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!

Oh Barber!

"Oh Barber, My barber,
what evil grippeth thy mighty heart, when i entereth thy store?"

OK, admittedly that was quite a sad attempt at the Shakespearan, but seriously, i need to raise this question to The Barbers of The World.. "what is your bitch with me man? Why do you arduously contrive, at every given opportunity to give me a haircut that would remind one of the beleaguered Third World? Have i offended the lot of you in some way? Well if not, here you go fuckers!"

Yes, the Iron has indeed entered my soul. So let me get down to the details of this funereal charade.

Usually, when my hair is looking(and feeling) absolutely top-notch, inviting praise and jealousy from Friends and Foe for its resplendence, or otherwise reminding people how hair has evolved from being just a "Growth-on-the-Head" to a sublime beauty tool, my parents order me to put it under the cleaver. There is the customary argument & taunting in the home for 3-something weeks & when domestic dissonance reaches its climax, father whoops out the scissor and threatens to do something with the hair, should I not hand over a sizeable amount of it to the barber within 10 hours.

Alone,sad and desolate, I begin my tedious and melancholic trudge toward the devil's workshop. Inconsolable, the Hair looks as beautiful as never before, as if it were its Swan-Song. As i arrive at the barber's lair, it starts to itch, not unlike a sacrificial goat just before Prosecution. And when my turn comes, the Hellion has a cannibal look in his eye much like the butcher on the aforementioned sacrifice. Speciously, he calms me down. Flatteringly, he asks me if i have a certain haircut in mind and Deviously gets down to business.

I am quite a considerate human being. I study the psychology of the individual & find it in my heart to search for a shred of good in the most Hitlerean of men. "He might have a domestic sadness", i say. And i let him butcher my hair thinking, "well atleast HE's happy!" and let the savagery continue.

When i get up and look at the funereal individual staring out of the mirror, my immediate thought is to drop all the mercenary niceties and lacerate him with the same hell-condemned scissor. And yet again, my inability to be rude intervenes. The barber never deserves the hard-earned money of my father's, but a dislocated jaw for what he did! My father's aforementioned threat seems so seductive now! Was i a dictator, i'd give the barber the Chair or some similar contrivance of torture for his rapacious act. But can I? NOO! That damned "good Heart" cuts my path and speaks sermons of ethical behavior, philanthropy and "taking the "High Road". Bleeeaaaaahh

I look in the mirror again ar my "Buddhist-Monk-Hair-do" and think that taking the "High Road" would be something that someone i look like right now would most certainly do!(the buddhist monk, you retards!)

confessions of a RocKINg DYuuDe

i really dunno what it is that has taken over the mind the average indian teen. what is this ridiculous obsession that we have to proclaim to the world that we are full of some "attitude" :o?

First of all the word "attitude" in itself is quite vague and non-commital when it comes to gauging its value. in a normal world, a qualifying value would be added to the word "attitude" so that it becomes more precise in meaning. The most common values being "good attitude" or "bad attitude" or "generous attitude" and so on.. most people are quite unaware of this and seem to think that the word "attitude" itself means something out of this world! maybe it does, but as far as my humble knowledge of english goes, i am still quite unaware..

Then there is another sorrily overused word. how many times have you heard the word "rocking" and felt like sloshing the neck of the one who said it? perhaps it is only I who has little patience with these "rocking dudes" but it gets really irritating when people address themselves(or other people for that matter) as "rocking". "ROCKING"???? What the hell does that mean?? Is it that when you want to compliment someone for their excellent personalities you equate them with stones? STONES?? forgive me for bringing my marathi background and upbringing into all this, but usually the word "stone" or "rock" in marathi would be use to address the most intellectually incapable. Should the word be used to address you in marathi, you would quiver under the coarse insult! yet, on using the hallowed word "rocking", you would swell out your chest in pride and bark about it for days!

and for the outro. its never "kewl" ok??? Never. If you ever want to make a referral to an object or person whose defining attribute seems to be "slightly less warm than its usual species" why refer to a Liverpudlian winger originally from Australia? (ref: harry kewell) :)