What have I missed the most now?

Been about four months now, caught between a full time job and a jobless girl friend. Ok, a quick recap on what I have not missed in order to miss my blog.

CSK lost the finals (Won 50 bucks on it though!), disastrous ODI form for India, The fab four failing in Ceylon, Consolation ODI victory, Champions trophy down the drain, Symo gone fishing, Beach Volley Ball in Chennai, Best display at the Olympics(did blog about the Gold), Steady year for Karun, Back to back thrillers in the F1; Jeev, Leander and Saina making us proud, Centre-Left in the lurch, Bomb blasts across the length and breadth of my nation, Floods in Bihar, Power crisis in TN, Nano Technology by Mamata B, 1 Rupee PDS rice, Diesel crisis, friends getting married, few deaths, my first attrition wave, Promissory notes, five great books, all of Kevin Smith's movies, Jazz Louis Armstrong style, Withdrawal symptoms, the PF struggle and finally the Dell Rescission offer have all joined forces to kept me occupied and away from the blog.

I just finished watching a great movie half hour ago. I am impressed. I have lately been watching a lot of Tarantino and Kevin Smith's movies. So to be impressed by a Bollywood movie brings me immense joy. I would need to watch 'A Wednesday" again. I would watch it again, this time alone and without a girlfriend (who has a dumb boy friend!)

I promise to stay awake all night and watch her kind of movies, I promise to cook and do the dishes for the rest of my life, I promise to wear clean sneakers, I promise to buy the next dozen shirts in only shades of blue, I promise not to call her jobless, I promise to appreciate her sojourn, I promise not to forget Birthdays, I promise not to promise anymore.....

Je t'aime mon amour! et tu?

Gold for India!

Leander got the bronze, Rathore got us the silver and now Abhinav Bindra won the most elusive of sporting honour for India. He got us the gold medal in men's 10 metre air rifle event of the shooting competition at Beijing Olympics 2008 this morning.

The is very special as it is India's first individual gold, and the first Gold since Hockey Gold medal at the 1980 Moscow Olympic.

More updates to follow.......Words elude me when my heart is filled with joy!

Empty Wessels make the most noise.

Don’t we all hate them? The loudmouths, the ones that let the tongue wag, the ones that brag a little too much. I have been there too. Every time that I have done it, I have always come back and regretted it. Sometimes it is too difficult not to get carried away.

This post is a review of all those who made the noise. To see if they were worth their salt and to find out how many actually walked the talk!

All the noise that was made during the players’ auction could be limited to the Kolkata, Mohali and Bangalore sides. In the build up to the competition, King Khan continued to make a lot of noise and was matched decibel to decibel by the Deccan Chargers. SRK looks composed in defeat and has taken the beating well. I am still wondering what happened to the Special supplement that was being circulated free along with the Deccan Chronicle. I am still impressed with some great performances from that side. Dr. Mallaya has started talking about parties aboard his yacht and Mrs. Ecclestone’s birthday rather than the poor show at F1. I guess he has learnt his lessons about what not to talk.

Then of course we had Harbajan Singh who for once realized actions speak louder than words. His ouster from the tournament brought in a better captain and change in fortunes for the Mumbai Indians.

Dada made some noise about Warney, and the Australian inside Shane retorted. A great bowling performance throughout the tournament and a fine knock in the last game redeems Dada and the Kolkata Knight Riders. Sourav now truly deserves to repeat the antics of the Lord's balcony at the Eden Gardens and I promise not to say a word.

Shane “Pied Piper” Warne is a royalty in Rajasthan. He is the man with the Midas touch. Every team that plays against him turns to dust. His boys are all worth their weight in gold. Keeping with the tradition, let me, let him do whatever talking he has got to do. No comments on one Mr. John Marshall Buchanan from Queensland. I just have a kind request for him to shut up at the earliest.

Rahul Dravid is probably the story (that never was) of the IPL. When there was too much pressure on him from the fans, media and the beer baron; he did what he can do best. He let his bat do the talking. His persistent faith in his team helped them in the good outings against Hyderabad and Chennai. Rahul had once said that he had trained hard to adapt to One-Day cricket. I have tremendous respect for this no nonsense cricketer. He gave more than his best at an alien format. All his efforts can be summed up by the words of Edgar J. Hoover. “We the willing, led by the unknowing, have been doing the impossible for the ungrateful. We have been doing so much, for so long, with so little that now we are qualified to do anything with nothing.”

After watching half a dozen games from the dugout and playing nearly as many, Sachin Ramesh Tendulkar saying that he has not figured out this format does not add up. Thank god that he did not repeat, “It’s good for the team to win”, “The team’s victory means more to me than my Century’, “I played well, but it would have been nice had we won”. We have heard that so many times in the past and luckily he has not got too many runs to render his rhetoric.

I am waiting to see how the Mumbai crowd will boo Yuvaraj Singh when his team plays in the semis or even possibly in the finals. One in his right mind does not mess with the Mumbaikars. They have even booed the God himself. I am happy that the purple boy did not mess with the Kolkata crowd. Support from the stands is very important for any team to win. Ask the Jaipur boys, they know about it best. Mr. Ness Wadia should be a little careful about insulting police officers. The positive from Mohali is that a Ms. Preity Zinta has just kept to jumping, gyrating and dancing to the Bollywood tunes. She has not opened her mouth much and has kept herself out of trouble. Alison Krauss probably was talking about her when she sang the following lines “you say it best, when you say nothing at all.”

That leaves just one team- The team from my city. Sunil Gavaskar had a field day with a double dose of Srikanths. A deadly Dad-Son Combination like that in any team is a dangerous case of chronic verbal diarrhea. Mahi has not been saying the wrong things and has owned up some errors. I shall spare him but the one I cannot spare is the coach, Mr. Kepler Christoffel Wessels.

It’s great to use the feet movement and reflex skills from boxing to coach batsmen and wicketkeepers. If I am ever in boxing shorts the last ugliest face I would want to see would be that of Wessels. It is highly irresponsible to make negative statements ahead of a crucial match. I was a very poor cricketer myself, but if the best in me was brought out, it was because of the faith the captains and coaches had in me. I do not remember anyone ever telling me that they had to make adjustments because I was there or no one ever told me how it would have been better to have someone else on the team. I am sure they would have felt these things but one does not tell this to a member of a team game. Comments like “I was the last one hired”, “I was given this team”, “It would be a bonus if we make it to the last four”, “I am not too keen to come back next year”; are suicidal.

Kepler Wessels was a man, who was taken apart by Toni Grieg; this was someone who had a negative temperament about one day cricket, this was a cricketer who became disillusioned about Australian cricket and hung up his boots (or should I say gloves). When the team expects a knock out punch he just ends up knocking the air and confidence out of his young side. If you are not interested then please bugger off. We can use Srikanth as a coach and use the motivation from Shivamani to win matches. We just no longer need that ugly face hanging around the dressing room.

As an afterthought, please read Henry V by Shakespeare where he quotes Plato. “As empty vessels make the loudest sound, so they that have the least wit are the greatest blabbers”.

IPL's Fantastic Four.

IPL started with 8 teams locking horns. After the league games played in a round-robin half the teams would go back home. Then we have the traditional knock out at a Semi-Final from where 2 teams progress to the finals for a showdown or a face-off. I was always interested in the first four that will survive the 6 weeks of grueling tournament.

After the auctions, I had written off two teams. The Rajasthan Royals and the Bangalore Royal Challengers. That was now almost over a month ago. The points table and the team performances constantly changed the four favorite to make it the Knock outs. After nearly 10 games each one team has booked a place in the Semis and the other has no chances of making it.
The paradigm shift and how frequently the universal constant of change happened while deciding the 4 has been very intriguing for me.

So when the tournament started my four were Chennai, Delhi, Kolkata and Hyderabad. I did not give a chance to Bangalore and Jaipur. Thought Mohali and Mumbai could put up a fight.

After a few matches Rajasthan had emerged the dark horse; Mumbai, Bangalore and Hyderabad were clearly in disarray. Delhi and Kolkata looked formidable. Chennai and Mohali looked comfortable. So it was Hyderabad that took the "Much hyped but pathetic" title first. Few more games and Rajasthan was clearly growing from strength to strength. Chennai was at the top. Delhi and Mohali were getting stronger. Kolkata were suddenly struggling and joined Mumbai, Hyderabad and Bangalore. That’s when the cream of the Foreign players left, and with them the fortunes of Chennai.

At the half way mark Bangalore and Hyderabad were looking hopeless, Jaipur were sitting on top. Chennai was looking shaky; Mohali and Delhi were still at the top four. Mumbai came back strongly and Kolkata had new blood. It looked like the 4th semi-final berth would be a closely contested one between the 3 largest metros of India.

Some more matches and now, definitely Bangalore and Hyderabad are out. No miracles can work in their favor. Mohali is a more balanced and consistent side and they are good to go. Rajasthan looks comfortable on the top. In my opinion they are the first team that has qualified.
S. Rajesh actually thinks otherwise.

http://content-ind.cricinfo.com/ipl/content/story/351448.html

So the question that remains now is among the Metros which 2 are going to join Jaipur and Mohali at the top and which 2 will more likely sit out with the Bangalore and Hyderabad boys.



Chennai has had a great batting and now their bowling is looking great. The inconsistent performance weighs heavily against them. Their bench strength is also weak and Mahi has limited options. If there is not too much of a pressure on Dhoni they look a great team and can win with a team effort.

Kolkata is one team that has looked spirited; their fortunes are getting reversed too often. They have a few high profile signups and Dada needs to get his act going. The options for both bowling and batting are plenty. King Khan is no Mallya and will be okay with either the Mumbai crowd booing him or his team loosing.

Delhi is too dependent on its openers Shewag, Gambir and the No 3 Dhawan. The middle order is very shaky while the bowling department has started having a few niggles. McGrath is too good for any team. Delhi has two important home (against Kolkata and Mumbai) games and an easy away game against Bangalore.

Mumbai has comeback very well under the captaincy of Pollock and are very lucky under Tendulkar. Jayasurya single handedly influenced two matches. Andre Nel is a great replacement for Bravo. Mumbai suddenly looks very balanced after they have found the winning habit. Of course any team that can afford to play Pollock at 7 should be great. Three back to back matches in the last week can test the bench just before the knockouts.

So coming back to the question, let’s understand how questions work before we attempt to answer it. There are two places where you can ask a question. Your heart and the head! Now, after having said that, let’s go ahead and ask the question. Which Two Metros will progress?

My head says Delhi and Mumbai.
But my heart says Kolkata and Chennai.

Let’s keep our fingers crossed and touching some wood too!

Thanks Dad………For everything!

My dad was my own superman just like all other dads. Dad was the one who knew everything about the big people from the grown up world. He was in my eyes the chosen one; the one who could do anything. I don’t remember the exact day but like all good things that come to an end, I realized my dad was not superman. There were people who knew more, people who made more, people who had much more power and people capable of doing deeds beyond my dad’s comprehension. He had transformed into a simple, bread winning, tax payer working at a hospital run by the state government’s health department.

If I speak decent English, its because of all the efforts he had taken. From teaching me stuff beyond the scope of a two year old, to introducing a protege like Dr. Pasupathy into my life, to sending me to good schools, to forcing me to attend the Toast Masters, to spending a fortune for a fine education, to encouraging me to speak my mind out and discuss issues fearlessly, to buying expensive books.

If one is wondering on why there is so much fuss about learning a language like English, the answer to it is very simple. What I am today is because I can speak this language a little better. End of the day I am what one calls an English Teacher.

I thank him for everything that he has ever done. I enjoyed all the designer clothes from the Pilaka Taylor, the endless math games on the way to school, the word associations and memory techniques, all the field trips, endless supply of money (No clue on how he manages it!), DB Spectrum Plus (my first comp in 87), the attitude, the reading habit, crosswords on newspapers, weekend chess games and more recently sudoku. Yes I truly enjoyed them all.

Sometimes I wish I can thank him for all things that he had not done too. He always gave me what I needed, I have never had a situation to ask him for what I wanted. He has definitely done more than what an average dad does. How supportive he was when I had a crisis, the cool authority he displayed when I crawled back home drunk, the long chat we had about the girlfriend, the space and liberty he has extended. That way he will still be my superman! I am not sure if I can provide half of this to my kids.

Sometimes everything looks very funny and more like a sitcom. His take on all my friends being worthless and bad company, his view that I am wasting my life, probably his unhappiness that I did not end up as a medical professional or probably that disappointment of me not getting that cent um in high school maths are all justified. Probably his priorities were not mine. Probably my priorities are not his too. So its OK if he sells my first car. The happy days in that Omni is something that no can ever take away from me. Also, there is something else that no one can take from me. Its the person that I am. The real me.

Now, more than while studying Genetics, I believe in genes and traits. I realise I am everything that I did not want in my father. It is not that we have a misunderstanding, the fact of the matter is the we understand each other well, only too well.

The lengthy boring story.

This is the story of me Cheating on my wife*; the new found love being an old sweetheart*!

Call it a fatal attraction, being unfaithful, term it as sleeping with the enemy or simply scream murder. Now I have been there and done it. Guilty as I am charged, there is no choice but to bow my head down in shame.

In my case the enchantress (Blame it on the women always) was a childhood sweetheart. Mind you I had run away from her not so long ago. That's a sweet sorrow. To make is simple let me begin at the beginning.

It happened on a Sunday afternoon full of music, I saw her beautiful face, the grace that came naturally, her dancing down for any track with a practised ease, the young maiden had bowled me over. I had never seen anything like her before, then and there she stole my heart. I never had the time to take guard and she managed to steal my heart and run away. I was head over heels.

For close to a decade and half after that Sunday I knew of no other kind of romantic love, unabated adoration, faithful following, maddening craze and the blind devotion. When it was time to tie the knot I faltered, in the moment of a life long commitment I ran away from the alter. Ran away from my own wedding. The why is more baffling to me than the how!

Why? I saw other men loving her too, she became rich, she had the most powerful weapon on her. The spoilt child in her even defied the parent. She was suddenly greedy in my eyes, the apple of my eye was now poisoned, it was jaundiced. All I could see in her was the yellow of her new found wealth. Alas "New money" changing one is something that I never ever will understand.

How? I had found this other girl, orphaned and trying to fight for an identity. It was neither pity nor sympathy that attracted me towards her. She was everything that the other one was when I fell in love the first time. This was now perfect, I did get married this time. When some of you were about to write me off with "And they lived happily ever after!", came this shocking news that my first love (when will men ever get over their first love) was about to get married. My heart skipped a beat, I nearly fainted on hearing this painful news that stabbed my heart. I could feel the million pieces that my heart was torn into. I promised my friends that I will keep away. I tried hard, shut myself away from an Internet connection (my communication with the rest of the world). I did down a few shots of Vodka.

Stirred by the warmth of the spirit I decided to go ahead and see her for one last time. One last time before she becomes far removed from me. I managed to sneak a peek at her, then started following her. Then I became aware of her presence, I called out to her and surprisingly she reached out to me. If you had seen her act so cool, then you would never have guessed how horrible I had been to her. There she was in flesh and blood, closer to me than ever before. As I started getting drunk in her power, grace and beauty, my suppressed emotions for her found an outlet. This was an entertainment unlimited. One thing led to the other and my thirst for her was quenched.

I left her to get back to my wife. She was not there any longer. I had forgotten that she had left me and gone away. She had promised to be back sometime in the near future. I do not know if she will keep the promise. My cellophane taped heart now says may be she will come back to this unfaithful monster in me. A few minutes in solitude made me turn to the rest of the vodka. As I downed almost half a litre I realised how lonely I suddenly was. Guilty, heart broken, used, stamped upon and discarded. The greedy enchantress always flattered to deceive, something I never can imagine with my truelove. She promises simple meals, cooks it well, delivers on time and keeps all her promises.

More than the act of adultery I guess my promise to a dear friend, that I will stay away from the enchantress, was broken today. This has nothing to do with how I value that friendship. Its all my fault, I am weak in mind and cannot resist the temptation. Similar to the original sin. The nocturnal snake riding from the Garden of Eden had tempted me. I was royally challenged and my garden city is now a smelly dump yard littered with empty liquor cans that was served.

To my friend all that can be said is; I am sorry Avnish(the best sports fan ever) for following the inaugural match of the IPL. Kapil will you forgive me and bring my truelove back?



*All characters and images on this post are a work of fiction under the influence of Smirnoff Vodka, any resemblance to any character living or dear is truly coincidental. The author does not encourage or promote the use of Smirnoff Vodka. He strongly believes that there is nothing official about it.

A Super Tuesday!

Tuesdays became very interesting and important when I turned eight. The Toast Masters at the YMCA Kodambakkam used to meet on Tuesdays. That tradition lives till date even though the Club survives in an another name, form and location. Any event which involved a lot of other people and a hot discussion would be a Tuesday in my dictionary. The best thing to do is to watch a cricket match with a group of friends. The Steamed peanuts, pop corn and potato chips (French fries later when we all started making money) is of course the other reason to enjoy the day.

It happened again today. The great quality of cricket played brought back the fond memories of us following the 92 World Cup where Kapil Dev, Martin Crowe and Mark Greatbatch were gods. "Us" was then largely my brother's gang of friends and as a ten year old I was on cloud nine always. That was my first time. Since then I have been hooked on to following cricket in the company of friends.

It happened again at a NCC camp. About 500 of us almost cried to see Saeed Anwar playing one of the best ODI innings ever, scoring 194 against India on 21st May 1997 in the Pepsi Independence Cup league match at Chennai.
Then it was taking my cousins to the beach to watch the World cup on the Big Screen. That was a different experience even though it was for New Zealand that we cheered for on that day.

The 2003 World cup was even better, this time it was at a friend's place where Blue Pepsi, Old Monk and Kalyani flowed like water. I still have no clue on where his parents were for the entire month. This is around the time I got a little superstitious about cricket. Not moving from my chair, performing crazy movements in the air to get a wicket or a boundary, refusing to blink my eyelids. I think I have done all that a true fan can possible do. This season was also when I met a girl and we hit it off immediately. The other important thing that happened on that day was that India played Pakistan and won comprehensively. Since then every time I call her during an India-Pakistan encounter, we have always won. All the times that we have lost is probably only because we did not speak that day. (Ah! The die hard superstitious Indian Cricket fan inside me is difficult to control at times.)

Next time I enjoyed following a match was at MAC. Ten of us were cheering Harbajan, on the fifth morning of the test between India and Australia, from the pavilion while the winning runs were scored.

Between then and now there were a few other occasions at Dell where the huge TV used to be hired to encourage all of us to come to work and cheer the Indian Team. Then at an other organisation we had to pay for online live video feeds to enjoy the World cup in the Caribbean.

Following the ICL 50's at Mayajal with friends from college was also interesting since the tickets were not expensive and we could also catch up on a movie. I have also enjoyed the Chennai Open at the Nungambakkam tennis stadium in the last few years but nothing was like today.

It has been a great fortnight for cricket. South Africa demolishing India, Hyderabad Hero's winning twice against the formidable Lahore Badshah's, The doctored wicket at Green Park, Indian Tail Wagging, Dada playing a mature innings, Chanderpaul hitting a four and a six of the last two balls to win a ODI, The mystery spinner Ajanta Mendis making his international debut and ICL India coming up with 4 great victories.

The ICL 20's International Final was too gripping, a power cut at a vital stage and my cousin throwing water on the TV and literally burning it down; all added more masala to watching the match. Somewhere today I realised I had became that 10 year old boy watching the match with excitement among my cousins and friends. Life has come a full circle and I have relived that day. Thanks for keeping the promise and making my day again Kapil!

I also finished reading Tuesdays with Morrie. So that's one more promise that has been kept. What a "Super Tuesday!"

And he turned 100 today..........

The word “Turn” when used as a verb can mean 29 different things. When used as a noun it can mean a further 17 things. Mostly we use this word as a transitive verb that means to move to face in a different direction or toward a particular location, or move something so that it does this.

It is still etched very clearly in my memory when Dr. Pasupathy was behind the mike trying to keep the audience comfortable while the guest of honor, Yuhi Sethu was running late to the Toast Master’s Annual Debate. He said “Our Chief Guest Yuhi just took a U turn and he should be here any moment”. This comment was so natural and spontaneous in the given circumstance that the crowd broke out into a laughter fit and kept their calm till the guest arrived and arrive he did in his pajamas.

Since then the strange turn of events in my life turned my stomach and made me wonder if I could, ever be turned to a butterfly to, fly free from all troubles and turn a new leaf. When it was my turn to turn the tide around, I froze and panicked. I could not even turn a corner not to mention my inability to turn a profit. I turned pessimist. It was time I turned to few trusted people who have always given me direction.

This was when I remembered my grandfather. A very efficient businessman, who kept his records clean, paid his taxes, earned the goodwill of his employees, respect in the society and depended only on his ability. Despite the success of his ventures he was still the simple man who insisted on doing his own chores. He was a man with a strong will and clear vision. When all went against his wishes he still persisted and trusted. Patience and hard work paid off. If there was one word that could be used to relate to him then it was Ethics. He was always right.

Someone once told me that to be an entrepreneur one needs to have balls of steel. At last I guess I have figured out my mantra to success is to keep it short and simple.

Sometimes my thoughts turn to the past. Today my grandfather would have turned 100 (had he missed a cardiac arrest 17 years ago); there were some celebrations with the family coming together and having a good time and a fantastic feast. In these parts of the world celebrating the birth anniversary of someone who has been dead for a while is not very uncommon, especially a public figure. Since granddad was a very simple man it was very funny to see our huge families unite and find an excuse to celebrate. Probably all the pomp and the shameless public display of wealth would have made him “Turn in his Grave” (Btw, we did not leave that option open for him since 1991).

You have inspired me to be an entrepreneur and taught us all to live life in a simple and successful way Gramps, may your soul rest in peace. It will soon be my turn……….

All you friends out there, this one goes out for you....

உடுக்கை இழந்தவன் கைபோல ஆங்கே
இடுக்கண் களைவதாம் நட்பு.

( Iudukai izhandavan kaipola aange idukkan kalaivadhaam natpu ) Kural - 788

Translation in English: (True) friendship hastens to the rescue of the afflicted (as readily) as the hand of one whose garment is loosened (before an assembly).

Meaning: As swiftly as the hand moves to seize a slipping garment, Friendship acts to assuage a friend's distress.

Tendulkar and the Ghost who Walks!

It was a fantastic day of cricket, a rare event where chasing a low total seemed to be equally gripping and competetitive at the highest level. Two well matched teams locked horns in battle and the team that kept its nerve emerged the winners.

A small incident that disturbed me a lot happened on the last ball of the eleventh over of the Indian Innings at Melbourne. Stuart Clark bangs one in a touch short and Sachin Tendulkar charges down the track and swings across the line, there is a bit of a noise and Adam Gilchrist takes it clean. The moment of joy in the Aussie camp is short lived due to the stony face of Rudi Koertzten. Sachin then on 24, bats further and adds 20 vital runs to the eventually successful chase.

As a die hard fan (Almost any young Indian Male is.) I have always wanted Sachin to convert those starts to fifties and the fifties to hundreds and the hundreds to massive scores. In the days of umpires ruining (This has happened on more than several occasions) a fantastic innings and bringing the master's knock to an abrupt end; I have cried and cursed more than my parents can imagine. I have fought with my friends at school when someone said Sachin should walk if he edges one to behind the stump. My selfish glee did not let me see the reputation he was building for himself. We have all witnessed that several times in the past. The master walks voluntarily even if the umpires have thought otherwise.

Brian Lara and Sachin Tendulkar will always be remembered for their integrity and the spirit of Sportsmanship that they displayed. More recently Adam Gilchrist, despite wearing the baggy green, joined this bandwagon of very few rare cricketers.

I am not questioning Sachin's integrity (no one can actually question that or his commitment to Indian Cricket). I am not opening an argument that the boot hit another one to produce the sound at the exact moment the ball passed the bat. I am not verifying the accuracy of the snickometer or the quality of the video transmission and its audio synch. I am just wondering if probably Sachin knew that he had edged it, then in the age of India slowly moving away from the mode of depending entirely on Sachin, why did he not walk. Even in those days where oppositions thought that getting Sachin's wicket literally sealed the game, Tendlya used to walk. He used to walk even when there were no other recognized batsmen left.

This also brings to my memory the incident involving Murali Karthick, where he edged one and did not walk in the home series last year. The Aussie Captains comment that it would have been nice if he had walked drew a lot of criticism in the Indian Press. Ricky Ponting's track record, past deeds and integrity drew heavy criticism.

This brings us to the point where we can ask, "Are we justified in asking the Australians to set a better example by walking?” Is it that because they are a professionally run unit and are successful that the whole world points fingers and treats Sachin in an entirely different manner.
I don’t want to be a Nakeeran for just the selfish reason of safeguarding my life from the assault of other Die hard Sachin Fans. Probably in a nation where cricket is the religion and Sachin being God, he gets off the hook for a rare change in attitude.

All cricketers are equal before the eyes of the Indian Press, but a few are more equal than others!

Saarang 2008 @ IIT Madras

Been There; Done (I)IT!
It was the unmistakable feeling of déjà vu, the nostalgia kept rushing back at me. It has been nearly eight years and there I was at IIT Madras (The one place that is never going to be Chennai ever!), taking in the excitement, fun and serious competition. Anyone who has been to college in these parts of the world and not been at Saarang is very rare; not enjoying it is even rarer. Welcome to the largest and the most prestigious cultural fest in India.

The Guys
It all happened casually a few weeks ago when I went to drop my friend Sameer off at IIT. Somehow stayed back for the meeting and met a few young guns. As always I liked the enthu these chaps had. Ducky, Rubber band, 8 P.M. and B.C......Not forgetting my own team; Ajay, Alan, Geebs.... Really awesome young brains.

Glory Days
In any cultural fest it was the speaking events that always caught my eye. Of course the fact that I was born with two left feet and nourished by a little donkey’s milk, I could never go close to anyplace that had to do with singing and dancing. In my days of glory it was always the Extempore, JAM, Debate, Turn Court/Coat and Shipwreck (in that order) that helped me fill up the trophies stand at home. That came close to my own ego wall.

J.A.M
I have always liked JAM despite all the Toast Masters having an aversion towards this exercise. I am a great fan of the traditional JAM aired on BBC radio, the smart objections by Freud, The drool of Kenneth Williams, the clear Logic of Nicholas Parsons, The wit of Derrick Nimmo fascinates me to no length.

http://www.saarang.org/08/Events/Speaking/JAM

Enjoying JAM being a participant is great but enjoying it as a Moderator is even more fun and is almost like skating on thin ice. This time I did get to skate on thin ice, thanks to the organising committee at Saarang 2008. (Of course my all time favorite topics will include "A Committee is a group of people who individually can do nothing, but as a group decide that nothing can be done."). I tried to make it a little interesting for the audience by including a few whacky one-liners. The usual pun, sarcasm, purified humour, uncensored wit were all there. Of course the time has evolved and the Jammers these days will have to enjoy the occasional dig the smarties take at you. This year they almost called me a joker and said my topics were shitty ("Diarrhoea hereditary; It runs down your Jeans."). The crowd enjoyed it, particularly "The rule of the thumb" and "15 seconds of Fame" were well received. Of course I did manage to get a running gag on the technical skills of the IITians at fixing the buzzers damaged by the trigger happy contestants and the one about Hearing Aids for anyone who objected on the grounds of Incoherence. A few of my jokes bombed and no one actually found the intended meaning of one topic. Since the speaking community is a very close knit unit, I usually am not surprised to find a few friends participating. Actually this time they were the younger sisters of my friends......But meeting Shruthi and Malavika was indeed a pleasant surprise since I have not seen them in a real long time. So I guess I tried my best to remain very fair while doing the rounds (and of course I did try my best to sneak them in to the finals when we were adding the scores later!)

The Last Word
Being among the youngsters, the nostalgia of Saarang, the pleasure of being the Mod just reminded me of a not so distant past. I guess it is the human tendency to not admit that one is getting old. We still try crazy things (Like the Malaysian Print Shirt I was wearing that day) to fit in among the younger generation. We all move on but still try getting back at a different level to do what your heart commands you to.

I guess then it is time to say Watch out Saarang 2009! Aneesh will strike back!

Zugzwang - The time line!

In a game of Chess there might be a situation where one is at a disadvantage because of the pressure to make a move, where the player would like to pass and make no move. By being forced to make a move leads to one's position becoming significantly weaker than the hypothetical one in which it is the opponent's turn to move. In combinatorial game theory, it specifically means that it directly changes the outcome of the game from a win to a loss. In Chess however it can be a Win to a Draw or a Draw to a Loss. It can even mean significant loss in positional strength or loss of material. A player when in his turn to move, who has no move that does not worsen the position is said to be in zugzwang. Thus every move would make their position worse, and they would be better off if they could pass and not move. So, it all boils down to "being a player to move cannot do anything without making an important concession".

zug·zwang (tsktsväng) n. A situation in a chess game in which a player is forced to make an undesirable or disadvantageous move. [German Zugzwang : Zug, pull, move + Zwang, compulsion.]

The Past.

A true master of the 64 Squares set 64 conditions to defend his title against Anatoly Karpov left us all a few days ago aged 64.

All of them knew he was a genius, the smartest strategist and a brilliant innovator. The world will understand him better if it forgets all the follies and looks to find the true spirit of an ardent Grandmaster who wanted to challenge the system to simply improve the game. His contributions are many from adding the variations to the Najorf Sicilian, Ruy Lopez, Nimzo-Indian and the King's Gambit; to inventing Chess960 and the digital delay clocks.

I have always been successful with the Fischer Variation and the great bishop ending popularly known as the Fischer Endgame. Sometimes champions are labeled lunatics for standing up for things that the vast majority have taken for granted.

A great past that always remained turbulent, a past called Bobby Fischer.

The Present-
Virtually most of the possible bowling records are under the belt of this wonderful cricketer. A rare human being who still makes us, believe that Cricket is a Gentlemen's game. Commitment, perseverance, toil, brilliance are at times used as synonyms with him.

In May 2002 heavily strapped up, with bands going around his jaw, over his head and across the back of it, a semi-mummified man ran in and presto, scalped the wicket of Lara. A few said his appearance and bowling was simply a case of insecurity - he was booking a place in the squad that will tour England later. A few others said it was a calculated stunt to gain the sympathy of the public and the media. Andrew Leipus made it clear that local dentists had patched up the jaw and there was little chance of worsening the injury by playing, it was good enough to take the conspiracy theorists and nay-sayers out of the picture. But that never happens. People will believe what they want. There are others who feel this was a defining moment in his career. A testament to the man's approach to the game. His job is to bowl and take wickets, he thought it was well within him to push himself and give his best.

He is someone who has made the sport proud today by conquering Perth. He will be know for a lot of other glorious things but the following quote will always remain etched in my memory.

"Unfortunately, these days, when someone apologises, it is seen as either a sign of weakness or an admission of guilt. I am neither unnerved nor are we guilty. In the larger interests of the game, if an apology could help build bridges and smooth things over, then it is better made than left unsaid because of egos."

The simplicity and sincerity of the present, a present to all of us, a present called Jumbo-

The Future,
On 19th Jan, The World's fastest Indian celebrated yet another Birthday. A young champion who is so clear headed and composed. Takes pressure lightly, works hard and shows commitment to all the youngsters when he is around at the MMSC Race track in Chennai guiding them and giving direction to race their Formula LGB class cars.

Some outstanding qualities are often hereditary, and being the Prodigal Son of the Legendary Vicky has surely helped in a great way. Being simple and keeping it short n sweet has been naturally inherited by this future champion.

I still wake up in the middle of the night, smiling and feeling happy about the dreams where I cheer him from the pits when he wins his first Formula 1 race.

The future belongs to an Indian Force, a future called Karun Chandhok,

I wish him all the best and hope all of you follow his long career ahead @

http://www.karunchandhok.com/

An experience called "The Checkers Hotel"

All my friends know me as a big foodie, this could largely be attributed to my ardent or refined interest in food. I am neither an epicure nor a gourmet simply because it reminds one of a stodgy, snobbish person, only willing to consider a restaurant that has a truffle pate on the menu. Since I have enjoyed almost any kind of food at every opportunity I am proud to be known as a foodie ( don't read it as Glutton). There were periods in time where good food was hard to get and expensive. In recent times the people have the resources to buy virtually anything and have the means to cook it. A few months ago a few friends of mine decided to host a barbeque and we set up a great evening in a matter of few hours. So to be a foodie is not only to like food, but to be interested in it. One need not know the difference between a beefsteak tomato and an heirloom tomato, but might be interested to find out what it is. So anyone can be a foodie if one has the hunger (for knowledge)!
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Foodie



All my life I have been a great fan of mom's cooking, she is the best when it comes to speed, managing resources and bringing out healthy n' finger-licking food. My dad often jokes at my mom's awesome cooking being the reason why he usually avoids having food outside. In the recent past I have started enjoying the food at The Checkers Hotel, near Little Mount, Chennai.
After a long day of business meetings, my colleague recommended this new hotel that has come up on the Mount road. I instantly took a liking for the food there. Those boring meetings were not boring anymore. I kind of started looking forward for the meetings with this particular client for the sheer pleasure of excusing myself to a great treat. I particularly like the Roti John, straight from the South East Asian Street food menu.

The Chinese restaurant has authentic food on the first floor but the steal is the lunch buffet on the ground floor. It has a decent spread and the price does not pinch the pocket. I hear that there are special deals for a large group (More business lunch here please!). After a few months of indulging on these lunches another friend introduced me to Rohan the GM who has made the difference here. The strong chef background he has had has helped in adding the aroma and flavour to the food here!

I still like the Onion Pakkodas, Tuna Sandwitches, Paneer Pakkodas, Hot lime tea and the refreshing Cappuccinos better at Checkers than anywhere else.

So all the foodies out there what are you waiting for?

Checkout their site at

http://www.thecheckershotel.com/

And it is still a better idea to check out the Kheer they serve for lunch!

The Search for a hot search is Over!

I have lived in only two cities for at least three years. One being my hometown Chennai, I had no problems whatsoever in finding things, food, people and services. However, when I moved to Bangalore, I guess, it was my instincts that took over. I have done crazy things in the most unorganized manner. Living there was a nightmare since I embraced technology almost at the end of my stay there.

Youth these days, do not have that issue. They do not think too much about relocating to smaller cities, to second tier cities, to cities in another state, to cities from another geographical location. Sometimes they relocate to even towns. These young people have a lot of access to technology but the question is do they have access to the correct kind of Information. Sometimes I have a hard time finding the Information that I know for sure is there on the web and what really bothers me is that I have trained people on refining the search on Google.

A few sleepless nights and the inability to search and find information that is already there to be found added some fuel to the fire. After a million discussions from people all around the globe, we finally decided to get a hot search that will have every business listed on it online. The dream took shape as

www.mirchisearch.com

The idea is to put all small business owners online and to keep the dreams unlimited.

Do check the site out and give us a feedback @

Aneesh@mirchisearch.com or Vignesh@mirchisearch.com

Wishing, "A happy new year!"

It has been a few hours since we have stepped into another new year in the Gregorian/Julian Calendar. At least half a dozen people who have bumped into me since this morning have wished me "A very happy new year!", Of course many thanks from me for these wishes.

Instead of moving on, I scratch my head and ponder. Had these people not crossed my path by some strange stroke of ill luck, would they have really wished me to have a happy new year? Maybe, may be not. I am not sure of this, but one thing that I am sure is that I cannot imagine a person wishing a not so happy year for an individual they know (If they do then it is not worth knowing them). The new year eve and the subsequent celebration is commonplace for any culture the measures yearly calendars.

At this point in time I remembered my phone, at least a few dozen text messages and a few more "ScrapAllYourFriends" wishes on Orkut. The advancement in technology lets one forward anything and everything to anyone and everyone on the phone's contact list (I guess a few of us are still left to champion the cause of screening the To list). The other technology bestows on one the luxury of comfortably forgetting a friend's birthday provided they log in every day. Oh my god! These wishes that I have been receiving are not personalised anymore. I think I should thank the ones that sent me the new year cards via the snail mail and so many others who have tried calling me since zero hour (Have we become so jobless? I guess they were all better off at work forwarding those endless emails.)

So what is the "funda" behind all the festivities? Why does an average youth attach so much importance to the countdown (this usually reminds me that my time on Earth is running out)? Why does one spend monstrously enormous quantities of money for a few hours (I am to understand that in India the youngsters on an average spend anything around INR 10,000)? Why are we interested in increasing the sales of IMFL and why the juggernaut of a drinking spree? Why scream your throats out? Aren't we selling Strepsils anymore? The police of course issue the mandatory statement that the security is going to be beefed up and this year will be stricter than ever before, Of course we know how many law and order violations cases happen.

Starting from the first of January the new year can commence even up until the twenty fifth of December. Of course lots of them are meaningless and have no significance. Too many Roman emperors have meddled too much with the calendar. The 1st of Jan was observed as the new year only since 1752 in most of the British Empire. However several of these dates have a lot more meaning than the first of January. The Chinese new year or the spring festival popularly know as Chúxì is entirely based on the lunar calendar that is astronomically defined so the drift of the season can change the range that usually is between 21st Jan and 21st Feb. This is very similar to the Vietnamese Têt Nguyên Đán and the Tibetan Losar.

While I am still searching for all those who wished me a happy 2007 just to tell them it was not really so happy; I get this masterpiece from nowhere. Times like these and the timing especially makes me believe in the Grandmasters hand behind all these. The only wish this year that made sense was from a dear friend....."To all my friends who send me best wishes 4 2007 - it did fuck all . . .So for 2008 could you please send either money, booze, porn or petrol vouchers!" He sure had a rough year, so rough that he calls me on my birthday on the stroke of midnight to tell me that he has crashed his car. I think it is a better idea to wish people a happy new year on their birthday (sounds much better than dude I crashed my car can you come here?), after all it is another year that they are entering.

By the way if some one meets him please do wish him a Happy New Year 2008 from the Heart of my bottom. Lets see if this makes a difference!