It's strange how even the quintessential healer, time, cannot heal some 'ailments'. One positive example is the way you feel for someone or something that you genuinely love. Sports has been one such love for me. While in school, it was an integral part of my life. I remember playing daily, without exception - cricket, football, table tennis, carrom and a host of other not-so-famous games that we played during and after school. One such invention was what we called Terrace Tennis. A court was drawn out on our terrace and a string was tied at about 4 feet to serve as the net. A table tennis ball (the local, hard and heavy variety) was sent across it with hard-cover 6-inch copies following the same rules of lawn tennis but no shot, including serves, was allowed to be played overhead. This last stipulation put a check to the number of times we had to run downstairs to fetch a ball. Visitors, the elderly ones, used to get alarmed seeing us running on the terrace at such fervent pace. More because, half of the terrace did not have a boundary. We were allowed to choose our names and it is no surprise that I was the Agassi on that court. In fact I did a bit better than him, staying the number 1 player as long as the game was played. :)
Such an involvement was ably supplemented by an equally strong interest in the happenings in the global scene. There was not much on TV those days, but we would lap up the weekly sports roundup shows and the big events. And, even to this day, I start reading a newspaper from the last page. We would get The SportStar and I used to read every page - though the most interesting part was to collect the centre-spreads that came free. I still have them at home, more than 300 posters of myriad sportsmen and women. My joys would cross the line whenever there was a Viv Richards, Andre Agassi or Gabriela Sabatini for the taking. Sadly, somehow I missed out on all the Marco van Basten ones and do not have one of him. These four were, and still are, my sporting idols.
No wonder, then, that I do not have to look up for names like Nigel Mansell, Jan-Ove Waldner or Leroy Burrel to know what they did.
But things changed, for the worse, after school. I stopped playing any games and even the craze for the happenings in the world of sports slightly decreased. This was aided by the retirements of Viv, van Basten and Sabatini around the same time. Thankfully, Agassi stayed on to re-write an essay in agelessness. I developed special likings towards many new players, but the passion for these top-4 borders on devotion and is much greater than my liking for Brian Lara, Thierry Henry or Dennis Bergkamp.
It would be an unending saga, if I am to write extensively about my madness for sports. And though I have grown apart from it to a large extent, the thrill of watching a defining moment in any game is unrivaled. There was a time when I would know all names in the starting XI for each team in the Football World Cup or the European Cup. Now I have to look out for the few I know in each team. I did not watch a single football match in the last 2 years, since the 2006 World Cup. Yet, when the Germany-Poland match at Euro 2008 kicked off the day before yesterday, the rush of excitement was the same. A packed house of colourful fans singing for their teams, the players not able to, and not wanting to as well, rest for even a moment for a full 90 minutes, the passionate attraction towards the ball at any cost - what a sight!
So here I am - suffering from the fever called IPL till recently - back to my bigger love football the moment Michael Ballack and his men lined up for their national Anthem at the start of the match. And no prizes for guessing who I would be supporting. The unique distinction of winning the European Cup as a player and a coach awaits Marco van Basten if the Dutch invasion runs till the end under his coaching.
Go Orange, Go Marco!
Wednesday, June 11, 2008
Wednesday, June 4, 2008
Approved absence
Today, one of my friends asked me about the lack of activity in this space for the last few weeks. 'Don't be so idle', I was told. I just said that I will write something soon. What I left unsaid was that there was an absolute absence of activities for such a long time overall that it was imperative that it would reflect here as well. So much so that I hate those learned men now - the ones that have left us with so many crafty adages. 'An idle mind is a devil's workshop,' one of them said. Not only did he cut deep with the word 'devil', he sliced it open by bringing that dreaded 'work' even in the bliss that we call idleness.
Idleness - we say - is just a way of life. You can view it the way you want to. And call you what you want. What you call Zero-Kelvin we love to call Absolute Zero. That's how we look at it. That's how we love it. You think it is doing nothing; we believe it is not doing anything. But it is the same thing. You take a break from work; we take a break and work.
Why ponder over a glass half-empty or half-full? Drink only if someone brings it to you.
P.S. - Ok, the use of 'We' all through this post was an unproved assumption that at least one person like me exists.
Idleness - we say - is just a way of life. You can view it the way you want to. And call you what you want. What you call Zero-Kelvin we love to call Absolute Zero. That's how we look at it. That's how we love it. You think it is doing nothing; we believe it is not doing anything. But it is the same thing. You take a break from work; we take a break and work.
Why ponder over a glass half-empty or half-full? Drink only if someone brings it to you.
P.S. - Ok, the use of 'We' all through this post was an unproved assumption that at least one person like me exists.
Tuesday, April 29, 2008
The Big Blog
After Aamir Khan, it is none other than the grandest man of Indian Cinema, Amitabh Bachchan, who has set his blog rolling. I think it is great to have public figures taking to blogging as a means of direct interaction with the people. And going by his posts, it is clear that this is also a medium for him to make his stand clear on many issues that are inseparable from the life of a celebrity. If you take a glance in his blog, it will be clear how much time he has to think about allegations levelled at him for myriad issues. Despite a routine that hardly anyone of his age can maintain, to stand 'tall' amidst people ranging from politicians, media, intellectuals, artists, NGOs and so on, requires a determination, and patience, that very few can preserve.
In all probabilities, however much he tries to clarify through this blog, people with intentions would continue their tirade against him, even at a personal level. Like all detractors, they are not against him, they are just working towards their minutes of fame. Instead, genuine fans would be much better off to see him ignore these allegations around him. I would not say dignified silence, but a careless disdain is what is required when needed. There would be definitely a seemingly endless treasure of incidents in his remarkable run in the industry - scenes, shoots, songs, dialogues, people. Detractors would remain detractors, but this way his fans would surely be loving the enrichment as much as they have loved the entertainment.
The few places where he has mentioned about his father (the late Dr. Harivansh Rai Bachchan), his poetry and his philosophy, have definitely embellished his accounts more than anything else. Quoting and explaining from the timeless Madhushala, he says how he believes in choosing a (the) path and sticking to it. I shall quote verbatim -
"Madiralay jaane ko ghar se, chalta hai peenay wala,
Kis path se jaaon asmanjas may hai woh bhola bhala.
N.B. At one place, he quotes his father saying - "After the sun has risen and before it sets, the one that sleeps, shall loose all his wealth even if he is a wealthy and devout Raja or King." I am no King, but a quick look at my bank balance gave me nothing to contradict the great poet.
In all probabilities, however much he tries to clarify through this blog, people with intentions would continue their tirade against him, even at a personal level. Like all detractors, they are not against him, they are just working towards their minutes of fame. Instead, genuine fans would be much better off to see him ignore these allegations around him. I would not say dignified silence, but a careless disdain is what is required when needed. There would be definitely a seemingly endless treasure of incidents in his remarkable run in the industry - scenes, shoots, songs, dialogues, people. Detractors would remain detractors, but this way his fans would surely be loving the enrichment as much as they have loved the entertainment.
The few places where he has mentioned about his father (the late Dr. Harivansh Rai Bachchan), his poetry and his philosophy, have definitely embellished his accounts more than anything else. Quoting and explaining from the timeless Madhushala, he says how he believes in choosing a (the) path and sticking to it. I shall quote verbatim -
"Madiralay jaane ko ghar se, chalta hai peenay wala,
Kis path se jaaon asmanjas may hai woh bhola bhala.
Alag alag path batlate sab,
Par main yeh batlata hoon,
Raah pakad tu ek chala chal, pa jaaega Madhushala.
(The wanderer, the traveller sets out from his home to go to the Madhushala. Which path to take he is at a loss. Every one gives him different directions and different routes to take. But, the poet says, i tell him this - just catch one path and keep walking - you will find your Madhushala.)
The Madhushala is symbolic here of a destination a desire a goal, anything. The world will always suggest different ways to get there to achieve it, all very confusing at times. But the poet says, just get on to one path and keep walking, keep persevering - you will find your destination."
I am sure the fans would love to read this than to read him explain that his daughter-in-law was never married to a tree. In the coming days, I hope, we will get a larger share of the priceless chest of experiences he has inherited and earned in his blockbuster life.
N.B. At one place, he quotes his father saying - "After the sun has risen and before it sets, the one that sleeps, shall loose all his wealth even if he is a wealthy and devout Raja or King." I am no King, but a quick look at my bank balance gave me nothing to contradict the great poet.
Saturday, April 19, 2008
Of Steps and Notes
The Taramati Baradari is a historical monument in Hyderabad that was built by the seventh Sultan of Golconda, Abdullah Qutb Shah in remembrance of his favourite courtesan Taramati. It is basically an elevated platform with 12 arches and an acoustic technology way ahead of its time, evident from the fact that the Sultan would keep an ear to the strains of music from the Golconda fort, a few miles away. This has been refurbished by the state's Tourism Development Corporation and now houses a hotel with banquets and a 1600-seater cultural complex. Given the nostalgia associated with the place, it can be safely said that there could have been hardly a better place to house the Golconda Cultural Festival that started today.
To make things better, the evening had a Kathak performance by V Anuradha Singh. She was followed by Rahul Sharma on the Santoor.
I had never been to a Kathak performance before and all that I had seen of it was from a classmate way back when I was in school. Twice every year, on the day of the Individual Performance exam, she would come up and do the exact same steps for about a minute, falter at a particular step each time, giggle and run back to her seat. To see a masterful act after this was a hallowing experience. She came on to the stage and started off with a Shiva-Vandana before speaking to the audience. First on was a Chalan, which focusses solely on footwork, and the audience got an indication as to what was in store. Ably assisted by a harmonium, two tablas, a violin (playing like a Sarangi, which I sorely missed) and an almost redundant keyboard, she doled out small but highly effective doses from her repertoire to the audience. The person in the harmonium doubled up as the vocalist for some of the performances.
She presented short steps on tabla bols, then upped the momentum to depict some improvised sequences like a fish swimming in the river being picked up by a bird, the dance of a bee around a blooming lotus, a group of ducks moving about in a lake, deer-hunting, Lord Krishna playing with a ball, and so on. She explained that she developed these sequences as a layer over the traditional steps of Kathak, before moving on to some more traditional jugalbandi with the tabla, vocals, violin and then a few Chaturanga sequences on Raagas like Hamsadhwani, Shivranjini and Malkauns with all of these together. Overall, hers was a wonderful amalgamation of tradition and contemporary. While the tradition was epitomised by a breathtaking series of 42 back to back spins faster than the count from one to forty-two by the vocalist, the contemporary was best depicted by an item on what she called an Arabian Sufi Kathak, for which four dancers from her troupe added colours to the show. Coupled with a very able sangat by her musicians, her feet rained on the stage like wild rain and her ghungroo would make you believe it was raining on a tin roof. It was indeed a great performance by the artist in that it did not allow the mind of even a first-timer like me to waver.
Rahul Sharma built his performance on three pieces - one what he called as an impromptu nameless piece, a Jazz item and finally what he called the Music of the Himalayas. He was accompanied by a tabla, drums, keyboard and a jazz guitar - the first two instruments being the dominant supporting cast. As evident from the instruments, it was fusion that he served to the audience, probably aware of its composition. I wish there was a complete performance on a Raaga with just the tabla and maybe, a sitar/sarangi/violin. But he had clearly decided on keeping a fast tempo throughout keeping the audience in mind. All in all, it was an enchanting performance by the prodigious talent. His performance was laden with improvisations as well - once he was using only one striker and plucking the strings with fingers of the other hand to create a fresh set of notes, as if coming simultaneously from a santoor and a sitar. There was another prolonged period of time when he kept on playing a stock tune while allowing the tabla and the drums to take the initiative, which both the players did with finesse. Moreover, he was very patient with the glitches, when the power went off twice and the microphones were suddenly not catching some of the instruments.
All in all, this was a great start to this weekend.
To make things better, the evening had a Kathak performance by V Anuradha Singh. She was followed by Rahul Sharma on the Santoor.
I had never been to a Kathak performance before and all that I had seen of it was from a classmate way back when I was in school. Twice every year, on the day of the Individual Performance exam, she would come up and do the exact same steps for about a minute, falter at a particular step each time, giggle and run back to her seat. To see a masterful act after this was a hallowing experience. She came on to the stage and started off with a Shiva-Vandana before speaking to the audience. First on was a Chalan, which focusses solely on footwork, and the audience got an indication as to what was in store. Ably assisted by a harmonium, two tablas, a violin (playing like a Sarangi, which I sorely missed) and an almost redundant keyboard, she doled out small but highly effective doses from her repertoire to the audience. The person in the harmonium doubled up as the vocalist for some of the performances.
She presented short steps on tabla bols, then upped the momentum to depict some improvised sequences like a fish swimming in the river being picked up by a bird, the dance of a bee around a blooming lotus, a group of ducks moving about in a lake, deer-hunting, Lord Krishna playing with a ball, and so on. She explained that she developed these sequences as a layer over the traditional steps of Kathak, before moving on to some more traditional jugalbandi with the tabla, vocals, violin and then a few Chaturanga sequences on Raagas like Hamsadhwani, Shivranjini and Malkauns with all of these together. Overall, hers was a wonderful amalgamation of tradition and contemporary. While the tradition was epitomised by a breathtaking series of 42 back to back spins faster than the count from one to forty-two by the vocalist, the contemporary was best depicted by an item on what she called an Arabian Sufi Kathak, for which four dancers from her troupe added colours to the show. Coupled with a very able sangat by her musicians, her feet rained on the stage like wild rain and her ghungroo would make you believe it was raining on a tin roof. It was indeed a great performance by the artist in that it did not allow the mind of even a first-timer like me to waver.
Rahul Sharma built his performance on three pieces - one what he called as an impromptu nameless piece, a Jazz item and finally what he called the Music of the Himalayas. He was accompanied by a tabla, drums, keyboard and a jazz guitar - the first two instruments being the dominant supporting cast. As evident from the instruments, it was fusion that he served to the audience, probably aware of its composition. I wish there was a complete performance on a Raaga with just the tabla and maybe, a sitar/sarangi/violin. But he had clearly decided on keeping a fast tempo throughout keeping the audience in mind. All in all, it was an enchanting performance by the prodigious talent. His performance was laden with improvisations as well - once he was using only one striker and plucking the strings with fingers of the other hand to create a fresh set of notes, as if coming simultaneously from a santoor and a sitar. There was another prolonged period of time when he kept on playing a stock tune while allowing the tabla and the drums to take the initiative, which both the players did with finesse. Moreover, he was very patient with the glitches, when the power went off twice and the microphones were suddenly not catching some of the instruments.
All in all, this was a great start to this weekend.
Friday, April 11, 2008
Nirvana
There is one point when man stops craving about the material comforts in life and looks beyond. For me, they are the same thing - a craving for something you do not have.
Look at any one of us. Money, investments, career, security - something or the other keeps us tethered to the post of ambitions. And after some years when we actually reach there, we realize there is a higher target to achieve in the same parameters. This is probably because we do not quantify our targets, all we always want is 'more'. Hence however much we achieve, there is more ahead. Today, even as we have left behind the goals of the past by far, we are well into a few rounds of this vicious circle.
However, at one point in life, the futility of all this running around dawns on us. As I said, there is again a craving for something we do not have. So we shift our focus to peace of mind - realizing little that peace was all we had when it all started. And without our knowledge, we also no longer talk about going to the gym or for a jog. We have yoga and praanayam to go with our new wants. I do not understand why one cannot dissociate Yoga and the, often needless, spirituality.
But the fact is we cannot. And there opens the door for the spiritual leader, ever-eager to step into our lives. Supposedly, for our betterment. While the Deepak Chopras await the elite class, the common man in us can always resort to Baba Ramdev, Amma Amritanandamayi and so on. Without realizing, again, we attach ourselves to the lessons of, quite ironically, detachment.
I am not averse to spirituality or religiousness. But we need to realize that we do not need anyone to lead us there. When we think we have had enough of money and fame and want Shanti, the person supposedly guiding us there is in his own pursuit of money and fame. One life is quite simple to manage and no one, not even God himself, can make it easier. And for me, we have God and extra-ordinary Men but sadly, no God-men.
I am not preaching without practising here. If you are into a lot of trouble, you just need to do two things to feel at peace -
A) get used to more troubles, and then,
B) break free.
I can pursue, arrest and experience peace at will. Just yesterday night, I was feeling a bit restive and wanted to come out of it. So I browsed and settled for an album titled Best of Baba Sehgal and put all the songs to play. The repulsion notwithstanding, I intently listened to Manjula Manjula, Baba Deewana, Thanda Thanda Paani, Dr. Dhingra, Memsaab, Miss Loomba Loomba, Kitty Kitty and Dil Dhadke. (Step A)
Then I closed the browser window. (Step B)
At that precise moment, there was more Shanti in my life than what all the holy men have gathered in theirs. When you are in need, you achieve Nirvaana by doing the same by clicking here.
And I can assure you, Baba Sehgal works much faster than Baba Ramdev.
Look at any one of us. Money, investments, career, security - something or the other keeps us tethered to the post of ambitions. And after some years when we actually reach there, we realize there is a higher target to achieve in the same parameters. This is probably because we do not quantify our targets, all we always want is 'more'. Hence however much we achieve, there is more ahead. Today, even as we have left behind the goals of the past by far, we are well into a few rounds of this vicious circle.
However, at one point in life, the futility of all this running around dawns on us. As I said, there is again a craving for something we do not have. So we shift our focus to peace of mind - realizing little that peace was all we had when it all started. And without our knowledge, we also no longer talk about going to the gym or for a jog. We have yoga and praanayam to go with our new wants. I do not understand why one cannot dissociate Yoga and the, often needless, spirituality.
But the fact is we cannot. And there opens the door for the spiritual leader, ever-eager to step into our lives. Supposedly, for our betterment. While the Deepak Chopras await the elite class, the common man in us can always resort to Baba Ramdev, Amma Amritanandamayi and so on. Without realizing, again, we attach ourselves to the lessons of, quite ironically, detachment.
I am not averse to spirituality or religiousness. But we need to realize that we do not need anyone to lead us there. When we think we have had enough of money and fame and want Shanti, the person supposedly guiding us there is in his own pursuit of money and fame. One life is quite simple to manage and no one, not even God himself, can make it easier. And for me, we have God and extra-ordinary Men but sadly, no God-men.
I am not preaching without practising here. If you are into a lot of trouble, you just need to do two things to feel at peace -
A) get used to more troubles, and then,
B) break free.
I can pursue, arrest and experience peace at will. Just yesterday night, I was feeling a bit restive and wanted to come out of it. So I browsed and settled for an album titled Best of Baba Sehgal and put all the songs to play. The repulsion notwithstanding, I intently listened to Manjula Manjula, Baba Deewana, Thanda Thanda Paani, Dr. Dhingra, Memsaab, Miss Loomba Loomba, Kitty Kitty and Dil Dhadke. (Step A)
Then I closed the browser window. (Step B)
At that precise moment, there was more Shanti in my life than what all the holy men have gathered in theirs. When you are in need, you achieve Nirvaana by doing the same by clicking here.
And I can assure you, Baba Sehgal works much faster than Baba Ramdev.
Saturday, March 8, 2008
Silent night
As I sat down, tired
Of the meaningless walk
Alone, lost - the other night,
The darkness was visible, but
Not enough to find my way back.
I made a bed
Of the thick, moist grass
And rolled and rolled, as much -
No edge to fall, no air to lose
Walls and ceiling, made of glass.
The zephyr on the sweat
The coolness of defeat,
Ample support around me -
Sedentary stars standing above
The trampled grass at my feet.
Soon my eyes got wet in sleep
Dreams, even, were taking form
Then, day broke to break it all
I opened my eyes to the jeering crowd -
The early birds had got their worm.
Of the meaningless walk
Alone, lost - the other night,
The darkness was visible, but
Not enough to find my way back.
I made a bed
Of the thick, moist grass
And rolled and rolled, as much -
No edge to fall, no air to lose
Walls and ceiling, made of glass.
The zephyr on the sweat
The coolness of defeat,
Ample support around me -
Sedentary stars standing above
The trampled grass at my feet.
Soon my eyes got wet in sleep
Dreams, even, were taking form
Then, day broke to break it all
I opened my eyes to the jeering crowd -
The early birds had got their worm.
March's Merriment Marred
The first few days of evoke mixed feelings -
1) My brother's wedding anniversary -
Read last year's post here.
2) Viv Richards' birthday
Read last year's post here.
3) This is where the happy mood turns sour - with that conceited and hyped thing called International Women's Day!
(Sorry, no blog post on this one. I don't expect I'd write one too.)
1) My brother's wedding anniversary -
Read last year's post here.
2) Viv Richards' birthday
Read last year's post here.
3) This is where the happy mood turns sour - with that conceited and hyped thing called International Women's Day!
(Sorry, no blog post on this one. I don't expect I'd write one too.)
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