If only.....

It was 2:30 in the morning, 30 minutes before start of play. He switched on the television and turned up the volume. In anticipation of this match, he had slept on the couch all night, or part of the night till then, with the remote close by.
The India-Pakistan-Australia tri series (Carlton and United Series) being played in Australia, was on and India was playing Pakistan. Ravi lived for such moments. Throughout his childhood, he like many others, had been brought up on cricket trivia, facts and figures and little anecdotes which made the game all the more quaint. He knew all about the Ashes, could rattle off the playing XI of the English team that lost to West Indies in the finals of the WC 1979, Andy Flower's Test as well as ODI stats and even Sachin Tendulkar's favorite sweet dish!But hey... so could a million other people right? After all, we were talking about Cricket - A religion in India.

Having heard him wake up, Amitha, Ravi's ever-caring mother got up to see if he needed a snack. "Would you like to eat a sandwich Ravi?" she asked. That was greeted with a grunt which was deciphered as a "yes". No time to talk woman - India vs Pakistan happening. So she set off to the kitchen to make her son a midnight snack. While she was at it, she also put the kettle on to boil so that he could wash his snack down with a hot cup of tea.

Outside the kitchen, some 7500 kilometers away, Mohammad Azharuddin had won the toss and this had made Ravi excited. "We're batting, we're batting", he was shouting, oblivious to the fact that the world around him was in deep slumber. Amitha, visibly annoyed hissed out to Ravi to keep it down. "Shhhh Ravi, everyone is sleeping". So he did.
In 10 minutes, just as Sachin Tendulkar was walking in to bat, Amitha brought out the sandwich and tea on a tray and stood besides Ravi, whos eyes were closed. He was saying a small prayer - A ritual that was followed before any India game. 

"Oh god, may Sachin Tendulkar hit a century today and make India win. May Srinath break Inzamam's teeth and kumble take 5 wickets...."

This being said, he opened his eyes, stood up and groped about for something in the dark as his mom watched from a distance. He finally found his walking stick, flipped it open and deftly made his way to the toilet, waving his stick to avoid collision with any furniture. Amitha wiped off a tear, one of many she had wiped off like that in the past. She placed the plate on the coffee table besides where he was sitting and quietly went back into the darkness of her room.

Ravi was congenitally blind. Yet, cricket was his life. He worshipped the game. 

If only the Indian cricket team could hear that voice whenever he prayed - And those of a billion other people who wished them well. If only that famous start-studded Indian cricket team knew the passion their fellow Indians had for the sport. If only those overpaid professionals understood that a loss in a match was way more than just a few statistics artfully woven about by mathematicians. If only.........

i pods ROCK

I don't know how many people will read this. I really don't care!But this is for anyone who cares to listen

" I PODS ROCK!!!!"

Let me explain this emotion that I have shown.

It just so happens that I was gifted an iPod shuffle for my birthday. At the same time, the phone in my possession happened to be Nokia 5300 (music version - Xpress music - positioned as a phone with portable music). Having used this phone for 5 months, I was under the impression that there was no difference between this and any other music player(mP3 player). After all, it did have 1GB of storage space, awesome earphones and a convenient user interface - Nokia's premium music phone of its day. Why would anyone need anything else?
At the same time, many people have told me that Apple products were overrated. The Mac, the PC.... and even the iPod... I had heard them out.

Enter - i Pod --> this led to something I had never heard in my life - Perfection - the sound of music!My brains were blown out of my skull!!!.... Gosh.. The clarity of sound and the attention to detail, the delicate balance of bass and treble... It was any music lovers dream to listen to music so clear, loud and without distortions and crackling background noises.

Why I write this piece is, last night, before going to sleep, I put my phone for charging next to my head as usual. However, by chance, my phone headphones were lying around. I decided to listen some music before I fell asleep. And since Rock on seems to be the in thing these days, Rock on it was. It took me 20 seconds to turn it off. It was ghastly. After being pampered with such perfection, anything else seemed worse than ordinary.

How can people still throw stones at such a modern marvel?
Sheeeeesh!

Briton? HAHAHAHAHAHAHA

The British are a funny race. In fact I can easily say that the British are the funniest people alive. The English Football team for example, is the biggest joke on earth, since the previous biggest joke winner (i.e. former England cricket team who's most outstanding feature was Andrew Caddick's ears.)It is only fitting that such a ridiculously funny country has Prince Charles as its figure head... well almost(I deliberately chose Prince Charles here cos he's way funnier than his mum. I almost die laughing on merely seeing the man.....).

Coming to think of it, anything and everything that the Brits have done since the sun set on that Great British Stiff Upper lip, has been a big joke. Rolls Royce, Jaguar, Cherie Blair's contraceptive promotion program(wait a minute, doesnt she have 4 kids?), Prince Charles, Margeret Thacher's hairstyle, their nuclear program(which is made to look like a toy gun arsenal when compared to the Soviet Program in the Yes Minister series), Prince Harry's war efforts, Mad cows, naming hills after Wimbledon's biggest loosers... this list is endless really.

Talking about Tim Henmen and Henmen Hills, another hilarious trait of the British is the way that they hero worship their "Sports achievers" (Read: looooosers). When England beat Australia in the Ashes after close to 3 billion attempts, they wanted to Knight Andrew Flintoff. Huh... When England fluked the Rugby world cup, they ACTUALLY knighted the captain of the team(I forgot the blokes name). In fact Knighthood has become such a joke now (hence getting back to the point of the article) that it wont be long before they start dishing out blue ribbons at souvenier stores. And since we are still on the topic of British stupidity and sports, doesnt it really crack you up when you hear David Beckham's squeeky tone? I can swear on all the British Gods that Posh Spice has a more manly voice! (My apologies to DB fans)

On a very serious note though, the British have really excelled at creating humour. :) . (See... told you that the Brits were a funny race!). What was started by Sir PG Wodehouse in the post war era(when that famous sun I was talking about, just set on the GBE) rubbed off on the theatre industry in Britain giving rise to some of the funniest, most delightful sitcoms ever. As a person who loves good humour, British Comedy has been RIGHT on the top of my "favorite pass time" list. Black Adder, Fawlty Towers, The Monty Python's Flying Circus, Allo Allo.............Aaaargh... another endless list... All very good examples confirming my argument.

One might ask why I suddenly came up with such a ridiculous blog. Well... What can I say... I'm jobless and my Mom's just returned from her holiday. Any guesses from where?...............

Hehehehehe... Right....

BRITON!

An ode to Music - Part I

Have you ever experienced maniacal rage only to be soothed by the sound of Music? Well I sure have and I am still wondering why its taken me so long to blog about something that is so important to me in my life - a funny sort of importance actually... like one of those computer programs running in the background which keeps the system alive.

Like I said, I LOVE music, but have never taken an active part in its creation. Though I've always wanted to learn to play the drums, I have not taken an initiative to do so.
Personally, I like western music created between the 60's and the mid 90s. Before I continue, let me list down my all time 10 most favorite bands (in no particular order other than the first )

1) Queen - My all time favorite band was held together by this chap called Freddie Mercury, who incidentally, happens to be an INDIAN!!! He was born and brought up as Farook Bulsara in one of the Parsee colonies in Bombay.... He is considered to be one of the greatest musicians thtr ever walked the earth

2) The Beatles - Need no introduction! Paul's the dude :)

3) Joe Satriani - The best thing I like about western music is those crazy guitar pieces. This man Satriani, is the best guitarist alive! He makes the guitar cry..... For those who are just starting to listen to Western music, Joe is a recommended option

4) GNR (Guns n Roses)- unconventional rockers with a starking raving mad lead singer who is supposed to be a god damn eccentric genius - Axl Rose is one of those guys who was able to tame the other members in the band who were SUPER STARS by their own right (Does Slash need an introduction?). These guys had THE most extravagant live shows after another of my favorites, Pink Floyd

5) Led Zeppelin - At one point of time, the 2 main members, (Bob Plant and Jimmy Page) were regarded to be the best duo around. Led Zeppelin again, created crazy unconventional music which was very easily identifiable and which began an era of musicians who tried to ape them. Funnily, their lighter songs are so soothing, one wonders how these pot heads could make the other hard music that they made.

6) Pink Floyd - Poetry in the musical form. Their music comes under the genre psychedelic rock and absolutely must be listened to when you're tripping on a happy beer high (or any other high!)

7) Aerosmith - Steven Tyler has a mouth which will put a rubber band to shame! For those who listen to Aerosmith, they will understand what I'm trying to say. Though I dont listen to ALL their music(they are one of the longest surviving bands in the history of music), the songs I do like of theirs, feature in my top 10

8) Deep Purple - I absolutely LOVE the energy that this group has on stage or in their songs. I heard "Highway Star" as a kid and instantly fell in love with the group.

9) Billy Joel - Singer, poet, sex symbol... you name it, he's done it. His "We didnt start the fire" is moving, provocative, amazingly melodious and one of those numbers which you end up humming for the rest of the week when you hear it for the first time.

And last but not the least,
10) Lynyrd Skynyrd - Most people would have not heard of this band but Im certain that everyone (who reads this blog or otherwise) has heard thier "SWEET HOME ALABAMA". SHA is an anthem of sorts but if one likes guitar pieces, then their one number (Free bird) has arguably the best guitar piece ever. A 14 minute track, the lead guitarist just LOOSES it for 9 minutes in the end. A must hear!

This is by no means an exhaustive list. Bands that I really love but missed the list (only cos these were the first 10 that came to mind) are THE WHO, Bon Jovi(esp for Richie Sambora), Stevie Vie, U2, Eric Clapton,CCR, Smashing Pumpkins, Metallica(their lighter numbers), Live, The Eagles, Nirvana, Bob Dylan.........................
In the next part, I shall try to list down all the numbers that I really love and must be heard by people who love good rock music (and not the contemprory trash they pass off as music).

If you havent passed out reading this yet... I apologise for getting carried away!

Confuscious.....the great thinker....

I usually have something in mind before I come online to post a blog. But today I'm blank. So take this as a kind of a warning and leave NOW when you can!!! Hehehe

Like I said, I have no clue as to what I am going to write. Pretty similar to the story of my life coming to think of it. Aaaah.. the story of my life would be a good topic now wouldnt it? ....................... (long pregnant pause)............... Sharks.. there isnt much!

Throughout my life, the choices I have made have always been results of rejecting other options. For instance, I took up Science in Std 11 for the simple reason that I sucked at the arty and commercy (new adjectives please note) subjects. Besides my childhood plans of wanting to become an elephant were not very financially viable (In these days of rising inflation, sugarcane too has its price). The fact that I was rather good at Maths (still am if I have to say so myself..... does anyone hear trumpets in the background?) kind of supported my decision to take up science.

Again, when it came to the time of choosing a career path, I rejected the option of taking up a pure science cos it wasnt cool enough. Medicine was out as I couldnt spell Biyoligy properly.... :D.... and I really dint want to bust my ass studying law. So I took the easy way out -> Engineering!

In engineering as well, I dint seem to have an inclination towards any subject in particular. So I took Mechanical only because the seat was free and I wasnt really enthu about anything anyway. Plus I was exceptional when it came to sketching (again, Trumpets anyone?) so this seemed to compliment my choice

Then I graduated. Dint have a clue as to what I wanted to do. However, I did know that Mechanical Engineering companies were not my cup of tea. And since Mechanical Engineering is an ever green subject, I took up the offer Infy gave me.
This is when everything in my life started going down hill!
3 years of misery led me to grab the first MBA college that came my way(NMIMS) but on retrospective thinking, I do not regret taking up admission here. Agreed, we are not half as good as the IIMs ... but nothing can be worse than doing a job which you are not good at. The pressure is immense cos you know you will never be able to excel even if you try.
There are somethings some people just cant do. My dad cant draw to save his life. My mom wont be chosen to play any sport even if she is the only person on earth..... Similarly, I cant code.


Wow... from where to where this blog came!....
As of now... I really dunno what I want to do in life. Nothing seems to be good enough for me and I dont seem to be good enough for anything. Mid life crisis has kinda found itself a very strong victim... ME....
Counselling from anyone who cares to read this blog, is welcome!

Mothered......

When it was announced that Mommy would be away for a month, I was aghast. We all loved her and wished that she had the best holiday anyone could ever dream of having..... you know.....The change of guard at Buckingham Palace, Westminster Abbey, The Big Ben, Wimbledon, Lords, Hot crumpets and pots of steaming hot tea, Fish and chips, the Stiff British upper lip what?, Harrods, Etcetera, Etcetra AND the other spanish girls.........................................BUT WHAT THE HELL WERE WE GOING TO DO FOR 29 BLOOMING DAYS IN BENGALURU???????

Our first outing to the kitchen was close to disastrous. In our quest for the perfect Sambar rice, a meal which mummy would snap up in 10 mins, we almost brought the house down. It took us close to an hour and a half of bitter struggling to manage this meal - This AFTER she had left everything ready minus the seasoning(read: tadka) in the deepfreeze. As I wrestled with the microwave oven in an attempt to defrost the sambar, my dad decided to cut us a salad. 25 minutes later I figured it out - The defrost function had been conquered. EEEEHAWWW.... By this time, dad had even finished cutting an onion without the use of a band aid strip... What a man.... Bravo!.. We were on course to having our half-course meal

The next challenge was to make rice. So we put our chef's hats on again and put the water to boil. How much rice could 3 men eat? I reckoned about 4 cups. Dad wasnt very hungry... He being a top executive who has seen the world and me being that first class engineer that I claim to be, together redid the math and came to a mutual consensus that 2 and a half cups would be about enough (note: only later did we find Mom's note that we were to use only HALF A FULL small cup if we were really hungry)... I will leave it the reader's imagination as to what happened when we realised that raw rice absorbs water and expands in the chemical reaction that converts it to cooked rice. We dint cook rice again for a week.

Anyway, when we finally left the kitchen 2 hours later(completely exhausted, back pain, head ache and the rest of the jazz), it was closer to tea than lunch. Never the less, we were ravenous. The kitchen looked like two 1500 pound polar bears had just finished fighting for a mate as fur (read: bits of raw and cooked rice) and Sambar pools were all over the place.

It tasted good.......................................... ( Im sure...... to somalian refugees who hadnt eaten in around 47 and a half days......)................. Ahem.... No really.

We were too tired to turn on the washing machine so we retired for the day. It is then when it struck me that MOM IS SUPERWOMAN. She could make that Sambar Rice with a coupla side dishes, finish putting the clothes out to dry, watch her favorite soap opera, exchange juicy gossip with the neighbour, supervise the maid's efforts to clean the house, set the table for lunch, learn her musical instrument(the piano) AND look after us all in that time that we dedicated whole heartedly to come up with the "spread"(in the process seeing to it that the kitchen needed new interior decorating)

Mommy came back last night much to our relief. She made us a simple meal of Rice, Rasam and a side dish(20 mins mind you).... How we lapped it up!

Mumbai.... The Maximum City.

I'm sure that there will be many people after my blood once they finish reading this but I'll take a risk anyway! And for all those people who are used to reading my blogs, this is different in that I'm in a seriously shitty mood.

I came to Bombay, the city of dreams, some 6 months ago. I came here with the impression that I was going to live in one of the most prosperous cities in the world...the Financial hub of the nation... the City that never slept... The Maximum City.... Gosh...the names and captions were endless really....

BOY WAS I IN FOR A SURPRISE.

I landed at the SantaCruz Airport in Bombay and started disliking the place as soon as the auto got out of the Airport premises. IT WAS(IS) A FILTHY CITY. I am told that I traveled through some of the posher suburbs that day, to get to my destination (Andheri) . I can only imagine as to how clean the "not so posh" suburbs will be. Here are some of the things which changed the image that I had in mind and changed them rather violently.

Garbage Bins… A myth

Here, I don’t claim that Bangalore(the city where I grew up) is the cleanest city in the world. There are certain areas in Bangalore where even pigs would think twice before setting camp... But Bombay is something else altogether. It is not an uncommon sight to see an overflowing garbage bin here (and when I say over flowing, I mean that the garbage spills out to almost 10 metres away from the bin which is not really serving its purpose). The stench is unbearable and there are flies all over the place. And this even in posh areas, mind you.

Spit!!!

Spitting is the local pastime

The hygiene level of the people of Bombay seems to be primitive as they spit wherever they feel like. I know that I’m being a bit unfair by generalizing here but you will see red paan pools or thick gooey red blobs all over the roads and footpaths here. In fact, in the area where I stay, I get my daily dose of exercise as I hop scotch my way to college, trying all the time to avoid stepping into a fresh mound of spit(yes yes… not shit…spit).

It hurts and angers me to see people who do not respect what they have around them. (Like I said, I was in a shitty mood so bear with this for a while longer as I vent my frustration on whoever cares to read this)

The Local Trains

Here’s another bit that left me disappointed when I saw it for the first time. I have recently returned from Singapore where I stayed for 7 days. I used the Metro rail there, the pride of the city. I, not to feel left out, shot my mouth off claiming that it was nothing in comparison to the Mumbai local trains (I got weird looks that day and I wondered why). When I visited the Vile Parle station for the first time, I was SHOCKED. I was not that appalled by the crowd(or the spit pools and the fact that it smelt like a public latrine…I was used to all that by then). What I was shocked by was the fact that the whole system was very old and outdated. In the sense…the platform was crumbling at the edges, terribly cracked and eroded in places. Hygiene levels had hit all time lows (Even the ticket checkers were spitting at will) and trains were BURSTING at their seams.(Im assuming that trains have seams here)… Five million people a day….thats more than the population of relatively large countries in the world…that’s the number of people who use the Bombay Local trains everyday. Shouldn’t the Government take steps to make the system a better one? Shouldn’t the Government take steps to instill some pride into the people who use it by telling them that what they have is probably one of the best systems in the world? Shouldn’t the government spend a little more on maintaining the system? These were some of the questions that came to mind almost immediately. And after a 30 minute journey where I got storked (a new term that I am introducing here…I was on one leg for 30 minutes ... not very different from the posture of a stork) I came out visibly shaken and terribly disappointed

Uncovered Drains and nalas

Now is where I get slightly emotional. The reason why I have written this epic is because we just lost a classmate to Dengue fever. One would think that Dengue fever is contracted only in god forsaken places in back-of-beyond Africa where the mosquito population outnumbers the human population a 1000 times over. I was shocked to hear that Dengue fever is very rampant in Bombay during the monsoons. When I kept reading (on daily papers) about the mounting cases around the city, it did not do more that just surprise me. But when one of our classmates passed away in a span of 3 days, this was then when it hit me. Drains, the breeding ground of mosquitoes are open and have stagnant dirty water all throughout the year.

I could write a book on why I hate Bombay so much but I think I’ll just put a lid on it for now.

I hope I have not offended anyone too badly!