Sunday, November 23, 2008

"One last thing lads"


For the thousands of Indians who, like me, grew up watching cricket, these are difficult times. One after the other, our heroes are walking away into the sunset. There is this sadness about the whole situation. No doubt, there is the bright light of hope as well, but for now its just too hard to adjust.

These were the guys for whom we stayed up late, missed homeworks, faked bad health to miss tuitions, hurried our dinner. Indian cricket was the thing that mattered the most to us. We were happy when we won, sad when we lost. I remember the gutted feeling of the times when we'd "snatch defeat from the jaws of victory", but also the elation of pulling off an impossible victory. But it wasn't always this way..

Sourav Ganguly will be remembered for a lot of things, but for me, he'll remain the best captain we've had. After the big letdown of the Azhar era, he picked up the pieces of what used to be Indian cricket and forged a team that captured our imagination. He taught us how to fight. He gave us Yuvraj, Bhajji, Zaheer, Irfan and Sehwag.. the core of the current team. I wonder if these guys would have made it this far without the support of Ganguly. He backed each one of them through their lean times, giving them confidence every step of the way. Since Ganguly, we've had captains in Dravid, Kumble and Dhoni. Dravid and Kumble were just too graceful to be good captains, while Dhoni is still a work in process.

Almost throughout his career, Sourav batted under the shadows of Sachin, but the satisfaction that came from watching his cover drives is not matched even by the best chocolate fudge in town. The sixers off the left arm spinners were predictable, yet every bit amazing. His hundreds in Australia and England are unforgettable. The series against Pakistan in Toronto should have been officially renamed the "Sourav Ganguly series". The highlight of this career, though, has to be the shirt flinging at the holiest of the holy grounds, Lords.

The grace, elegance and skill for which he has been known were all on display in his last series against the Aussies. From the time when he announced his retirement to his hundred and the fifities... to the last speech. He has been fantastic.

Its painful to watch one day cricket these days. Gambir, Raina, Rohit and Dhoni are all brilliant... but they just dont mean as much to us, not yet anyway. We know its time for the legends to leave, but its just not the same without them. Thanks for the memories Dada...and at the risk of sounding too school boy-ish... I'll miss you!

Wednesday, November 12, 2008

What was she thinking?

I was so tired of the routine. I decided I was simply going to enjoy this weekend. I dragged Harsha, Anant and Dimitrios to Washington DC. I had a whale of a time. We did all things that tourists do, and then our perverse jokes too.

There was, however, this one moment which made me pause. It was at the Vietnam memorial. As I was walking along the wall inscribed with the names of all those who had laid down their lives in the war, I noticed this woman kneeling in front of the wall. I paused to look at what she was doing. She put a white paper over a name and started pencil shading. I started wondering... was it her son? was it her husband? her brother?

Once she was done, she folded away the paper and kept it in her bag. Then she touched the name end to end, several times. More thoughts rushed to my head... is she crying? is she proud of him? I'm sure she's proud.. but does she think his life was wasted? how is she living without him?

I could only imagine this to be a part of some war movie. But when it happened right before me, it had me frozen for a second. I tried to catch her eyes as she walked away, but couldn't. This was supposed to be a fun weekend. I had to shake this off. So we went to the Einstein statue and clicked funny pictures. But once I started walking.. I was thinking again... What was she thinking? Surely she thought it was a waste... what came out of this?

It made so much sense when I was this...

Wednesday, September 10, 2008

:)

I wanna get drunk.. like really really drunk. I wanna get so drunk that I have no clue as to what I'm doing. I wanna have all the tequila, vodka, scotch and good ol' beer that I can have. In Antoney's words, "I wanna get so drunk that alcohol must pour out of every hole in my body".

I've never really gotten pissed drunk, but then again, I've never really had that intense desire either. I'm neither too happy nor too sad.. not even bored.. so then why this desire?? Maybe I'm just fed up with things in general. I think I just wanna feel numb for a while, forget everything and just lie wasted in some dark corner.

This already sounds like a drunk post :) (but its only wednesday)

I miss someone.. I dont know who.

Monday, May 12, 2008

Satisfaction?

Why is satisfaction so elusive? Why are we constantly looking at the next step in life? The next car, the next job, MBA, New York City, when your present is so young? Is it bad to slow down and live in today, while still having a plan for the future? I really don't understand why people cannot think of today as a learning experience... something that will make you stronger tomorrow. Why curse your present, really?

What do you gain by talking trash about people you don't like, or about people who are not like you, or people who have actually achieved something in life? Why can't you respect all women? Does it give your ego a boost when you degrade a person in your own eyes? I'm sure it doesn't, cos if it did, you wouldn't be doing it again the next day.

Why can't you be proud of your country? Why curse it for its shortcomings when you're not doing anything to help?

Why can't you just be happy? Why can't you be satisfied?

Monday, April 07, 2008

Reading again..

I've gotten through two books post Georgia Tech.. and I'm lucky they were both damn good, or I'd have given up again.

The Kiterunner by Khaled Hosseini was an often-twisting tale about friendship, guilt and circumstance in a war-torn country. I finally understood what the term 'jaw-dropping' actually meant. The movie, though impressive, wasn't quite as good as the book. However, you know a movie has touched the audience when there are those very quiet 15 seconds at the end of the movie when nobody's moving.. mostly out of shock. I guess the mostly-American crowd had for the first time seen a world that they never believed could exist, and hence the shock. It was not just the story of a man.. it represented the story of a whole country.

The first thing that comes to mymind when I think of the book/movie... "A thousand times for you Sohrab."

Maximum City by Suketu Mehta talks a bit about the Mumbai we know.. and then it talks a lot about the Mumbai we don't know, the 'Sone ki chidiya'. Everything about it was mesmerizing.. the underworld, bar dancers, bollywood, vada-pav, the local trains, and the people. Its a pity that the book was written prior to the train blasts... I would be interested in reading how Suketu would have told that story, only because the scenes on TV are still so fresh in everyone's mind.

My favourite part of this book was the story of Babanji, the young hopeful Bihari poet.

Monday, March 24, 2008

Found on my Starbucks cup...

All children need a laptop. Not a computer, but a human laptop.
Moms, dads, grannies and grandpas, aunts, uncles..
Someone to hold them, read to them, teach them.
Loved ones who will embrace them and pass on the experience,
rituals & knowledge of a hundred previous generations.
Loved ones who will pass to the next generation their expectations of them,
their hopes, and their dreams.
 
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