Procrastination

I turned 29 around a decade back or at least thats what it feels like. I had a gala celebration which included cutting a cake (This was only the second time in my life that I have done it), singing a song while standing on a chair (This was my first), three flaming lamborghinis (Definitely my first and the last), a broken car (My first and hopefully the last).

As I was sitting by the roadside with the broke car at 3.30AM in the morning, I was trying to convince my rational self on why I should just leave the car there itself and come back for it tomorrow. I was coming up with irrefutable logic in my support eg. what could I possibly do at that ungodly hour or if I lock the car, how could anybody steal it etc. etc. And I had an epiphany. I realized that one constant in my life has been the ability to come up with undeniable logic to postpone as many things as possible to the point of not doing them at all. I would wake up on saturday and postpone the shower to after a lazy breakfast, to after an afternoon nap, to after a starbucks latte and then eventually convince myself that there is no point in taking a shower at 10PM and might as well do it the next morning. Next morning, the cycle is of course repeated.

There have been numerous activities that I have taken up or want to take up which have somehow either been abandoned midway or have never materialized. I have always been able to come up with a strong argument in favor of taking up an activity and then an even stronger one in favor of abandoning it. I would play cricket and then convince myself that I dont have the talent (This might be a partial truth; actually the whole truth). I would start writing a novel, think about the time it takes to market (It is an unbelievable 5-6 years from the time you pen your first word) and come up with something else which can give me instant gratification. So, I would start blogging and then tell myself who the heck gives a damn (I am not lying when I say there are 11 draft articles which would probably never get published). Similarly, I would want to take up photography, golf etc. and then sleep over it. The list is endless.

For a long time, I described it all as a side-effect of travelling light. I said to myself that I dont like excess baggage because that will slow me down and I should rather focus on fewer but more important things. Just another of my gimmicks to turn this into a glamorous argument. It was just that the things I was focusing on were so few as to be none.

So sitting by the roadside, I finally decided to come face-to-face with my rational self. We both agreed that it was purely procrastination and that I should call up the unmistakable 24-hour toll-free number printed in bold italics on the windshield. A tow-truck arrived in less than 20 minutes which also dropped me home on its way to the repair centre. But not before the aforementioned epiphany.

Honestly and truthfully, procrastination makes life so much easier and arguably happier. I really do want to procrastinate. But I am going to snooze the thought for the time being.

If I could...

If I had enough (financially, emotionally, physically, and all other allys), then I would have nothing to do except sit back and reflect. I recently had a moment like that and I, well, reflected. I reflected about all the things that I would like to do in such an abundant stage and here goes the list, in no particular order :-

i) I would like to park myself in Googolplex and endlessly watch the world-wide internet search key words ticker for a selfish laugh. I would look at keywords like "What does red smell of?" or "how can males have multiples?". Based upon that, I will take a graceful leap of imagination and construct characters, draw caricatures, and chart the entire life of the person typing them away, including his pets. I will only allow it to be published posthumously.

ii) I would invest resources into understanding the enormous complexities that the universe offers. For example, I would like to understand why do the boys display an unhealthy obsession for male bonding? or what is the connection between hair-loss and blogging.

iii) I would make hypothetical scenarios and play them out. For example, I would like to understand what happens if everybody in the world decides to make it a 4-day working week. Will the human species extinguish of boredom or will it embrace the free time and indulge in reflecting like yours truly :-)

iv) I would like to dig out all the conspiracy theories and (dis)prove them. There wouldnt be any Area-51 or a fluttering flag on the Moon while I breathe.

v) I would list down all the classical jokes that have stood the test of time and trace them back down to the first person who ever came up with it. I may follow it up with a petition to have a Nobel prize for the person who makes the largest number of people laugh in a year. If turned down, I will institute a rival award with my own financial muscle.

Have you reflected on something similar? Please share; the only condition is that it has to be trivializing.

An Idiot's guide to Corporate Survival

Looking back at my long and successful corporate career (?..I just like to sound as a presumptuous veteran) and looking at the recent trends, I have come to the conclusion that survival in a corporate setting needs a set of whole new breed of competencies. One of those is surviving the drudgeries of long and brutally stuffy meetings. That is also the subject of this post - How do we keep our energy levels high and blood-pressures low by seeing the light side of it.


Imagine you are sitting in a prolonged meeting with no end in sight. Most of the participants are faceless and you can only hear their voices from the other side of the ocean. Some are debating what sounds like a matter of life and death and after-life while others are clueless. You belong to the latter group. While you strive to be part of the discussion and thus to make an impact, nonetheless, the things being talked about are either above your pay-grade, not directly relevant to you or is utter rubbish (in your opinion, of course). Yet, you are obliged to sit through in case somebody indulges in far-fetched fantasies which necessitate your unassuming participation.


The above is not fictional and is becoming more and more a reality and a corporate athelete has never faced a bigger challenge than to survive these inhuman atrocities. After a lot of post-meeting post-mortems with colleagues, amid dissonance we were able to agree on some common tips which will ensure that you will continue to stay in touch with your inner and forever trivializing human side. We think that our tips are much more original and have ignored some of the prevailing and thus rusted tactics like net-surfing, multi-tasking etc. Some of this is untested (and consequently unproven) and I will love to hear from you the first hand results.


The first tip is the concept of Nested Meetings. This is a brilliant concept contributed by a master artist at this game (The identity concealed to avoid prosecution). The concept is simple. Have small meetings with a small subset of meeting participants on like-minded but ethereal topic which will occupy a small subset of the overall length of the meeting timing. Ouch...I think I have taken a simple concept and complicated the heck out of it. Let me try again with some examples. Nested meetings can be indulgence in trifles like trivializing others' comments via private sms's or online chatting with compatible campaigners. You can also indulge in some humanitarian efforts, for example, you can offer tutions on technical aspects of blogging to fellow participants like how to write a comment on your blog and thereby improving your comment-rate. You can also go around the room and change everybody's homepage to your blog to increase your hit-count. All this should happen when the original meeting is underway. This can be taken one step further by pre-concocting such nested meetings with fellow promoters and assigning specific time to such excesses in advance.


Sometimes, it may happen that all the participants might be genuinely righteous and will not succumb to your charms. In such dire circumstances, you can play games with those unsuspecting participants at your own terms. An example of such a game - "How many times can you use Superman in a sentence while participating in the meeting?" If you are new to this game, you can start with something simple and easy to get away with like 'Boys'. If you dont like the business graduates, then you can choose a word out of some management jargon like 'competitive advantage'. You get better at this game by practice. As a rule of thumb, if you exceed a count of 43 for any particular word, you should move on to something more difficult and funnier. Another example of such a game can be how can you influence to get more breaks than previously scheduled for. The brilliance of it is that you are restricted by your own creativity and you dont need anybody else to play your game with you (Goes well with Voldemort fans).


Now, we are getting into darker and hitherto untested territories. If you dont like any particular participant and think that his/her questions are almost always not only frivolous but dont even deserve an answer, then you can respond by side-stepping and dancing all around and on top but never really answering the question. You should pull out all the jargons from your reserves that you have ever known, mix in a few "words of the day from the mariam-webster email subscription" whose meaning and usage you are unfamiliar with and if possible, throw his/her rhetoric back at him/her by finishing your 'answer' with a question posed directly back. You should count all such instances across many meetings and when you have reached a cumulative count of 23, you should let that person off the hook. Any further exposure may lead to permanent brain damage to the other person. If you start dreaming about such exchanges even before you have reached the count of 23, you should cease. My advice, however, will be never to try this with anybody higher than your level. If you do, let me know how it went. I will pay you for this favor.

More on this later. You are welcome to contribute too.

Last word freak

Do you feel that you have an obsessive-compulsive need to have the last word?

Do you, at times, say something, hoping to close the conversation, but ended up never hearing from the other person?

Do you, at times, say something which turned out to be not quite as witty as you expected and the only reason you did that was as a retort?

Do you hate coming across people like above?

This post is dedicated to all of you (I dont believe in niche positioning and I dont like to limit my audience:-). Alright, honestly speaking, this post is dedicated to people who have an obsessive-compulsive need to have the last word, referred to as Last-Word-Freaks. They are as common as the number of times calls drop in Malaysia (Trust me thats quite a lot). There are more similarities between the two. Sometimes, they are quite irritating (imagine talking to your girlfriend with repetitive call failures) and very welcome at other times (especially if your boss has taken a habit of thinking of you as his keep). On the same token, sometimes you find LWFs extremely irritating and at other times, they are quite fun to have around. All depends upon the context and the mood.

I have devised a very simple way of diagnosing who are the LWFs. It starts with playing a game which is called "Associations" (Disclaimer: I havent invented the game; but the idea to use it to diagnose LWF is entirely mine). You would need to start this game with an unsuspecting potential-LWF. The game is very simple. You utter a word. the other person utters another word, somehow linked to the original word. You do the same. Repeat ad infinitum. See an example below:

Mountain - River - Water - Yacht - Sex

You can challenge a link if you dont understand one. In the above case, I was thinking of sex in a yacht.

Sex - male - Beta - Idiot - Beta - Idiot - Beta - Idiot

The moment you hit a repeating circular mode, you are dealing with an average LWF. He thinks that he is smart, except he is not. He is your nightmare; a lethal and potent potion of arrogance and absurdity. He cant spell wit, is easily amused (only at his own "jokes"), doesnt understand half of others' jokes or refuses to smile and is too arrogant to be bothered with. Walk away while you can. Or if you are the cynical sadist, unleash him on other unsuspecting victims, lean back and enjoy.

Beta - Associations - Last-word-freak - Beta - Blog - Nudepics - Censor - Globalwarming - WorldPeace - Ms. Universe - Antarctica - Captain Cook - Santa -

If you encounter a trail like the above, behold, you are watching a master at work. He is still not diagnosed as the LWF but he is witty and playing along. If he is diagnosed as the LWF, then you may have discovered the rarest breed of LWF who, sometimes can be quite fun to have around. Now, comes the test (Remember, Santa is your word):-

Santa - Paedophile - NowIamGettingTired - Vitamins - NoSeriously - Quitter - AlrightIamOffNow - Loser - StopIT - WristWatch - What! - Why - Sorry? - Hard

The above will be a sureshot diagnosis that you have a Super-LWF at hand. He probably roams the streets at night in black clothes and stiff upper-lip and talks the criminals into jail. You dont want to be at wit-loggerheads with him any more than drill a jackhammer through his head. However, you dont want to miss out on your entertainment tonic of the day when he is at work on somebody else.

So, have you encountered any Last Word Freaks recently?

For sheer driving pleasure

Past weekend, I drove about a thousand kms for a memorable trip. But this post is not as much about the trip as about the road (non)sense going on around me. To be fair, I might have also contributed to it but I will choose to ignore that at my discretion.

Let us start with the ubiquitous trailers. In the context of driving, Trailers are species that like to smell others' asses and contrary to my prior-belief, the number of trailers on the road is exponentially proportional to the overall traffic. Consider this, you are driving in the top-speed lane which is going at 100+ with a lot of cars in front and behind. Herein arrives a Trailer who can see that there are miles and miles of cars bumper to bumper but he still wants to overtake you (probably to smell the next ass upfront). The middle lane is obviously going slow and you would rather drive at 100+ than move aside. There is nothing you can do but be agitated by this trailer. His nose is right under your smokey behind and you are afraid that in the event of braking, he is going to go "up yours". For a moment, you consider braking just a bit to bring him to his senses but it doesnt help that he is driving a beat-up lorry while you are driving a GTI.

The opposite of a trailer is an idiot. An idiot is the guy who is driving in top speed lane but is driving too slow. He is merrily oblivious of the traffic behind him and doesnt even get the hint when a lot of cars, in direct violation to their basic survival instincts, are forced to overtake from the left. They can all go to hell and back, for all he cares; he is going to drive at the speed he is comfortable with (nothing wrong with it) and he will drive in the top-speed lane (bloody idiot). In my opinion, such people should be reclassified as sub-human species with their licenses revoked till such time as they naturally evolve into humans over millions of years or go extinct (more likely).

Somewhere in between, are the Smartasses. These are people who THINK they are smarter than the rest. Dont we have enough of them in daily life? Well, they are just as common on road too. They think they can beat the market. They stare at the traffic ahead and take it as a challenge to barge their way through. They will cut lanes without indicators; all the way left, then all the way right and sometimes into the emergency lane as well. Oftentimes, I wonder if they drive more sideways than forwards. Infact, I personally know a smartass very well who is, thankfully, leaving the city for good. I couldnt feel safer while driving.

I was thinking about some punchlines that these guys could put on their car. See below:

If you dont like the way I am driving:
- get off the road
- stop trailing me
- get a life
- that makes two of us
- take a number
- Huh?

Any further suggestions?

Occupational Hazards of being a Superhero - II

While waiting at the check-in counter, I happened to glance through the barred items list. At first, I found it funny that somebody had actually taken trouble to explicitly bar explosives, flammable gases, cutting tools, gun-powder, toxic substances etc. But then, I pondered over the difficulties faced by the world saviors when they choose to travel and I was moved to tears.


Yes, Superheroes do need to travel by traditional means. Can you imagine Spiderman swinging his way outside of Newyork? What if he has to chase Sandman across territories devoid of high-rises? Batman is no exception either. Superman, theoretically, doesnt need tranditional transport but he can be immigration authorities' headache and aerospace securities' nightmare. A few weeks back, a small private unidentified aircraft carrying two drunk Australians in Singapore contributed to a 45 minutes shut-down of Airport operations. A couple of missile carrying fighter jets were hastily summoned, just in case. Now, give your imagination some exercise and substitute the private aircraft with Superman. Lets also add in the fact that the world will be saved mostly in big cities where the aerospace is monitored even more closely. Phew; Superman will be straddled with fighter jets spewing heat-seeking missiles and before you know it, he might miss out on saving the world.


But then, may be Superman will succumb and try using conventional flights. He will have to break laws for illegally carrying laser eyes. He will, of course, disguise them behind his spectacles . Although, it is not in line with Superman's character to break laws but he may justify this in favor of the greater good. Batman, on the other hand, will have no qualms about breaking such rules. He will simply presume that they dont apply to him. He does have his own set of problems, though. He cant possibly carry batarangs, batmobile etc. while travelling out of Gotham city. Theoretically, he can use his private Bat-plane to travel but even that is subjected to the same jurisdiction. The only way out is to use his financial muscle to bribe his way through. Afterall, he is useless without his gadgets.

Spiderman will also be barred for carrying toxic web-slingers on him. Infact, his spider-sense might also interfere with the airoplane's communication system. He may take down a few flights in an effort to save a distant part of the world. A small price, some would say but again, completely not in line with Peter Parker's character.

If I were a Superhero, I would have taken over the world and not be worried about such hassles ever. But as Batman mentions "It is a remarkable dichotomy. In many ways, Clark is the most human of us all. Then, he shoots fire from the sky and it is difficult not to think of him as God. And how fortunate we all are that it does not occur to him."

PS - If you like this post, check out Occupational Hazards of being a Super Hero - I too.

Goodness exists; more so in simple gestures

I am rushing to the airport in a cab after a long day filled with tiresome meetings. My companion is talking to me in between taking calls from his boss. My mind is wandering somewhere I dont remember. I am not sure if I have my travel documents on me but I am too fatigued to make sure. We arrive at the airport and are almost instantaneously in the flight cabin. I try to sleep but the crying baby one row ahead on the right is not helping much. My companion is coiled because of the super-chilled interior but is still fast asleep. I am shivering. I notice a couple of fellow travellers asking for a blanket; but I cant be bothered. I am in a zone and I dont like it here.

The flight has landed. In an effort to get out of the spaced-out mode, I spring into action and collect my bag before anybody could get up. Others follow me but all of us are put back into our seats because of a stern stewardess. Finally, we are allowed to get out. I am feeling a little light and surely I am missing something. I check my pockets and sure as hell, my car-keys are absconding. I stay back and check my seat, its bottom and underside; no luck. I come out wondering where I might have dropped them; no clue. My companion calls up the cab-driver; no response.

Meanwhile, somewhere in the port of embarkation, the cab is trudging along. The new passanger finds the car-key and hands it over to Amardeep. He is perplexed and starts making calls to the previous passangers. Some answer; some dont. None owned the key. He sleeps restlessly.

I wake up the next morning and go through another hectic day. In between, I find time to call up my car-agent. It will take two weeks and around 500USD to get a duplicate since it is a coded key. I dont understand what it means but accept it.

Meanwhile, Amardeep figures the car company name as well as the license number plate from the keys. He drives around 50kms to get to volkswagen showroom, tries to enquire but is shoo-ed away, albeit like an untouchable. He doesnt give up. He looks up the various show-rooms in yellow pages and drives another 25 kms to another showroom. The folks here know me because I had given them a tough time when my car air-conditioner wasnt working. They identify me but want Amardeep to hand-over the keys. Amardeep persists with the keys and finally manages to get my mobile-number from them.

I get a call from Amardeep. He is coming to pick me up when I get back and he is going to bring the car-key. I arrive back. I dont remember what he looks like. He is the anonymous and faceless guy one meets everyday on the street, in cabs, at restaurants, in the elevators and in bars. I am too afraid to ask him for his cab license-plate because I dont want to offend him lest he should think I dont remember him. I am roaming around outside the airport when a guy calls me over. I finally get to meet him. He is of medium height, slightly over-weight with a beard and a turban. He is ecstatic at meeting me; his little excitement for the past couple of days finally reaching its logical conclusion. He strikes a conversation as he drives me to my car and cant help unfolding his quest. I cant believe my luck.

The downside isnt much for me. Two weeks of struggling with public transport and 500USD. It is manageable.

The upside isnt much for Amardeep. Wasting time driving around on a wild-goose chase finding the owner of car-keys. I would not have done that.

But he did and without any expectation of any reward.

When you are faced with a dying man on the roadside, you have a choice to take him to hospital or feel guilty for the rest of your life. Hardly a choice.

When you find a car-key, you do have the choice to throw it away without the slightest guilt.

Goodness exists; more so in simple gestures.

Demise of Pen

An extraordinary event happened way back in my life...

When I reached sixth grade, I was allowed to use pen. Before that, we were forced to use pencils, in an effort to improve our hand-writing and in cognizance of the fact that as toddlers, we were prone to making typos. My earlier prized-possessions of pencils, rubbers and sharpeners were replaced by pens, ink and ball-point, chinese and local, long and small, paid for and bartered. Along also came the arsenal of nibs of varying points, inkpots of differing shades, refills of varying length and use-by dates etc. I was blissful.

An extra-ordinary event happened recently in my life...

I actually finished a pen; in other words, I actually ran out the refill in a pen. Seemingly innocuous, but I cant remember the last time, I actually used up an entire pen. Well, to be fair, I didnt really use this particular pen by myself (Heck, I dont even know how I landed up with this pen in my pocket); nonetheless, I actually witnessed the historical event. I am not sure off late, how many of us witness a pen being used up entirely!!

So an extraordinary realization happened recently in my life...

I cant remember the last time I bought a pen. I think I might have forgotten how to do that. But, I still have a few dozens of pen lying at various corners of my house, in my car, in my bag and in my office drawers. In fact, I suspect that the recent clogging up of my water-pipes might have been contributed by some pen or the other finding its way there. A little flash-back revealed a number of times when I came to office with one pen and left with something entirely different, when I borrowed a pen from a fellow traveller to fill in the immigration card and absent-mindedly put it in my pocket, and so on and so forth and vice versa.

Thus ends an extraordinary era, well, almost...

There will be no more pens; only PDAs; there will be no more letters, only emails.

Movie Review: No Smoking

Recently, I was watching "Don" (the old and better version) at a friend's place. Among his collection, by chance, I stumbled upon a DVD called "No Smoking" which I watched over the weekend. It is one of those movies that I would have never seen but for the title. As it so happens, three of my friends are trying to quit smoking. They have taken all kinds of measures like using nicotine patches, creating social pressures by advertising their "I have quit smoking" campaign, using sugar-free candies, avoiding tea/caffeine/coke etc. I dont think they will succeed though (I am trying reverse psychology; but lets keep it a secret).

The movie is largely based upon Stephen Hawking's short story "Quitters Inc." which, by the way, was also filmed as one of the three parallel stories in the hollywood movie "Cat's eye". Directed by Anurag Kashyap, "No smoking" is horror treated in a dark comical fashion. Very creatively told, the plot revolves around a chain-smoker who enrolls himself into rehabilitation with "Prayogshala" which puts a heavy price-tag on each puff stolen. Once you have enrolled, your first puff will land your loved ones in a gas chamber filled with the cumulative smoke of all sticks that you have smoked so far. If you still cannot keep away, your second puff will mean that your fingers will be cut. The next puff will result into disappearance of your loved ones and if that doesnt deter you, there is more in offing (You have got to watch the movie). The most interesting part of the movie is the way it has been shot - backwards/forwards/sideways. The sets are gloomy, offering very little details and as a result, the entire focus lies on the actors with the motion picture independent of its context; well largely anyways. The performances by Paresh Rawal and Ranveer Shourie are fantastic and even John Abraham isnt that bad. And you just cant have enough of the title song, check out the Movie Trailer.

PS - Dont quit after the first scene. You will have a strong urge; suppress it.

The new year marks the death of cricket

The Aussie tour controversy rages on and is gathering steam. I am biased but still not as extreme in my view as some of the Aussies are, specifically Peter Roebuck. Refer the below two articles (The first one contains Roebuck's article in Sydney Herald):

http://www.smh.com.au/news/cricket/arrogant-ponting-must-be-fired/2008/01/07/1199554571883.html

http://content-usa.cricinfo.com/ausvind/content/story/329708.html

I personally agree with Border when he says that most of it is cultural misunderstanding. But that is where my agreement ends. I think Australian team, specifically, Ponting/Clarke/Symonds have failed to recognize that cultural diversity, time and again now. What is worst is the way they are still defending their position. A tragic time for cricket. Thoughts?

Steve Bucknor - Man of the match

Thank you all for helping my hit-count cross thousand. Many more thousands to come. Meanwhile, keep visiting (And comment, if you feel like it:-)).

The day 4 at SCG was filled with edges, almost spectacular catches (but not quite), definite negative play by Australia and incredulously bad upmiring. Before all that, however, Bhajji presented us with another proud occassion - Ponting's wicket within his first over. His celebration was as jubiliant as it was unrehearsed. He has now dismissed Ponting the maximum number of times for any bowler. That is some feat. I still dont like Bhajji, however, who has gotten himself smack in the middle of another racial controversy involving Symonds.

Hayden and Hussey played reasonably ok but not quite the scoring duo that they normally are. Clear negative play by Australia; not something we expected. The natives were also shouting "boring-boring" and it wasnt an exaggeration. Kumbles produced yet another couple of wickets out of nothing. The guy is a fighting machine. However, the man of the match will be Steve Bucknor who gave bad decision on a couple of occassions and one of them, Hussey is still out there (like Symonds was in the first inning). If Bucknor had his way, he would not have given even Clarke out who was caught off an edge at first slip. Clear deflection and noise (the catch was taken at first slip for crying out loud), but Bucknor was caught sleeping. Clarke refused to walk and it was only after a brief commotion where the audience (Aussies/Indians included)were stumped that he was finally given out. Incredulous !!! Mr. Steve finally resorted to bad light to avoid any further embarassment. I think his umpiring days should be over.

Curse lifted

We witnessed Sachin break his 90-jinx on his way to score 150+. It took the four of us to come all the way to Sydney to break that curse but oh my, was it not worth its while!!! I swear I have smudged my life-line short while clapping away to each of his shot.

We have a decent lead and the trick is, as always, to get them out within tomorrow. Lets see.

Last evening, I had the fortune to meet Rishi aka country who gave us quite a download on friendship, how it is formed and maintained. Among various underlying reasons offered for any group's friendship were loyalty, transparency etc. However, we all finally concluded that we are good friends within our group because at the very basic level, we are all idiots which gravitated us towards each other.

Yesterday evening, we also did a bit of shopping. Lal/Ganji have bought pointy shoes, so they will now be the lady-killers on the dance-floor (Literally). I bought some nice pair of jeans for cheap (Stocktake sale) and also bought a t-shirt and a shirt. $200 under. Lal was $600 under (Not including his ever-increasing poker losses)!!

Indians are back again (Sung as Backstreet's back again)

We had an insight yesterday while comparing notes on the local media's coverage of cricket. They are full of respect for Indian team. They think that if there is any team that can stop the Aussie Juggernaut from rewriting the world record of most consecutive test wins, its India. It seems that we have been too harsh on Indian team. Or may be it is just that the standards are harsher in the family.

One thing is for sure, Australia is rewriting the way test-cricket is being played. Take the first inning, for example. They lost six quick wickets but their scoring rate never dipped below four. It is almost saying that losing wickets is a matter of time, so we might as well make the most of the four or five sessions that we get to bat for. It definitely does push for results and it seems to be working for them. I would not talk about fielding intensity which I have covered before.

So, on day 2, we got up pretty late. As hoped, Aussie innining was bundled but for a massive 463 and we could not even get Symonds out. As predicted, Jaffer lost his wicket early on. Laxman was, however, delightful in the way he batted. As we settled onto our seats, we were welcomed by a vintage Laxman batting. He hit four boundaries of a Mitchell Johnson over, just before drinks. As we filed out for a break, we were all unusually silent. After some time, we figured that we were all silently thinking about and admiring his strokes. The best thing was each one of us picked a different stroke to be the best among the lot. Laxman, of course, went on to hit a century.

Dravid, on the other hand, was a story of pure temperament. He stayed at 18 for over an hour. Towards the end of that hour, there was so much hooting/din for every ball he faced that I cant believe he still didnt flirt with that ball outside off. When he scored his nineteenth run, it was like a thunderclap; he just kept smiling. A commentator said - "They dont call him WALL for nothing. Look out there. There is a wall (The Aussie infield) around him and still nothing is happening."

Its a pity that both of them got out at around the same time. Both of them got a standing ovation and so did the incoming Sachin Tendulkar. You have to give it to the Aussies who love and respect a fighter, be it of any team.

I am hoping for a double from Sachin today. Arent you? I think even some aussies are secretly wishing for that, for the love of the game.

Down in the dumps

Happy new year to you all.

Our new year celebration plan was quite simple, made extraordinary by the rowdy crowd on Sydney streets. We celebrated with Irish (Ganji/Lal talked to a few of them for many minutes and could not understand a single word - To quote Snatch, bloody pikeys), with Indians (They were doing bhangara on the street and were in serious risk of getting beaten up; so we refused to associate ourselves with them)and of course Aussies (Cheers, Mate). We witnessed the "best fireworks since the millenium" but found it quite ordinary and ended the night wishing for a grand new year for Indian cricket team and development of alternate sources of energy (Dont ask!)

The following day was spent roaming around Sydney. We took a monorail and landed up at the Opera House. Like most great architecture, it looks better in person than in photographs. The walk around was positively energizing and I was silently wishing for the sunset to never happen. It, however, did and we moved to Opera bar which offers a great view of the bridge as well as the Opera house. We mocked around there for a while before having a delicious Korean meal. The night consisted of light poker and I lost for the first time (Did I mention first time?).

Sydney cricket ground is a lot smaller and more uptight than MCG (Surprisingly considering the crowd behavior during new year's). One has to sit in alloted seats and there are hardly any "You are a wanker" or "Show us your handcuffs" taunts. The day for Indian cricket, however, could not be any worse. Having taken six wickets for less than 120, we allowed the hometeam to come back from behind and spit in our faces. Andrew Symonds batted beautifully, although he was probably out caught behind off Ishant Sharma in his twenties but Mr. bucknor was as biased as ever. In any case, truth be told, Indian deserved this. The Indian team was a replica of the "Chak-De" hockey team in the first half. There was Yuvraj Singh not joining in team huddles and celebrations and there was Bhajji stomping in disgust at an otherwise decent fielding from Dada. Misfielding galore; catches dropped; overthrows conceded. All-in-all, it was a miracle we even got the early breaks (More out of bad shot selection than anything).

Can Indians beat Australia? Surely, on an off day, that is. They might even win a series due to individual talent aided by a lucky streak. But they are definitely not a team that deserves to beat the world champions. That would not prevent me from hoping that they do, though.

The (In)Tense Indians

Firstly, I offer my apologies for a late posting. I was just recovering from the rather bad display of cricket from India. The first test is wrapped up in less than four days and Ricky Ponting has not even arrived as yet. If I were to analyze it to death (I cant help it; it comes with Indian blood), I would think there are a few basic areas that Australia out-played India;

First and foremost is the Aussie intensity. This is the first time I saw with my own eyes the intensity of Aussie players in field. Whether they are batting, bowling or fielding, they are always busy with one thing or the other. With the day simmering at 40 degrees, and if an Aussie fielder doesn’t get a ball to run after(With India batting, that is a very high likelihood), he will be either stretching at inhuman angles or shining the ball for the bowler or simply erupting in a sprint back and forth. On the contrary, Saurav Ganguly will be asking for a physiotherapist within his first hour of batting. He probably shares his match fees with Dinesh Karthik who is always on in his stead in the field. The rest of the fielders are upto no good either. We do have Yuvraj Singh who is a reasonably decent fielder but that is where the list ends. The only real intense player is probably Anil Kumble who just keeps coming at you irrespective of the hour of the day or the opposition. Australia, on the other hand, has a long list starting with Hayden, Symonds, Ponting, Stuart Clark and even Mitchell Johnson.

The second area would definitely be the batting. I think our bowling was pretty disciplined, the pitch was fairly neutral and we lost this match because of our mediocre batting. This is when we have four of the world’s top batsmen in our team. But they simply could not be bothered. Only batsmen who played better, relatively that is, are Laxman, Sachin and Ganguly. Any talks about revitalizing Indian team with fresh blood can go for a heavenly toss; Yuvraj Singh and Dhoni could not bat if their lives depended upon it.

The third area will be the captaincy. Anil Kumble has simply not been able to galvanize the team into action. He just hasn’t been able to influence, be it the idiotic batting order, or simply the lack of his match-winning ability (He is a talented player but he cannot win us matches). I also have serious concerns about a bowler being a successful captain. We actually thought about all kinds of bowler-captains and could not think of a single guy who was really successful. Unfortunately, our two lead contestants are a bowler and a wicket keeper, hardly much of a choice.

The 29th night was an interesting night where I came face to face with the legend Erinc Ilkehan. His stories have been doing rounds in Singapore for ages now with some aftersparks in Malaysia as well. Funny and full of life, he showed us some of the night life in Melbourne more of which is covered at footnotesonpage4.

We are now in Sydney for the second test and of course the new years eve. Before heading out, we spent a nice afternoon playing Beach Cricket in Melbourne. I surprised the folks and myself with some nice bowling. Ganji claimed I was chucking. I pointed out the similarity between myself and the world's greatest bowler (arguably) which disappointed a few Srilankans into whacking me for big sixes. That was the end of my rather short-lived bowling career.

The new year beckons and offers a clean slate yet again. Lets see what India does about it. We have the tickets to a nice party close-by and are looking forward to it. To all of you folks, Happy Days.

Aussie ki tehsi-day 4

Let me start of by conveying my special regards for the warm hospitality extended to us by ponna(in spite of his passionate pleas to unfold my jeans), his family(reinforcing my belief that the subcontinental folks - curries all share the same values deep within), his extended family(from the psychologist jenny to the cricket crazy uncles and aunts). I will be an utter idiot, however if I didn't mention uncle ponna (I want to grow up to be that guy) and annie (can anybody ever do more for us and still feel inadequate). Thanks to you all, our stay here has been a tripper of a trip and that is inspite of the way india is playing.

Alright, wiping the tears aside, let's get to something less taxing. My memory is acting funny(only cricket is safely preserved in a chronological manner, the rest is all hazy), so I am going to mention things in no particular order.

Last two evenings have been a riot. The first evening was spent watching the musical phantom of the opera. And what a breathtaking display of a moving storyline accentuated by elaborate set (it was like magical hat throwing out wonders after fantasies), a soundtrack to be taken to a deserted island and dazzling use of light. To me, sitting in the theatre, it was as good as any multi-million dollar hollywood movie. I think we are gonna follow it up with the opera at opera house in sydney.

We followed it up with dinner and poker. This was the first time lal and myself played poker in a casino with ganji and bangalore as our cheerleaders. I won a few, lal lost a few but it was an experience. I am glad that there are no easily accessible casinos where I live.

Last night was a chilled out night. We spent hours roaming in melbourne, checking out cafes after pubs, had a nice dinner at jaiselmer (once the ponnas knew that jaiselmer is in rajasthan- my homeland, they had to go there). I am still struggling with my motions, I just hope they are alright.

As I write this from mcg, india has lost two wickets. Dravid played like an idiot yet again, having done the hard work and giving it away to symonds (??) And that too just two balls before lunch. I mean we all have our phases where we just can't wait to eat, but this is just too much. He could have waited a bit longer, I reckon.

We are looking at a mammoth task of staying on for one and a half more days. Doable? I think so but then so does bhajji (in whose judgement I have no faith). We will see, won't we?

Aussie ki Tehsi: Day 2 and part 3

Well, well, well. Except Sachin Tendulkar and VVS Laxman, nobody else looked like scoring much. Ganguly/Dravid did show some tough and gritty work out there, but it didnt come up to much good, proving my theory to be a bunch of crap. Well, what good is an Indian cricket fan, if he is brought down by failure of his theories. Afterall, he continues to be at the height of "bouncebackability" even with India continuing to disappoint him through the entire time that he has come to know and love cricket. On day 2, the session count became 2-4 with Australia dominating four out of six sessions. As I write this, Australia has set India a target of 499 with more than half the test time remaining. Is that arrogance or well-founded professionalism? We will sure find out today and tomorrow. India has survived the second session and as they toil for the third, we are heading out to take a look at the Chapell Street. Being true fans, we cant possible survive a live viewing without a heart-attack or two. Plus, if we are away, India seems to stand a better chance.

I will repeat myself when I say that the result is very much in the offing. We can play to draw; that choice has been snatched away from us. The only way out is to play to win. If we survive today with at least eight wickets to spare, then we should be looking to close the deal within tomorrow. On the other hand, we may just be bundled out by noon tomorrow.

Well, all the best to Indian team and to us.

Aussie ki Tehsi: Day 1

Predictable as we were, we could not make it in time for the train journey and were in serious risk of missing the first ball of the Boxing Day test match. We ended up driving to the stadium, were hit by the bad news of Ricky Ponting winning the toss yet again and electing to bat (whatever happened to the principles of greater good). Having reached the stadium, we wasted some more time talking to a group of boisterous Aussie blokes making their breakfast on the grill right outside. We exchanged some witty comments about India’s chances of winning. In the end, thankfully, we made it in time for the first ball.

And what an atmosphere it was. All my adjectives have already been used up by commentators and in a bid for being authentic, I would just have to say that you have to be there to believe it. Among chants for Aussie,Aussie,Aussie: Oi, Oi, Oi, there were enough Swamy Armies out there to match the decibel levels. Folks were drinking beer as soon as 10:30 in the morning when the very first of India were just waking up to hot cups of tea. We were sitting at the top of the stadium and the view was breath-taking. Ganji, our unofficial photographer (the official photographer – Lal proved to be upto no good) took some really cool pics; check one on the left.

Zahir Khan and Ruddar bowled really well in the first hour; the scoreline at 48/0 in 12 overs, however, didn’t do any justice to that. By 11:30, we were all pretty dismal and we decided to shake up the cosmos by doing something different in a bid to help Indian cause. For perspective, whenever myself/Lal have watched a game together, India has lost in the most depressing manner possible. So, we decided to get out of the stadium and check out the Great Ocean Drive (Couple of hours away). As we were walking, we saw the very first wicket fall and as a gesture of immense sacrifice for Team India, we kept walking. Why change something that seems to be working.

During the drive, we listened to a combination of local commentary (The best I have heard, delivered in a Seinfeld manner) and Ponna’s choicest swearing directed to whoever attempted to thwart our way. Karthik Bangalore slept for the most part while we listened to the fall of wickets, one after the other. A part of our heart was missing the live action at the stadium while the other was happy with the way we had unshackled India from the mysterious way the Cosmos operated. In the end, our team broke down and myself/Lal were blamed for the inept decision of leaving the stadium. We took it like men who had done the right thing for the greater good.

The great ocean drive wasn’t bad. Ganji got some pretty decent shots. I am publishing the left over pics, the best ones are available at his blog. See some on the left(Full of vanity as you will notice):


Towards the end of the drive, Ponna miraculously remembered that the BMW had an in-built TV and after a brief period of Ponna-bashing, we stopped the car and turned on the TV. Australia were 8-wickets down by then. We watched Mitchell Johnson clearly caught by yuvraj Singh off Anil Kumble which was not given out; thereby justifying our decision not to watch the match. We turned the TV off and drove off and were instantaneously rewarded with the fall of ninth wicket. Lal was so moved that he went to the extent of suggesting that we don’t watch the match the next day as well so as not to disturb the favorable forces, but after a thorough discussion about the pros/cons lasting a tick or two, we decided against it. Towards the evening, We were told off by Uncle Ponna for deserting Indian team. He said that inspite of being a Srilankan, he was a bigger fan, having watched every ball of the match.

About cricket, the day was great for India but 350+ (which is what they may eventually score) keeps the match pretty much evenly balanced. What has worked for India is Kumble and possibly increasing pace of the wicket as time passes by. What has not worked for India is bad fielding and Australian tail-enders. Looking at the profile of who has scored today, they have all made gritty runs (Matthew Hayden scored just nine boundaries in his century). The ones who have failed are the ones who are otherwise class-act to watch but have failed today while playing flashy shots against a reasonably disciplined bowling. It seems to me that the gritty ones (Dravid/ Ganguly and possible Dhoni) will survive and they will have to dig even deeper because Australian bowling attack promises to be much more disciplined than ours.

With the Australian inning almost wrapped up within the day, a result is in the offing. I just hope that our team realizes it and plays to win.

Aussie ki Tehsi: The night before the DAY

After a hupsh flight comprising of insomnia, three movies interrupted by slightly noisy cuddling couple in the next seats and intermittent bad French wine, we finally landed early morning (by my standards) in Melbourne. Well, at least for Lal and myself, it was still a direct flight as opposed to our other partner in crime and cheap Ganji who had taken a four-hour stop-over at Perth in the dead hours of night. He, infact, started two hours before us and arrived two hours after.

I was looking forward to some authentic Aussie welcome but was utterly disappointed in the warm and friendly people at the airport. The guys even helped me carry my luggage in small snippets off and on the conveyer belt. The airport was small but people were big, really big. I spent the next couple of hours waiting for Ponna and used it to make small talks with Lal and later, having exhausted that possibility, moved on to read the Melbourne tourist booklet. The city is worth coming to, even without cricket. But that is not what this trip is about now, is it.

Ponna arrived, followed by Ganji an hour later and we were immediately off to a marathon luncheon lasting a good three hours. Held at Ponna’s family friend and attended by the Who’s who of overseas Srilankan community (One of whom offered us his BMW during our stay which we gladly took up), it was a pleasant atmosphere and at any other time, it would have been an awesome welcome. Just that, all three of us had not slept for the past 24-30 hours and were really zonked out accompanied by temporary attention deficit disorder. The food was awesome and the prayer administered before the food, touching. Just before zoning out to dreamland, we helped a friend patch up a rocky relationship in the true American Pie fashion and be done with the good deed of the day.

Rejuvenated with a three hour sleeping session (Somehow, I slept like a log even with Ganji sleeping right next in a bed the size of which will embarrass hobbits), we finally got to meet Karthik Bangalore. The stage is set for an adventurous trip with all riders uniquely equipped (with the exception of yours truly). It turns out that Kartik is an avid sports freak with his databank and strong opinions spread from baseball to rugby, an ideal guy to chip away at during a moment of dullness (which will be hard to come by, in the first place).

The evening was spent in warm debate with Uncle Ponna over topics ranging from Srilankan cricket to firing employees to spotting stars in southern light and with Auntie Ponna over chick-flicks/Bodyline TV series, the background made colorful by masala chai, homemade cake and “You have got mail” aired on TV.

We are all united in our view that Indians should win the toss and bat first. Since the latter is the key objective, we pondered over writing a petition to Ricky Ponting for letting India bat for the greater good, in the event that he wins the toss, but somehow, the odds didn’t seem right.

Tomorrow is D-day and I am still up at 3.30AM local time. I just hope that I get up in time for the train journey that promises to be such a cultural event full of racial taunts. I am looking forward to it.

For an alternate view, refer Footnotes on page 4. Typed at around the same time, no notes compared.

Aussie ki Tehsi: Prefeed

Folks,

I have embarked on a trip of a lifetime - Watching Boxing day test match between India and Australia at the MCC. This will also roughly be the time that my entire generation of cricketers (Sachin Tendulkar/ Rahul Dravid/ Saurav Ganguly/ VVS Laxman/Anil Kumble) will make way for the next. I have grown up and loved to watch cricket with these players; sometimes, they have messmerized me with their exquisite display of skills, at other times, they have left me disgusted with utterly impossibly infant-like disregard for winning. Heck, they are no different from anybody out there who has seen similar mix of jubiliant successes and miserable failures. And I still love them.

I arrived in Singapore last evening from KL, Malaysia. I covered 401 KMs in exactly 3:47 hours, door to door which includes immigration and a ten minute stopover for refuelling. I touched a top speed of 240 km/hour; all thanks to a wonderful 2.0L 200hp Volkswagen Golf GTI (the one that was featured in Bourne Ultimatum - after I bought it, by the way) and awesome music (I spent the previous weekend burning CDs with the best music that I could think of). With the stage set for the upcoming trip, I am restless like the teenage guy the night before his first date.

And what a series it promises to be. The five cricketers, I mentioned before are almost sure never to visit down-under as players in future. Down-under is also the last frontier for most cricket playing nations. India is also the only team to have come closest to winning the series here the last time, in 2002-03 which ended in a draw. The team has the same unforgetting foursome of Dravid/Laxman/Ganguly/Tendulkar combined with the young and aggressive Yuvraj/Dhoni. The current bowling attack is better than the last one but relatively speaking Aussie bowling attack is nowhere close to what it was back then, what with Warne/Mcgrath out of picture. Not taking anything away from Australia who kicked the heck out of us just recently and at home; if it can ever happen, Indians stand the best chance now.

I will be flying out to Melbourne alongwith three other guys from the same generation, Sharad J. Lal/Nitin Gajaria/Kartik Bangalore (And I thought only blacks had fancy names, no racism intended) and we will be hosted by none other than Eshan Ponnadurai (I am looking forward to the barbeque on the boxing day eve at his home). This will be followed by new year's celebration at Sydney and of course the second test at sydney. Savvy?

Over the course of next fortnight or so, you can expect daily updates on the test-series on this blog from the eyes of an average cricket fan posted right from the stadium stand. I will try to be biased but my respect for good cricket might come in the way. You can be the judge.

PS - For non-curry folks, Aussie ki tehsi loosely translates as "To hell with the Aussies"