“I was 14 years old –sweating at the nets and dreaming, like schoolboys do, of playing for my country – when I first saw Steve Waugh. It was the 1987 World Cup in India, which Australia won, and while Steve was in his early twenties he had already caught my eye. This was not merely because of his ability with bat and ball (his slower deliveries bowled with various actions would soon be replicated in nets around India), but also for his grit under pressure. Steve appeared to relish the big occasion, seemed to thrive in such situations, but I had no idea back then that it would be this characteristic that would become his signature or that years later I would be privileged to see it first hand.

Greatness is a label easily bestowed in these ‘exaggerated’ times, but Steve earned such high praise. History will remember him as one of the game’s finest practitioners. He averaged over 50 in Test cricket, the mark of a superb batsman, and played a significant role in two World Cup victories, 12 years apart. As captain, he inherited a gifted Australian team from Mark Taylor and forged it into an even more aggressive and successful side. He was influential beyond his shores, a man looked up to.

Steve was a hard man and respected because he had done it the hard way. Greatness wasn’t handed to him; he pursued it diligently, single-mindedly. Dropped from the team, he worked his way back. The story of his resolute journey, among other things, makes for interesting reading.

With 32 Test centuries, there is no shortage of impressive innings to remember, but the one that stands out for me is the 67 not out in 273 minutes he made against us in a one-off Test in Delhi in 1996. On a turning wicket, alive with uneven bounce, he constructed an innings that was masterful in both its technique and its complete concentration. Watching it from silly point as he fended off gifted spinners like Anil Kumble was an education, a lesson for a youngster like me playing his first season of international cricket.

For me, when Steve batted, a couple of things stood out. There was the infinite care he put into his defense, each ball carefully watched and played as if his life depended on it. The acceleration of his bat was interesting as well, for sometimes you thought he was going to be late for the ball, but then his bat would descend at tremendous speed to meet it. Most of the time we left him alone, not speaking to him on the field, for we knew he fed off any conversation, and enjoyed confrontation and challenge that came with it. Australia was never beaten while he was there at the crease.

Off the field, his manner was introverted, his emotions tightly locked. He appeared to live the cliché of ‘No quarter given and none asked’. But off the field, if you sought him out for a chat, he was never reluctant to share his thoughts.

On Australia’s 1998 tour to India I was keen to pick his brain on batting and cricket in general, and Steve promised to let me do so once the series was over. But Australia lost the series and he was injured and missed the last Test, in Bangalore. I would have understood if he had forgotten about this eager youngster, and I thought it was inappropriate to remind him, but on the third day of the Test, unprompted, he called me and we met for dinner. It was a discussion that would have a lasting influence on me.

His ruthless style, combined with a passion for the game, has won him a staggering, almost unrivalled, following in India. But this is a reverence that does not only stem from cricket but also from generosity of spirit. Steve’s work with the children of Udayan in Calcutta has been widely admired, and he has also sought to discover India, to learn about us and go beyond the tired, stereotypical image of this beautiful country that so many visiting cricketers carry with them.

Steve’s legacy is hard to define, but I will remember him because he gave grit a good name. He proved that it is not only the pretty player who can capture the imagination, but also the tough and determined. Suddenly these qualities became as vital, as spoken about, as silken grace and sublime timing. He was leathery tough, played the game aggressively, and would do whatever it took within the rules to win. He built a team that has achieved legendary status, raised the level of young cricketers who played under him, and also embraced the traditions of the game and highlighted their importance.

I will remember the pain of not beating him in that last Test of his, in Sydney in January 2004, but also recall fondly his final innings in cricket against us, for it was a typical Steve Waugh innings: mind over matter, a man not in form but soldiering on, taking his team to safety. I will remember, too, that when I hit the winning runs in the Test at Adelaide n that same series, Steve found the ball and handed it to me. I have it still and is signed by him.

Steve Waugh is an interesting man who has lived an interesting life; a man of cricket but not just of cricket. For 18 years he has traveled the world, won and lost and learnt and led. He has faced cameras, critics and fast bowlers, and he has brought to it all a commitment to excellence.”

The book is available at flipkart here – Out Of My Comfort Zone

Image Source: Cricinfo

Foreword Source – http://mayesh.wordpress.com/

The point I am trying to drive here is that, “Rank 1″ is just a number. It is an accumulation of the good work done by a team over a period of time and not valid on every single day. To catch hold of Dhoni and say “You are No. 1 in tests, now go beat everyone around the world” is silly. A little chaos, a little uncertainty, a proper challenge, a loss here and there, an underdog victory, isn’t that what a fan wants? I would like to assume that we are fans of the sport first and then a fan of the team/player. Sometimes though, the fan of the team/player in us overpowers the fan of the sport. The 100th 100 of Sachin is a classic example for this. With a test match to win/save on the 5th day and a viral fever pulling him down, there were people on twitter still rooting for the 100th 100.

Rahul Dravid after his century at Lords

There is this concept a friend of mine talks about very often. In a friend group, ideally 3 to 5 people, everyone is equally talented in something or the other and the group can roughly be termed as a league of equals. Let me explain this with an example. Look at Dil Chahta Hai. All the three friends there have some skills and at no point does one feel that any one of the three is a misfit. Extending that theory to sports, there is no best player or best team but a league of brilliant players or teams.There is no best batsman or bowler, but a league of brilliant batsmen and bowlers. It is the healthy competition between these teams/players that brings out the best for the team and excitement for the viewers. How would the World Cup 2011 have been if India did not have to beat Aus, Pak and Sri Lanka but instead Zimbabwe, Holland and Kenya? It would be a bore if India won every match everyday like the brutal Aussies did in 2007. The sport will die, much like that year’s World Cup.

India lost to England in a test match at Lords. My point is, chill maro. Dravid is back in form; Swann doesn’t look as threatening as hyped; Raina, Praveen and Ishant seem to be in the form of their lives; Sachin & Gambhir will be fit by then. And most importantly, India is now the underdog.

To a fan, Federer not winning the Wimbledon is more than all of these. On that day, no other news can be worse than that. The match and how they played are inconsequential. The result hurts and no matter how hard the fan tries to justify to himself that it was a one off game, it is difficult to look forward to the US Open believing that Fedex, its five time champion, is the favorite again.

For someone who has grown up watching an agile Swiss tennis player make mockery of huffing and puffing man beasts, make us smile and wonder with his effortless and graceful shots and finally fall on the center court of the ground, a record 16 times and scream in joy, it is difficult to watch him lose. Especially, if it is not the finals.

Federer

మతమేల గతమేల మనసున్న వాడు,
హితమేదొ తెలియాలి మనిషైన వాడు,
నీ దేశమే పూవనం. పూవై వికశించనీ జీవితం.

కన్నీట కడగాలి కులమన్న పాపం,
మత రక్త సింధూరం కడగాలి అరుణం,
గాయాల నీ తల్లికీ, కన్నా!! జో లాలి పాడాలిరా!!

సరిహద్దులే దాటు ఆ గాలిలా, ప్రవహించనీ ప్రేమనే హాయిగా,
నదులన్ని కలిసేటి కడలింటిలో, తారల్లు విరిసేటి ఆ నింగిలో,
కలలోకి జారేను ఈ రాత్రులే, వెలిగించె నవ్యోదయం. ( మతమేల గతమేల )

తల ఎత్తి నిలవాలి నీ దెశమూ! ఇల మీదనే స్వర్గమై!!
భయమన్నదే లేని భవితవ్యమూ!! సాధించరా సంభ్రమై!!
ఒక మాట ఒక బాట ఒక ప్రాణమై!! సాగాలిరా ఏకమై!!!

We rarely see a college student based love-story, like Kuch Kuch Hota Hai, thanks to Dil Chahta Hai which started the trend that a story involving folks who work makes more sense. Cinema is truly an reflection of our times. I am not talking about the outrageous southie movies, and Salman Khan movies too, which involve one guy bashing up a hundred goons but the ones like Wake Up Sid and Bommarillu. These did not really have a lot of content and story, like Pyaasa or Don, but the way they presented the protagonists, their confusions and habits, are something at least people from my generation can relate to.

We see more movies these days with the absence of typical love triangles, factionism, fights and stupid dances. Movies today have real-life scenarios like mis-understandings, failures with absence of out-of-the-world coincidences. It is refreshing because any movie which surprises it’s audience, in a pleasant way of course, is what we all want. Don’t we like it when we subconsciously guess the story and it turns out to be something else? Usual Suspects?

Another important improvement has been in screenplay development. We see voice-overs being used in a good way and one of the best examples is Being Cyrus. If you haven’t seen it, give it watch and also listen to it carefully. Even Last Lear had very good voice over effects. We also have non-linear screenplays, the ones flipping back and forth, the ones in which the audience is assumed to understand how the story is going without being told too much, like Johnny Gaddar.

Last and probably most important is the increase in the number of women behind the camera and this brings me to Ala Modaliandi. At the intermission of the film, my friend casually mentioned, don’t movies with women directors have more mature stories? This movie had many ups and a few downs but on the whole was a thoroughly enjoyable experience. The humor was witty and the characters had more off-beat jobs, like reality TV directors, veterinarians, social activists amongst others.

Another movie in the same style is Dhobi Ghat, which was relaxedly paced as if the director was in no hurry to tell the story, sub plots into which she did not dwell too much and the best of all, usage of songs only as a background music.  A trend which Rang De Basanti had set, where the song is either a part of the story or is just something in the background. I would love to see more of that, where I cannot fast forward the songs and not miss anything, irrespective of the nature of the songs. Telugu films of the 60s used songs as the only mode of expressing romance. There rarely were any dialogs/proposals etc as  a part of the dialogs and this made the songs more meaningful and also more enjoyable.

So, I believe that the day is not far when we can stop bothering about the star cast and look at the makers of the film to decide whether to watch it or skip it. And one of these days, we might also not have any hype around a movie and have to see its cast on every reality show a week before its release. Hopefully.

P.S. By no means am I criticizing the movies of the old, but am appreciating the improvement in the quality of Indian cinema. Also, technical details like cinematography and art direction are not relevant in this discussion since they would not make a difference in the quality of cinema.

Image Courtesy: Random “Watch Movies Online” sites, found via google, which promote piracy and do not deserve to be linked.

The primary reason why I found “English, August” original and refreshing is because of the absence of any sort of romance. There is lust that Agastya has, for several women in fact, but the absence of  melodramatic love keeps the book natural and believable. The bluntness is impossible to be disliked “About sixty-five per cent of the population of the block of Jompanna–a block is roughly one-sixth or one-seventh of a district–is illiterate. But one doesn’t need to be brainy or literate to watch a blue film on video.” Add to it, the subtle way in which Upamanyu Chatterjee projects the fascination of most urban Indians to ape their western counterparts, giving themselves nicknames like August and Mandy, is awesome.

Chatterjee expresses Agastya’s confusion with honesty, in an as a matter of fact way, with the tone never even remotely offensive, as if it is a natural thing to feel confused and shallow and allows one to relate to August. “There wasn’t a single thought in his head about which he didn’t feel confused.”

Lack of self-importance and indecisiveness towards one’s career, an extremely common syndrome in young Indians, the latter more significantly, makes this a true Indian story and a must read for everyone. In a land where son of a doctor is a doctor, son of a lawyer is a lawyer, this son of a bureaucrat showcases the frustration at having chosen a career which doesn’t appeal to him in a genuine way but chosen only because it is an easy way out. Witty and cynical English,August, written over 23 years ago, with all its cultural references of that age intact, appealed to me and I guess will appeal to any Indian brought up in a city.

To sum up the book, I will quote what I found the most impressive revelation:

Image Courtesy: Wikipedia Article on English August

Bangalore! Railway Station

Old Madras Road, Bangalore

A simple 3 photo post of the three places I visited in Bangalore sometime back.

After a few pleasantries and micro introductions here and there, in which I had claimed I am a software engineer, my neighbor, Bhavesh, started telling me why they were teasing their friend. These gentlemen, still in their olive green uniforms, were going home after 8 months. After their earlier posting in Rajasthan, they had to come directly to Secunderabad, thereby missing a break to go home. I was tempted to ask about the working conditions of Army Jawans in Rajasthan but decided not to, since that might spoil the cheerful mood of the group. So instead I jumped directly to the topic of Mr. Arpit Shah.

While everyone was going home for a holiday, Mr. Arpit here was going home to pick a bride, preferably his neighbor’s 18 year old daughter which he had confided to me later. The very next day after finalizing the girl, he will get engaged to her and marry her and then come back to Secunderabad. The time duration he has for this whole sequence was 6 days since it takes him 3 days to travel to his home town and three days to come back and he has a leave of only 12 days. I felt slightly embarrassed when Bhavesh said all of this with no hint of a complaint in his tone. I have attended weddings where the wedding itself lasted a minimum of 4-5 days, leave alone the engagement and holidays before and after the event.

For my question on why Arpit was being teased since getting married is a fairly common practice around the world, he replied that Arpit was the first amongst the group to get married and had very eagerly responded to the marriage proposal too. The rest either did not get any such offers or declined whatever came their way. I went up to Arpit’s seat to congratulate him and to also ask him his opinion on the whole ongoing scene and how he felt about it. He removed the big suitcase on the seat and offered me place to sit on the seat and started off.

“Bhai. Bore Lagta hain hume akele akele. Hindi Picture akele dekne mein kya matlab hain. Hume toh sirf kisika saath chahiye tha. Timepass ho jaayega. Isiliye, humne maa se kehdiya ki hume manzoor hain. Bas itnisi hi baat hai. Yeh Rajesh aur Bhavesh humesha aisi hi hai. Koi kaam nahi hai in dono ko”

At that moment, I could not help but smile at his honesty. Later, he asked me about my job and corporate life. I gave some politically correct answers, till he asked me something to which I had no answer, “Toh phir, yeh IT waalon ko intha paisa kyun dethe hain?” For all that I could remember, everyone always cribbed about their pay in every IT Company.

My stop had come and I had to get down. After wishing him and the rest of the group, I went smiling away into oblivion. It felt good to be in the company of men who had no idea of how great a job they were doing. Thank You Gentlemen.

P.S. Character names have been changed for the sake of national security. Otherwise, it is a true story which happened over an year ago.

Image Courtesy – The Hindu

Pairon ke bediyan khwabon ko baandhe nahi re, kabhi nahi re
The chains tied to one’s feet can never stop you from dreaming, never ever
Mitti ki parton ko nanhe se ankur bhi cheerein, dheere dheere
The small saplings also make pathways into the earth, slowly slowly

Iraade hare hare, jinke seeno mein ghar kare
Those, whose hearts have budding intents
Woh dil ki sune kare na darre, na darre
They listen to their hearts, never fearing.

Subah ki kirno ko rokein jo salaakhein hai kahan
Where are those bars that can stop morning rays (there are none)
Jo khayalon pe pehre daale woh aankhein hai kahan
Where are such eyes that to guard thoughts
Par khulne ki deri hai parinde ud ke chhoo lenge
It’s only until they open their wings, birds will touch the sky
Aasman aasman aasman
The sky, the sky
Aazaadiyan, aazaadiyan
Freedom,  freedom

Maange na kabhi, mile mile mile
Are never won by asking for them.
Aazaadiyan, aazaadiyan
Freedom, freedom

Jo chheenein wahi, jee le jee le jee le
Those who snatch (their freedom), live

Subah ki kirno ko rokein jo salaakhein hai kahan
Jo khayalon pe pehre daale woh aankhein hai kahan
Par khulne ki deri hai parinde udh ke chhoo lenge
Aasman aasman aasman

Kahani khatam hai ya shuruwaat hone ke hai (hone ke hai)
Is it the end of the story or a new beginning
Subha nayi hai yeh ya phir raat hone ko hai (hone ke hai)
Is it a new morning or night about to fall

Kahani khatam hai ya shuruwaat hone ke hai (hone ke hai)
Subha nayi hai yeh ya phir raat hone ko hai (hone ke hai)

Aane wala waqt dega panahein
Will time that comes gives us space to enjoy
Ya phir se milenge do raahe
Or shall we be getting dilemmas (tensions, troubles)
Khabar kya, kya pataa
Who knows….

Hey Dude! Whats Up?

and even before you think of what to reply, he’s gone. Wait, did you have a reply to it in the first place? And even if you did, did you want to tell it to him? Well I, as always rushing to the rescue of the regular Joe, decided to dig deeper and add clarity to this ambiguous phrase. (Can’t call it a question right?)

An extremely annoying question that has (unfortunately) replaced “Hello” or “Hi” as the most popular form of casual greeting. For full effect, best delivered while walking past someone at about 90 m.p.h. so the person you’re talking to has no time to respond, and in a tone that suggests you really don’t give a shit about “what’s up” with them.

So, that is that.

Cheers!

Definition Courtesy Urban Dictionary

Image Courtesy Desktop Nexus