Cricket - Whom to blame???

Indian cricket association and few more countries were protesting for the entry of (before World Cup '07) mediocre team (viz. Bangladesh, Ireland, Netherlands, etc) to play in world cup. And were saying that they are no good to the world cup and wastage of time [Source: News Channels]. And when Indian team played against Bangladesh, "Ho ha India... aaya India became ho ha India...tata India".So the funny part was, a mediocre team(Bangladesh) showed them way out and other mediocre team(Bermuda) tried there best to get a win over Bangladesh so that India can go to super8... he he he Anyway Indian team learned the lesson that " don't ever take the opponent lightly"

( दुश्मन को कभी कमजोर नहीं समझना चाहिऐ ")

After India's loss against Bangladesh I was thinking who will be blamed for loss?Sachine? Dravid? Harbhajan? Ganguly? Or Chappel? And suddenly a message beeped in my cell. Message body said "person solely responsible for India's disastrous loss against Bangladesh is Mrs. Indira Gandhi as she only created Bangladesh." he he he

Then came the next match India against Bermuda. It was an easy win. Even Dravid was able to hit a six in the match (rare occasion). India won so no one was blamed. People became too optimistic, and thought that India will win over Srilanka and will enter to super8 and infact will win the world cup for India. But alas... India loosed the match in a most dishonored way. But wait here also we can't blame Indian team for loosing the match. Person responsible was 'HANUMAN', a character from Hindu mythology. How? Well he only didn't destroyed srilanka completely though he could have. (People who read/saw Ramayana they know about it.) he he he

India chances were nil in REALITY. But Indian and in fact Indian cricketers too were looking forward to the last match between Bermuda and Bangladesh. If Bermuda could have won(which was sort of miracle as Bermuda stands no were in cricketing world) India(cricket team) could have entered into the super8 and ultimately could have won the cup. But Bermuda didn't play well. Grr.. So they are ultimately responsible for Indian team exit... he he he

so over all I guess we can say Mrs. Indira Gandhi, Hanuman and Bermuda can be blamed for this shameful exit from the World Cup. Not the cricketer as they are THE best and increase the sales by giving flashy ads, which make people to buy those products, ultimately working for India's growth. So at least they were doing something. But shameful as this is the only game where India is taken as a challenge. In rest of the game they just go to REPRESENT a billion people country.. he he he.. And also due to them(Mrs.Indira Gandhi,Hanuman and Bermuda players), Indian cricketers are in problem. Now who will make these POOR cricketers, brand ambassador, who will buy the product supported by them. And how they can give there IMPORTANT input to india..

I guess ICC started this SUPER8 funda so as to make world so call best team to fight against each other and also to earn more money. As during those days of SUPER6, TWO good teams were generally left out(seems like that). But alas this also didn't help at all. Guess from next time they will come up with idea of SUPER12 or SUPER10... he he he

But wait this is not the end. Why to leave blaming ENGLAND. They were the people who started cricket in India. And if I believe the movie 'LAGAAN' as true historic event, then the person who was impersonated by AAMIR KHAN should be blamed for all this mishap. He only made people to think winning a CRICKET match(not hockey, football etc) is TOO EASY and also can be a mode to get rid of all there problem(as they were given freedom to pay the tax for three years by winning a SINGLE game).

On serious note, I guess the time has come to look at other games too. As too much of cricket has blocked the growth of other games. And to revive them so that we can stand somewhere in other games too. which will be better then being NOWHERE in ANY game. :)

Untitled

Raj couldn't control his tears. It was the worst possible thing which could have happened to him.. "She was my first love" - he wailed inconsolably.. He thought of all the good times they had spent together - all the mornings when he woke up in her smiling face, the lonely evenings in which she gave him company, their first visit to the beach, the smile on her face when he told her that he had topped the class , the passion with which he argued with his sister when they chose a dress for her..everything.... "Tchh Tchh .. Dont cry beta .. We will find u a better companion" - consoled mom.. "No amma, she was my first love .. Remember the time when akka didn't like her and i had to convince her, remember how i felt angry when all the boys made fun of me 'going out' with her !! You think these moments would ever come back ??". His mom sighed .. "Yes, Dad could have been a little more careful. Such a love story coming to a premature climax !!. Dont worry beta, dad's pretty upset about it as well. I don't know what more to say !!".. "Hmm.." thought Raj, "like all love stories the parents(specially the dad) played the villain in this one too. Look at him, does he repent even a bit ??". His dad was chuckling - "Hey grow up beta .. How long will you play with her. Look at her, she's as old as you now.. A fourteen year old boy playing with a barbie doll.. He hee ... ". Raj sighed !! "Parents ...." he started sobbing again ...

(Amma - Mother
Akka - elder sister in Tamil)

The room...

I don’t know what made me open the door..and go inside. It’s not everyday that I go visiting this place. The place was a room full of rooms...a maze in fact!
There was a time when I used to visit this place often..go through the stuff stored here..and gaze wistfully into the empty rooms…the view always breath taking...
Now as I opened the door...it creaked...unused for so many days; the door groaned almost as if it were surprised into life!
I had almost forgotten how nice it was…visiting this place. I opened and walked into one room...and something caught my eye....and I was surprised to see a small footprint...as I bent closer to observe, I realized with a shock that this was the imprint of the first ever step I took! Funny...I don’t remember that...and it’s imprint still so nicely preserved...
I was uneasy and joyous at the same time...I imagined a plump lil kid...trying to stand...and dropping on its bottom...a few times...before shakily moving forward and the surprise and joy of my mom who had witnessed it!
I saw multitude of boxes...and I realized that each of these boxes held something about me…some forgotten piece of memory...
I gingerly opened a small box...and found one half eaten lollipop...and I was drawn back to that place where I was but a child running to the corner "pille angadi" to buy Cadbury’s lollipop...I could feel the sugary sweet chocolate taste of that lollipop which had a chimp's face on its wrap!
The lollipop would leave my lips sticky and I hear my mom cajoling me to go wash my face...
I gently smile…close the lid on that cherished symbol of my childhood and look around...for something else to catch my eye! Then my eyes fell on a white skirt…and with a gasp I realized that it was my fav "juhi chawla" skirt. Above knee length, it would teasingly swirl every time I moved. I used to wear it everyday...and was so proud of it....I touched it..to make sure whether it was still as soft...it was! Funny...this childhood skirt…back in that room was perfect, untouched by the years...I touched the white material to my cheek to feel its softness! then I laid it back and opened a big wooden box with beautiful engravings on its lid...
It held in its bosom many paraphernalia of my childhood...the marbles I stole from my brother...the small kitchen set I used to play mommy with...the ugly earrings my dad had bought in Agra(which was so dear to me)...my green frock with umbrella cut...and so many others...

I reluctantly came out of this room...and opened the next door. There I was sitting under the shade of our old guava tree and parijaatha tree... on the weather worn bench...sitting and biting my pen ,trying to understand the complexity of algebra. Short boy cut hair held behind by a hair band, big teeth each growing in its own direction...and hero (my dog) at my feet, I had no enemy in the world but algebra.
I smiled at her, felt relieved that I didn’t have to do those algebra sums again.

In the next room...instead of opening the door...I just peered in thru the window.
I saw two gals sleeping in the tent…but with their heads out of the flap so that their heads were actually out of the tent.
They both were gazing into the ink blue sky…with a galaxy of stars staring back at them. They were not close…they didn’t even like each other..but for that perfect night which they shared..for that moment they were best friends.
They listened to the sounds of the nights..the crickets...the rustle of wind against the trees..and the sound of flowing water..which eerily sounded like someone chuckling!
The long silences were peppered with some conversations..on general topics..but they let the silence comfort them.one would hum a song and the other would join in...the gal playing with her hair..singing a romantic number..who wished that time would stay still..was me.

I kept passing from room to room...sometimes peering through the window..sometimes opening and going in...
In one room I saw myself weeping my heart out...when I had missed my SSLC rank by a few marks...I was inconsolable....I smiled at what seemed like childishness to me now...crying over some paltry marks. I wanted to go tell the sobbing gal
not to worry...but I decided against it and went towards the next door...and I saw myself sitting in the window..with
a mug of tea..looking outside at the rain...content with life.
In one room were my memories about my friends...gals lying beside each other giggling about some nonsensical thing....having breakfasts together..and sleeping with our legs on each other...and shopping for birthday presents
As if out of curiosity..I walked towards the other end...and saw the empty rooms...each wore an air of expectation..of anticipation..of hope; and I wondered that after some time..these rooms too would have stories to tell..smells,pictures...to remind me of my blessed existence.
And I realized that this is a place I would always love to visit...for I see my tomorrow..in these little snippets of my past.
I see the past and future merge....and somehow that gave me curious sense of well being...a feeling of completion.

I slowly walked out...locked those gates...and walked out of the maze that I call my mind...

In a 'Online' World !!

There was a significant event two weeks ago - The HINDU launched it's e-paper. Well, what's new with that, you may ask .. After all all newspapers have their e-editions. Well, the HINDU signifies something more than a newspaper to me.. It's the epitome of journalistic excellance and my mornings aren't the same without the Hindu and a hot cup of coffee. Well, this leads us to the next question - In an online world, what's the future of the published stuff ?? And in an era where newspapers are being read online, will books soon become the next casuality ?? Well, me for one doesn't think so .. A book is much more than a collection of written words.. It has a entire charm about it ..The touch, the feel and the sheer joy of reading a paper back curled in your sofa or in a long journey to work can never be replaced by these e-books. Well atleast until they develop the next big thing in eBook Readers !! Hope the coming generations still appreciate the good ol' paperback !!

On that note, here's the TIME All time Top 100 novels list . How many have you read ??

different routes...same destinations

The road:
He stood there in the evening light basking him in an ethereal golden light. He stood in front of the photo frame lost in thought.Tomorrow would be his 25th wedding anniversary…and his wife and children had gone out for shopping.The whole air was festive..and he was here feeling a lil nostalgic….guess age was catching up with him! He took the photo frame and went and sat on the easy chair…and looked at the young man and woman..standing uncomfortably beside each other…and he smiled thinking that it almost seemed impossible that he had spent 25 years of life with this woman. It seemed strange that even after 25 years of life together..he didn’t know whether he loved her. He cared about her..he was used to her…depended on her..but did he love her? He didn’t have anything against her…only that when he got married to her…he was still nursing a broken heart…and at that time..she seemed as good as any to get married. She was not the woman of his dreams..of that he was sure. He had wanted a spirited spunky rebel …and he had found her to be patient, soft spoken and content. In the beginning it irritated him to no extent …but slowly he had grown accustomed to her gentle smiles..her understanding ways. He had been in love with a beautiful girl..full of life..very talented..high-spirited.But as expected she didn’t love him back. His inexperienced heart could not take the rejection. In spite of all the hurt..he couldn’t help continuing to loving her. To him she stood for all that symbolized womanhood-beauty, spirit and unpredictability. When his practical side intervened and he married…his wife seemed too docile…too bland; he couldn’t help comparing..this tongue tied shy girl to his outspoken sweetheart… Slowly the memory of that enchantress faded..and caught in the hum-drum of life, he packed his memories..swept the pieces of his broken heart into one corner..and went ahead with useless things..which constitute our lives. Slowly he..got used to his new wife…he started noticing her little charming ways..the amused smile which hovered on her face..when she thought him stupid…the way she straightened out things…the way she would giggle reading her romance novels..her love for old Hindi classics..and the way she would hum in the kitchen…. He came very close to realizing how important she was to him..when they had their first baby…and slowly he started loving her..the long nights they put in for the baby…the way she always smiled…and these kind of little things…he didn’t know whether he was “in love” with her..but he loved her and wanted her in his life. Sometimes…when his daughter laughed..he would be reminded of the care-free laughter of the girl whom he had loved so intensely.
He did not regret his life…but sometimes…when he was alone..in the evening times..and the light was just so…he wondered…what would have happened if he had married her instead!
The other road: He stood there in the evening light basking him in an ethereal golden light. He stood in front of the photo frame lost in thought.Tomorrow would be his 25th wedding anniversary…and his wife and children had gone out for shopping.The whole air was festive..and he was here feeling a lil nostalgic….guess age was catching up with him! He took the photo frame and went and sat on the easy chair…and looked at the young man and woman..standing beside each other..their belief in love total…and he smiled thinking about the stupidity of young love…they had thought life would be a bed of roses…. Being in love was easy..but marriage was a different ball game all together.He remembered those days when he would wait for hours on end just to catch a glimpse of her…his ears always alert to catch her speak a word…her out spoken ways…her charming laugh…everything seemed perfect. There was this one small problem in his love story…she didn’t love him back. She considered him a good friend and nothing else. And her coldness hurt him more than he could believe. He continued to love her in spite of her indifference…. But age forces one to turn practical….and he conceded to his parents wishes and agreed to get married. He didn’t care whom he married..for in his broken heart…there wasn’t place for anyone but her! When he saw the prospective gal’s pic..she seemed like the typical Indian girl, parents choose for their sons. She seemed cowed..who would never pull a person’s leg…always pliant..always accommodating! But somehow in the way she held her head…told you she was made of sterner stuff! but he didn’t want a life with her. He knew from her pic that she would never throw back her head and laugh..or show her tongue to him!!! He ran out of his house..almost in panic…and found his love in the library reading some novel. He sat beside her and looked into her eyes and said “I want you..if you don’t say yes..i will spend my life trying to make you say”yes”..but a no is not anywhere in the picture”. She looked surprised..and then she broke out into uncontrolled laughter..and in between her giggles…said “ok..we will give it a shot!” And after that…..life seemed too perfect to his eyes. He loved everything about her-her vitality..her unpredictable nature…her volatile temper. Life with her seemed like a roller coaster ride. He had somehow convinced his parents..and they had gotten married. After sometime..he began to realize that a roller coaster ride may be fun but ride it for too long…it makes one nauseous. What was her quirky unpredictable nature after some time… seemed to him like sheer fickle mindedness… What was priorly spirited nature…seemed just like bad temper..but when she snuggled up to him..and nuzzled her nose against his..and said “forgive me?”…he could feel the old magic all over again. Life was fun…thrilling..and he never knew a moment’s peace. She would throw tantrums..but sometimes…sing for him in the moonlight..or put in notes telling how she loved the way he looked at her… She laughed like a small girl…and it seemed to him that he loved her most for that. They fought…they screamed at each other….but when they were happy they were blissfully so.life was intense…and every moment was worth it. When he married her, he was sure of the fact that he was madly in love with her…but 25 years had eroded his confidence. He cared about her; he wanted to be near her; he adored her…he was pretty sure ..when she laughed her reckless laugh..he loved her. But whether he was “in love “ with her..he was not sure anymore.. He smiled and rubbed his tired eyes..and thought..that’s what time does…takes away your “forever” sureties..and leaves you confused. He was content..he had no regrets..his cup of life was full. But sometimes…when he was alone..in the evening times..and the light was just so…he wondered..what would have happened if he had married the docile girl instead!

Red Earth And Pouring Rain

When I heard about it in 2001, I was really surprised that a tamil poem has found a place on the London Underground Poster Series. Years later, this poem was again in the news, Vikram Chandra had titled his novel based on this.

...I am wondering what the poet might have thought when he wrote it 2000 years ago. We don't even know his name. As was the custom, most poets in those times don't write their names on their poems. They rightfully thought that poetry and literature are for the masses. It has to be enjoyed freely. No questions of DRM or discussions about GPLv2 or GPLv3.

Literature really transcends boundaries of time, language and culture. I hope you would also enjoy this poem. To find more about poems on the underground, visit:

http://www.poetrysociety.org.uk/index.htm


What she said?

Chempulapeyanirar. Translated by A.K. Ramanujan

What could my mother be
to yours?
What kin is my father
to yours anyway?
And how
Did you and I meet ever?
But in love
our hearts have mingled
as red earth and pouring rain