The Record is where it belongs...

Finally...all is right with the world..Sachin Tendulkar, the best batsman in the world now holds the record for the highest individual score in an ODI and becomes the first batsman in the world to score a double hundred in an ODI.This was something he threatened to do in the Innings of 186 n.o. and 163 against New Zealand and 175 against Australia. Fate conspired in different ways to keep him from reaching the milestone. If the first time, he ran out of overs, second time he was hampered by injury and was unlucky to receive an awkward bounce during his knock of 175. But against South Africa at Gwalior nothing could stop him. From the first ball he faced, it was as if he was playing in a different zone altogether. This was a day that destiny had chosen to put the rightful heir on the throne. Right from the time he started playing, there was a belief in the people who watched him that if someone were to score 200 in an ODI ever, that would be Sachin Tendulkar. But as the wheel of time rolled by, that belief slowly started to die in many hearts. They thought at almost 37 years old, it was beyond him now.

Personally, I wanted Sachin to get a 100 yesterday and I am not ashamed to say that I didn't care if India won or lost as long as that happened. The way he started and got to the half century in a flash, I started getting a bit nervous. In my mind were many of his innings in 2008-09 where he fell in the nineties. There was no way to watch the match as I was in office. Cricinfo and AIR commentary on my iPod was the only avenue to keep abreast of the happenings. When he reached his century I started breathing easier. I was expecting him to cut loose after that and lose his wicket in the bid to accelerate the scoring. But as the scores started climbing, I was slowly realising that we were witnessing something special. Next milestone, 150 runs, came and went. With that he became the batsman with maximum 150+ scores. With each ball I feared the worst. A mis hit to long on, cramps, a run out while trying to pinch a double. Then exactly that happened. While going for a double, the stumps were broken and the decision was referred to the third umpire. I could not see the replays first hand and had to wait about a minute to know the verdict from the commentators on all India Radio. Might have been the longest one minute of my life. My palms were all sweaty and I didnt have enough nails to chew on. But even before the commentators confirmed it, the roar I heard in the background from the stadium told me it was not out. Then the belief set in...this was going to be Sachin's day. On this day in 1988 he entered the record books for the first time along with Vinod Kambli for the partnership of 664. After 22 years, he was meant to make history all over again. He crossed his personal best and entered the 190s. A small matter of the highest individual score was passed on the way but sights were set on the big one. Then something happened. Dhoni came in and started hogging the strike. Even though he was murdering the bowling and scoring heavily, never have I wished more that he mishit one and keep a boundary to a single. There were 2 overs left and Sachin was on 199. 49th over from Dale Steyn was played out by Dhoni and more irritatingly, he took a single off the last ball. I would have cursed him out loud if it were'nt for the fact that I was in the Office. I couldnt imagine Sachin being left stranded on 199 n.o. But then finally Dhoni took a single and Sachin wasted no time sealing the deal. First double hundred in an ODI by a batsman. Okay....not really a first double hundred in an ODI. Belinda Clark from Australia scored 229 against Denmark. But who cares about Women's Cricket?

Batting through 50 overs in the swealtering heat and then taking the field in the first ball of the South African Innings, add that full length dive in the first ODI to save a boundary and thus save the game, Sachin Tendulkar is single handedly proving that age is just a number. There might have been comparisons earlier...with Lara, Ponting, Richards, Bradman. All that stops now. Being Sachin Tendulkar means the following

1. Lose the chance to live a normal life
2. Bear the expectations of 1 Billion people every time you walk out to bat and they expect nothing less than a century from you....every time
3. Singlehandedly reclaim people's faith in the game after its darkest hour of match fixing. (The bookies would accept bets on Indian matches only after Sachin got out)
4. Put a smile on the face of the nation after the grievious terrorist attack in Mumabi (by leading the run chase with a century in the 4th innings against England.)
5. Remain untouched by any scandal whatsoever to such an extent that he was compared to Mahatma Gandhi.
6. Maintain the boyish enthusiasm and the love for the game after all these years (Even Lara took a break from Cricket to re focus)

When someone does all these for a span of 20 years and performs as Sachin has done, Then and Then only will one be eligible to be compared to Sachin Tendulkar. Throughout the time Sachin has played cricket, he has been the embodiment of what Aamir Khan preaches in his movie 3 Idiots.

"Success ke peeche mat bhaago...Excellence ke peeche bhaago, Success chak maarke tumhaare peeche aayegi"

The Joy of Travelling

There are two kinds of people in this world. One who like to grow roots and stay put in one place. They are happy with where they are and they like the comfort of familiarity. In free time they would rather enjoy some quiet time at home rather than venture out. The second kind are the ones bitten by Wanderlust. Their aim in life is to see everything. Given a couple of free days, they would pack their bags and head to explore the world. I have been finding out more and more each day that I belong to the second category.

The joy of travelling is a heady one. Earlier, during my student life, travel was kind of a necessary evil. I would have avoided it if I could but sadly I couldn't. I have had some horror stories of travel from those days. Once during my engineering days, I had to travel a 6 hour journey home literally standing on one leg, as I didnt have enough room to put my other leg down and I was getting poked in the back by a huge carton all the time. I didnt have enough space to move to a more comfortable position. Think a can of sardines and you will have a rough idea of what it was like. Another time, I travelled from Kanpur to Delhi sitting on the train doorway and one fine gentleman kept spitting his pan out of the window. No amount of reasoning could get him to stop doing that. While these experiences were tough to swallow at the time of happening, later I realised that whatever happens on a journey, they nevertheless make excellent stories. Like someone has said, "Adventure is discomfort recollected in comfort".

The first major travel I undertook voluntarily was after my summer internships during my MBA life. I had around a week left before the next semester was due to begin and I decided to spend that travelling. The sole purpose of this travel was to meet my geographically spread friends. First from Cochin to Chennai. Land in Chennai early morning, start from Chennai late night. From Chennai to Bangalore. Couple of days in Bangalore catching up with old friends. From Bangalore to Pune. Spending some time with my brother at AFMC. Then from Pune to Mumbai and Mumbai to Kanpur.

Once I got employed and became able to bear the cost of my own travels, I have taken all the opportunities that came my way to see the world. I have a group of friends equally bitten with the wanderlust. We plan and conduct tours at regular intervals. St.Mary's Island Mangalore, Bekal Fort, Tada Falls, Pulicat Lake, Nelliyampathy, Ottapalam, Wayanad, the list goes on. When I cannot find any company and I have some spare time, I travel alone. I once travelled 19 hours (up and down) to spend about 5 hours at a village that used to be a Dutch Outpost called Tharangambadi. Check out the archives of this blog for details on that trip. I also joined Chennai Trekking Club to avail of opportunities to explore the world around me. With CTC, I have been to Nagala, Talakona, Yelagiri, Kalrayan Hills and most recently Ooty.

Till now my travels have been limited to 2-3 days at a maximum. Now I am planning to take it to the next level. I am all set for a 2 week trip of Rajasthan and Jammu & Kashmir. If everything goes right, I will be flying out of Chennai on March 26th and will be back on April 12th. In this time I would be covering Jodhpur, Jaisalmer, Jaipur, Amritsar, Jammu, Srinagar and Delhi. Tickets are booked, Accomodation arranged and leaves have been approved. Another month to go before I set off on this trip. The current plan is to make a travelogue out of this trip. If my laziness does not hold me back from writing it down, you can bet you will read all about it right here. So till then I leave you with the famous lines from Robert Frost

"And Miles to before I sleep, and Miles to before I sleep"

So I love Comics. What's so bad?

I am an ardent fan of comics. This includes titles from DC and Marvel Comics. Superman, Batman, Flash, Green Lantern, Captain America, Hulk, X-Men and so on. I have a huge collection of the soft copies (at last count I had around 140GB worth of it) of these comics. The problem is that whenever I tell someone that I like such type of comics and start talking about my collection, they look at me as if a third eye just opened up on my forehead. And then comes the oh-he's-still-just-a-kid smile. Really,what's so bad about liking comics?

Most people think that these are meant for kids. I respectfully disagree. Actually with some of the storylines in these days' comics, you would want to keep them out of children's hands. For e.g, In Identity Crisis, Dr.Light rapes Sue Dibny when she finds her along on the Justice League Sattelite. Comics are meant for children? Yeah..Right.

My attraction towards comics has different dimensions. Firstly, it is about what the character portrays. Superman is not just faster than a speeding bullet and more powerful than a locomotive. Superman is a character with such depth that we seldom think that much. I'll give you a taste. Those who read comics or atleast know about Superheroes know that all the Superheroes have a secret identity. Batman is actually Bruce Wayne, Spiderman is actually Peter Parker and so forth. They put on their costumes to become the superhero. In the case of Superman, he came to earth from a doomed planet Krypton. Earth's yellow sun gave him superpowers. He is actually Superman. He puts on a costume to become is alter ego Clark Kent. Clark is a mild mannered reporter. So, Clark Kent is how Superman sees the human race. Clutsy, Stumbling and a bit dumb. That's just one part. There is much more to the Superman mythos if you think about it.

Similarily Batman- the only superhero with no super powers, Spiderman - With great power comes great responsibility, Green Lantern - The power of emotions - Will, Hope, Fear, Love, Rage, Avarice and Compassion, X-Men : Another take on Racism. All these characters have such depth that you cannot help marvel at the brains that thought them up.

Secondly, Comics to me is an escape from the daily dreary routine life. For a few minutes I get transported to a world where arch rivals Hal Jordan and Sinestro are teaming up to fight Nekron who is bringing the dead back to life as his slaves. For those few minutes, I forget all my worries and fly with them. This serves as a stress buster for me. A safety valve for all the pent up tension of the day.

Thirdly, I admit, it fills the child in me with wide eyed wonder. The wander lust in me is sated to some extent by seeing new worlds ,albeit fictional and in a digital media and leaves me in awe of the great comic writers like Grant Morisson and Alan Moore. They created worlds out of nothing. The sheer creativity and attention to detail boggles the mind.

So I like Comics. Before you criticise, try it out yourself. I have some great graphic novels in mind for you. If you ever want to know about the magic of a great comic, you know where to find me.

Photography and Me

It's been about 2 years since I have taken up Photography as a serious hobby. Unlike most of my hobbies, where after some time I lose interest and move on to something else, Photography has kept me engrossed in it. Maybe it's because there is so much to learn in this field. Every day you come across some new technique or a different perspective of an oft seen subject. The wonders of photography never ceases to amaze. I still remember the first camera I held. It was a Konica. My mother was the one who first instructed me on how to take a photo. It went something like "Look into this hole. You will see 2 square brackets. That should be in the centre of the photo and then click this button". I just loved the noises the camera produced. First the click of the shutter, then the motor whirring to turn the film to the next unexposed frame. As we were kids, me and my brother were not usually allowed to take pictures using this camera. It was a real treat when on a trip my parents would give me the camera and say "Take a picture.". Before I grew up enough to handle this camera, it stopped working. If I remember right, it had some problem with the shutter. Noone at our home cared about Photography enough to go through the pains of getting this repaired.

My second camera came as a gift to me from a family friend. I was asked what I wanted when I passed my 10th with Distinction. I don't know what prompted me, but I told him I wanted a camera. He gifted me with a Fuji compact. Unlike the more expensive Konica, this was almost fully manual. One had to load the film manually( meaning hook the end of the film to the chamber and rotate it till the first frame was loaded. After each shot, the frames had to be moved manually. But still, I didn't mind. The only thing that stopped me from going around and taking pics was the prohibitive cost of developing the film and taking prints. Developing and printing a full roll cost around Rs.300. So this camera came out only on special occassions like School Excursions or camps. Once I had gone on a camp conducted by Rotary Club Alwaye. As usual, I carried my camera along with me and took around 35 pics (1 roll of film). Then it happened that one the way back, my camera fell down and the back flap opened. The film got exposed to sunlight and all the pics were lost. There was nothing I could do. The camera itself didn't suffer any damage. This camera lasted till my engineering days. But as time went by, it was relegated to one corner of the cupboard as Rs.300 for an engineering student was not a small amount.

My third camera, which was my first Digital Camera was also a Fuji. Fuji Finepix a 210 if my memory serves me right. I had written CAT and was in the process of attending the interviews. I had to travel all over India for these interviews and I convinced my dad to buy me a digital camera. Digital Cameras were just coming into the market at that time. It was a 2 Megapixels, 3X Optical zoom camera. This served me well throughout my MBA. Photos that appeared in the IITK MBA placement CD and IITK MBA placement brochure of 2006 were captured using my camera. Till then, photography to me was more of documentation than an art. I'll tell you the difference. Suppose you go to see a waterfall. You and your friends pose in front of the waterfall and get a pic clicked. This proves that you were there at the waterfall. This is a piece of documentation. These are the kind of photos that you usually see in Newspapers. Suppose you take few pics of the same waterfall. Noone is posing in front of the waterfall. You increase the shutter speed of your camera to give a smooth effect to the flowing water. This is photography as an art. I was under the impression that photography as an art is the domain of experienced photographers only. The ones with big cameras, long lenses and an external flash. As I have written before, this was around the time I came across a photoblog maintained by one of my friends. On enquiring with her, I came to know that her camera was just another point and shoot. This brought about a paradigm shift in my view on photography. That was when I decided to try my hand at taking some pics. But I needed a better camera.

My fourth camera, which is my current camera is an Olympus SP 501 UZ. 7.1 Megapixels, 10X Optical zoom. This is the first camera that I have bought using my own hard earned money. Buying this camera was the beginning of my current phase of being a Photography enthusiast. After I bought this camera, I started reading up on photography, starting right from the basics. What is aperture, what is shutter speed, what is depth of field in a picture, so on and so forth. The more I read, the more I saw, the more enthralled I got. I have been working with this camera for the past 2 years. Now I have started getting a feeling that the limiting factor in my pursuit of excellence in the field of photography is my camera. I believe it's time to change this and step into the field where big boys play by buying a DSLR.

One major change that pursuing photography brings in you is that you start to notice the beauty in the smallest of things. Where earlier you never gave a thought to the waterdroplets on your window pane, now you start to think whether it would make a good subject for a Macro Photograph. Where earlier, you didn't even notice when a butterfly fluttered past you, now you observe what species it is and whether it would sit still enough to take a picture. That is the beauty of being a photographer.

Moral Policing

"God created man in his own image. In God's image he created him; male and female he created them." Genesis verse 26

"God blessed them. God said to them, "Be fruitful, multiply, fill the earth, and subdue it. Have dominion over the fish of the sea, over the birds of the sky, and over every living thing that moves on the earth." Genesis verse 27

This is how Bible says god made man. At the beginning god didn't put forth much laws of do and don't. Then came the Ten commandments. Ten "Thy Shall nots" which man was supposed to live by. Then once the civilization set in, more laws came. The gray areas were fast being separated into black or white. In the modern society, there is a system of laws in the country which needs to be followed by the citizens. How applicable those laws are and to whom is an entirely different discussion which I do not wish to delve into at this time.

So In India, we have a set of written laws and we have a police department who sees to it that the laws are enforced and any breaking of the laws are appropriately handled. Till then it was alright. In these recent times, there has been a peculiar kind of homo sapiens who deem themselves the protectors of moral laws. They are self appointed and they work on an unwritten code which basically says anything they don't like is immoral. It can be the violence against people celebrating Valentine's Day or the attack against girls in a pub or in the most recent event, slapping an MLA who was taking his oath in Hindi.

These are a set of people who are hell bent on telling us how to live our lives. For them celebrating Valentines Day is westernization. Wearing western clothes is against Indian culture. What Indian Culture are we talking about here? India is the land of Kamasutra and Khajuraho. In the land which taught the world secrets of sex, talking openly about sex is against its culture. While it's ok to depict various sex positions in a temple, an actress wearing a short skirt is against the moral code. Do you see a disconnect here?

From the moral to the regional. The self appointed defender of Marathi Rights Mr.Raj Thackerey and his company of goons who calls themselves the MNS stopped a politician from taking his oath in Hindi in the Maharasthra assembly. Who the politician was and what his background is is not relevant to the discussion here. The constitution clearly states that any politician may take his oath in Hindi, English or the regional language. Last time I checked, Maharashtra was still a part of India and Indian constitution still applies there. Then what law gives these goons the power to stop a constitutional act? The latest news is that 4 MLAs who manhandled the said politician have been suspended for 4 years from the assembly. While I appreciate the quick action taken, the question remains as to how could you let such an incident take place in a meeting of so called "representatives of the public". Whether criminal charges would be filed against them and if any action would be taken on that front remains to be seen.

So look how we have progressed. In the garden of Eden, there was just one rule. Don't eat the forbidden fruit. Now we have laws spanning every human activity. Over that we have people telling us how to live our lives. We have the Moral police, Fashion Police and Censor Police over and above our regular police. If we don't nip this in the bud, it won't be long before we wouldn't have a choice but to live our lives as others dictate it.

Chennai in the rains

When I came to Chennai around three and a half years back, I was not very fond of this place. The weather was too hot to handle, the autodrivers were daylight robbers and the roads were almost always congested. But over the time, I have made peace with most of the irritating aspects of Chennai. I came to understand that life in Chennai makes you appreciate the little things about life outside Chennai that you used to take for granted. Like the weather in Kerala or the disciplined auto drivers in Bangalore.

One thing though that I cannot come to terms with is Chennai during the rains. I am a big admirer of rains. During monsoons when I used to be in Kerala, I would sit in the verandah just watching it rain. The pitter patter of the raindrops was music to my ears and the cold rainy breeze would freshen me up from the inside out. Then I came to Chennai and encountered the Chennai rains. This city has a very low water threshold. All it takes is a brief drizzle and the roadsides are already flooded. If that drizzle turns into a downpour, rest assured that you will have to wade through knee deep water. Knowing the condition of the city's drains, and wading through the knee deep water is a self inflicted torture that you cannot do without.

I have a friend who loves rain but hates walking in the rain. The main reason for that is the feeling of mud beneath her feet in her footwear. I can definitely understand what she feels. For me it is the feeling of the squishy shoes that I hate. In that context, I love my new Merrel shoes. I got this for trekking purposes. It is made up of webbed material. The water drains right out once you are out of the puddle. No more squishy shoes.

Last year, Chennai witnessed one of the heaviest monsoons for quite some time. This was the same time when terrorists hit Mumbai. If man made terror was flooding Mumbai, Natural terror was flooding Chennai. It had been raining for 4 days non stop and I had decided to work from home as you had to either know swimming or own a boat to reach office. And I had neither. On the 5th evening of this non stop downpour, I was watching a movie with my feet propped up on the table when my phone rang. It was the next door neighbour. He asked me where I was. When I told him I was at home itself, he asked me how come I didn't know that water had entered my house. I stood up in shock to see my house flooded with ankle deep water. In the next 15 min, I stowed off my bedding and important documents out of reach of the water and I put my PC's CPU on top of my couch. I packed some essential items and left the flooded house to seek abode at a friend's house.

The next day I came back to check out the situation at my house. I was dumbstruck to see that the water in my sitting room was up to my knees and the CPU which I had put on my couch was waterlogged. There was nothing much I could do so I just locked up and left.

It took another 3 days before the situation returned to near normalcy. So now each time it rains more heavily than usual, I start preparing for the worst and keep watching my door sil to see if water has started flowing in.

Tail Piece: A week after this disaster, a team of sales folks from HCL landed in Chennai as part of a training program. One of their requests was that they wanted to go to the beach to see the Sea. I had to bite my tongue real hard to keep myself from replying "The Sea had come to meet you. You are about a week late"

Belief

For those who are not aware, there is an ODI series going on between Australia and India. Yesterday they played the 5th match in a series of 7. Australia went ahead to score 350 runs in the allotted 50 overs. I was with a friend before the Indian chase began and I was going on about how if we got a good start, this total could be chased. His reply to me was " You are talking like a typical Indian Cricket Fan. You should know a lost cause when you see one. We have already lost this match".

I can tell you upfront. I am not a big optimist. But I have written earlier about supporting the underdogs. In this case, India was firmly the underdog. But more than that I believed in one man. I believed in Sachin. He has this habit of seeing victory when others see only defeat. In 1998 during the Coca Cola cup in Sharjah, when India was faced with a target of 285 and needed around 254 to qualify, most of the country would have believed that we wouldn't win the match but atleast we can qualify. But one man believed that the match could be won and his now famous "Desert Storm" knock of 143 almost did the job. Yesterday when everyone else seemed overawed by the size of the target, one man went about doing what he does best....hitting a cricket ball hard.

When Sachin bats like he did yesterday, he makes believers out of us. As a famous banner read "Do all your crimes when Sachin is batting. Coz even the god would be busy watching him". As long as he was at the crease, no target seemed too big and it seemed the first double century in ODIs seemed near. But he fell at 175 needing 19 more to win. The others were good enough only to make 15 out of it. But I can vouch that noone who saw Sachin bat yesterday would have said that we were going to lose the match. The kind of surety in his strokeplay, the sheer domination of the bowling...who the hell said Sachin needs to retire?

Yesterday when Sachin was on the verge of 17000 runs, Sunil Gavaskar made a comment. He said that the crowd is celebrating his 17000 so hard because seeing them makes them feel that each of his runs are theirs. Thats what sets this man apart. You want to end all the communal issues in India in one stroke? Declare cricket as a relegion. Nothing...i repeat Nothing unites India like cricket and nothing personifies cricket better than Sachin.

As the saying goes, "If Cricket is a relegion, then Sachin is God".

Back on Popular demand...

It's been 6 months since I have ventured into this part of the blogosphere. I started a malayalam photoblog in the meantime. If you understand Malayalam or just want to check out how good I am with a camera in my hands, visit www.nimishaardham.blogspot.com. "Nimishaardham" in malayalam means splitsecond.

So I was focusing on this blog and this combined with the fact that I was going through a bit of a writer's block resulted in this blog being dormant.

However, I am now back (don't know how long it's gonna last..but still). This is due to 2 reasons.

Firstly, one of my regular readers asked me yesterday why I don't write anymore. Secondly I got a topic on which to write a post.

So friends, romans and countrymen, I am back. Let's see how long this stint lasts.

The art of writing Assignments - Part 2

MBA course work is all about groups and relative grading...You prosper or perish in groups. This group work opens people to a whole new world of free riding. "Free Riding" being an abstract concept is executed by different people in different ways. Before I get into that, let me tell you what is meant by Free Riding. Free Riders are those people who would tag along for the ride but would hardly move a finger to do anything. But as the group is graded as a whole, they get the same grades.

Now let's see the different approaches to Free Riding.

First there is the "I am not a Free Rider" approach.

These sort of people work very hard to look as if they are working. They will run around...shuffle papers...talk about timelines and appear worried. But they hardly do any work. They are really offended if someone hints about free riding.

Second category is the "I don't give a damn about grades" free rider.

These guys make their intent clear at the beginning of the assignment. Their usual statement goes something like this. "Dude....I don't care about grades.....I am not going to do a single thing on this assignment....if you guys are worried about grades, you go ahead and do the work". Their honesty is hard to deal with. As you are stuck with them in the group, all you can do is do the assignment and watch as they get whatever grades they get for free.

The first category of free riders are very deceptive. To an unattentive eye, it seems as if they are doing the whole assignment by themselves. It has often happened that 4 free riders of the first sort formed a group. Each one was left thinking that others are working hard and finally the assignment never got done. So it is in their advantage to seek out tried and tested Non-Free riders and form a group with them.

The second category is a necessary evil. They are often tolerated because they are good friends and atleast they were honest (brutally so..) about their free riding.

Although from individual work, the focus shifts to group work, the basic premises of assignment writing does not change. Here also there are Do-Gooders (DG), Do-No-Harmers (DNH) and We Don't Cares(WDC). The second category of Free riders come under the WDC category.

As MBA is a higher degree than B.Tech, the execution of assignments become even more last minute. Night outs become the norm and discussions are often called to start the midnight before the submission day. If it wasn't for the DGs in every group, the assignments would have never been submitted on time. I have had experiences where there were three of us in a group. All three were DNHs and we rarely submitted an assignment on time.

Whether it be B.Tech or MBA, if it is group work, the DGs are the driving force behind the group. They are the ones who crack the whip and sets the ball rolling. DNHs pull their own weight and go along with the flow without hindering it. The WDCs are the ones who act as the deadweight which arrests the group's momentum. If it was not for their contribution (or the lack of it..), assignments would have been submitted days before the deadline. (Oh the sheer horror....I can't even think of it..). Working in groups prepare you for the proffessional world...or so they claim...and it is the healthy mix of DGs, DNHs and WDCs in a class that makes working in groups worth it. You get to make deals, negotiate and sometimes even threaten people...what better to prepare you for the cutthroat corporate world?

The Art of Writing Assignments- Part 1

Assignment- The Merriam Webster dictionary defines it as "a specified task or amount of work assigned or undertaken as if assigned by authority".

In school days, we used to call it homework...take down a few problems dictated by the teacher with a cute "H.W" written on the corner of that page...These were meant to be completed during that day's study time...and it was almost always diligently done so.

Then we grew up..we went to college and we needed a new name for homework, as calling it by its old name made it look childish...thus we entered the era of "Assignments".

Anyone who has an Engineering degree knows how these assignments are tackled during the course of the semester.(Warning: The views below are written solely from the viewpoint of a boy and might not be always applicable to girls).

Before I get into the theory of tackling assignments, let me tell you about the demographics of any Engineering class..

Firstly, there is one category of people whom I'd like to call the Do-Gooders (DG)...these are the students who almost always take up the first two rows of the class (though there are exceptions....I'll come to that later). Their note taking capability is beyond belief....Even the forced jokes that the lecturers make to wake up the rest of the class, might find its way to their notebooks. They often get ridiculed for this fact, but all that is till the exam time draws near...once the exams are at your doorstep, these Do-Gooders obtain the status of the Hollywood superstars....Their notes which were ridiculed before are so much in demand that the photo copies of the photo copies of the notes are being photo copied.....Even during all this demand, these DGs never try to get even for the ridicule....they selflessly offer the notes and never do they utter a word to the tune of "You should have thought this before...."

98% of the Do-Gooders are Girls.

Next category is what I'd like to call Do-No-Harmers (DNH)...these are the people who populate the middle to back rows of the class and they are not as meticulous in taking notes as the DGs. DNHs take notes of the points that they feel are important and can be often found sleeping in classes which bore them to the hilt...When the exam time comes, they are most of the times happy with their own notes and do not bother others.

DNH population is often split 80-20 with 80% being boys...

The last category is called We-don't-cares(WDC). This category is almost always completely made up of boys and these guys rarely populate the class (coz they prefer populating the canteen or the juice shop instead). These are the guys who create the huge demand for the DG's notes.

So now, let's see how the assignment is tackled by various groups..

DGs find it difficult to sleep unless they complete the assignment on the day it has been given. Even if there is a week before the submission date, DGs would like to finish it off as soon as possible.

DNHs find it really difficult even to think about the assignments before the due date. Then on the day before the due date, they borrow a few DG's assignments and engage in honing their CP (copy-paste)skills....The CP technology is perfected by the DNHs to such an extent that no proffessor ever accused a DNH of copying an assignment....the original matter of a DNH's assignment would be spread across maybe half a dozen DG assignments....

WDCs rarely submit an assignment on time....if they do, rest assured that it was written for them by a DG friend....(Some DGs are always in a crusade to convert WDCs to DNHs....I've seen them succeed and I've seen them fail.....Oh the good old times)...

Let's move on....from the individual submissions in Engineering college to the group work in MBA...

The shore of Singing Waves....

[This Blog was in Deep Freeze for quite some time: This trip was undertaken on 25th of Jan. ]

It was a long weekend....the originally planned Wagamon trip didn't seem to materialize...I had to do something to prevent the weekend going to an utter waste. Then out comes Ergo (a newspaper(?) supplied for free at major companies) with a list of little known places for a weekend getaway near Chennai...One of the places which caught my eye was Tranquebar...a Danish outpost in the 1700s....which the article said was on the way to Chidambaram....the only place to stay was the Bungalow on the Beach whose standard room rate was 3500 + 12.5% tax. The cheaper hotel Tamil Nadu was booked fully till Feb 28th. Since I didnt want to wait till then and I couldnt even think of paying almost 4000 bucks (If I had that much to spend, I'd have put in 1500 more and bought the complete calvin and hobbes collection...)for a night's stay...I decided to make it a one day trip. The plan was as follows

Sunday the 25th of January, 2008

0000 hrs: Reach Koyambedu Bus Stand
0005 hrs: Get on a bus to Chidambaram
0600 hrs: Reach Tharangambadi and catch the sunrise on the lovely shore
1000 hrs: Enter the Fort Dansborg museum and roam around
1300 hrs: Get out of the musesum, proceed with photography
1700 hrs: Think about returning and try to get a bus to Chennai
2300 hrs: Reach Chennai...reminisce about what a fantastic trip it was...

Now let's get to what really happened...

I reached Koyambedu Bus Stand on time...I went to the platform reserved for Buses plying to Chidambaram and I find it empty....I enquire about the next bus to Chidambaram to a shopkeeper and he replies that it would be here in 30 min. Although initially miffed, I overcame it...plugged my ears with the ipod headphones and lost myself in the world of Kishore Kumar...30 minutes turned into 90 minutes when finally a bus with the Chidambaram board came (It's not as if I could read it....my understanding Tamil script is like pattern matching....so I should say a bus with a board that looked like it said Chidambaram came). It had hardly stopped and it already had people hanging off the windows and footboards. That finally did it for my patience. Out came my Nokia E71 with Google Maps...I navigated my way to my destination and to my utter horror, I found that it was not anywhere near the way to chidambaram...it was on the way to Karaikal from Chidambaram. After showering some choiciest of abuses on the "informative" Ergo, I got on the next bus to Pondycherry. As my good friend Ashok had done his Engg. from Karaikal, I had a vague idea as to how to get there. I got on the bus and slept off...or tried to sleep with my butt killing me because of the quality of the bus seat.

I reached Pondycherry at around 6.15. The next Karaikal Bus was not much behind. I got on the bus at around 6.30. The bus might have had a problem in the transmission or the bus driver wanted the passengers to reeeally enjoy the journey.....the bus never went above the second gear speed....I was half the through the second intolerable Sathyaraj starrer shown in the bus before I reached Tharangambadi...or Tranquebar...and the time was 10:30....I was running around 4 hours later than planned....

The first recognizable sight that I saw in Tranquebar was the King's Gate. It was built in 1792 and it stands at the beginning of the King's Street which takes you to the beach..

Once you enter through this gate, it's like you have stepped into a time capsule. The churches and buildings on both sides of the road are straight out of sepia tinted photographs. A straight walk on that road would take you to the Tharangambadi beach. On the left side of the beach there is a temple. It's dome was knocked down by the Tsunami that hit the west coast but now the repairs are done and it is a riveting sight. The temple has sea on 2 of its sides.

Another landmark in front of the beach is the Fort Dansborg. It is a Danish Fort and the architecture is very different from the Indian Forts. If you are familiar with Age of Empires 2, you might find this fort similar to the castles of Teutons.

This majestic sight alone was enough to make my trip worth it...I spent quite some time walking around the fort grounds and exploring the museum in the first floor.

I was really tired by then...I had a quick lunch of chocolates and Kurkure sitting in the shade of the temple...and dozed of there itself for sometimes. The sound of the singing waves lulled me to sleep. Once the fierce noon sun had subsided, I took a walk along the beach....This was one of those beaches where someone who collects shells would go crazy....there were new kind of shells at each step....I collected some that caught my fancy...Before thinking about going back, I had to visit the churches in the neighbourhood. There are two...and behind those churches are some graves from the time Danes ruled here.....One of the graves was of a 3 month old baby boy.

After a brief tour of the churches, it was time for me to think about my return journey. From Tharangambadi to Karaikal...karaikal to Pondycherry..Pondy to Chennai....I reached back by around 1:30 at night....I had spent 19 hours travelling to spend about 6 hours in the shore of singing waves....But I know one thing...If I had to go through it all over again, I wouldn't hesitate for a second....

Insanity

It's been quite some time since I blogged about something. Initially I thought about blogging about the mumbai attack....but then everyone under the sun was talking about the same thing....not that it didn't deserver such importance...But still, I didn't want to be another voice in the crowd. While majority focuses on the terrorists, our lovely neighbouring country and the politics of all this, let me take some time to remind you of the 300+ lives that were lost. My latest poem is one of the darkest ones that I have ever written....once my friend said that however dark your poems begin, there is always a ray of light in the end....I tried for something like that here too....but for me atleast, there isn't one...So here goes...dedicated to all lives lost in Mumbai

The sky goes black
Sun spewing flames of darkness
The lights go out on the world
And the universe is a mess
Life starts colouring outside the lines
And when the colours run out, blood starts flowing from the eyes
Life, being painfully ignorant, colours on
With the whole picture now blood red tone
Only questions remain in life
All answers seem to have given up the fight
Question upon questions bury you deep
And doubts are the only company you keep
Fear, with its tendrils infinite
Grips the world and the souls in it
Was that a bullet? Was that a scream?
Or was it a remnant of a terrible unholy dream?
Death in its lovely pale dress
Waits with its alluring smile and open arms
One by one she takes lovers into her embrace
Where they lose their souls and the world forgets their face
Bodies become numbers and numbers cease to matter
And false, hollow promises doesn’t make it any better
Cries from the grave fall on deaf ears
Righteous anger fails to hold back the tears
Blood demand Blood, Blood demands justice
But where water is costlier than blood,
The red fluid loses its sheen
Patience runs out, Frustration kicks in
Unbridled horses with no direction
Running everywhere, going nowhere
The road ahead is unclear
Unsure destination, hesitant travelers
Where time will take them, noone can tell
When insanity lords and logic is dead,
Be prepared to find strange partners in your bed.

The joy of an underdog win...

Whenever I watch sports, as long as India as a team is not involved, I tend to side with the underdogs...Maybe it's because it is a win-win situation..if they lose, it's because they were the underdogs anyway...and if they win...well that's great too....or maybe there is a mysterious romance of an unfancied side taking on much more established opponents and winning....

Right from the time David fell Goliath with his slingshot, the joy of an underdog win has been something else...It has the story of hope...it has the charm of the fight against the odds...it has that few moments of disbelief when they finally pull it off....it just makes my day...

So when I rooted for Greece in the 2004 Euro cup finals or when I was step in step with the most unfancied team of the IPL to their pinnacle of glory or when I desperately wanted Lewis Hamilton to win the F1 Championship on his debut, I was siding with the underdog....

Same was the case why I chanted "Rafa..Rafa..." when Rafael Nadal took on Roger Federer in the finals of the greatest grass court tournament in the history of Tennis. Before this final, the turf division was clear...Nadal rules the clay and Federer reigns over all that is grass....if the World No.2 has to go in to a final as an underdog, it just has to be Roger Federer across the net....They met 2 times before in the same situation and Roger's crown was not disturbed...But this time, there was an impending feeling....that something has changed....

So when Federer, who hadn't dropped a set on grass since the last Wimbledon final, dropped the first 2 sets, that impending feeling was getting an aura of certainty....then again the story twists....showing why he is World No.1, he wins the next 2 sets....even the rain gods dropped in from time to time to check the score....But at the end of the heart stopping 5th set..it was the underdog who took a bite out of the World No.1's aura of invincibility...

This might be the beginning of an exciting new era in Men's Tennis....where the World No.1 status switches hands quite often....each of them biting on other's heels constantly....the status of the underdog being traded from tournament to tournament.....Well, interesting times lay ahead....and as always, I'm with the underdog...

IPL - My picks so far...

All of India is dancing to the tune of IPL. I ensure that I reach home from office by 7.45 PM so that I won't miss the beginning of the match and I don't have to sit through the insufferable Extra Innings....(How I wish Mandira Bedi still was a part of it....). But the matches have been amazing...Shane Warne carting Andrew Symonds for 16 in 3 balls to win the match in the last over...The return of that 1000 watt smile to L.Balaji's face after his Hat trick.....Badrinath ekeing out the last ball win for Chennai to end its streak of 3 loses....It has been a real treat....So here's my list of the best and the worst of IPL....

Batsman of the Tournament: Ok, so Gautam Gambhir is the top scorer in the tournament as of now...but my pick for the Batsman of the tournament is Sean Marsh. This guy has 295 runs to his credit and just from 5 matches. See him batting along with Yuvraj Singh and try if you can make out who just played that flick off his hips for six.

Bowler of the Tournament: Again...Irfan Pathan, Sreshant and Zaheer Khan has 13 wickets in their kitty, making them the leading wicket takers....but my pick for Bowler of the tournament goes to Glen 'Pidge' McGrath. If he hadn't retired, he still could lead the Aussie pace pack....Even the bowling machine may err in line and length...but don't ever expect that from Pidge. This fact is further proven by his economy rate 5.71. In a 20-20 tournament where 8 runs per over is supposed to be really good, Pidge shows why is a class apart from the rest of them.

Fielder of the Tournament: Virat Kohli has been outstanding in the field for RCB and so has been Sean Marsh for KXP. But my fielder of the award goes to Ashish Nehra....for his full length dive and stop at long on in the match against Rajasthan Royals.

Captain of the Tournament: Well...no doubts here...take a team of rank youngsters...mix them with a couple of International stars....add a pinch of Midas touch...and shake well...you get the IPL's cheapest team but leading the board both in terms of wins and fair play. The man who made this possible goes by the name of Shane Keith Warne....the best captain Australia never had...Seeing his magical hand at work with the Rajasthan Royals, many an Australian might have wondered...If only his other 'head' didn't call the shots from time to time......

Non show of the Tournament: Pick a 20- 2o match....any 20-20 match...now think of a team with Andrew Symonds, Adam Gilchrist, Hershelle Gibbs and Shahid Afridi. It would take a really brave man to bet against them...but it seems sometimes the whole is way lesser than the sum of the parts....if even 2 of the had fired consistently, there would have been no stopping the Deccan Chargers...but instead, they went from bad to worse....but one silver lining in this dark grey cloud has been the batting of Rohit Sharma...man he bats like a dream....The questions to who at No.4 when Sachin retires seems to be getting an answer at last....

Ball of the Tournament: There have been many outstanding deliveries in these matches...but the title goes to the twin of the "Ball of the century" also known as the magic ball...Shane Warne to Dhoni...pitched outside leg...turning viciously...taking the outside edge on the way to hands of First Slip....Gatting might have had something like a De ja Vu seeing that ball...

Best Package of the tournament: When teams could not get over the obsession with Kings and Royality, SRK's Kolkatta Knight Riders showed us how to do it...and in style....with arguably the best uniform in IPL and without doubt the most innovative name, their packaging rocks...Their anthem/theme song..Karbo Larbo Jeetbo re is an instant classic. Once you hear it you keep humming it...contrast it with the Royal Challengers' song..Jeetenge Hum Shaan se....Other than the once in a life time sight of Vijay Mallya with no female accompanying him, it does nothing for you.So in terms of packaging, as the song goes...aami Kolkatta....We rule....

So my dear readers...that's all from my keyboard right now....maybe if IPL throws up something extraordinary in its second half or if I feel like it, I'll be back with more IPL buzz...till then..Peace out.

Thanks Sachin...

Like any average Indian, I started following cricket as soon as I could hold a plastic bat in my hands. At that time the legends were Sunil Gavaskar and Kapil Dev. I used to hate Ravi Shastri for his slow batting and then I was witness to the birth of a phenomenon. The first thing I remember about this baby faced teenager called Sachin Ramesh Tendulkar is how he danced down the track repeatedly and hit Abdul Qadir for 4 sixes in an over. Sunil Gavaskar was no longer my favourite batsman after that knock. That crown was awarded to this little genius. I grew up watching Sachin play...and play as only he could. As time went by it was getting clearer and clearer that this was no one hit wonder. This was a class act and he was here to stay.

He is often considered the next best batsman after Don Bradman. I wouldn't argue there. But I seriously doubt if any other batsman in the history of this game called Cricket has had a heavier weight of expectations on his shoulders. 1 Billion people hoping for a century every time he adjusts his crotch guard and takes strike....We even had a phase before the emergence of Ganguly and Dravid where the Indian Cricke Team rose and fell with Sachin Tendulkar. With his failure meaning the failure of the whole team, look how he has delivered....Just for that I would say that he is the best batsman ever.

Sachin was there when Ganguly and Dravid started playing ODIs. He is there even now when the senior-junior debate led to the axing of these two. When it was touted that the Juniors were going to rock Australia in the one dayers, finally it was Sachin who showed that age was not a criteria as long as one could perform.

He has been paid many complements by people all around the world. But I guess the best reference of his ability to single handedly win matches came from the bookies. According to them, as long as Sachin was at the crease, all bets were off. The betting would begin only once he got out.

Before we close, an excerpt from today's Cricinfo. "The silence when Micheal Hussey under-edged one from Dhawal Kulkarni was all-pervasive and it suggested that IPL fans are quickly becoming one-eyed, like every good home crowd should be. The sole exception was when Sachin Tendulkar was spotted on TV, talking to the commentators. God, after all, transcends parochial boundaries."

In India, where Cricket is a relegion more unifying than any other around, the highest seat on the pantheon of gods belong to one man and one man only: Sachin Ramesh Tendulkar. Thanks Sachin....for all those memories....

The Letdown that is IPL

The whole cricketing world is going Bonkers at the mention of the Indian Premier League. Supposed to be the next biggest thing to happen to the cricketing world since Kerry Packer, I have to say it has been a letdown for me. It's not the matches....it's the packaging that sucks. Take a few guys from the Sony soaps and put them in the anchor's seat. Their lines seem very forced and the kind of spontaneity that you see from someone like Harsh Bhogle is zilch...non existant..they go according to the rehearsed lines and still make a royal mess out of it. The commentary team sucks big time...ICL had a great commentary team..Even with little known faces on the field, listening to the commentary made it worthwhile....here even though the superstars and the international players are lighting up the scene, we hear Arun Lal saying how the batsman "skied the ball in the air". That acts like a literal haddi in the kabab....spoils the taste of the whole thing.

Moving on, the camera men seem to be in a hurry to get somewhere...often they cannot wait the microsecond to determine where the ball has actually gone....Someone playing a cover drive and gets an edge. The viewers can see that the ball has gone towards mid off but the camera is in a hurry and pans towards the extra cover region. By the time they realise the mistake, the ball has been fielded and returned to the bowler. That's really low quality camera work. Not something expected in such a high profile event.

Don't even get me started on the advertisements....As soon as the batsman plays his shot on the last ball of the over, cut to commercials...if the last ball was a no ball, chances are that you miss the free hit. And in screen commercials which drown out the commentary...especially Godrej and Vodafone...I feel like tearing my hair out on occassions...then I remember how little of that I have and go back to cursing the TV Channel.

All these are the norm rather than the exceptions when you are watching a telecast on Doordarshan...but a channel like SetMax which till now used to provide us with high quality cricket telecasts...this is simply unacceptable.

Last but not the least....another complaint is that they don't give the cheerleaders enough screen time...Cut back to the 20-20 world cup when they used to focus on the cheerleaders after every boundary or six. Come on guys...the Washington Redskins, the first ladies of football were flown in exclusively to cheer for Bangalore Royal Challengers...and you don't give them enough screen time....talk of sacrilage....

Farewell

I am sure we have all come across the situation of saying farewell to a very close friend....It is a whole gamut of emotions that goes through you at that moment....You wish to say a lot of things but words are really hard to come by at that point in time....My latest poem deals with all this....So, aptly, this is titled "Farewell"

And you’re off
With a final wave and that lovely smile
Off to take on the world, take hold of your life
Leaving me further behind with every step you take
Leaving nothing but memories in your wake
I remember the first time I saw you
I was lost in the crowd and friendly faces were few
Then you came and you smiled
And we started talking like old friends meeting after a while
You’ve seen me in my happy days and held me through the sad ones
You were always by my side and did never falter once
I am what I am because of you
Because of you I was able to start anew
And then it was time for you to leave
I didn’t know whether to be happy for you or to grieve
There were a million things I wanted to tell
But all that came out was
Farewell my friend, Fare ye well
I wanted to tell you what you were to me
How our friendship was just meant to be
I wanted to thank you for being by my side
And helping me out when I was not able to decide
All these and a million more things were to be said
But I chose to hold your hand instead
‘Coz somewhere within me I know
That words hardly play a part when I talk to you
When silence speaks and the unspoken is heard,
You would know that I mean much more than my words,
When, for lack of words, I just manage to tell
Farewell my friend, Fare ye well.

Some Pics from our East Coast Road Outing...

The Strangers

This is one creation I have been thinking for some days whether to delete or not….finally I figured what the hell…I took the pains to write it...and I own a blog...So why should it go unpublished? So the thing is like this….The poem is a 2 in 1. The words in red can be replaced by the words in brackets…If you replace all the words in red with the words in brackets, you get a new poem. Here is a question…In each version of the poem, who do you think the lady is and which version would be your choice?

The sun was burning like a ball of rage
But still there as an eerie chill,
I was on the road and beginning to tire
And then I saw an inn beyond the hill
I entered through the door and had a look around
Two others sat there on the floor but making no sound
Making myself comfortable, I looked at the other two
The first one an old man, he seemed to be blind
And deaf and dumb and seemed to be losing his mind too
The other, a young woman with a pale white (heavenly) face and a killer (brilliant) smile.
To look away from her eyes, it took me a while
Getting tired of the silence, I spoke
Where do you come from and whither goest thou?
And then she spoke, voice tinkling like silver
I’m taking him to my home (the beginning), where he will be peaceful forever (able to start over)
“What happened to him” was my next question
“What robbed him off his senses?”
“He had just one dream in his life”
“And when it shattered, it robbed him off his sight”
“His ears were thirsty for words of trust and love,
But he got betrayal instead and chose to hear no more”
“He always spoke of the good in everything,
Then the best thing in his life went sour,
After that he spoke no more”
As I listened to this lady,
I could not help but feel sorry
“The place where you are taking him,
Are you sure he will be at peace?(able to start over?)
“Oh yes my friend, I assure you, Once there, everyone is at peace (It’s again a new life)”
A bit relieved, I spoke again
“Pray tell me your name oh beautiful dame”
With a smile she replied,
“You know me. I am a part of your life”.

New Year Sunrise..