Tomorrow all this will be forgotten.
In the morning your moaning will mean nothing
Your pregnant proclamations will be no more than a whisper, echoing
in the space between your feet and the sheets before finally
being driven out by sound of the alarm, unforgivingly sounding the death-
knell on your silent movie fantasy that you mistook
for the real thing.
Tomorrow all this will be forgotten.
And you will lie blinking in the sun with the night's shadows
slowly retreating up the wall and wonder
how just a few hours earlier you thought this moment would last
forever.
Sunday, June 08, 2008
Tuesday, March 04, 2008
Thursday, February 14, 2008
Obamamania
"Families is where our nation finds hope, where wings take dream." — Presidential candidate George W. Bush, Oct. 18, 2000
"We have been warned against offering the people of this nation false hope. But in the unlikely story that is America, there has never been anything false about hope." — Presidential candidate Barack Obama, Jan 8, 2008
I don't know much about the Democratic party's ideology and whether or not Senator Obama, if elected, will be good or bad for India (most Indians seem to think he'll be bad). But he is easily the most compelling candidate, and personally I would like to see him win for just one (admittedly superficial) reason- the sheer quality of his speeches. Right from his keynote address at the Democratic National Convention in 2004, he's been delivering one killer after another; a recent one inspired this music video which had close to 4 million views at last count. If hits were votes, I'm guessing he'll win. There's also an excellent article in Vanity Fair that tells Obama's remarkable story.
Whatever happens in the next 6 months, one thing is certain- with lines like the one above, he's a refreshing change from the Current Occupant, whose brave attempts at profundity might have inspired the likes of Jay Leno and David Letterman, but not too many others. And there are no music videos of him either. I checked.
Whatever happens in the next 6 months, one thing is certain- with lines like the one above, he's a refreshing change from the Current Occupant, whose brave attempts at profundity might have inspired the likes of Jay Leno and David Letterman, but not too many others. And there are no music videos of him either. I checked.
Monday, February 11, 2008
Meet Jeet Thayil
I recently chanced upon one of Jeet Thayil's poems and subsequently managed to get a copy of his first collection titled English. It is a brilliant and lyrical set of poems, written in a refreshingly simple style. These are two of my personal favourites.
September 10, 2001
How much harder it is to speak
when I have spent the whole day silent.
I would like to stop someone,
leave my room in the evening
and stop someone, a man without hope,
or a woman bent double, as if she were
searching the sidewalk for gems
caught in the cracks, and I would tell her
that each of us walks with the same
impossible burden, knowing
that only the stars will last --
she will listen to me, hear what I say
and go on her way, bent over as before,
never looking up at the approaching sky.
How to Be a Leaf
Hold your breath until
you are God's green thoughts.
Stop eating,
air will suffice for food.
Water is another matter:
the skin absorbs moisture,
eyes adjust,
limbs grow inward.
Conjugate patience.
Worship women and trees.
September 10, 2001
How much harder it is to speak
when I have spent the whole day silent.
I would like to stop someone,
leave my room in the evening
and stop someone, a man without hope,
or a woman bent double, as if she were
searching the sidewalk for gems
caught in the cracks, and I would tell her
that each of us walks with the same
impossible burden, knowing
that only the stars will last --
she will listen to me, hear what I say
and go on her way, bent over as before,
never looking up at the approaching sky.
How to Be a Leaf
Hold your breath until
you are God's green thoughts.
Stop eating,
air will suffice for food.
Water is another matter:
the skin absorbs moisture,
eyes adjust,
limbs grow inward.
Conjugate patience.
Worship women and trees.
Sunday, February 10, 2008
Taare Zameen Par
I have always been somewhat suspicious of Aamir Khan; he's struck me as being too suave and media-savvy, and somehow obssessed with his image as a 'serious' artist. There's no doubt that he is both intelligent and articulate, a rare combination in Bollywood. But the way he's put those to use as a public figure has often been perplexing. While shunning the Indian Filmfare awards (because he believed they didn't operate on merit) he openly courted the Oscar for Lagaan, spending considerable time and money on the publicity campaign. In 2006 he was all over the news for sympathising with the Narmada Bachao Andolan; his involvement in the politically-sensitive protest movement eventually turned his god-awful Fanaa into a hit. More recently, he is alleged to have turned down an offer from Madame Tussauds to have him immortalised in wax, saying "it's not important to me, so i'm not interested"- or something to that effect.
If there's one thing I admire him for, however, it is for his ability to take on serious issues and package it to a mainstream Indian audience. Films with a social message are all well and good, but any kind of difference can only be made by altering public opinion, and filling up the cinema hall is not a bad way to start. He did it with Rang De Basanti, a film in which he was not the lone 'hero', but which nevertheless revolved around him and rode on his 'star with a conscience' status. And now, with his first film as director, he's done it again with Taare Zameen Par. The performance of the child actor is nothing short of brilliant, but a film on a topic such as this would normally be doomed to a few special screenings on the NGO circuit and a condescending 'special' award or two. Instead, it's one of the biggest hits of the year.
And he's clearly passionate. Although part of an ensemble cast in Rang De, Aamir was its most visible spokesperson; he toured extensively with the film across college campuses even as students, at the height of the frenzy, were tearing up American visas and pledging new-found allegiance to a suddenly-cool India. Now with Taare, Aamir has been busy organising screenings for high-profile ministers and such-like, propelling him to near-saint status. Sure, the cynics will say it's all a gimmick and every once in a while we will have to listen to some self-righteous spiel about his own sense of importance, but if the film ends up creating even a miniscule amount of awareness of -and difference to- our treatment of children and the abysmal state of our educational system, it would be a small price to pay.
If there's one thing I admire him for, however, it is for his ability to take on serious issues and package it to a mainstream Indian audience. Films with a social message are all well and good, but any kind of difference can only be made by altering public opinion, and filling up the cinema hall is not a bad way to start. He did it with Rang De Basanti, a film in which he was not the lone 'hero', but which nevertheless revolved around him and rode on his 'star with a conscience' status. And now, with his first film as director, he's done it again with Taare Zameen Par. The performance of the child actor is nothing short of brilliant, but a film on a topic such as this would normally be doomed to a few special screenings on the NGO circuit and a condescending 'special' award or two. Instead, it's one of the biggest hits of the year.
And he's clearly passionate. Although part of an ensemble cast in Rang De, Aamir was its most visible spokesperson; he toured extensively with the film across college campuses even as students, at the height of the frenzy, were tearing up American visas and pledging new-found allegiance to a suddenly-cool India. Now with Taare, Aamir has been busy organising screenings for high-profile ministers and such-like, propelling him to near-saint status. Sure, the cynics will say it's all a gimmick and every once in a while we will have to listen to some self-righteous spiel about his own sense of importance, but if the film ends up creating even a miniscule amount of awareness of -and difference to- our treatment of children and the abysmal state of our educational system, it would be a small price to pay.
Saturday, February 09, 2008
For Mum and Dad
I write because of Aesop's fables and Panchantra and Ladybird books. Because of nursery rhymes and bed-time stories. Because of Chicken Little and Thomas the Tank Engine and Postman Pat (and his black-and-white-cat). Because of the subscriptions you took out to Tinkle and Champak and the small lending library down the hill -from where I got copies of the Hardy Boys Case Files with laminated covers which I took with me wherever I went, just to impress my friends. Because of all the Tintin and Asterix books that you bought me at exhorbitant prices. Because of Jemima Puddle-Duck and The Wind in the Willows and even the Archie comics that I would pester you for at all the railway stations when we travelled for the summer. Because of all the quiz books and yearbooks and rotating cardboard cut-outs that you brought back from different places, most of which lay in my room gathering dust. All this is why I write.
Every story is merely a re-collection, a re-telling, a re-creation. But in the end, it will always be just a long-winded substitute for two small words- Thank You.
Every story is merely a re-collection, a re-telling, a re-creation. But in the end, it will always be just a long-winded substitute for two small words- Thank You.
Friday, February 08, 2008
Weekly Update
Movies-I-can't-believe-I-haven't seen before-this-week: Fargo, Citizen Kane, Unforgiven.
Unforgiven, in particular, was surprisingly moving. I've never been a big fan of westerns; I'd always assumed (rather naively, I'm sure) that once you'd seen one, you'd seen them all. All guns, horses, and whiskey, that sorta thing. And the occasional train robbery. But Unforgiven, at its core, is a profoundly subtle movie. Sure, there's plenty of gore, but Clint Eastwood's performance is all about restraint, battling the demons within, rather than the baddies without. And some of the shots of him and Morgan Freeman riding through the not-so-wild west is sheer poetry. Who knew?
Song-on-constant-loop: Things have changed, Bob Dylan
Unexpectedly-transcendental-moment: Listening to Lucky Ali's O Sanam while smoking a shisha
I'm trying to make this somewhat of a regular feature (this weekly round-up thing, not the shisha). Not that every week is going to be terribly exciting, but still. And if it sounds too boring, I'll just make it up. I'm good at that sort of thing.
Unforgiven, in particular, was surprisingly moving. I've never been a big fan of westerns; I'd always assumed (rather naively, I'm sure) that once you'd seen one, you'd seen them all. All guns, horses, and whiskey, that sorta thing. And the occasional train robbery. But Unforgiven, at its core, is a profoundly subtle movie. Sure, there's plenty of gore, but Clint Eastwood's performance is all about restraint, battling the demons within, rather than the baddies without. And some of the shots of him and Morgan Freeman riding through the not-so-wild west is sheer poetry. Who knew?
Song-on-constant-loop: Things have changed, Bob Dylan
Unexpectedly-transcendental-moment: Listening to Lucky Ali's O Sanam while smoking a shisha
I'm trying to make this somewhat of a regular feature (this weekly round-up thing, not the shisha). Not that every week is going to be terribly exciting, but still. And if it sounds too boring, I'll just make it up. I'm good at that sort of thing.
Mobile Mayhem
If there's one thing worse than having a mobile phone that resolutely refuses to work, it's having to speak to Customer Care to try and fix it. Which is what I did yesterday. If for some inexplicable reason you have not had to go through this yourself, this is roughly how it goes:
*If you'd like to report a problem, press 1*
*If you'd like to speak to an Associate about a specific problem, press 2*
*If you've pressed 2 before listening to options 3 and 4, press 5*
*If you think that options 1 and 2 sound exactly the same, press 6*
*If you'd like to take a minute to break your own knees in frustration, press 7*
After all this, if by some miracle you do actually get to speak to a real person (real being a largely relative term), you will most likely spend the next fifteen minutes listening to the most sincere sounding bollocks that you start to have genuine fears for your own sanity. *If you'd like to place this call on hold and connect to our suicide hotline, press 8*
The future's shite. And nothing rhymes with Orange.
*If you'd like to report a problem, press 1*
*If you'd like to speak to an Associate about a specific problem, press 2*
*If you've pressed 2 before listening to options 3 and 4, press 5*
*If you think that options 1 and 2 sound exactly the same, press 6*
*If you'd like to take a minute to break your own knees in frustration, press 7*
After all this, if by some miracle you do actually get to speak to a real person (real being a largely relative term), you will most likely spend the next fifteen minutes listening to the most sincere sounding bollocks that you start to have genuine fears for your own sanity. *If you'd like to place this call on hold and connect to our suicide hotline, press 8*
The future's shite. And nothing rhymes with Orange.
Thursday, January 31, 2008
Ali G in Wales
Wales isn't the most famous place in the world, so here's a very informative video for all those who'd like to know more. Who needs Lonely Planet when Ali G is in da house?
Shame he didn't 'do-a-knee' like this on India.
Wednesday, January 30, 2008
Spit Back Club
Knowing I'd spent most of my life in Pune (for those who don't know where this, please refer to earlier post about Brad Pitt and Angelina Jolie), a friend of mine recently forwarded me this link. Quite thoughtful of him, I thought. But I could offer up nothing in my defense, except point out that spitting in public places was not merely confined to Pune as the article suggested, but was a national phenomenon, which wasn't really much of a defense at all.
Funnily enough, it seems this spitting business has been in the news a lot lately; this morning I came across this piece- this time out of Delhi. According to the article:
"The last time the government looked into the matter was December 12, 2006, when it started the campaign 'Stop Spitting at Tourist Sites'. The Tourism Ministry has since put aside Rs 50 million for it to increase civic sense among the burgeoning urban population."
50 million?! Now i'm not sure about the legitimacy of this claim (for starters, in India we count money in crores, not millions), but this sure does sound like a heck of a lot of money. And if most of this money is going into lame campaigns like 'Stop Spitting at Tourist Sites (pretty please)' then I for one am not surprised that the results are 'far from tangible'. No, desperate times call for desperate measures, which is why something like the Spit Back Club would be far more effective. It may have been too radical before, but perhaps, post-Rang De Basanti, its time has come. Below is the rough un-edited draft of the charter. There might be a glimmer of hope yet. Sigh.
I have long been perplexed by the countless instances of careless spitting from buses, cars, and even people just walking past. It bothered me, this disgusting and despicable habit, this blatant disregard for others. I often wondered whether these same people would do this in their homes, or even in their yards. I think not. Their own homes were spotless, every last thing in place, a shrine for the Gods. And yet, the minute they were on the streets, they were spitting everywhere. The world was their spittoon.
I laughed at the feeble attempts to curb the problem. Images of gods were being placed in the corners of stairs in movie theatres, hospitals, and hotels. To me, that smacked of desperation. As if they didn't already have their hands full with people praying for Sachin to score a century, for rains, for one honest politician, the gods were now being called upon to stop people spitting in public. There they were. One in every corner. It frustrated me that men had given up trying to do something about it, and were now shamelessly relying on divine intervention.
It was out of this frustration that the idea of the Spit Back Club took shape. The Spit Back Club will be a movement with one and only one aim: to stop people spitting. We will do this in exactly the way the name suggests. We will Spit Back. Systematically, and without malice, we will spit back on anyone seen spitting in public. By riding up to rickshaws, reaching up to buses, stopping on the street, we will fight spit with spit. And by the sheer strength of numbers, we will prevail.
The Spit Back Club will not be a group of anarchist youth, staying just above the law, trying to be cool. Instead, we will be a group of serious individuals, activists even, committed to making a difference by educating people. By making people think twice. We will spit only when spit on. We will not advertise on TV, we will not distribute pamphlets; we will not take out spots on the radio. We will not be aligned to any political party, or subscribe to any political or religious ideology. We will operate solely by word of mouth. And with our mouths.
Without saying a word.
We will not stop until every person in this country either refrains from spitting, or joins the Club. And when this is achieved, we will disband. The spitting will stop, and the club that will only be known as SBC will cease to exist.
Let the spitting begin.
Funnily enough, it seems this spitting business has been in the news a lot lately; this morning I came across this piece- this time out of Delhi. According to the article:
"The last time the government looked into the matter was December 12, 2006, when it started the campaign 'Stop Spitting at Tourist Sites'. The Tourism Ministry has since put aside Rs 50 million for it to increase civic sense among the burgeoning urban population."
50 million?! Now i'm not sure about the legitimacy of this claim (for starters, in India we count money in crores, not millions), but this sure does sound like a heck of a lot of money. And if most of this money is going into lame campaigns like 'Stop Spitting at Tourist Sites (pretty please)' then I for one am not surprised that the results are 'far from tangible'. No, desperate times call for desperate measures, which is why something like the Spit Back Club would be far more effective. It may have been too radical before, but perhaps, post-Rang De Basanti, its time has come. Below is the rough un-edited draft of the charter. There might be a glimmer of hope yet. Sigh.
I have long been perplexed by the countless instances of careless spitting from buses, cars, and even people just walking past. It bothered me, this disgusting and despicable habit, this blatant disregard for others. I often wondered whether these same people would do this in their homes, or even in their yards. I think not. Their own homes were spotless, every last thing in place, a shrine for the Gods. And yet, the minute they were on the streets, they were spitting everywhere. The world was their spittoon.
I laughed at the feeble attempts to curb the problem. Images of gods were being placed in the corners of stairs in movie theatres, hospitals, and hotels. To me, that smacked of desperation. As if they didn't already have their hands full with people praying for Sachin to score a century, for rains, for one honest politician, the gods were now being called upon to stop people spitting in public. There they were. One in every corner. It frustrated me that men had given up trying to do something about it, and were now shamelessly relying on divine intervention.
It was out of this frustration that the idea of the Spit Back Club took shape. The Spit Back Club will be a movement with one and only one aim: to stop people spitting. We will do this in exactly the way the name suggests. We will Spit Back. Systematically, and without malice, we will spit back on anyone seen spitting in public. By riding up to rickshaws, reaching up to buses, stopping on the street, we will fight spit with spit. And by the sheer strength of numbers, we will prevail.
The Spit Back Club will not be a group of anarchist youth, staying just above the law, trying to be cool. Instead, we will be a group of serious individuals, activists even, committed to making a difference by educating people. By making people think twice. We will spit only when spit on. We will not advertise on TV, we will not distribute pamphlets; we will not take out spots on the radio. We will not be aligned to any political party, or subscribe to any political or religious ideology. We will operate solely by word of mouth. And with our mouths.
Without saying a word.
We will not stop until every person in this country either refrains from spitting, or joins the Club. And when this is achieved, we will disband. The spitting will stop, and the club that will only be known as SBC will cease to exist.
Let the spitting begin.
Tuesday, January 29, 2008
For You-Know-Who
Go on, do what you've got to do. You've got your dreams I've got mine too. Be strong, get off at the next stop. Don't worry about a thing. Keep taking it easy. This time it's not personal. The universe will help you now. To find a place you can breathe. And do what you've got to do. Keep taking it easy. Keep taking it easy. Come on. I'll let you borrow my four leaf clover. Come on. Take it with you, you can pass it on. Come on. You know I'm not the kind to say that it's over. We'll be rubbing shoulders once again in the sun. Come on. Take your dreams, where nobody can find them. Come on. You know I won't be happy till you've won. So come on. Come on over, borrow my clover. Is there anything left that you haven't done? Go on, do what you've got to do. You've got your dreams I've got mine too. Be strong, get off at the next stop. Don't worry about a thing. Keep taking it easy.
Damon Gough, a.k.a Badly Drawn Boy, Four Leaf Clover
Damon Gough, a.k.a Badly Drawn Boy, Four Leaf Clover
Monday, January 28, 2008
Lessons in Humility: Fabrice Santoro and Roger Federer
A lot of the sporting action over the last few weeks has been taking place Down Under. The cricket may have grabbed the headlines what with the 'Monkeygate' scandal and other absurd antics, but the hard courts of Melbourne had their own share of stories. First up was Fabrice Santoro, who had this to say after being thrashed 6-1, 6-2, 6-0 by Federer:
"Everything looks easy to him, he has always time to play. He's never in a rush or anything. When he's coming to the net, there is no space to pass him."
And, soon after that, the clincher:
"I'd love to play him once again. Because it's so beautiful, what he's doing."
The lack of ego was what was so refreshing. Here was a 35-year-old man who'd just been given one of the most comprehensive beatings of his career and yet there was none of the "wasn't on my best form today" or "her squeaking shoes distracted me" (Daniela Hantuchova earnestly explaining why she had lost to Ana Ivanovic). No, this was just simple acknowledgment that he had been beaten fair and square by a player whose abilities he could never hope to match and that was that. Good night everybody and let's get on with our lives now, shall we?
Federer was equally gracious, both in victory and then, subsequently, in defeat. After scraping through in his match with Janko Tipsarevic, the defending champion had this to say:
"What a great battle. Fair play, he's a nice guy- pity somebody has to win, wish we could have draws sometimes."
And then, after losing to Serb wunderkid Djokovic:
"I've won, many, many times when I didn't expect myself to win. So tonight's one of those nights where you're a little bit disappointed."
And finally, just like Santoro, the clincher:
"I've created a monster, so I know I need to always win every tournament, but semis is still, you know, pretty good."
Ah, terrible burden, this genius thing.
"Everything looks easy to him, he has always time to play. He's never in a rush or anything. When he's coming to the net, there is no space to pass him."
And, soon after that, the clincher:
"I'd love to play him once again. Because it's so beautiful, what he's doing."
The lack of ego was what was so refreshing. Here was a 35-year-old man who'd just been given one of the most comprehensive beatings of his career and yet there was none of the "wasn't on my best form today" or "her squeaking shoes distracted me" (Daniela Hantuchova earnestly explaining why she had lost to Ana Ivanovic). No, this was just simple acknowledgment that he had been beaten fair and square by a player whose abilities he could never hope to match and that was that. Good night everybody and let's get on with our lives now, shall we?
Federer was equally gracious, both in victory and then, subsequently, in defeat. After scraping through in his match with Janko Tipsarevic, the defending champion had this to say:
"What a great battle. Fair play, he's a nice guy- pity somebody has to win, wish we could have draws sometimes."
And then, after losing to Serb wunderkid Djokovic:
"I've won, many, many times when I didn't expect myself to win. So tonight's one of those nights where you're a little bit disappointed."
And finally, just like Santoro, the clincher:
"I've created a monster, so I know I need to always win every tournament, but semis is still, you know, pretty good."
Ah, terrible burden, this genius thing.
Thursday, January 24, 2008
Blast from the Past: Interview with Saurav Ganguly, India Captain
The year is 2002. The Prince is still King of all he surveys and the dramatic fall from grace has not yet begun. With the 2003 World Cup in South Africa just a few months away, I managed to have a chat with the man affectionately known as Saurav Da. Below is the complete transcript.
AJ: Saurav, your thoughts on the match today.
SG: Yeah, it's been a good outing, i thought under the conditions the batsmen and bowlers did a good job, some of the youngsters showed a lot of promise, and we're happy with the way things are shaping up.
AJ: But you lost by 200 runs.
SG: Yeah, i mean you've got to take the positives out of each game, we're a young side, we've been a young side for about 10 years now, and consistently under-performing while still being adored and worshipped by a million fans is no mean feat. I mean, this is the kind of thing that Houdini would be proud of.
AJ: How’s it looking for the future?
SG: Well, like i said, some of the young boys are shaping up really well now, and as long as the seniors keep showing up and collecting their match fees and the endorsements keep coming in, things are looking good for Indian Cricket.
AJ: And the World Cup?
SG: Oh that, yeah...i mean, we look at each World Cup as practice for the next one, and from that perspective we're looking forward to 2007. it will be a good opportunity to blood some more youngsters who will then hit form by 2025. By then most of the seniors would have served their respective terms as Chairman of the BCCI and i will serve in the capacity of 'Technical Consultant to Left-handed Batsmen with Fundamental Weaknesses in Technique'. It shoud be a good challenge.
AJ: What were the reasons for today's poor performance?
SG: Like i said, i don't think it was a poor performance at all; we put up good fight under difficult conditions. The stadium facilities were inadequate, we were not provided practice pitches, the actual pitch was poor, our hotel rooms were inordinately small, and we were up against a team who've got some momentum going for them in the last few months. Given all that, i think the boys came up with a really good performance and i am proud of them.
AJ: But this was Mumbai and you were playing Kenya.
SG: That is irrelevant.
AJ: Earlier this season, you had a run-in with Glenn McGrath; can you tell us what happened?
SG: Well, it's very disappointing that things actually got to that point, Glenn is normally a professional but on that occasion he kept bowling short into the rib cage and would then laugh at me after each delivery. I mean, can you imagine that? it was very disconcerting and it was the main reason why i could not play my shots. It just got to a point where i couldn't take it anymore so i decided to take things into my own hands and stand up for myself, like a man.
AJ: So you complained to the umpire.
SG: Yes i did. I wish i didn't have to, but it's the only way to keep things like this from happening again. It brings the game into disrepute and it's just not cricket.
AJ: So just to get things straight: Taking your shirt off, swirling it around your head, and shouting the 'F' word over and over again like a retard, while standing atop the visitors gallery at Lord's is perfectly acceptable, but being amused as a fading, past-his-prime batsman tries in vain to hook one of the games' great fast bowlers is just not cricket?
SG: Precisely.
AJ: Thanks for talking to us.
SG: Always a pleasure.
AJ: Saurav, your thoughts on the match today.
SG: Yeah, it's been a good outing, i thought under the conditions the batsmen and bowlers did a good job, some of the youngsters showed a lot of promise, and we're happy with the way things are shaping up.
AJ: But you lost by 200 runs.
SG: Yeah, i mean you've got to take the positives out of each game, we're a young side, we've been a young side for about 10 years now, and consistently under-performing while still being adored and worshipped by a million fans is no mean feat. I mean, this is the kind of thing that Houdini would be proud of.
AJ: How’s it looking for the future?
SG: Well, like i said, some of the young boys are shaping up really well now, and as long as the seniors keep showing up and collecting their match fees and the endorsements keep coming in, things are looking good for Indian Cricket.
AJ: And the World Cup?
SG: Oh that, yeah...i mean, we look at each World Cup as practice for the next one, and from that perspective we're looking forward to 2007. it will be a good opportunity to blood some more youngsters who will then hit form by 2025. By then most of the seniors would have served their respective terms as Chairman of the BCCI and i will serve in the capacity of 'Technical Consultant to Left-handed Batsmen with Fundamental Weaknesses in Technique'. It shoud be a good challenge.
AJ: What were the reasons for today's poor performance?
SG: Like i said, i don't think it was a poor performance at all; we put up good fight under difficult conditions. The stadium facilities were inadequate, we were not provided practice pitches, the actual pitch was poor, our hotel rooms were inordinately small, and we were up against a team who've got some momentum going for them in the last few months. Given all that, i think the boys came up with a really good performance and i am proud of them.
AJ: But this was Mumbai and you were playing Kenya.
SG: That is irrelevant.
AJ: Earlier this season, you had a run-in with Glenn McGrath; can you tell us what happened?
SG: Well, it's very disappointing that things actually got to that point, Glenn is normally a professional but on that occasion he kept bowling short into the rib cage and would then laugh at me after each delivery. I mean, can you imagine that? it was very disconcerting and it was the main reason why i could not play my shots. It just got to a point where i couldn't take it anymore so i decided to take things into my own hands and stand up for myself, like a man.
AJ: So you complained to the umpire.
SG: Yes i did. I wish i didn't have to, but it's the only way to keep things like this from happening again. It brings the game into disrepute and it's just not cricket.
AJ: So just to get things straight: Taking your shirt off, swirling it around your head, and shouting the 'F' word over and over again like a retard, while standing atop the visitors gallery at Lord's is perfectly acceptable, but being amused as a fading, past-his-prime batsman tries in vain to hook one of the games' great fast bowlers is just not cricket?
SG: Precisely.
AJ: Thanks for talking to us.
SG: Always a pleasure.
Wednesday, January 23, 2008
A New Years' Lack of Resolution
Twenty-two days into January and no posts. Truth be told, there have been no events worth posting about. And as February, the armpit of the year, approaches, the likelihood of such blog-worthy events taking place seems slimmer than ever. Still, if only to momentarily halt this blog's sad and inevitable decline into cyber-nothingness, post I will. Even if it's about nothing. Because when you lay the little fragments of nothing end to end, it just might add up to something.
So, if this is to be a death song, so be it. If this blog is to serve no other purpose other than to be a mere epitaph, an elegy, a requiem for so many unfulfilled dreams, then so be it. It's the moments that matter, in the end. So long.
So, if this is to be a death song, so be it. If this blog is to serve no other purpose other than to be a mere epitaph, an elegy, a requiem for so many unfulfilled dreams, then so be it. It's the moments that matter, in the end. So long.
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