Raj Stone-mighty.

Of all the many ridiculous things that we in this country do, this one thing called dagadphek, pretty much tops it all. It somehow is not a national phenomenon, but just one that is peculiar to my region. And very strongly so. It has a sort of festive fervor. Often people complain about it, having been at the receiving end of the thing, but on having a bird's eye view of the proceedings, that is, remaining conveniently isolated from it all, i found the activity almost delightfully energetic,complete with an electric atmosphere and a passion with which marathi people only WORKED, the biharis would not avail any opportunities here, let alone steal the marathi peoples'. But that is another thing. Let us not go there. I mean, wishful thinking would include it as an occupation, an educational specialisation or heck, even an Olympic sport. But ah.. to the plight of the ordinary marathi senaman, that is not gonna happen.

The basic idea of dagadphek involves throwing stones at pretty much everyone and everything and thus causing a major ruckus in the area. It is quite unstructured and requires the least amount of planning. I mean if you need to make a plan for throwing random stones at random things in a random geographical location, I think you're hitting a new low here. It is supposed to e a form of protest. I'm not quite sure whether Gandhiji, our premier protestor, would approve, but in the the words of a major protagonist of it, existing systemists are worse than your average Brit Guv. And so they throw stones. At cars, buildings and other fixed assets. What still remains unclear is where they get all the stones from. I guess we miss all the little details while engrossed in the thick of the "real action".


But as random as this activity is, the point that people are trying to drive home is remarkably simple. "We Are Not Happy". It is vaguely the same reason why a baby cries. It's nappy is wet. So is the senamens'. Another striking similarity is how both their respective nappies get wet merely at the drop of a hat. Where was I? Ah yes.. Methodology. The deviously simple idea here is to throw stones at everyone and thing that doesn't belong to the party kith and kin. If you've seen movies that deal with civil wars in African Nations, you'll be reminded of something similar. Stupid, uneducated, young, destructive and gun happy men trying to control things by creating panic. Only difference is that, guns not being freely available in our country, we are left with very Neanderthal artillery. Stones.

So this ferocious pelting is carried on by the 'sena' that seems to consist primarily of thugs, goons and immature dolts trying to make the worst of a bad situation. Sometimes, when the thing gets out of hand, or the stones get exhausted, the more innovative sort start setting the shattered remains of the fixed assets on fire. Source of this fire is, yet again, anonymous. Perhaps it is the fire in their hearts. But inflamed with rage, the anti-social congregation set buses, cars, shops and at times, people on fire. This burning of property, arson is the word i believe, is more of a pan-India phenomenon and has quite a success record. I suppose that the deathtoll being considerably higher, attention to the wet nappy is easily got.

Sounds like a well-rounded, sound system doesn't it? Well believe it or not, there IS a snag! Let us take this Bihari vs Sena example forward.

Now the Senamen spanked the uscrupulous biharis' butts and sent them back. Funnily, instead of venting the anger on the marathi manoos who led to his desecration, the biharis ran home and killed and caused a general nuisance to their own publics. The marathi protagonist gets the slammer. Not to be outdone in the above stupidity of killing own people, the marathi manoos stoned HIS people mercilessly. The rebel protagonist gets out. Bihari flame is fanned again. They burn the first bus, train and pedestrian into their cities. But the message is the same from both parties. Just like the baby. If I'm not happy, the first person I'll trouble to death will be from my OWN FAMILY. And this perfectly wraps up the comparison

Our premier protestor was right. An eye for an eye does make the world blind. Especially when you're poking your own eyes..

(I have refrained from mentioning just WHICH sena is causing the ruckus. As of today, who is the primary, proactive torch bearer of the marathi flag is still in debate).

What I've felt.. What I've known..

Well, before i start, let me get one thing very clear. Everything said and done, Metallica has been, is and will be my favourite-est band ever. Whatever varying phases i pass through, of metal and pop, of anger and solitude, of joy and sorrow, Metallica have been and always will be there. Its one of those things that just stick for the rest of your life. Its a band that has changed my outlook towards music & widened my musical horizons and understanding, I'll always find myself listening to Wherever I May Roam while travelling, Master Of Puppets just before an exam, Nothing Else Matters when I'm feeling in love and The Unforgiven and Enter Sandman at absolutely any time of the day. James, Kirk, Lars and even Cliff and Jason. Some of the most amazing people on earth( and one in heaven, RIP)..

And in the midst of all this comes the new album, Death Magnetic.

I still haven't come to terms with the fact that Jason Newsted is well and truly out of the band and is now replaced by this Robert Trujjilo. So while I think that Death Magnetic is clearly the best album since Reload and better that Load before that, I still don't find the bass mechanics of Robert oh-sp appealing. I liked the feeling that Jason gave and which I thought held the "Metallica sound" together. Trujillo's bass still sounds like a bit of a racket.


Lars has done way better than the ridiculous snare-banging he did for St. Anger. He's put in some delightful rolls all through the album that reminds me of those good times of the late 80s where he for the first time, gave up speed drumming in favor of some drumming artistry. Although, he has retained that damned snare he used in St. Anger that echoes quite noisily.

The guitar sound has thankfully mellowed down. It seems that they finally, after 28 years, decided to give up the really heavy distortion and with it the need to palm-mute. The sound has become a lot more grunge, quite a bit like Ozzy's guitar sound. It is good to listen to Kirk's solos again(Kirk took a break in St. Anger X( ) especially the wahs in Unforgiven 3.

But the man who took the cake for me(as he often does) was James. The man i thought was dead and buried after St. Anger has resurrected himself and how! He too has mellowed down, but the force of his voice remains as strong and compellingly passionate as ever.

Death Magnetic, for me, is an absolute hit. Metallica are BACK!

The Beijing Olympics '08, more than anything else, was a gross show of power. China Power. They showed the world that today they are, in and out of the sporting arena, one of the fastest, highest and strongest countries in the world. The artistic Bird's Nest stadium, the 100 medals(out of which 50 odd were gold, more than ANY other country) which were sandwiched between enchanting opening and closing ceremonies, the fireworks and the crowds all truly symbolised that China has arrived. The Dragon is wide awake and is staking its claim on the power it lost some 500 years ago. As any Liverpool fan would know that one phrase almost too well. China are "back on their f*ckin perch".

They're right there. On Cloud 8. One away from the sacrosanct, proverbial 9th. A bludgeoning, power economy and strong trade relations, a fallout of the fact that the world wants to trade with China, backed by unbeatable armed forces, and more than anything else, the patriotism and zeal of every China-man(:p) on the street and his passion and desire to put China on the 9th, ahead of the US and Europe. It all seems so perfect!


But China also stands to exemplify what a bitch internal strife can be. Ironic isn't it? In a time when every country in the world is lapping up at China's feet to have a chance of getting a slice of their pie, a faction of the homegrowns, namak khae hue's rebels against the home country?


Well I'm sure Tenzing and the Tibetans have their issues. If they say that I, living in my plush home far far away, from the misery that he and his people face every single day, haven't a bean of what his people go through, he'd probably be right. But what is more alarming about these damned rebel, separatist movements is the effect it is having in my country. I'm not one about to discount the Tibetans' troubles, but I have a good reason to believe that the current "Kashmir Liberation" nonsense derives direct inspiration from the aforementioned movement.

I think this entire Kashmir story is ridiculous from the word go. The Kashmiris never wanted to be Indian. Given their way, they'd rather be on their own. If given a choice between India and Pakistan, they were gonna choose Pakistan. But they were most certainly not gonna pick India. Yet we went there, and tried to convince that stupid irresponsible king to surrender to us or face Pakistan on his own. His people have always wanted Pakistan. But we forced them. We forced them to be a part of our country. And we tried atoning for it. We treated them with respect. We gave them protection. We fought their wars. We pumped our resources into them so that one day they would be satisfied and proudly proclaim that they are happy to be a part of India. Alas! The Beatles warned us in the 60's. "Money can't buy me love". How true! We tried bribing them. We tried cosseting to them in order to win their love. We told them how horrible Pakistan-occupied-Kashmir is and how they are much better off here. And we failed. Money couldn't buy us love. They always wanted Independence. Or in worst case scenario, Pakistan.

Frankly, I think we should give up Kashmir. As it is, it is a dead investment. The Government has pumped the hard-earned money of the average Indian into Kashmir and our defence expenditure in trying to protect Kashmir is phenomenal. Money has been lost, time has been lost but more importantly men have been lost. Killed, by Chinese, Pakistanis and so many other blood-hungry terrorists of whatever nationality. Indians from every nook and corner of the country have laid down their f*cking lives in order to protect that protesting Kashmiri's family for 61 years. And when we accidentally caught one of these rebel defaulters? We treated them with respect worthy of a king. You know what they do to rebels in China? I think China are fully aware of their population crisis and any scum not adding to their GDP is probably just stamped out like a bug. And I'm sure Pakistan too have a similarly convenient technique to get rid of traitors. All this for what? Why did we steal the bread out of an average Indian's mouth? Why did we forego expenditure we should have incurred on parts and people of the country who stick their chests out when the Anthem is played? The Kashmiris' stand remains unchanged. It was what it was 61 years ago. So if they don't give two f*cks about what India has done for them, let them have their tiny ass country where they can do whatever shit India apparently "doesn't allow" them to. If they don't care, why should we? Let them go i say. Let them build their industries. Let them find out what running a government means. Let them find out what "defense expenditure" means. Let them fight their wars. Let their men die. Let them take big loans from the IMF, World Bank and others and have their butts nailed to the wall when they don't pay up. It's been 61 years and India still hasn't been able to pay up. I wonder how long Kashmiris would take. In fact, I don't think all this will even happen. I think Pakistan and China will attack Kashmir within 2 days and then lets see if they have the balls to go against what these countries decide for them. China will probably treat them like dirt off their shoes. I say if they don't care what India are doing for them, they should get this spanking from the rest of the world so that they know how it really hurts.

KJo immortal!

I was watching Kabhi Khushi Kabhi Ghum the other day. Maybe for the 13th time. I dunno why, but i totally love that film! I mean everytime, every single time that K3G comes on TV, only one thought comes to my mind. Watch it!

Well, i couldn't care less about what Ram Gopal Verma thinks about Karan Johar's films. I still believe that KJo's are much easier on the brain. I've heard that RGV too can make people cry, but out of sheer trauma and frustration of having spent precious money, in these inflation-ridden times, on a sub-standard, pathetic remake of a classic in a depressing bottle green background. A sweetly dressed Kareena Kapoor with a super large ego(which I enjoy, for that matter, on any girl) is much nicer on the eye than whatever tramp that RGV procures that goes around banging every second guy on the road. Even if he is 3 times her age. That is just sick!

Maybe another day, I'll take out the time to put into harsher words what i feel about RGV's ridiculous and overwhelmingly degrading renditions of Sholay and the like, but this post is solely dedicated to K3G. :)

I mean, I'm sure of you are one of those wannabe, self-proclaimed "film-critics", who've grown up on a heady and steady diet of "sensible movies", that deal with more "serious issues" unlike the "frivolous ones", about "running behind a girl, around a tree", that bollywood churns out too regularly, you probably hated it. On the flipside, if you're the typical urban Indian, you probably cried your eyes out and screamed the worst abuses in your dictionary when that "fathead" Amitabh B. slapped the "gorgeous" better known Roshan. Well, I belong to neither extreme end, but if I were to pick one, it'd probably be the latter and say, without a fear of contradiction, that yes, I LOVED K3G.

Either KJo is a ridiculous little mumma's boy with distinguished contacts or an outrageous marketing genius. Such a movie could have worked only in India. And if it worked outside, it would with the Indian diaspora. Because if you happen to look at it objectively, what do you really have? Son1 marries wrong girl. Hothead dad kicks him out. Son1 moves to London and rebuilds life. Son2 goes and brings Son1 back. Mother cry, father cry and happy family reconciliation. All this interspersed with a few laughs and a lot(and i mean a LOT) of crying. The tagline goes, "it's all about loving your parents". It's not even relevant to the story! Just because it has parents and children, joy and sorrow, bichchadna and waapas-aana,doesn't necessarily teach you to love your parents.

But it clicks. People loved it. I, for one, will certainly watch it the 14th time. 8 years later, when a TV channel decides to broadcast it, the response is only slightly diminished. The sponsors come running and it gets primetime. People, 8 years later, "hawwww" at all the right places, cry at the right places, laugh and sing at the right places. Forget the fact that having seen the movies before, you know what's coming next. The movie is predictable from the word go. I know SRK's every dialog and the intensity of Jaya Bacchan's every sniff. And yet i love the film and will watch it the 14th time. Why?

Because advertently or inadvertently, it was and continues to be one of the biggest marketing rackets India has seen. The cliched story apart, more important are the other things KJo brings to the table. Everyone will agree to the fact that he brought the best, most iconic, fit-the-bill actors and actresses of their respective generations forward for each role. Hard to imagine a better couple than the Bacchans to act the amazing, successful couple. Forget acting, they already are an amazing and succesful enough couple! Strike one. The ideal, lovable protagonist HAD to(amd let me stress on the compulsiveness of this situation here) HAD to be SRK. And who better than Kajol to club him with? A couple that has single-handedly clicked and made films click? Strike two. And of course, the nice looking, trendy-and-modern and fresh faces to play the respective siblings to the protagonists. Hrithik Roshan and Kareena Kapoor. I guess that after Jodha Akbar and Jab We Met, we certainly cannot have that couple doing a similar role, but the time then was perfect. Just perfect. Strike three.

I guess the most distinctive part-of-body of the Indian human species(even the male) is the heart. We aren't too much about the brain, or the logic. In times of cognitive dissonance, we usually listen to the dil ki baat, however unreasonable, illogical and unfeasible. And for some reason, we like to see it on screen. We really couldn't care less for the minor technical details, but we do know when and where to start crying our eyes out. And after i saw it 13 times and critically analysed it, i found that we really dunno what business the Raichands, who are rolling in cash, in an overlarge mansion(supposedly in India) with merely 2 people living in it for most of the time, with the best of cars, helicopters and private jets, are into! How can Jaya Bacchan, armed with jewellery, sit on that mansion(supposedly in India) alone without a watchman? How can she clean that damned house with just one housemaid? In our relatively modest flat, we have 4 maids with different job descriptions. The London's MBA school where Hrithik is supposed to be studying looks more like a design school! But you know, and I know and KJo knows that no one really cares for all this rubbish once SRK starts crying. SRK's tears prevail over these little details novice directors fuss about. So quite correctly, KJo brings a good deal of varied emotions to the table.

We Indians also dream. A LOT. The poor dream of being rich. The Mittal in Kensington dreams of being richer. "183 room house? baah.. i want 209 rooms. maybe one for each day of the year. Oh and my 3 kids will want it that way too. Little Chintoo is quite fussy about it. So lets make it.. uhh.. 365 X 4 rooms". And the movie paints a dream, a vivid picture of having all the luxuries of the world on your doormat. "My son in London misses me? Well then I just hop onto my private jet and go meet him!". A palatial mansion(supposedly in India). A helicopter to go to work. Even the exiled son has a chic bungalow in London. The cute girl acts hard-to-get. The hot guy gives her competition.But after a good amount of throwing "attitude" at each other, they fall in love. They HAVE to. Father-son fight, but a happy ending nevertheless. They're all happy. All rich. All happily living in their mansion(supposedly in India). Its perfect. And I'd want to see it a 14th time as well.

Yes. KJo has segmented, targeted and positioned. And he's kicked ass.

And RGV? What about you son? :-P

Parliament Starts with a "K" :D

Frankly, I'm not a man with a keen eye on politics. The way i see it(just as the average Indian sees it), our Parliament is the second largest congregation of ugly criminals in India(Second only to "Jails":P) It further does not help that the Indian Political Structure(as they told me in 8th/9th grade) is one of the most complicated the world has seen. Full to the brim with equally complicated politicians. But when a major party of a ruling coalition withdraws support & threats of an imminent fall of the government arise, even the most flaccid and pedestrian political viewers have got to stand up and take notice!

What a dramatic couple of weeks it has been! The Parliament, I realised, is the very reason why men do not watch K-serials. Not only is the drama real and totally intense, not only are the bitching and stabs-in-the-back more grave, but the outcome of the above forces may well alter your plans and schemes for another 5 years! Watch one, just one session of the Parliament and you'll realise how pathetic and ridiculous K-serial drama really is!

So putting it in my typical carefree and insouciant way, all this political brouhaha seems to revolve around a Nuclear-Deal being proposed by the USA. Details, I do not know, but it seems that they'll give us a fair amount of sanctions for nuclear testing and use. And apparently, its been coming for a while now. It was initiated by the BJP some 5 years ago , when they were in power. But unfortunately, they fell from power and the Congress emerged victorious with a great deal of help from the Communist brigades. Commies are secular, so they don't side with "religious-fanatic-scum" like BJP and other Saffrons. Anyway, the Congress found a golden opportunity to complete this "historic" deal and bark about it for years later. And they had 5 years to. It had to happen.

Don Vito Corleone once told his son, Sonny, "Sonny, you never go against the family. Never let an outsider know about a rift in the family". Obviously the Lefties were too high-handed to accept the Don's immortal words. They put the dirty laundry in the UPA family up for all to see. It was a deal they COULD refuse. They did not want it, for anything that comes from America is cursed, vile and spam potent enough to destroy the world. While they claimed that they deal makes no sense to the poor Indian and the benefits would not trickle down as easily as Chidambaram thought, political viewers more adept than myself commented that this hullabaloo would not happen had the deal come from China.


So after playing hide-and-seek with the Politburo for around 3 years(!), PM Manmohan Singh and the Congress puffed their chests out and said they wanted the deal. Commies said, "touch the deal and we withdraw support". A comment that Congress knew had deflated their recently puffed chests.

But last month, the "Man" in Mohan finally got up and said, "support or no support, I'm taking the deal". Indeed it was a deal he couldn't refuse. India is reeling under an energy crisis which is hindering industrial productivity, which is India's Core Competence on the global stage. More energy, like Alessandra Ambrosio, was something to be grabbed with both hands. He took the deal.

It was a move that would shock even the nonagenarian leftist. The Karats, Bardhans, Basus and other babu-moshais agreed to disagree. The Capitalism-blinded Congress had to be taught a lesson. The Red Army marched and punched their Iron Fists in the Congress' guts and yodelled, "Commies not dead!". And it was "Curtains" for the coalition. The Reds chose the Saffrons instead.

The Congress didn't want no elections given the "economic slowdown" and the "high uncontrolled rates of inflation" that the BJP is rebukingly pointing out every 3 days. They ran helter and skelter, hither and tither, from pillar to post, from a jailed MP to the undertrial one. Unlike what Einstein said," whoever could be counted, counted!". Which is where i feel the Congress lost the credibility it had managed to raise with loan-waivers, n-deals and what not. In the recent Parliament session, false accusations, lies and currency notes came thick and fast. So fast that our poor aging Speaker could no longer follow what was going on. It was like me at a thriller movie. But it kinda proved what a bitch democracy can be at times. Do one good deed and 5 bad ones to atone for it.

K serials? This is the REAL set! The REAL drama!

Can't say?

If you subscribe to any English(i'm not too aware what system the regional-language-ones follow) newspaper, on perhaps the front page, you will come across a poll question and what the respondents of the previous day's poll had to say. And the system is simple enough. Close-ended questions. No scope for any prolixity. "Yes" or "No". What piques me is the "cant' say" part.

Now frankly that "Can't say" really baffles me. I mean since it is a voluntary involvement for the people who respond to the poll. Its not compulsory to register your views. Imagine, during elections, you walk into the booth, see the names and parties of the candidates and you say,"well I'm not so sure". "Can't say". Its not as though you go to their site, check the poll page to see what question they're asking and then get trapped. "Answer bitches, or you're stuck here forever". No, its really much simpler and much more within the humanitarian rights. See the question, you agree or disagree with the point of view they present, and leave. Why should people feel the need to stay on the page, ponder long and hard upon the question, scratch their brains, and then come to the inscrutable position where they haven't a honest opinion and since they are trapped on the page until they can provide an honest opinion, what will come to the poor damsels' rescue? The "can't say" option. Do you really think that such a dire situation is possible?


The problem is, to around 3-10% respondents actually DO get stuck at this unfortunate juncture. Only the trap isn't technological. Its purely psychological. Let me explain.


You'll see it in most Indians. Most commonly in women. Indians, as a community, can't help but put their two cents in every time. We have this compulsive need to keep giving people advice, because we know that what will say will only alter their lives, and for the better. "listen to me baby..", "I know.. I'll tell you..", "Take my advice...". We have to. We just have to. And this is where the "can't say" option comes to our rescue. We have to say SOMETHING! But we don't agree, nor do we disagree! Heck! We don't even know what the hell the question means! But we gotta say something! How can the world go without knowing what we think about this question? How will the world come to realise that not only are we ignoramus nuts, but we also need to display this ignorance unabashedly?

"Can't Say"

Mr. Conscience, Mrs. Guilt

Of all the characteristics i embody, one of the most unfortunate one would be my love to see other people happy. (I see the hug-man, the Hitch.. Aaah, if only I too could do something to make this world a better place to live!) The other one would be the vicious circle of conscience and guilt I get caught up in almost too often. And growing up in the cultured climes of my conservative household, the conscience-guilt circle is nearly inevitable. Too often, i feel surrounded by a bevy of self-absorbed and thoughtless jerks. Furthermore, they are unwanted. It is almost like my compulsive, joy-infusing subconscious calls out to the worst of this specimen & pleads them to come and defile my life with their damned presence while i ardously work towards making them happy.

Look around you, they are all there. Neighbours, old friends, relatives. All of them land, when you are(or lets say ESPECIALLY when you are) on velvet, on your front porch, with rigorous frowns on their faces and appeal to your subconscious to get them off. And Indian as i am, i exclaim "Atithi Devo Bhava" and allow them to infest my life. Ever felt this way? No? Well you're goddamn lucky then

But if you have fallen prey to the above evil trick of the tribe the next feeling is furthermore commonplace. The conscience-guilt phase. Let me explain.

So the Fuglies infest our life. Their very presence is traumatising. The mere sight of these tribals gives you fits. You wanna throw cats at them. They ramble on about the nonsense of their lives which is about as repetitive and moronic as Kyunki Saas Bhi Kabhi Bahu Thii..They pick at your brain incessantly. What's worse? They don't even care! Every inch, every fibre on your body wants them to shut up. If only they could read your mind, the words "fuckoff" and Get Lost" are engraved in your mind, Font 72 Bold, Italic, Underlined. The abuse is on the tip of your tongue. But does it come out? Nope. It is help on by a frayed but resolute rope by a SOB called Conscience. "You'll repent" he says. You try telling him that Repentance would be a brighter day. But Conscience merely smiles and your resolve breaks down. In case you break free of him, he sends his slightly more inexorable and retributive crony. Guilt. And she will haunt you till the day you die. She will make mountains from molehills of your sins even on your deathbed. She'll show you hell even before you go there. "And go there you shall son!" she reminds.

And so you write songs, poems, blogs:).. Abuse them, but anon. Try dispelling them from your life. they will never leave. They're like the stains on your favourite shirt. In one of my Jeeves-Woosters, i read Jeeves telling Wooster, "You can dispel nature with a pitchfork, but she will always return". I guess the same can be said about each and everyone of the parties present. Guilt, Conscience and those dastardly pinpricks. Eddie Vedder sang, "Try to forget this.. Try to erase this..". You can't.

Ever got caught is this? No? Well you're goddamn lucky then! :-S

the mechanics of.. ..

It starts in your stomach. Slowly, pleasurably kicks you. Teasingly, indulgently. Then it spreads, like wildfire. It clenches around your stomach and moves into your chest, shoulders, arms, hands, legs and finally reaches up to your head. And once it does, it is no longer under your control, for now it has taken control of YOU. It now owns you. It dictates your every action. Or rather, it drives you toward inaction. Its the worst possible feeling a man can feel. Worse than Communism. Worse than absolute despotic monarchy. For your body is in your hands, but you cannot use it. Your senses are yours, but you cannot use them. Its a cadaverous vice-grip upon your throat, choking you. An iron curtain, that blinds you. A cyclone that clouds your every other sensation. Every other emotion. For now you see only what it wants you to see, feel only what it wants you to feel. And it is itself. Its Fear.

Dil-HAAAARA re..

Dihaara Fernando is a superlative fool. Mother Nature's biggest blunder since Djimi Traore(ex-liverpool, and thank goodness its "ex" now). The Queen's language is found wanting when one seeks to describe the idiocy this man embodies. I mean, he's an INTERNATIONAL level player, for crying out loud! Eleven months in a year, he shares the dressing room with players the like of Sanath Jayasuriya and Muthaiah Muralitharan and the last one with Shaun Pollock and Sachin Tendulkar. Mag haa asaa bawlat kasa?

The word "resentment", i think, puts things nicely into perspective. As a fellow who is born in Mumbai, spent 13 formative years there and later enjoyed many more vacations, has supported its Ranji team for 14 years or otherwise basically loved (the better parts) of the city, it is infinitely difficult to accept the fact that Mumbai's team lost 5, that's right, 5 whole games in the last over. I mean, if you want to lose, lose comprehensively i say. What is the point in starting well getting the hopes up only to get 3 run-outs in the last over? :x

And i'd like to direct a fair bit of this acrimony, and a battery of "the-f-word" toward the coach. Lalchand Rajput, i believe his name is. I may, perhaps, be a mere novice here, but let me explain how he has led the team to its grave downfall.

First rule. It is alright to experiment when you are loosing, or when you have won enough games to qualify. If you stick to a loosing combination, you being stupid. You are being similarly stupid if you sorely need to win and you keep tinkering around with your winning combination. Even a man with meager intelligence as Rafa Benitez(Liverpool again) understands that. If Yogesh Takawale 'keeps well, bats well, why on earth would you kick him out? Why would you keep Pollock, on the brink of hitting form out? Why would you replace Rohan Raje, a bowler of reasonable caliber out to accomodate some ridiculous "spinner" who cannot bat? If you want a spinner, why not Tendulkar? Or Jayasuriya? If Abhishek Nayar is bowling well, why not let him continue? Why persist with that Dilhaara Fernando nonsense? Why be so unreasonably keen to bowl poor 19-year-old Raje in the death, when he clearly buckles under pressure, and when you have a player TWICE his age and a million times more experienced and feared as Shaun Pollock? Why play put the in-form Nayar in soupy positions coming in at number 6 when he could CLEARLY do a better job at 3 than Utthapa? And why not have a man of Utthapa's raw power at 6? Why tenaciously continue with Dwayne Smith when he clearly looked hazy, and when you have Dominick Thornely, an outrageous hitter, waiting? Loots Bosman waiting? And the finally, why play Dilhaara Fernando, who is, by a huge stretch of imagination, merely an ordinary bowler and an extraordinarily horrible fielder and batsman when you have Andre Nel? Did you know Nel has a economy rate below 6?!? Its Godly in T20!

On the bright side, after a few initial hiccups, Jayasuriya entertained like never before. He made mincemeat out of Chennai and Akhtar. Shaun Pollock's bowling was immaculate although he didn't get the wickets to prove it. Sad that two of our best performers in a "young-man's-game" are 38 years old. I thought Ashish Nehra was better than most people made of him. He bowled some excellent bowls and got the wickets for it. At the same time he bowled a lot of ghastly ones that were sent packing. Patchy, i thought, but for someone playing after 2 years, quite good.


And I want Rohit Sharma back. He's from Mumbai and should play for Mumbai. Heaven knows what we could have done with an extra Indian in the middle order who was in such phenomenal form. And alongside Tendulkar and Jayasuriya, he'd be fireworks!

Gopal Krishna Gokhale road, anyone?

Ata he kaay navin? Some rather nationalist spirited coves are demanding that the city of Puna be no longer addressed by the aforementioned label slapped at it, by the pronounciation impaired British, but by its sanct original name "Pune". Its only fair. If Bombay is called Mumbai, Calcutta now becomes Kolkata and even Bangalore has no qualms of being addressed as an absurdly difficult name, Bengalooru, why should this name-correction spirit not enter into the hearts of us Punekars? So that is the way things are gonna be. And people blasphemous to this new rule are threatened with "dire consequences". And Dire, the consequences will be, given the profile of these name-correction protagonists, for they are our feared nationalist brigades. Yes, look out of your windows, and if you happen to see a car, mostly a Sumo or a Scorpio, buzz past at an absolutely manical speed, driven by such a maniac, with an overlarge saffron flag sprightly atop their bosoms, that is who they are. To sum it up, its an ugly car, driven by an ugly man, at an ugly speed, with ugly intentions, and furthermore, if you fail to pay heed to his command, he will make you look like him even if you look like Brad Pitt originally. Also he will use his rather poor knowledge of sciences and rearrange your bones the way he likes them. Well, that is neither here nor there. But the message is clear. One would not, under any given circumstance, want to cross their, or for that matter, their cars' paths.


So at the receiving end of their rather ill-tempers will be those establishments, who have successfully so established their enterprises, bearing the name "Poona". And thus the dire-consequence threat was hurled rather strongly in the dashed faces of the bakers and the hospital owners with such names. "You know how we drive our cars. If you don't change.. well.. we'll be driving them right through your damned establishments."


And no more "JM" road by the way. No acronyms that seemingly diminish the importance of Mr. Jangli Maharaj. No "FC" road either. Well, actually its not Ferguson Road at all. Thanks to a shocking discovery unveiled in one of the papers we subscribe to, we found the real names of some roads. It made quite a point of it recently of how the cultural atheists go about naming the city's roads and what not as if they were unke baap ke. Its actually Gopal Krishna Gokhale road, that ends in Gopal Krishna Gokhale Chowk, not Goodluck Chowk. Not G-K-G Chowk either. Should we not show a modicum of respect to our freedom fighters? What is this nonsense of "MG" road? Dost lagte hai kyaa tumhare?


Quite frankly, I'm very much opposed to naming our roads after freedom fighters in general and then referring to them in full form too. It would create a bit of embarrasment if an occasion were to arise, where one would have to say, "I'm going to so-and-so-bar on Mahatma Gandhi road" or maybe "get 2kg mutton from the butcher on Mahatma Gandhi Road". Imagine! Going to a road named after one who made a rather emphatic point against alcohol drinking for sport, to drink alcohol for sport! Leaves some scope for guilt and rethink doesn't it? I say either not call them that or stop having the bars there. Or maybe have a road, named after some disloyal, treacherous traitor and throw all our bars there! It'd feel much better to say, "I'm going to Chandni Bar on Lord Curzon road" :D


Well with that, I'm going to Apache lounge on Ferguson.. i mean er.. Gopal Krishna Gokhale Road. :-/

Racy!

I'm not a person of Suspense thrillers. Frankly, I find it rather taxing to sit in one place, without being allowed the luxury of letting my mind wander from time to time. While the Hollywood ones are quite out of question, I do find it rather difficult to even get hold of the plots of our domestic Bollywood ones, let alone the delicate intricacies that seem to make all the difference. And while watching the movie "Race" my concentration was, yet again, found wanting.


Scientists call it "Attention Deficit Disorder" and promptly suggest larger gallops of iron, but whatever the reason the above movie passed me by almost as fast as its name suggests. I was not aided by the fact that the names of the characters were rather similar sounding. (Although Ranvir and Rajiv were less so compared to Sophia and Sonia). It made the head swim a bit, trying assiduously to assimilate their names and while i did so, allowing myself a solemn second of thought, a few defining twists-in-the-plot would pass me by. Thankfully, i saw this film on a cd, which allowed me a the rewind and replay option, for had i seen it in the theaters, I'd be quite lost!


But after considerable effort, I managed to grip the plot. And one finds it impossible to comprehend how our story-teller manages to fit in that many number of fake marriages, fake signatures, betrayals, affairs and other things within 2-and-a-half something hours. Basically Saif's girlfriend runs off with Akshaye & Akshaye runs off with Saif's secretary, while in the meantime Saif sleeps with his ex-girlfriend, who is now married to Akshaye, while Akshaye pretends to kill Saif's secretary but sleeps with her instead, and the secretary has already slept with Saif, and Akshaye now plans to kill Saif's girlfriend, to whom the former is married, but the marriage is fake and then has a fake marriage with Saif's secretary. In the meantime Saif dies(killing him, for his large insurance claim, is the protagonist of all the above events) but comes back all-righto, for he faked his own death to find out the cause of his brother's, Akshaye's, rather devious plan. And I must admit, had the writers had a lower ethical standard, they'd also throw in an affair between the secretary and the girlfriend! Anil Kapoor had a cool role of a cop who keeps eating fruits wherever he goes and passes intermittent fruit-based poetry, comprehension of which throws me of the plot for another several valuable seconds


But the film, after a number of rewinds and replays is a hit for me. But then again any film that casts Katrina Kaif is a hit for me! She's probably the most adorable villain i'll ever come across!

Thing i keep thinking about- Part I

1. If women with big eyes, small noses and large lips are supposed to be attractive, why are we so attracted to Katrina Kaif?


2. What do these Punjabi phrases that intermittently lace our Bollywood movies and songs mean? What are the meanings of "Mahi Ve", "Tashan" and "Chak De"?


3. Where is Dale Steyn and why is he not playing for Bangalore yet? Heck, where is his cute girlfriend?


4. Is it too weird to like Metal and Pop at the same time?


5. Even if Pritam copied some obscure Korean song, what is the harm? Had he not done so, would we Indians have ever heard those songs?


6. Will Sarkar Raj be a thriller or a family drama? Also, why does Ram Gopal Verma make films in such dimly lit locales and dingy old sets?


7. Why doesn't Ishant Sharma get a haircut and STOP smiling?


8. Why would i support Kolkata Knight Riders when i have never ever been anywhere close to Kolkata in my puff? And if your answer is as juvenile as "oh, it is a great team!", then why don't you support Australia in international cricket?



9. Do we really need the supplement of the Times of India? (E.g Bombay Times). They could just bung the puzzles and the jokes in the main paper. Who cares if Celina Jaitely slapped her driver or Amrita Arora bought a new purse?


10. If Andrew Symonds looks like a monkey, why can't he just admit it? Despite his looks, he could whip the ass of any player, any day..


11. Don' the Japanese have the COOLEST names?? Hi-de-to-shi na-ka-ta!


12. Why do people think the British have an accent? They invented the language and that is the way it is supposed to be spoken. Does one say the French have a "French Accent"?


13. Is the Panchvi Pass song irritating or is it irritating?


14. If we have banned Bombay's bar girls and kicked the bread from their mouths, is it fair to allow firang cheerleaders?


15. Do we really like the new Amitabh Bachchan with his bird dresses and philandering with women half his age?


16.If we want to study charismatic leaders, why do we never chronicle our sports captains? Why do "leaders" have to be old, bald, dull and so dudh-se-dhule-hue? Frankly, a little controversy here and a small mistake there makes a person look oddly more human and approachable.

17. I'm totally in love with Shobhaa De. Never have i seen a woman so forthright and in-your-face. I think feminist women ought to learn from her that feminism is not merely getting together and abusing men. It is about womens' empowerment and that alone. Alongwith that she is a beyond awesome writer. And if you can maintain that charisma at the age of 60, God bless you man..

Kings, Lions and Tigers.

Come ON! Kolkata Knight Riders?! Surely, one could expect someone with abundance of creativity as SRK to come up with something better. But conversely, SRK came up with what sounds like the most senseless name there is in the IPL. Knight-Riders. One could make certain juvenile sense out of "night-riders"(ref: to Nikhil who'd call his fantasy team that, to which i agree), but the name "Knight"-riders makes me think of dirty things. :). Knights ride horses already! So who rides on them Knights then?


But its a sad trend altogether. Ever since the launch of the PHL,(we seem to have forgotten in this recent IPL excitement, hence i feel the need to remind. Premier Hockey League.) there have been a slew of clubs, with a slew of names that reiterated their teams' association and correlation with Lions and Tigers. Lions and Tigers. Not just in English, but also in Hindi.(to preserve the novelty of their names, perhaps?) They are on their names, crests everything. Sure, they represent bullish creatures, but they are not the only bullies in the vast forests. The only team that has, thankfully, jumped off this bandwagon is the Deccan Chargers, with their Bull crest. It is quite a refreshing change. And quite an awesome team too.


But overall, i must say that the IPL has come up with more innovative names than Indians have ever before. I like the name Royal Challengers. It is symbolic of Vijay Mallya's deadly creativity and dashing nature to go out and name his team after his alcohol, ooops, "packaged drinking water" brand. I even like Deccan Chargers. It is, admittedly a little obscure,(made me think of mobile chargers at first), but it kinda sounds cool and wonderfully inventive. But otherwise, Chennai "Super Kings" sounds just meaningless as does "Kings XI Punjab". "Kings XI Punjab". That is another silly name. It sounds like the suffix "Punjab" was added just to make sure people know where the team is located. You know, the presence of Pathan, Lee, Sreesanth and Sangakkara is quite misleading. (one observation: The fact that theses teams are called "kings" or "royal", i guess are, exemplary of the amount of money in the IPL. Only the SUPER-est kings could cough up so much for MS Dhoni :D). Delhi Daredevils sounds fine. I guess one can surely envisage someone like Sehwag with the "Daredevil" tag. Goes with their mascot(Akshay Kumar) too.


My point is, that when you name a team, it should say something about the team or the host location. For example, Chennai Super Kings hardly says anything about Chennai, its people or even its team. It only suggests that the owner is quite a "king", that too a super one in his own right. I'd like it if teams were called something that the people could identify with. Call me biased, but I LOVE the name Mumbai Indians. It says about Bombay that it really belongs to no one in particular(quite an opposed thought to what many influentials in Bombay are declined to believe :D). But yes, Bombay really doesn't have such a strong and old indigenous culture. Whatever culture exists is a conglomeration of the variety of people that reside there. Indians, that reside there. They have made a unique culture for themselves. I love the ad too, which shows the helpfulness and omnipresence of the Mumbaikar. If only Ambani got us a better team :((...



Given my way, I'd call the teams after their cuisines. I know it'd sound quite peurile, but think!


Mumbai Wadapavs!

Main tumhare bachche ki maa ban ne waali hoon!

Redundancy is a problem everywhere. Even in our TV shows. Its been 3 days into my vacation now and let me tell you I have watched a LOT of TV shows, English, Hindi and Marathi. I’ve even watched some Tamil ones to see how FAST they talk! :p.. But yes, English, Hindi and Marathi being the ones I’ve watched a lot of and understood the plots of quite comprehensively. And the realization that has come about through the viewership experience of some Hindi TV shows is the exorbitance of characters that has plagued the industry which makes a non-routine viewer feel quite out of place.

They nullify this confusion by making the plot primitively simple. After seeing a few episodes of Kyunki Saas and blaahs, I must say, that they’ve radically redefined the concept of “joint family”. It is more like a small village there. There are mothers, fathers, uncles, aunts, grandmothers, great-grandmothers and if I’m not mistaken, there was also a Baa who was like the mother of all grannies. She must be like a million years old. And mind you, that is just the legitimate family! Often the men go, have flings with different women who return, brandishing their fists at the integrity of the family screeching.. “mein tumhare bacche ki maa ban ne waali hoon”. And so the men get confused. Which of them actually slept with that woman? And which of them was stupid enough to NOT use Protection? Don’t they read the signs on the state transport buses? (condom kab kab..) The troublesome woman also, in her passionate speech, is a little confused as to the identity of the perpetrator. And after a reasonable amount of sound-effects and some tasteless zoom-ins from various angles on the plethora of men present at the scene(which takes an average of 5 minutes so that the poor, victimized woman can regain her composure), the defector is found to be, quite obviously, the youngest one of the lot, for the simple reason that all the other men have already had a female fist brandished in their faces and have learnt their lesson.(of using Protection next time).

And then there are tears. From all counters. Enough tears to purge the water shortage problems of Africa forever. Enough to pose a greater threat of the sea level increase than global warming. The beleaguered wives cry. The manipulated woman cries. The disappointed mothers cry. The reminiscing fathers cry. The grandparents too cry as the family forgets to feed them. The defaulting men too weep for their foolish ignorance, of repeated warnings of using Protection. And suddenly this charade ends with the unholy woman deciding to leave the defector husband and go live a life of asceticism and raise the bastard child(hey, what else can I use?) by herself. Peace prevails for another 20 years.

But lo and behold! This bastard child has grown and how! He now has a flashy car, an uber-cool hair-do and an attitude which has people call him a bastard behind his back(funny eh?). Fiercely loyal to his mother, when he comes to know about this engagement and estrangement with such an evil father he swears vengeance. He meets his lawyer friend(they always seem to have one at hand, useful, what?) and contrives to file a suit so flamboyant that would have his mother and him live a life of fabulous luxury. While the previously victimized woman has now become all catty and vamp-like with make up that would make Picasso stand up and pat the back of the make-up man, and has taken to wearing rather revealing clothes when compared to other women her age,(which makes one think, how did she not get knocked up more often?). Meanwhile the wife as inherited her saas’ sarees alongwith the fashion statement of 20 years ago. (Which might make the husband kick himself for leaving the wrong woman.). Confrontation. And then there are powerful dialogues between the son and the father, the wife and the son, the father and his fling-mate, the fling-mate and the wife and other permutations that admit themselves within these 4 major parties. The “elders of the family” (as they call themselves) intervene and nettle with dialogues like “maine kaha tha..” and others lending a similar effect. If there is a legitimate son, one should expect a brawl in a bar with the illegitimate, staking his claim on the family fortune while the legitimate, staking HIS claim on his father’s integrity. In the presence of a legitimate daughter, the najaayaz bachcha should fall in love with her. If she’s a frivolous brat, not unlike her father, she goes with him creating a new level of discord in the family. If she has inherited her mother’s simplicity and empathy for her father, she resists his overtures. Of course, the illegitimate son, having inherited his father’s lack of tact and the overbearing lust, rapes the daughter and flees the country. Tears, tears, tears. And more illegitimate children. And so it goes on.

Now, my question to the progenitor of this exhibition of all possible forms of vileness is, Really woman, how many time will you take your damned 20 year leap and dish out that tattered old tale of yours over and over again? Are the days of promoting good family values and culture really gone and replaced by this fanciful display of the human weakness of committing sinful misdeeds? Do you think we really enjoy this? How many times are we men going to go out and commit adultery without using Protection? Do you think we are THAT stupid? An altogether different question I have is, what does this protagonist, quintessential family do to sustain its castle and its countless inhabitants? Don’t their children get lost? And when the hell is Baa gonna die?!

And finally in English sitcoms, do we really need Elaine (Seinfeld) or Phoebe (Friends) or Claire(My Wife and Kids) or Joey and Stephanie (Full House) or the half-a-dozen people falling ridiculously in love with each other repeatedly in the OC?

And let us NOT talk about the Bold and the Beautiful at all. If you call your TV show something like that I don’t think there is a point in trying to analyse your ethical standards. :)

Of Death Merchant and other such things..

Often stupid things make me think. I dunno what it is about these stupid, little things in my life, but that they set my clockwork in motion is quite certain. Sure, I’m not saying that my clockwork is moved to action so very easily. It remains rather stubbornly jammed in presence of math, logic and other career defining stuff. But stupid stuff.. gets me mind to work faster than them Ferraris.. yes sireee..

For example, there I was walking down the street, on my way back home, and my bag gets caught in the blasted brake-handle of a pulsar parked quite ineptly outside the confines of the regular demarcated parking area. Naturally I was unhappy and I was just scouting around for a reason to ridicule the fellow’s tactlessness, when on closer inspection of the contrivance I see a sticker.. “Death Merchant”

As mentioned before, the sight of a meaningless phrase got me thinking. “Hmm”, I said to myself.. “interesting”, I remarked.. how innovative..

“Death Merchant”.. Our Mr. Death seems to be catching up the times, what? Its obvious that due to the increased population, Death too has joined the outsourcing bandwagon to help him with this rather austere, time-precision requiring task. Surely, he found a few select henchmen, (called the “Death Merchants”) to park their damned bikes in the middle of the road and have the mere mortals get their bags tangled into their brake-handles.

It is such an abysmal concept! “Death Merchant” indeed. What does such a fellow do? Trade in deaths? Does he follow the TQM concept in running his business? How does he manage the relationships with his customers? Has he any customers? If any, why the hell do they go to him? To die all over again? Well then, he’s a dimwit trading with further dimwits. Is traveling salesman or has he a shop? Does he go knocking on people’s doors in their afternoon nap times(as do normal salesmen) and say “give me RS 500000 and I give you death” or does he say “I’ll give YOU Rs 500000 and give you death free” ?

Either way, its quite a laughable concept. “Death Merchant”. Who’d pay to die? Its absolute nonsense. And if a “death merchant” has to pay to kill people, he’s quite pathetic, isn’t he? Who’d employ such a loss-making old frump, who not only parks poorly, but pays people to kill them? He’s be a “dead” investment (pun intended :D). You can see his boss telling him.. “Look here Death Merchant, I don’t think this is working out. You can’t just go out killing people and distributing money. Not only is this inviable business but it is also against the law. Not the Penal Code, you idiot. You see, according to Sale of Goods Act, we can only trade in moveable property and Death isn’t moveable. You get it, you ham-handed old middle-of-the-road-bike-parking menace? I mean, I’d consider breaking the rules for a profit-making enterprise, but this venture is a dud. Non-profit AND breaking the law is a complete washout.”

I know a of a fellow who calls himself the “Death Giver”. As ridiculous as that sounds, it in any case more correct than "Death Merchant". People DO give death. Doesn’t the court judge pronounce a sentence as “I give you death!”? So I guess that’s what he is.. a supreme court judge of sorts. Unless he’s like.. the “death giver” in charge of mercy pleas. Then he becomes the president.

And that, my second-rate-bike-parking-friend, is a more honourable position to be in. The president of the nation. Not some stupid flunkey who can’t park a bike and operates in an illegal, non-profit trade!

For the Love of GOD!

Jesus Christ! They're at it again..! Once again the indigenous of a sovereign are up in arms and brandishing that good old phrase "cultural and religious genocide" (Man.. that phrase is used a LOT these days, huh?) I am referring of course, to the Tibetans, who claim that China have, over the years, snatched away a considerable amount of their humanitarian rights & are arduously trying to rob Tibet's cultural identity. And the Tibetans are all over the place. you name it(the place) and there is a mob of Tibetans pleading to their respective resident countries to help them stop this China's blatant outrage. Quite an outrage it must be, which should stir the adherents of one of the most peaceful and sanguine religions(the Buddhists) on the streets, and quite wistfully, up in arms..

I guess one can't blame China. They just don't understand and they never will. Historically, China have lacked tact. The gun-happy Chinese, almost too often, tend to skip the "saam" and the "daam" phase and move, quite ardently towards towards the "dand" phase of things. They show about as much refinement with their policy-implementation as does a dog with the young master's homework! Take the most heavily documented one.. "you won't stop having kids, we'll lug you to the nearest hospital and defunctionalise your genetalia.. so, who do you want it to be? the man or the woman? we don't really care.. as long as we stop the flow of kids, we're ok.."

Hey Bhagwaan! i mean REALLY! How long are we gonna have to put up with this? I mean, the religions are like SO OLD! Their just too old to fight over.. Sikhism started about 600 years ago, Islam started some 1600 years ago, Christianity 2000 years ago, Buddhism 2200 years ago while Judaism and Hinduism are about as old as the dinosaurs!( Shows the strength of religions, doesn't it? Dinosaurs have gone, yet Hinduism is still ready to pelt a brick in any other heathen's face!)

Ya Allah!.. i have given up. All this religion.. its all a facade. There's nothing in it. They're all teaching the same things. You are supposed to believe in God, NOT kill your neighbour, NOT rob him blind and NOT sleep with his wife. I'd like to see a religion in any part of the world the defeats any of these provisions. Then we'd have something to fight about. its not worth fighting over differential set of opinions on how to cut, cook and eat our animals.

i think(& seriously hope) that one day there will be no religion. Just Law. A set of rules EVERYONE follows. No questions asked. As it is, all religions teach the same thing, so why don't we constitutionalise it all and call it the Bible or the Quran or the Geeta? "Thou shalst not entereth into a contract till thy attaineth the age of 18, Else thy agreement shall be consider'd void!!" :-P

Damn, i sure hope that happens within the next 3000 years!

Till then , Wahe Guruji!

Puntering around at Sydney

I swear by God. The volatile Indian media has (even given its old record) blown the unfortunate events in Sydney out of all sense of proportion.
Bucknor got sacked, and yes, the old menace had the bird coming for a while now. With all due respect to his umpiring career, today he's as blind as a bat and as deaf as any other such deficient animal and has otherwise done nothing to enhance my opinion of those who have traversed over 60 summers.
Harbhajan Singh who (apparently) expressed his frank opinion on about how Andrew Symonds resembles an ape(which is true!) was handed a severe ban, (where i'm sure what Harbhajan said was a jovial and friendly "tere maa ki.." which unfortunately Symonds chose to interpret as "monkey") :)
Facts taken. But as sad and eye-popping as all of this is, it doesn't quite sadden or pop the eye-balls as does the ridiculousness that surrounds the Aussie skipper, Ricky Ponting.

For those unintroduced, Ricky Ponting is a man with a distinguished career behind him. A man of some 20+ centuries, and many a half-centuries in both the forms of the game and a strong 40+ average in a career spanning over 200 matches! He's successfully masterminded two World Cup campaigns and further won one more as a mere player.
On the other hand one could enumerate the lows he's had, the most glaring ones being the loss of the Ashes, Chris Cairns remark about his mother's ability to lead the multi-talented Aussie side and of course the incessant and innumerable quips about his "arrogant" and "unsporting" showing in many a games.


So, back to the last and undiscussed controversy, Ponting has been accused, yet again, of "unsporting conduct" & the heads of many a cricketing nation are calling for his head led most ferociously by the BCCI, whose team found the shorter straw at Sydney. Of course the Indian media has made no effort to bite back or mince their words in their rather acrimonious stand on this entire affair surrounding Ponting & has called and has called for his "cap". All of this, without giving so much as a second thought to the drops of sweat that have long discoloured, but yet somehow enriched the flair and esteem of the very baggy green that is being called for.

I guess "over-exultation of happiness" is what it all comes down to. My bitch is, that if a game has been won, at the death,(although, not, as they say, "fair-and-square") one does reserve the right to be happy and pump the fist around a bit, even if it is indeed a Gentleman's game. If you are not allowed to be happy when you are absolutely on the brink of popping the champagne, then when does one express happiness? But the cricketing bodies and the media remain resolute. In cricket, there is no room for this "blatant" show of happiness. What is allowed and expected is the good old English spirit of warmth and fraternity. If you win some 16 hard fought test matches, on the trot, shattering a few well set records on the way,(and the most mentionable would be the one set by Ponting's more "noble" predecessor Steve Waugh) what you're supposed to do, is look all calm and gentlemanly and, shake the hand of the loosing party(who were quivering with anger in the wake of the most appalling umpiring decisions) & walk off without a modicum of joy.

The concept of a "Gentleman's game" fails to find reason with me. Its really stupid. There is no such nonsense, to my knowledge in any other game. And such a game that prioritizes good healthy conduct over the aggressive killer instinct fails to interest me whatsoever(which possibly explains why England have failed to win a World Cup in the game they have created). Its just NOT Cricket!