ivanovic.

Then again, she had played well and was on the verge of winning the match at one point of time. In fact, she had 2 match points in her kitty. But Ivanovic comprehensively outplayed her and denied her a place in the quarter finals. I was impressed with the body language and the confidence with which Ana clawed her way back into the match. Certainly, a player with a lot and lot of promise. She wasn’t seeded 6^th for nothing.

KAR LO KUCHH AUR BHI MUTTHI MEIN

And finally, all those of you who only think of a major cellular phone service provider from India when you hear/see the letters RIM, spare a thought for this:

(Spotted in a display window in a neighbourhood shop in Salt Lake, Calcutta: RIM Playing Cards)

Like I said, time to get something else in your 'mutthi'.

[P.S. Hey, I didn't top my B-school paper on Rural Marketing for nothing. After all, 'spurious brands' was very much a part of that paper :D ]

Calcutta - Mumbai - Delhi - Calcutta

Sitting in a waterlogged Calcutta, I ruminate at how my world has almost come full circle in the last one month. Almost a month ago, I left Calcutta wondering when I would be visiting this place again. I thought it would only be in November when I would come back for a friend’s wedding…but then, life has funny ways of it own.

My company’s induction programme was held in Mumbai and we were treated like royalty throughout our week’s stay. This treatment would only continue once we reached Delhi, the city where I was sent as a part of an 11-member team for ‘circle familiarization’.

The Delhi experience was both, fun and educational. We went through the various business units and the various processes that are in place. Evenings would either be spent reading a book or watching a movie on a friend’s laptop or just chilling out at the malls at sector 18 in Noida.

Perhaps the best part about being at Noida was the fact that we were hanging around in a group. Although it had barely been a week since all 11 of us had met each other, the fact that we all came from similar educational backgrounds and with the same set of fears, jitters and expectations at the beginning of a career helped us to bond.

Coming back to Calcutta was unexpected and fun. I must admit that I was slightly disappointed that I would be back in my ‘comfort zone’ and hence, would be receiving my doses of “worldly learning” in limited amounts. However, home is still…well, home. No matter how much you crib or complain, there’s always a little child who smiles at memories of a city he’s grown up in.

And the recent downpour just gives you a ‘picture-perfect’ opportunity to realize why you like this city.

Waterlogged AJC Bose Road. This is right under the flyover that connects the Race Course to Park Circus. By the way, at the time of taking this pic, I'm standing ON the green railing that you see. The water to the right is knee-deep.

"Rain rain, come again..." A man enjoys an impromptu swim on his way home.

"Row, row your boat...err...car!!"
The car actually floated idly with every wave of water that was displaced by the buses passing by.

I thought I was the only one mad enough to take my cell phone out and take pictures of the city as it was on Tuesday morning. Turns out I was wrong. The gentleman seated in the rickshaw was doing the same, unknown to the poor rickshaw-walla who was carrying the heavy load.

Krishna

Here is an excerpt from the book that I have been reading of late, "The Great Indian Novel" by Shashi Tharoor. The words almost capture the mental image that I have of Lord Krishna. Certainly one of the more wonderful descriptions that I've read of Him...

"From an early age Krishna had the rare talent of being able to talk to people at their own level. He was equally at home teasing the milkmaids while they bathed in the river as when debating the theory of permanent revolution with the local Mau-Maoists. He would disarm them all with his laughing good nature, then resolve the point at issue through the utterance of a perception so startling in its clarity and simplicity that it made all further argument otiose. And he would invariably get his way with members of either group.

This was not surprising, for the most striking thing about Krishna was his joyousness. He was always relaxed, always laughing, full of innocent mischief that never quite obscured his deep, instinctual wisdom. The wisdom was always apparent, despite the laughter, and it was not a wisdom acquired through learning or even through experience, but something that arose from deep within himself, as if from the very earth he stood on. Yet Krishna wore his wisdom lightly: he expressed it with a simplicity so profound that it did not seem to recognize the depths from which it sprang."

Rappling

I mentioned as my last quirk how much I liked heights and how they always thrilled me. So, how do you think I felt when I experienced THIS as a part of the outbound workshop?? :D

(pic courtesy: Nikhil Naik)

The Outbound Workshop

I have had a fun two days at the outbound training workshop that our company organised. We were taken to a resort in the sylvan outskirts of Thane. Once there, I made a number of good friends and also relished the fact that I was once again close to nature (twice in the Maharashtra countryside within a year!! Hmm…). What’s more, there was a swimming pool at the resort, and I thoroughly enjoyed the dip into a swimming pool after a gap of two years.

Let me share with you two moments of the outbound trip that made me reflect.

The Wrong Turn

After a morning of warm-up exercises (~sigh~ they were NOTHING compared to the kind of warm-ups I used to do before my practise runs), I was in a mood to explore the countryside. I must thank Nike; if it were not for him, I would’ve wandered off alone and have missed out on some fantastic company. It was Nike who asked a group of people whether they were interested on a morning walk to a nearby river and of course, there quite a few enthusiastic takers.

Off we went then, just a group of young people out to explore the world. We took a number of twists and turns, on muddy tracks, past fields and mud-houses with thatched roofs and some beautiful countryside. Villagers going about their everyday lives in a simple and honest manner were an absolute joy to watch.

And then, at this juncture where the muddy tracks of the simple villagers met the concrete roads of modern civilization, we took a wrong turn.

We kept walking in the wrong direction for a while till we asked these two men who we met on the road for clarification about our direction and our ultimate destination. We were told we needed to take a u-turn in order to reach the river.

And even as we walked back on the now correct path, I couldn’t help smiling to myself.

After all, what could be better than course-correction, irrespective of whether it is done in your life or simply on a fine Sunday morning?

The Drop

Later in the day, as I lay down on the cool green grass of the lawn that covered a significant area of the resort, I could hear the chirping of the sparrows in the trees nearby. I smiled and was greeted a fine ‘good evening’ with the gentle breeze that blew that very instant, and resulted in a endearing rustle of leaves.

~plop~

A drop of water fell on my face and I shifted my gaze towards the sky. There was a beautiful cloud formation right above us. Amazingly, this patch of grey clouds seemed friendly rather than threatening and for an instant I felt as if it were smiling down at me (I swear I wasn’t doped!)

~plop~

Another drop of water landed on my forehead. And as I continued to stare heavenwards, I could see hundreds of tiny droplets gently dropping towards me, as if they had been waiting to rush towards me and ask with a smile, “Isn’t this a beautiful planet?”

Some day, dear friend, if you ever get the opportunity, lie down on the grass and look up at the sky and feel the limitless universe.