DISCLAIMER
ALL THE CHARACTERS AND INCIDENTS IN THIS POST ARE EITHER TRUE OR BASED ON TRUTH. ANY RESEMBLENCE TO PERSONS LIVING OR DEAD IS PURELY INTENTIONAL
I was thinking about this today march 30, 2009 after a brief brush with Jeseena at the NCC grounds. So I decided to post my rather vague thoughts here.
Okay first I’ll be honest with this. I’m a normal Indian, so I’m crazy about this stupid sport, though, half the time I don’t understand how it works (silly point, mid point blah, blah, blah…and what is Power play by the way? They play powerfully only during the power play is it?) And I like Sachin Tendulkar, the great cricketing genius apart from all the others, even though I don’t know half their names. People may talk about Sir Donald Bradman, Sir Vivian Richards and others with or without a ‘Sir’ prefixing their names and even the master blaster is Bradman’s fan it seems. Whatever! But for me, cricket is my religion and Sachin the God. Yes, I love Dhoni too and all the others, right from Javagal Sreenath to the nobody who joined the team a week or so ago. I just can’t hate any cricketer but I’ve had these silly quarrels and frustrations regarding them.
I’ll write about the four cricketers who kept my teenage…well, lively.
The thing is, I guess, I –the silent, innocent, calm, goody-goody girl, am provoked by some stupid fans or a\c’s. It’s one thing liking Chow Chow Ganguly, but how can they say that, that rasagulla gulping stupid prince of Kolkatta is a better cricketer than Sachin? The ‘war’ between us the die hard Sachin Tendulkar fans and Sourav Ganguly’s fans was at its peak during my 10th standard.
I still remember those days. I had just started talking that my classmates said that they had finally got to hear my voice and, believe it or not, I was still sincere in learning – I mean, I actually loved learning. Students appearing for board exams are allowed to sit anywhere around the classroom and learn. So I always chose the pillar outside the classroom because that particular spot is visible from three of the five staff rooms which would be a strong factor against my urge to watch the volleyball and throw ball practices. (Heart attacks anyone?) And always that’s where this bully gang of Ganguly fans comes to confront me. They’d say that Sachin lives in past glory, Sachin is stuck to hospitals, Sachin is not handsome, and Sachin is not consistent. And… Ganguly is handsome (excuse me?!!?!!), Ganguly is the captain; Ganguly is healthy and so on. And I’d be thinking, ‘Captain? My foot! He scored less than the 12th man of the team did okay?’
If India went to the 2003 WC finals it’s because of enga thalaivar’s explosive centuries okay? And anyone who’s sitting idle won’t be hurt enough to go to a doctor. Duh! Of course his wife Dona is chaaaaaaaaaaaarming and his daughter Sana is cuuuuute and his house is biiiiiiiiig but that doesn’t mean you can say that Rasagulla Gulper is greater than the Master Blaster.
Forget cold wars. Do you know which is more exasperating than that? Listening to the love lorn fans’ gibberish. Jam Dabba Dravid is a superb player, The Wall, plays for the team than himself, very sincere – yeah, whatever, and yes I’m happy that he’s ethnically Tamilian. But his fans! Gosh! They are just impossible! He was already 30 when obviously worried Flowery Autumn (O.K I tried to be funny. I meant Jammy’s mommy and daddy) decided to get him married to Dr. Vijeta Pandarkar. I don’t know how she looks or anything else but I, a non-Dravid fan, love her. (C’mon yaar! She’s a cricketer’s wife! How can I not like her?) So when he gets married you’re happy for him, congratulate him through a fan club or something but do you curse him, especially if you had been his hard core fan? Sneha did. You should’ve seen her crying and tearing his blow ups and the album full of ‘Dravid’ian stuff she’s been collecting. Guess what she said? “I was in love with him, I prayed he should play well, I bunked school to watch him play and he marries a stupid doctor from Nagpur?” I was like ,” what?! Hello, he won’t even be aware that you exist!”
This started in my 9th std actually. Look, I love milk okay? I dunno why but I just love milk, curd, lassi, butter I mean I love everything milk. But almost the whole of my class hates milk. Every lunch hour thay come to me and say, ‘you realy like milk? YUCK!” Bust it! I mean, you hate milk? Fine, but I looove milk okay? I almost forgot the incident when three of my friends came to my pillar in 10th std. We were talking about filmi gossip and cricket *surprise*surprise* when suddenly Shammu said, ‘I want to drink milk now’. I was like ‘what?you?milk?’ and Suppu and R said, ‘Me toooooo’
I was sure I had gone mad. I mean these three liking milk? And suddenly Shammu blurts out, ‘No wonder Viru(excuse me?) is soooo handsome (coff, coff) Then they started talking about ‘Viru’ the great. Sehwag should thank his lucky stars that he was not near me then. God, I hate ‘em.
Everything was over when I came to college. Atlest that’s what I thought.
I have no idea how or when Zoo-Abscond-Singh Dhoni came into the picture. I was not much impressed by his 183 and was busy with +2 andcollege admission. Also I had tpld myself that I’m a grown up and should act like one. And my cousin Sudev and Jeseena started ooooDhooooni oooo – ing. And my headache started. Again.
I just have one thing to say, ‘LEAVE ME ALONE, DUDE’
Tuesday, May 5, 2009
Saturday, April 25, 2009
Why I hate IPL
Basically I love sports, even though I don’t understand any of them – including cricket. But I can jump up and down happily if I read about some team or the other (especially Indian) doing well in a tournament. And like all cricket fans – I mean crazily-in-love-with-cricket fans – I too wanted to be the captain of the MEN’S team and “lead them to greater heights”. Ahem. Well, I had so many crazy dreams when I was in school.
My favorite football team used to be Real Madrid. So having read about those highly exciting football matches in Europe and about the County cricket mela in Britain, I thought I’ll up soon (*cough#cough#cough*) and start a big “Bharatiya Sports Mela” (BSM) which will be a perennial tourney with all zonal sports teams competing for the most coveted titles in their respective sport.
I had even decided the names for the zonal teams; Nico Ninjas from Andaman and Nicobar, D(w)eep Sea Devils from Lakshadweep, Saffron Soldiers from Kashmir, The Rajputs from Rajasthan, The Laughing Sardars from Punjab (they’ll have the last laugh it seems aarrghhh), The Assamese Ulfas (rumba overla?) and the Naga Cobras for the whole of North East. I actually have no idea how I came up with these names. I also had named the BSM trophies you know, most of them after my favorite sportspersons. The BSM Sachin Tendulkar Cup for men’s cricket, The BSM Mithali Raj Cup for women’s cricket, The BSM Dhyan Chand Cup for hockey, The BSM Bhaichang Bhutia Cup for football, The BSM K.T.DharmaRaja (my chittappa) Cup for basketball, The BSM Vishwanathan Anand Title for chess, The BSM Leander Paes Cup for tennis, The BSM Jhansi Ki Rani Trophy for women’s fencing, The BSM Prithviraj Chauhan Trophy for men’s fencing, The Raja Raja Chola Cup for water sports and…okay enough. I myself feel like saying, “onakku rumba than di”.
I had such big dreams even before I could finish my 10th std. A couple of years later suddenly some old men came up with this ICL thingy with teams throughout the subcontinent, from Chennai Superstars to Lahore Lions. I was like, “Hello?” The format was my idea okay and these old men simply copy it. Well, yeah, I copied it from the Europeans, but that’s not the problem now. KAPIL DEV STOLE MY IDEA. But then, ICL being a cricket tourney (the sport I love the most) a rebel one at that (I hate the BCCI) I started following it as much as I can (newspapers didn’t give much importance to it) even before the matches started. By the time they did, BCCI endorsed IPL was ready to go. I was like, “What the hell?” I create the BSM in my mind, Kapil Dev comes up with ICL and I accept it because its cricket then immediately this Lalit Modi guy brings in IPL? Hello? But then again IPL being cricket I started singing, “S-U-P-E-R-K-I-N-G-S Idhu Chennai Chennai Super Kings, Namma yellow jersey end rum wins” (Should add more salt in my food)
Actually I loooooooooooooooove the CSK (count the o’s) but I hate IPL. The first edition last year got over with Rajasthan Royals winning and me fuming (Chennai? Runner? Dude, are you kidding me?) This year I’ve decided I’ll hate UPL all my life. We have general elections this summer which is more important than cricket even for me. These BCCI b*****ds take IPL out of the nation because they won’t get the amount of security they want. I’m sure this sent out a very clear message to the world, “India can’t afford a high level security to ‘anyone’. Mumbai incident is because of India’s poor defense mechanism. South Africa had their elections too. In three phases and all of them started after the IPL inaugural. Forget the ‘democracy’ there. Whatever is the case they would’ve provided more security to voting booths than hotels and stadiums. Adha BCCI pothindu ethukkuma? Jharkand took the elections in two phases both of which began after IPL did. So did MSDhoni, the superhero of the nation’s youth vote? Did the others vote? Will they? What about the iconic Dravid and Kumble? Karnataka elections got over when they were in SA.
They chose to ignore their fundamental democratic right. Will they do the same with their other rights? NO! They’ll scream, “As I am a citizen of India…” I know you feel like saying shut up Sahithya, but I have one final thing to say. I HATE IPL.
My favorite football team used to be Real Madrid. So having read about those highly exciting football matches in Europe and about the County cricket mela in Britain, I thought I’ll up soon (*cough#cough#cough*) and start a big “Bharatiya Sports Mela” (BSM) which will be a perennial tourney with all zonal sports teams competing for the most coveted titles in their respective sport.
I had even decided the names for the zonal teams; Nico Ninjas from Andaman and Nicobar, D(w)eep Sea Devils from Lakshadweep, Saffron Soldiers from Kashmir, The Rajputs from Rajasthan, The Laughing Sardars from Punjab (they’ll have the last laugh it seems aarrghhh), The Assamese Ulfas (rumba overla?) and the Naga Cobras for the whole of North East. I actually have no idea how I came up with these names. I also had named the BSM trophies you know, most of them after my favorite sportspersons. The BSM Sachin Tendulkar Cup for men’s cricket, The BSM Mithali Raj Cup for women’s cricket, The BSM Dhyan Chand Cup for hockey, The BSM Bhaichang Bhutia Cup for football, The BSM K.T.DharmaRaja (my chittappa) Cup for basketball, The BSM Vishwanathan Anand Title for chess, The BSM Leander Paes Cup for tennis, The BSM Jhansi Ki Rani Trophy for women’s fencing, The BSM Prithviraj Chauhan Trophy for men’s fencing, The Raja Raja Chola Cup for water sports and…okay enough. I myself feel like saying, “onakku rumba than di”.
I had such big dreams even before I could finish my 10th std. A couple of years later suddenly some old men came up with this ICL thingy with teams throughout the subcontinent, from Chennai Superstars to Lahore Lions. I was like, “Hello?” The format was my idea okay and these old men simply copy it. Well, yeah, I copied it from the Europeans, but that’s not the problem now. KAPIL DEV STOLE MY IDEA. But then, ICL being a cricket tourney (the sport I love the most) a rebel one at that (I hate the BCCI) I started following it as much as I can (newspapers didn’t give much importance to it) even before the matches started. By the time they did, BCCI endorsed IPL was ready to go. I was like, “What the hell?” I create the BSM in my mind, Kapil Dev comes up with ICL and I accept it because its cricket then immediately this Lalit Modi guy brings in IPL? Hello? But then again IPL being cricket I started singing, “S-U-P-E-R-K-I-N-G-S Idhu Chennai Chennai Super Kings, Namma yellow jersey end rum wins” (Should add more salt in my food)
Actually I loooooooooooooooove the CSK (count the o’s) but I hate IPL. The first edition last year got over with Rajasthan Royals winning and me fuming (Chennai? Runner? Dude, are you kidding me?) This year I’ve decided I’ll hate UPL all my life. We have general elections this summer which is more important than cricket even for me. These BCCI b*****ds take IPL out of the nation because they won’t get the amount of security they want. I’m sure this sent out a very clear message to the world, “India can’t afford a high level security to ‘anyone’. Mumbai incident is because of India’s poor defense mechanism. South Africa had their elections too. In three phases and all of them started after the IPL inaugural. Forget the ‘democracy’ there. Whatever is the case they would’ve provided more security to voting booths than hotels and stadiums. Adha BCCI pothindu ethukkuma? Jharkand took the elections in two phases both of which began after IPL did. So did MSDhoni, the superhero of the nation’s youth vote? Did the others vote? Will they? What about the iconic Dravid and Kumble? Karnataka elections got over when they were in SA.
They chose to ignore their fundamental democratic right. Will they do the same with their other rights? NO! They’ll scream, “As I am a citizen of India…” I know you feel like saying shut up Sahithya, but I have one final thing to say. I HATE IPL.
Saturday, March 28, 2009
I ask for a bill
On 26 March 2009 i.e. a day before Ugadi, I went to the shop to buy things that are needed to make Ugadi special dishes. As I was walking, I decided that I should demand a bill, refuse to accept the product if I’m given the ‘chaani paper’ and not cry when I’m talking (Harry Potter? Who? Me? You got to be joking. I can’t even be a Neville Longbottom!)
Now this store is not the usual one where we get to pick our own stuff. I had to stand outside and ‘request’ the shopkeeper for half a kilogram of Maida. I hated it! Besides, he sort of looked like Dhoni. (Maybe it was just his cropped hair and arrogant eyes) So obviously I hated him the moment I saw him. (I know it is too much. But I just can’t help it. I love hating Dhoni)
He brought the packet and I asked him to show me the other brands. He wore this irritated expression that again reminded me of this extremely talented cricketer I loved to hate so much. After getting what I needed, asked for “the” bill. As I had guessed he scribbled with his motta pencil on the chaani paper and gave it to me.
I asked, “Ethan bill-a? Bill book illiya?
“Bill book-a?” he said with another Dhoni expression. (I hate him!)
He went to his computer, typed something and gave me a printed bill (in Tamil! Now I was like Dhoni in the Tiger biscuit ad. C’mon yaar I’ve never seen a computerized bill in Tamil before).
It’s not a big deal, I know but I felt like I had climbed the Everest. Later, when I was narrating this to my online friend she said that very few people insist a bill at the stores. And the shopkeepers are not very fond of such customers. Sometimes they tend to treat them very badly. Because, giving the customer a bill => paying tax to the government. The customers don’t demand a bill for two reasons. One, waiting for a bill is waste of time. Two, billing for some products mean paying extra in the form of taxes. So they don’t encourage billing.
Before, I thought that demanding a bill is a small gesture to help my country. But it’s not only about seeing that your money reaches the government. If you have the bill, you can demand compensation or exchange your purchase for another one in case it is damaged. Imagine this scenario. You buy a milk mix in a carton and when you open it at home you realise that even though the expiry date is not due, the food product is damaged. Now if you have the bill, you can hold the seller and the manufacturer by their collars or even approach a consumers’ forum. But then if you don’t have any bill you might get this reply, “adhukku onnum panna mudiyadhunga ma!” some times added with an “edatha gaali pannunga”.
I have another tip. Do you know you can actually bargain on M.R.P? Of course you can and even I got the Maida for Rs.15/- though the printed M.R.P was Rs. 18/- .
So be alert, do your duty to exercise your right.
Now this store is not the usual one where we get to pick our own stuff. I had to stand outside and ‘request’ the shopkeeper for half a kilogram of Maida. I hated it! Besides, he sort of looked like Dhoni. (Maybe it was just his cropped hair and arrogant eyes) So obviously I hated him the moment I saw him. (I know it is too much. But I just can’t help it. I love hating Dhoni)
He brought the packet and I asked him to show me the other brands. He wore this irritated expression that again reminded me of this extremely talented cricketer I loved to hate so much. After getting what I needed, asked for “the” bill. As I had guessed he scribbled with his motta pencil on the chaani paper and gave it to me.
I asked, “Ethan bill-a? Bill book illiya?
“Bill book-a?” he said with another Dhoni expression. (I hate him!)
He went to his computer, typed something and gave me a printed bill (in Tamil! Now I was like Dhoni in the Tiger biscuit ad. C’mon yaar I’ve never seen a computerized bill in Tamil before).
It’s not a big deal, I know but I felt like I had climbed the Everest. Later, when I was narrating this to my online friend she said that very few people insist a bill at the stores. And the shopkeepers are not very fond of such customers. Sometimes they tend to treat them very badly. Because, giving the customer a bill => paying tax to the government. The customers don’t demand a bill for two reasons. One, waiting for a bill is waste of time. Two, billing for some products mean paying extra in the form of taxes. So they don’t encourage billing.
Before, I thought that demanding a bill is a small gesture to help my country. But it’s not only about seeing that your money reaches the government. If you have the bill, you can demand compensation or exchange your purchase for another one in case it is damaged. Imagine this scenario. You buy a milk mix in a carton and when you open it at home you realise that even though the expiry date is not due, the food product is damaged. Now if you have the bill, you can hold the seller and the manufacturer by their collars or even approach a consumers’ forum. But then if you don’t have any bill you might get this reply, “adhukku onnum panna mudiyadhunga ma!” some times added with an “edatha gaali pannunga”.
I have another tip. Do you know you can actually bargain on M.R.P? Of course you can and even I got the Maida for Rs.15/- though the printed M.R.P was Rs. 18/- .
So be alert, do your duty to exercise your right.
Sunday, February 15, 2009
Who's fault?
Yay! We live in a safe, secular and free India!! Gimme a break!
This happened in the wake of the Mangalore Pub attack incident resulting in the death of a 16-year-old girl and arrest of an innocent boy who was alleged to have raped her.
The “saviours” of “Indian culture’’ (whatever it really is), a certain Hindutva fringe in Mangalore, Dakshin Karnataka, possibly belonging to the Sri Ram (or rather Ravan) Sene that indulges in beating up and molesting women in public are reported to be behind the incident.
Reports say that the 16-year-old and her female friend-one of them had a friend named Salim- were on their way home from a bus stop when a group of young men clad in saffron outfits stopped them and beat them up for being friends with a Muslim boy. Then they pulled out another person, Rafiq, from the bus and brutally beat him up. Rafiq, now in hiding for the fear of his life from the fanatics and the police, who act like their henchmen, says that the mob took away his purse, watch and a mobile phone. He says that the police forced him to leave the hospital where he went to dress his wounds.
At the police station, the four youngsters and their families were called for an “enquiry” (they couldn’t find the rogues it seems. Yeah, and I’m a troll if I believed that). Salim, Rafiq and their families were harassed at the police station. Rafiq, who placed a complaint on the rogues, says that at first the cops refused to take his complaint and later told the media that they didn’t get any whatsoever. (Another perfect example for ‘coexistence’ in India. These cops have the same job in the same country as Kiran Bedi, Hemant Karkare, Pon.Manickavel and C.Sailendra Babu)
Next day, the girl committed suicide at her home and later the same day; her father lodged a complaint with the police against Salim accusing him of raping his daughter. Salim was arrested by the police in record time (less than 2 hours it seems) and Rafiq immediately went into hiding.
I was quaking with anger when I read this news piece and was fuming all day. Whose fault was that? Who do I blame for spoiling my already unpleasant day? Gandhi, Netaji and their horde of freedom fighters? Those ‘Hindus’ and ‘Muslims’ who fell for the British divide and rule policy and split India into India, Pakistan and Bangladesh? The constitution that allows freaks like Narendra Modi hold top positions in the government? The people who are fanatical enough to choose leaders who vow to humiliate other religions thereby mocking our “secular state” campaign? The people who – either out of fear or out of sheer ignorance and irresponsibility- refuse to raise voices? The police for…you know what? The fourth estate that’s looking for, making up and using stories for financial and personal purposes rather than being an important, citizen friendly democratic tool? Those two girls for being…well, ‘girls’? Salim for being their friend? Salim and Rafiq for being Muslims? The father of the girl who accused an innocent boy (though we’re not sure) either because he was weak enough to do so or because he was fanatical enough to use his daughter’s death to frame an innocent boy? All of us, for wanting the country to be a ‘Paradise on earth’ but doing nothing about it except aping the West? Or is it just me for worrying over it so much instead of simply ignoring it?
This happened in the wake of the Mangalore Pub attack incident resulting in the death of a 16-year-old girl and arrest of an innocent boy who was alleged to have raped her.
The “saviours” of “Indian culture’’ (whatever it really is), a certain Hindutva fringe in Mangalore, Dakshin Karnataka, possibly belonging to the Sri Ram (or rather Ravan) Sene that indulges in beating up and molesting women in public are reported to be behind the incident.
Reports say that the 16-year-old and her female friend-one of them had a friend named Salim- were on their way home from a bus stop when a group of young men clad in saffron outfits stopped them and beat them up for being friends with a Muslim boy. Then they pulled out another person, Rafiq, from the bus and brutally beat him up. Rafiq, now in hiding for the fear of his life from the fanatics and the police, who act like their henchmen, says that the mob took away his purse, watch and a mobile phone. He says that the police forced him to leave the hospital where he went to dress his wounds.
At the police station, the four youngsters and their families were called for an “enquiry” (they couldn’t find the rogues it seems. Yeah, and I’m a troll if I believed that). Salim, Rafiq and their families were harassed at the police station. Rafiq, who placed a complaint on the rogues, says that at first the cops refused to take his complaint and later told the media that they didn’t get any whatsoever. (Another perfect example for ‘coexistence’ in India. These cops have the same job in the same country as Kiran Bedi, Hemant Karkare, Pon.Manickavel and C.Sailendra Babu)
Next day, the girl committed suicide at her home and later the same day; her father lodged a complaint with the police against Salim accusing him of raping his daughter. Salim was arrested by the police in record time (less than 2 hours it seems) and Rafiq immediately went into hiding.
I was quaking with anger when I read this news piece and was fuming all day. Whose fault was that? Who do I blame for spoiling my already unpleasant day? Gandhi, Netaji and their horde of freedom fighters? Those ‘Hindus’ and ‘Muslims’ who fell for the British divide and rule policy and split India into India, Pakistan and Bangladesh? The constitution that allows freaks like Narendra Modi hold top positions in the government? The people who are fanatical enough to choose leaders who vow to humiliate other religions thereby mocking our “secular state” campaign? The people who – either out of fear or out of sheer ignorance and irresponsibility- refuse to raise voices? The police for…you know what? The fourth estate that’s looking for, making up and using stories for financial and personal purposes rather than being an important, citizen friendly democratic tool? Those two girls for being…well, ‘girls’? Salim for being their friend? Salim and Rafiq for being Muslims? The father of the girl who accused an innocent boy (though we’re not sure) either because he was weak enough to do so or because he was fanatical enough to use his daughter’s death to frame an innocent boy? All of us, for wanting the country to be a ‘Paradise on earth’ but doing nothing about it except aping the West? Or is it just me for worrying over it so much instead of simply ignoring it?
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