2007... and all that

Curtains fall on an eventful year. Certainly the most eventful one for some time now. For me that is.

And while I cannot be sure whether it made me strong, it certainly made me stronger. Slight difference between the two.

The stuff that I learnt cannot probably be put across in a single blog post, it is more of a single chapter of my autobiography, if and when I decide that I would have enough readers! But here is the brief overview of what I felt:

a. Never take your loved ones for granted. NEVER. This one I learnt in more than one ways, and both the times, it made me think. Now while I am certainly not an extreme case while taking people - especially close ones - for granted, I could definitely improve. All of us can. Some, much more than others.

b. Death happens. It pains. And there is no solution to it.

c. Don't care for them who don't do the same for you. I am getting there on this one. Almost there.

d. You cannot please everyone. Learnt it the hard way, and experienced it the second time in three years. Time to infer from the same.

e. Post retirement plans could be made before you start working. And can be worked towards. It just gives you motivation to work on things you don't like.

f. Watching cricket matches in a stadium, especially when they go real close gives unparalleled joy. Especially when your girl accompanies you and wants to sit there even after India has almost lost the match.

g. Alibagh may be a decent place for a day of holiday, but Chandigarh rocks. I hope it remains the same for years to come.

h. I also learnt that I detest Delhi even more than what I did earlier. And not without reasons.

i. The myth that people like me who are very skinny and thin, and sporty (er, I mean who played a lot of sports as a child), cannot really become fat, is just that. A myth.

j. I am not a movie buff and can just not appreciate classics like 'Jab we Met', 'Guru' or the rest of the pack. Nor do I get impressed by awesome actors like Kareena Kapoor or SRK. I always knew this one, but this year, there's a resigned finality to it.

k. 'Grass is always greener on the other side' and that is because someone 'moved your grass'. Invariably, that someone is oneself. Don't worry if you didnt understand this. Nor did I.

l. Chewing gums if not chewed properly, and hot cups of tea or coffee if drunk carelessly, could nastily scald or cut one’s tongue. Chill karo. Especially the tea or the coffee, before you drink ‘em.

m. Cannot wake up for a nine o'clock lecture on a regular basis to save my life. Probably cannot do the same even to report to office. Can wake up at 5 regularly to watch matches. Will need to stay next to office. No two ways.

n. Some people invariably would think they can never be wrong. Then there are some who think that the whole world is wrong. It's best to leave both these categories of people alone. There are many others who do not fall in these two.

o. They say that whatever happens, happens for the best. It couldn't be more true. I can count atleast 4-5 such happenings happening to me, that in the hindsight were a relief, although I didn't quite enjoy 'em at that point in time.

May continue if I recollect any more such realizations, if and when they dawn upon me.

An hour to go. The wait cannot get any more excruciating.

But it should be worth the wait in gold. No doubt about that.

I wait.

It is is 4 a.m. currently.

The Long and the...Long of it!

Festive season. And a season for records.

Was a part of a group that made a presentation. On powerpoint that is.

It was all of 165 slides. Give or take a couple of them.

One hundred and sixty frikking five slides in a ppt meant that the duration of the presentation was as long as that of a soccer match. Without extra time that is.

It also meant that, unlike the rest of the times where only the audience snores, the presenters were also taking turns in dozing off.

I still cannot get over the fact that we managed so many.

This one goes into the 'Achievements' section of my resume.

"Made a ppt. that was 165 slide long on an IT company for a subject called Strat. Management. It helped in cancelling all further ppts."

lectures + ppts + assignments + dance + housie = life's good!

I am tired. Exhausted to the hilt. The bones ache.

But the mind's fresh and alert. And the life's awesome. It is better than good. At least.

The day begin with the carryover of last night's cricket quiz, was as awake as an owl at dawn, finished it off quickly, gulped the glass of warm water (yeah, bad cold and all that!), and rushed out to get into class before 9.

Third consecutive day I have had to reach college so early. A record for this trimester, three days in a row. Almost feel like raising my bat to the crowd after having scored three tons in three successive matches. Or as if I have just bowled the bowling spell of my life and taken a hat trick. But anyways, they say life ain't cricket, and vice versa, and that, in essence, gives me the chance to move on to what really happened today.

Reached college, bleary eyed due to the insomnaic me, living out of just 3 to 4 hours of sleep - and with the Aussie matches starting at 5 in the morning, God save my soul. I wont comment on the lecture too much, because, people who were already there, know what happened, and people who weren't, don't need to. Basically nothing. Or at least nothing much.

1230 was a break, but only turned out to be a figment of my imagination. Had to finish off my presentation, and needed to make a submission, to a cricket editor. So, that gobbled up most of the time, reducing the lunch break to a mere 45 minutes. Which is still 5 more than what the Indian team gets between innings. Hurried my thoughts and sat through the next lecture, on Infotech Marketing.

A Guest Lecture. Attended by 11 of us. Yeah, I counted, found it difficult counting, because my hands have only ten fingers. had to use the neighbour's pencil for 11. And then a presentation, followed by another Guest lecture, this time on Ethics in Knowledge Management.

Moral that we got from that lecture: Don't stick your pics up Orkut. Even if you feel the urge, put someone else's. Paris Hilton would be just fine. That is, if you are a woman. And if you are a man? Probably Mahendra Singh Dhoni for guys. He is famous.

But then back to the library, back to another assignment. This time - as always - the assn. did NOT make any sense to me. Anyways, finished it off. And then danced.

Yeah, we dance in all possible places, us Mumbaikars. Paucity of place you see. So if discotheques are full and brimming and expensive, we dance in pubs. In autorickshaws. And in college quads. And we disguise it under the name of playing Housie. The botomline was...is...that it was fun. And it was more fun in college than many of the preceding days spent there. Till it got almost spoilt...but naaah, I wont talk about that. They say it pays to focus on the good things. I may be getting a pay cheque soon.

Came back, and was off to another assignment/ppt. before I decided that it is time for me to pen this down. Using my keyboard. Paradox there.

So that was that. Eye lids are almost exhorting me to allow them to meet the outer surface of my eyes, like a paramour wishes to meet his girl. God knows where did that example come from. But yeah, that's the point. Need to listen to the paramour. Or whatever the covering on my eyes is called.

Basically I am sleepy. Making no sense this time.

Night.

Aise hi...

I was going thorugh the previous blog posts on this blog. That was because a friend asked me to explain some of the things I have written. Came across something I had typed about six months back, feel like filling up the questionnaire again! So here goes...

I am thinking – about how to spend the rest of the day

I said – a lot to a lotsaff people today, basically have been on phone for more than a couple of hours. Sorry Dad, just a coupla more bills before I should be able to pay my own!

I want – to sleep, but too lazy to do that. errr.....well!

I wish – that the spirit of cold that has exorcised my body departs it...and soon!

I miss – kaise kahoon...sharam aati hai :P

I hear – someone sing the title song of Dus Kahaniyan!

I wonder – when would I start gymming. When would six pack mean more than the set of hankerchiefs that mum bought some days back. Or the bottles of beers that dad got. When?

I regret – almost nothing. This one remains the same as what I had answered earlier!

I am – more or less enjoying my life, to the fullest. Touch wood!

I sing – Hare Raam Hare Krishna from Bhool Bhulayya.

I dance – every now and then, but the last was at Enigma, and I realised it was much better than dancing in autorickshaws. Well...almost.

I am not – no...I am Suneer. Knott was an English wicketkeeper I guess.

I write – because I find it therauptic.

I hate – people remembering you only in the times of distress. Yeah, this is another thing that has not changed over the period of time. Simply hate such people.

I confuse – between bus numbers, directions and geographies of places. And birthdays, and anniversaries and names of professors, and their lecture schedules; and between Pamela and Raakhee, and Saif and Bobby, and a huge list of things otherwise.

I should – a. watch more Hindi movies, cannot get any better stress busters than 'em, b. watch more Kareena Kapoor movies, which would mean three hours of life spent laughing, best medicine they say for mental diseases caused by the point a above...c. watch Jab we Met a dozen more times to understand it's deep, inner meaning of the same/attain nirvana, d. go for a plastic surgery to get a plastic smile, like that of Shahid Kapoor, would probably make gals call me "chho chweet"...

My handwriting - Blogthings!

This is a test I took for my handwriting. I don't really understand how does my perception of my handwriting tell me that I am what they say I am...but still...!

What Your Handwriting Says About You

You are a fairly energetic person. You know how do pace yourself, and you deal well with stress. You are very extroverted and outgoing. You are loving, friendly, and supportive. However, you are also manipulative and controlling at times. You are balanced and grounded. You know how to get along well with others. You need a bit of space in your life, but you're not a recluse. You expect people to give you a small amount of privacy, and you respect their privacy as well. You are a free thinker. You are unique, open minded, and artistic. You don't care what other people think. You are a decent communicator. You eventually get your point across, but sometimes you leave things a bit ambiguous.

What Does Your Handwriting Say About You?

Why we met? :-(

So people have been raving and ranting and deriving unparalleled pleasures out of 'Jab we met' and given that I cannot remain insulated from these 'Voices of the People', I had no option but to take the plunge. Naah, before you get it wrong, I haven't decided to marry yet (good news for my females fans :P), only took the well thought of decision to view the movie - on my laptop that is - and decide for myself.

For starters, I found the movie ok. Or if I could rephrase that, I did not, not like the movie. Just that I do not think I would be able to watch it again. For me, it was strictly a one time watch. And I think I could probably attribute that to the amazing reviews that I got about it from some of the close people around - CP and Kangana Rangawat, this one is for you guys - it simply did not live upto what my ears had heard.

The thing that probably worked for the movie was it was a very simple movie, hassle free, no strings attached, and clean. And probably that was precisely what worked against it, it was a plot that could be seen in many of the previously aired movies, something of a culmination of Dil hai ki Manta Nahi and Pyaar toh hona hi Tha, and if I were to be a movie buff, I am sure, there would have been more coming out of the closet. Probably the treatment of the subject was different, but the feeling of deja-vu always remained. Throughout the movie.


Kareena. Kareena Kareena Kareena. People have called this her best effort ever, as a lead heroine in a Bollywood flick. I don't quite know. In fact, I do not agree. And again, I am not sure what irritated me more, her acting, or the character itself, granting her the benefit of doubt, and accepting the fact that it is her character, I would still put out my neck and give her a 5 on 10. Nothing more. It just felt like a bout of over acting, more so in the second half, when Kareena needs to give up on her cherubic self.


There are two shades of Shaheed Kapoor - not only in this one, but generally in movies he has acted thus far - one is that serious, ponderous, "mai duniya ka bojhh uthata chala" man - with a pair of glasses to make him look older than he actually looks - and the other, a carefree, 20 something boy, who feels this strong urge to crack unnecessary jokes and show off a sense of "taking life as it comes" and a "happy-go-lucky" attitude. For me, he comes good in the former role, the more serious one of the two. The latter is no different from any of those actors the slapstick shows that one comes across on the telly, nothing special to be called anywhere near good. But coming back to the serious looking Shaheed Kapoor, there seems to be that sense of potential that he could do well to fulfill, fits into the character perfectly well.


My biggest problem with the movie was, and this is a problem with many of 'em, it seemed as far from reality as, probably Shaheed from Kareena, currently. And that, for me is the biggest bane. That, and the fact that the movie has been over hyped beyond comprehension, makes this a movie worth watching for the sake of it only. Nothing more.

An Obituary

Today is a sad day.

Dr. Shastri, my family doctor (and also Ravi Shastri's dad) is no more. He passed away this morning, after an illness.

I would be wrong in calling him my family doctor. He was more of my doctor, my sinus doctor, and his medicine took just two days to work it's magic on my unseasonal cold. The last I met him was three days back, and the reasons were the same, a bad cold that had been inflicted on me by the weather. Had a brief minute long conversation, and then proceeded on to get my magic potion. That was that.

But it was not only his medicine that I would miss. It was his larger than life persona, his ability to be cool and composed and as one says, 'bindaas' about everything in life that stood out. Cricket discussions were an obvious when we met, but if there was one person I would think of when one spoke about 'living life one's own way and allowing others to do the same', it would be him. Even without being really close, there was a kind of a trust, a respect - and if I could take the liberty - a bond that had formed over the years.

Now, it has all ended.

Miss you doc.

Just...

If I were to write a book on my MBA, the most suited could very well be on "How not to attend college and then deflect questions on why one's a Cheshire Cat?"

It may probably sell. Sell well. Everything remotely MBAish sells. No reason why this should not.

Probably the title of the book seems a bit longish. But I like the Cheshire Cat bit. And while I am no Alice (or a Malice...or for that matter even Kallis), NMIMS has surely been a wonderland. Don't want to reduce the potential buyers for my book by enlisting the reasons, but suffice to say that it has not been one shred less than wonder.

Yes, you got it right. The feelings just sinking in. Still not in fully, but seeping in all the time, each minute. The focus thus, now has gone to meeting people, planning to meet people and planning on how to plan to meet people. Well, I just made the last one up, but you get the drift, don't you?
So, it was a friend I met yesterday for the first time, met my long-lost cuzzin today (and it seemed like it was a first as well!), planning to meet another tomorrow...and amidst all this planning for a trip to Jaipur with someone very soon. Now that I think of it, the planning for the planning part also holds true, because I plan to plan for the New Year's party as well, with a couple of really close guys, and hopefully make it work.

And with the year fast wishing to finish itself, the resolutions would have to come out equally rapidly as well. So, I would need to plan for that too.

But coming back to where I began from, the Cheshire Cat story. The title is definitely a little long. But then what the heck, someone had also written 'How Opal Mehta Got Kissed, Got Wild, and Got a Life.', which gained more publicity than any other novel, despite been partially plaigarised and possessing this long a name.

My only wish is that my book contains more characters than those in the title.

5th December, 2007

The temperature was approximately 100 degree celcius, the nose leaked like a tap dripping away through the night. Sonorous, amongst others was the words that described it. Aptly. The situation did not change much on getting the good news. Nor did it change much three days later. Cold and me go a long way. That’s for another day.

He asked, “Bad cold, too much partying?”

“No sir. Preparing hard for this one.”

“So, now you can party.”

“Yes.” Could not think of anything more intelligent.

So much for conversations with people who select you in their companies.

Out of the negotiation room, someone hugs me. I don’t think I even knew who the person was. Apparently he knew before I did that I had been selected. The four of us, congratulated each other. Don’t think it even stuck to any that we were done and dusted.

The motivation of getting out of a plush, fat-paying-cheque job, into a B-school, had been fulfilled. End of story. In the chapters of the story of my life, this one would be one strange one, one with many more lessons than the ones preceding it.

The feeling’s sinking in. Just like Tiger Wood’s golf ball in that big, black hole.

Where are you, oh sleep!

So at these wee hours of the night, the sleep's totally deserted the deep recesses of my eyes, and the mind tosses between the thoughts of gulping down a valium or two and the impending Logistics Management lecture at equally wee hours of the morning. Random thoughts get entertained by the mind, and like unwelcome guests, refuse to leave the coziness of the cerebral. Realistically speaking, the thoughts are not all random. Some are those that have permanently decided to reside there, like tenants gone bad, and nothing can be done about 'em.

Absolutely nothing.

But to kill this bout of temporary insomnia, I try to think something good, something that would not strike the mind like an earthquake measuring 8.4 on the Richter Scale, and my friend's reception immediately strikes my mind. It was yesterday.

And the best part of the reception was that, I was the only one from Mumbai to be there, the rest had already remained present for the Bangalore leg of the same. So, needless to say, I spent quite sometime alone. Looking around at people, observing mannerisms, and amidst all this, couldn't help but appreciating the fact how pretty my friend looked in the wedding dress. It was really good to see the two of them together. And it was even sweeter to see that my friend actually made her brother sit with me for almost the entire duration of my visit. So that I do not get bored. :-) Appreciated. Greatly.

And as I walked upto the stage, to meet the couple, the first thing she says is, "You put on so much weight."

Yeah, that is true. Couldn't be more true. Probably start gymming once I am done with placements. Probably next year. Probably once I resemble Adnan Sami and my girl friend also decides to disown me like his did. Probably.

But that, and my perennial cold problem, did not deter me from having a large slice of ice cream. Not one of my favourites, which usually is the special Malai Vanilla from Naturals', but then butterscotch ain't too bad either.

Anyways, coming back to the wedding, it was really a nice, simple affair, and something that I thoroughly enjoyed and cherished, amidst the so-called placement fever. The exit from there was rather abrupt when a phone call from folks told me that they had been locked outside without any keys to enter. Rushed back to get home.

Tomorrow is a short day, a lecture and couple of pieces of cloth to be 'shopped' for the interview day after. Apaprt from that, a potentially exciting match in the offing, for which I should be glued in front. Some preparation for the another potentiall explosive day...day after, where the grey cells could just be tested beyond the realms of cricket.

But I guess, the high from watching an India-Pakistan match may just help me. Or at least I hope it does.

For now, the bed beckons.

Mumbai.

The lady graced this city by her presence, and made me think.

For a change that is.

Now, while I am not 'politically-inclined', I do have an upper storey that ticks, and chugs along, and thinks about issues that are in no way connected to me. Or at least directly. And yes, when one speaks about Mumbai, getting graced by a lady, and politics in the same breath, it is all too evident that I am alluding to Mayawati's trip to the land of dreams.

The land that is going to the dogs. The land which is bursting at it's seam. The land which was once a heaven to live in (yes, it was, not so long ago), but now, with the invasion of some 'aliens', it has ceased to be one.

And natives of this city would know what I mean. Probably people who haven't seen this city earlier would shrug off the claims of making it a Shanghai, which I quite laugh at as well. This city has no longer remained what it was, and the reasons are quite aplenty, none more than political.

Vote banks have led these guys - read politicians - to 'invest' heavily in them, and in absence of any 'regulatory' body, the innocent have suffered. And it was all too evident in Mayawati's rally, or the idea behind it. You can, for that matter, substitute her with anyone else, it does not matter. There are people by the hordes that join such rallies, most of them, if not all, frm the not-so-affluent class. Get swayed by the talks, by the promises, by the assurances and by the rest of the inspirational talk. And to add to this, i.e. to the vote bank, there are more such people who get encouraged to join the brigade, from the different parts of the country. And they make it their home.

Now while it is alrite for people to enjoy their slice of pie from this city - after all there are no visa norms to shift cities - the demand is far outstripping the supply, and at a rapid pace. Uninteruppted Power, Clean, potable water and last but not the least, something that resembles a faint definition of pure air is all dwindling. And no, I wont talk about roads or the traffic, because it has been spoken about far too often. But yes, with passing years, I can barely think of something good about the city, something that I cherish and can boast of. To my friends from the different parts of the country. And that is sad. The times that I try not to be indifferent to this, my heart bleeds.

In the end, an anecdote that keeps repeating so often, that it's often become a joke. When asked what Mumbai has to offer it's tourists, a sightseeing location, most of us answer, 'have you tried the local trains during the peak hours?'. Probably people are just being funny. Or sarcastic. But one rendezvous with the trains could be enough to last the life time, it is definitely not for the faint hearted.

I feel for the city. I really do. And the only thing I could probably do is take it (the shit) or leave it (the city). Something tells me that the second option could very soon become reality.

Well.

he hears silence speak to him. he hears it out patiently. it is dark.

inside and out.

he sits on his couch.

wondering. what could have been.

what the future holds. and what it does not.

but there is a calm. no storm. no worries. no nothing.

it would soon be time to go.

he knows it. very well.

he waits.

Of cakes...professors...and lectures that were not!

This one takes the cake. And the pedhas. And ladoos as well.

As most of you would know, I am in my fifth trimester of MBA. Well, if you didn't, you did now. Plus, it also means you haven't been following my life too well. That is so not caring. Bloody Bull.

Anyways.

So, here I was, 5th trimester. Where people almost stop worrying about studies, lesser about exams, and mostly about the pay packages and profiles. Of the jobs. And the placements.

But I think I have broken all barriers today. I forgot that we had a subject taught by a particular professor in this trimester. Err no, I did not forget the name of the professor. Or of the subject. I forgot that we actually had this subject.

So here is how it peters out.

It is 12 in the night. I log out of my lap top last night. Tired and exhausted of four successive days, of being at home and relaxing. So had to sleep. Lights off. Cozily snuggle up my bed.

Ten minutes into my thoughts for the day, something strikes. I get reminded of a professor. Let's name him X. So, I remember Mr. X. For no apparent reason. Or rhyme. Didnt I hear someone say that he would teach us again this trimester. But then, I had not experienced him so far.

Huh?

I am awake now. Fully. Lights on. Laptop opened. Turned on. Not me, the laptop buddy.

Log in to my gmail. Search for the time table.

There it is. Shocker. I have missed 5-6 of his lectures so far. Out of 10 that is.

Because I didnt know we had such a subject this trimester. I groaned.

Damn.

My future is bleak.

Updates...and more!

As one would have noticed, the gaps, in terms of days between two articles are not as little as they were earlier. And that s for a reason. Not because I got that ever-so-famous writers' block. In fact writing is one of the reasons for the prolonged absence.

First of all, my first article's got published in a cricket magazine, Cricket Today, and it really feels good. Then again, there are miles to go before I sleep. Or rather, many deliveries to be bowled before the umpire calls it over.

The second piece of good news is obviously from M&M, but there is a story developing there as well, which I would post soon. Need to get certain things out of my way first. There are a couple of other things brewing as well, but given the paucity of clarity, I would get to them soon. Here itself (that's like they say, watch this space for more, it already seems like I am getting into marketing rather subconsciously!)

And now I also need to make a special mention of a dear friend, who's sms goes like this:

"Hey Sexy! Hope u had a BLAST in Diwali. Was bz with family and so couldnt wish u, but haven't forgotten u:-) Best wishes to u and ur family :-) Heard the good news, congrats :-) As for people who see the glass 10% empty, dont fret too much about them. Send them to me ;-)"

If you missed it, that is exactly, four emoticons in one sms. Yeah, this ain't a chat, but an sms that was sent to me. FOUR emoticons in one, and surprisingly only one exclaimation. And people who know him, would have guessed by now, who is he.

Deven, who else.

Unfortunately, I cannot share some of the e-mails that he's sent me, but I can assure you, that the count would then have been about the number of words in a sentence of exclaimations, and smilies and the rest. So you may end up saying that there were four words in that sentence full of smilies and winkies.

Sorry Deven, couldn't let that one go ;-)

Well, the placement season begins in....well don't know how much time from now. Actually noone knows. So I could be pardoned for that. But hell, I should be free to watch India play the Aussies and the Lankans in the tri nation tournament in Oz.

That is it from my side, should be back with more, till then keep reading my columns on
www.isport.in

Why does one do this?

This one has been playing on mind for a long time, and guess this is best place I could get it out. The trigger was obviously the behaviour of one particular personn, and that person's reaction to a situation which would have made anyone happy. Or should I rephrase that as "should have". The incident was a big one, and in all probabilities, a long cherished one, by the person in question.

The initial reaction was that of happiness and joy associated with it, with a tinge of pride, which is pretty normal. After that, the person also thought about the so called negative repercussions to the same. If at all one could term them as that.

And the same came out. The not-so-positive event associated with the incident came to the fore for that person. The person was sad. Not a lot, but enough for me to think about this behaviour. If not the back seat, happiness was no longer in the driver's seat.

And very frankly, I wondered why. Why did the person, and in general, why does the person behave in such a thankless characteristic. I use the word, 'does' here, because, I have observed the person for a reasonable period of time, and I can safely say that, the person belongs to the breed of people who look for negatives even the best of news. And that is what shocks me, surprises me, and makes me question the person.

There are tons of people there, out in the world, who lack the basic - by basic one means, the 'necessities of life' - amenities, who struggle to make their ends meet, and here we have someone, who, come what may, would always end up being the morose self, that the the person is always known for. I really wonder why. Why can't there be some more self contentment, a feeling of being relaxed with the good things, and a capability of seeing the glass, 90% full, rather than 10% empty?

I really wonder why. Feel sad about it.

In the end, I really feel sad.

Diwali Feast?

Tomorrow is Diwali. For me it is today.

Three matches, and a potentially explosive news.

The first one is on it's way, woke up at 5 to watch Aussies take on the Lankans. As I type this, my dull, deary eyes only get more red. One country I want to visit, and soon. Australia.

The other two matchs are between India and Pakistan (obviously!), and SA and NZ. Both at approximately the same time. Diwali at it's best.

But the biggest of them all is the appointment of the Test Captain of the Indian Team. This ones going to take reams of pages of followup. No two ways about it, especially now that Tendulkar has sprung a surprise on everyone.

I rub my hands in glee, and lick my lips in anticipation.

This is what they call Diwali Feast! ;-)

Another Review at Shvoong!

Second of my reviews at Shvoong.com

http://www.shvoong.com/internet-and-technologies/news/1700985-http-content-ind-cricinfo-com/

By the way, I like that name, Shvoong! ;-)

Review on Shvoong.com

This is the summary for the website I write for:

Click here.

Pay a visit by clicking on the above link and do let me know what you think of it, comments, criticisms and compliments are welcome :-)

Black Jack, the Game

Roses are red....

On the Right Hand Side of this blog, you would find the "Funny Quote of the Day" section. Normally they are funny, the quotes, but this one takes the cake. Surely.

Roses are red, violets are blue, I'm schizophrenic, and so am I.

Instant laughter!

These days...!

The atmosphere is anything but positive. The vibes that come out, they say, are very similar to what usually happens at this stage, every place. Every time.

For some people's sake I really hope so.

The volatility right now compares with that seen in the Sensex before the Fed. announced their rate cuts. Just needs a spark to ignite it all. And it becomes all that more simple to get affected by these vibes, adversely.

On a personal front, life's pretty decent, the above scenario notwithstanding. It's almost akin to an extended vacation, with some lectures interspersed in between. A vacation that ain't getting too wasted, a set of holidays which is getting optimized, hopefully with some tangible positives coming out soon.

There are a couple of worries, none related to the impending placements, but then, what is life without a certain niggles. I am sure, I would be able to overcome them, later, if not soon enough.


To end this piece, an old picture, that sums up my mood perfectly well...

A night at Reena's...and Enigma

This was my second time at Enigma, the first was for the India-Pakistan World Cup 2003 enconter. This was different though, it was the six of us shelling out a obscenely huge sum to get into the place and dance away to glory. I will spare the details of what actually happened inside, but yeah, did manage to catch a glimpse of Beyonce Knowles. Apparently she had been put up at J.W. Marriot, and got to the discotheque in a saree. Barely caught a glimpse in that dark, smoky place, so cannot comment on how she looked, but a friend who accompanied me tells me that she had a weird silvery 'thing' on her saree.

Pardon me, but I am not too certain about what the thing was.

Later I also heard that Yuvraj was in the same hotel, with Deepika Padukone, and left the place around the same time we got out, around 3 a.m.

The one celebrity that I actually managed to view, was none other than Bobby Darling. Yes, I did. Serious.

That's luck.

Got back to Reena's appartment, tired to the bones. At least I was, lack of sleep for nights on end, but a photo session is never far away with Twin-kill and PJ in the group. So, by the time, Twinkle had regaled us with her 'Abhisheks', 'Suneer C Shetty', 'Shravan is a bad guy', 'Suneer fooled and lied to me', we were all refreshed for the shoot.

This is one of the best group pictures that I have been a part of...

A mid term review of my new year resolution

This was a post I had put up at the end of the first year of my MBA life. A resolution of sorts. As they say, it is a time for the periodic review, one and a half trimesters into the second year.

1. To begin with, I would need to show a little more interest in a couple of things that I wish to learn. Could begin with all the features of that wonderful tool called MS Excel. Capital Markets would be another one. Probably Six Sigma - showed interest, a little more than earlier, but, not as much as I should have. For now, need to grasp certain things on excel before the all important placements.

2. Would need to start dozing off less in the class. It’s a bloody expensive habit. Costs about 150 bucks per hour to sleep (without considering the Time Value of money that is!) Or to learn some thing. Should reduce my sleeping time and start learning! - Stopped dozing off in the class. That is because, I started sleeping more at home, not giving any chance of attending too many lectures.

3. Try waking up for the 9oclock lectures daily. Alrite, make that thrice a week atleast. - had only one 9oclock lecture. So, this is a 'Not Applicable' clause. Will try it out in the 5th trimester.

4. Pray that there are no 9oclock lectures! - Followed this to the hilt. Religiously. Was successfull in my prayers. Result is that I have become more pious than before.

5. Try carrying my own pen and notebook to college daily. Ok, atleast 3-4 times a week! Some people have suffered bad because of this habit! - did this whenever I went to college. The word 'whenever' assumes huge importance.

6. Write some B-Plans. Long time dream this. Would do no harm to the resume as well - Yes. One success at last. Three B-plans and one paper written so far. Need to up the ante, and change the clause to reach the finals in at least one contest. Reason: Same as before.

7. Start working on my Resume, adding all those small things that I may want to put down. - err, have sent in a rough draft, in the process of adding all those 'small' points. Some are too small to be added.

8. Reduce the Auto travel to and from home. Bloody expensive habit again! - :-( :-(

9. Start gassing in ppts. Woefully fall short of doing that. Need to take help from the James Andersons of our class. Or were they Warren Andersons. Blame it on the World Cup! I went the other way, stopped talking in ppts. The only ppt I gave was for my M&M PPI. DO NOT want to make, what happened, public.

10. Visit the NMIMS library more often, to read it’s books, that is. Actually, for that matter, read more non fiction. - Nopes, didnt read any books, fiction or non fiction. Still got time to improve.

11. Start exercising/gymming (this refers to the point 3 above, if I wake up early, why not exercise as well, haina?) - Sorry? What is that?

12. Continue blogging. An awesome habit, especially if you wanna relax and can’t get things out otherwise! And most especially if you enjoy writing and don’t wanna be “anonymously judged” about your writings! - Oh yes, have not given up on this, writers' block notwithstanding. Feel good about it.

13. Start playing Cricket again, at least on a weekly basis, lost touch big time, as was evident in the recently concluded World Cup (!!) - Lasted just two days, sprained my ankle on the first, bled on the second. That was the end of that. Sheer Laziness.

14. Above all, Let Bygones be Bygones. Cannot change things. Try enjoying college more. It ain’t that bad, is it? Surprised myself here. Pleasantly at that, selective alrite, but showed great will power here. Probably because I think strongly about the issues, but gives me loads of pleasure. Best one and a half trimesters so far. Life's Good!

P.S. 15. Improve my sense of humor? So that I get associated with Tigers and not Cobras!!! (alrite, that’s another bad one…cannot reduce my fan following this way!!) - No comments.

P.P.S. Ensure I succeed in at least five of the above! Lemme see, I think the count stands at 7. Which is a rating 'Above Expectations' Way to go!

The Days gone by...!

Doing stuff that ain't legal gives the thrills. Well, legal, by Indian Penal Code, or by the family's code or by the society's code...or by one's college's code.

Posting this one amidst something 'legal' in college gives the kicks. Kicks about the fact that if I do get caught, it would be give me harder kicks. On my backside.

Have been 10 of my best days, make it a fortnight in fact. A match at Baroda, next up at Wankhede to be rounded off by Brabourne. More importantly, a short, but sweet-n-sour rendezvous with Priyanka, interwined between a couple of B-plans and white papers on either side of it, add a new offer to the whole affair, and what I got is a breathless feeling. And a worried mum, who wonders these days why I act so busy. After she almost thought that my MBA's done much before it actually begun.

There is loads to be said about the past some days, I will highlight only the salient 'features':

a. Priyanka's Googly: Sitting at Wankhede, when I thought that she would crib away to glory for making her watch a meaningless match, after India slumped to 60 odd for 6 wickets, she says, "I get this feeling that India should win this match. Let's not go home, let's watch it till the end." I scoff. India win from this position?

India win. She scoffed at me.

b. Cricket Magazine: Aaah, a small dream come true, an opportunity to write for a cricket magazine. Now, I just hope it gets published! A small baby step in my long term goal. I can afford to pat myself here.

c. Biz Plans: Three Business Plans. One paper. One case study. No time whatsoever. Still I attend college. In the 5th trimester. Weird.

d. Placements and the war: Will only talk about the placements, no wars for now. Less than two months to go, and if the couple of pre placemement talks are anything to go by, IT pay packages are not going to be too enticing. Rupee problem they say. Or is it brand dilution? We will soon have the answers. A couple of months or more.

e. Brokerage Agent?: That's what I get called for helping friends with cricket match tickets. Damn, I am hurt. Alrite, just kidding.

f. India versus Pakistan: Waiting. Desperately. Been long since I watched cricket. Almost twenty four hours.

Alrite...need to end this abruptly, the second variety of kick seems coming my way.

A Rendezvous with Baroda

When you desire something, ever so desperately, and after much deliberations and twists and turns and angles like a typical Bollywood movie of the yonder years, you actually manage to achieve that objective, it invariably ends in shattered dreams. Kaput. Broken Heart. And a few bones. Almost

No, I ain't talking of a relationship gone sour. I was alluding to a cricket match. A cricket match that I wanted so much, a match that I actually got, a match that messed up the deep recesses of mind, and eroded the enthusiasm factor I possess so badly that...that nothing, just a few bloody frustrated moments for me, and I was back to normal.

India took on the might of the Aussies, a team raring to go after being beaten by a resurgent Team India, at the IPCL ground in Baroda. And I had the (mis)fortune of landing up with the tickets and visiting this city. This venue. The match was almost as good as over in the first three quarters of an hour, we were back home in three.



The Aussies thrashed the living daylights of the Indian team, and for all it's worth, the Baroda crowd made it's displeasure felt, in a way that has been patented so well by the Indian audience. Throwing plastic bottles. Onto the playing arena.

The only positive that came out of this was that we managed to get out early (before the crowd trouble started), and check out a few places in the city. Had a sumptuos lunch with the guys. Oops, in the whole sad affair of the match description, I managed to forget those other four, who battled with their emotions gallantly, like me. Samarth (the guy who got us the tickets, and a wonderful room in an equally wonderful hotel), Nitin Mohan Srivastava (like calling out his full name, a sense of vintage like Amitabh Bacchan say, Vijay Dinanaath Chauhan...haaain!), Aditya (with his muscles hanging out of his shoulder sockets like none other) and Ayush (Samarth's relation)



The above picture was taken in the room, after the frustration of the day almost meant that we could do everything. Err...almost. However, the match was not the only talking point of that day, there were a few others as well. For starters, the train journey that took us to Baroda, where we had the privilege of encountering an old guy, who seemed almost ready to displace Lalchand Rajput from his current post of the Indian Team's manager, he knew where Kapil Dev set up his first hotel, and what does he import from Australia, to st up his business. He had the knowledge of Lawrence Rowe's eye defect and allergy to grass, and Evan Chatfield's car registration number. Alrite, I made the last one up, but you get the gist? Even when we needed to discuss something amongst ourselves, he would make his presence felt with some heart-felt and 'useful' advise, that we could do without.

Then came the 'shot of the match', figuratively speaking that is. Aditya, as his wont, had his biceps bulging out of his sleeveless tee, when a man...err...woman...err...dunno...entered, and asked Addy for a note or two. Our man refused. The result was something like this, verbatim, translated into English, for the benefit of those non-Hindi audiences.

"Aye...body toh aisi, aur pocket may paisa nahi hai...!"

"Heyy...the physique's like Arnold and Salman Khan, and the pocket's as full as a Roadside Romeo."

For a minute, or probably a little more than that, Aditya was too stunned to speak. The point to be noted here was, we were three (Nitin, Addy and me), and all of us were equally distant from 'him', but, it was only Addy who bore the brunt (fruit?) of 'his' glaze!

The return journey was not as eventful, though we did come across an utterly honest Ticket Collector in our train, almost out of nowhere, just when we were struggling to get home. A pleasant surprise. A definite first.



As India kept losing wickets, my disappointment only got worse.

Some of the other pictures, during the cricket match...


A Pensive looking Addy and a confident Nitin. Addy's worst fears came true.


At the hotel corridor, while checking out.


A kid with expectations penned down. Loads of them. All Shattered.


Look at the guy in the left. He almost shook that same hand with me. Eeeks.

Youhoooooo!!!!

So a long cherished dream get fulfilled tomorrow. A small speck in the ocean it would be, but then, I don't mind it one bit.

Hope to be able to come back and talk extensively about it...

Till then, it would suffice to say that, it has been one helluva week for me, and it can only get better over the weekend...hopefully!

I will be back...

Yesterday..what a day :-)

There are days...and then there are days.

Yesterday was one such instance. A day not had for a long time. A day that winded it's way through a maze, getting lost, then finding it's feet, reaching climaxes before it should, and then not actually doing so, to finally hitting the bed, and hard at that.

The ample testimony to that is that it is way before the break of dawn today, the rooster would have just about reared the head and probably dozed off again, but here is me. In front of technology, to bring things to logical conclusions, that I could not yesterday.

Some day yesterday.

Advertising or over-advertising?

Something for those who want to get into hard core Marketing, and Promotion/Advertising:

A SMALL word on the coverage by Neo Sports for the ongoing India-Australian Series. Something that beats India's performance is the coverage, appalling is one word that comes to mind for starters. The main course gets worse.

Commentary is ordinary, but I suppose we could try to live with that. The worse comes when advertisements usually end up eating into the first ball of the over. Same is the case with the adverts. that end up blocking the replays when a batsman has just got out. However, what takes the cake is the new definition of the ticker advertisements that remain through out the match. By themselves they were distracting enough, but the advertisers have gone one step by adding sound (read noise) to them. So, we now have a Big Bazaar, saying "Sapnon ki Jhholii...." when the commentators would have (by chance) made an interesting point, worth listening to.

Irritating for sure, but now, as I sit back and ponder, I have one small advise for these sponsors. Sometimes, it is better, that you advertise your product, subject to the match situation. So, if India is floundering, and in a little bit of a bother, a typical Indian fan is generally pissed, irritated, angry, sad...and all sorts of those things that you would understand if you were a cricket fan. And then, if you go on to promote your product, it would be akin to adding fuel to the already raging fire. The marketing strategy may just back fire. I, for one (and my dad as well), have decided not to ever go to Big Bazaar to buy stuff. (and believe you me when I say that, there was a period of around four years when I started having only Coke, because Pepsi had eroded the deep recesses of mind with their highly irresponsible and idiotic promotions). There could be many like me, who would be equally appalled at the advertisers' lack of cricketing sense. Try and promote your stuff when the Team India is in a relatively healthier state, though I can also understand your concern in following that advise for this series, rarely would you find that kind of a situation. Anyways, it is better that ways, for you would not lose valuable customers, like you have now. May be you lack a domain expert in your marketing team, a guy who understand the cricket needs of this nation. I am looking for a freelancing job for the next 5-6 months as well, and I have a reasonable interest, and knowledge about this game.

Get the hint?

P.S. This is a part of the article I wrote on my Cricket Blog (www.sonofapitch.blogspot.com), but this particular issue is more generic and deep rooted.

Do we faffer that bad?

So I had my first pre placement talk given to me today. At the end of it all, I wondered.

I wondered about all the presentations that I have been a part of, not as a recipient, but as a participant, as a speaker. Did I gas so much ever? Could not recall one. In fact, I am a black spot in the name of MBAs, hardly faffer around in my ppts.

But what happened today, was the purest form of gas, that got released, not only as a by product of the experiment that the company tried on us, but as the main one. It stank. Awfully bad at that.

At the end of one hour of a continuous and a liberal distribution of gyaan, here is an excerpt from the Q and A session:

Q. Sir, what is the renumeration?
(No answer, conveniently moved on to the next question.)

Q. Sir, what is the difference in the pay packages of a lateral and a fresher?
Yeah, there would a difference.

(Yeah, that we all know, we asked for a number, a figure so that we could feel good, satiate our ego of having a three or four year work experience.)

Q. So sir, what is the pay package at the base level?
We will decide on that as we go along.

(go along? where? we would be gone, long time before that saar)

Q. What is the profile you would be offering us?
Anything of your choice, any vertical, any horizontal, any....anything

Q. So, could we apply for any domain if we wanted a BA profile?
Anything you want.

(yawnnn, should we come for the interview, or would you want to directly meet us on the date-of-joining)

Q. And what about the location?
We have presence in more than 50 countries, it could be any place.

(now, we cannot even meet you directly, don't even know where to meet, plzz tell us something, anything?)

Q. Sir.....
Now lets all watch a video...come on...

Lights get switched off. Video begins.

It ends soon.

We wake up around the same time as well.

I am still wondering about my presentations. And the QA session that generally follows it.

Mumbai sucks...that's what a friend tells me...and why!

There is something about the Delhi versus Mumbai rivalry, something special, that words can just not describe. Closer home, it is very similar to the TSEC versus DJ Sanghavi one, aah, but I will let this analogy go. People who are from these two colleges, would know what I am talking about. Let me put it like this, if a blind test was conducted, on a person, without informing him of the city names, he would come close to replying, "These seem to be almost two different countries..." The criticism that some times flows both way, is almost akin to a one way, one street road seeing heavy traffic from both ends.

Today, was another such case in point, when I met a friend's friend.

Needless to say, she was from Delhi, and on a first long stint in Mumbai. Has been already here for around a month. And very very opinionated. I joined in the fun. As a mere spectator.

Not for me to get very defensive about this city.

"I dislike this place, just cannot associate with my room mates."

So, Mumbai = Room mates. Ok, so if the room mates were from Bangalore or Guwahati or Bhopal, you would dislike those cities as well?

It does not end here.

I ask her, "Where in Mumbai are your room mates from?"

"Where did I say that the roomies were from Mumbai, they are from Amravati."

Alrite. My mistake. Earlier I thought it was Mumbai = roomies, now I need to tweak the equation a little.

Mumbai = Amravati. This is Amravati

I have a smile within. Externally, I profess ignorance, "But Amravati is miles away from Mumbai?"

"So? The people in both the regions speak the same language."

The lady has a point. She likes Delhi over Mumbai, because, she stays in Mumbai with room mates, who are from Amravati, that consists of people who speak the same language as the people in Mumbai.

I agreed. She had a very valid issue there, to prefer Delhi over Mumbai.

We move on.

"So, what else?" I probe further.

"I don't like the boys of Mumbai. They are too irresponsible."

Man, I thought. I also thought, "Bandi may dum hai." Sitting with a hard core Mumbai guy, she actually said that. I love her. Love at first sights probably. Like women who stand for themselves and exhibit so much conviction. Just love her. Bye bye Peeya.

"Why do you think they are irresponsible?"

"That is the feeling I get when I talk to the two guys from my batch."

"Two? Why only two?"

"Because I don't talk to others"

"And why is that?"

"Miss Delhi too much"

I still love you Peeya, please take me back, I say please.

Third lesson of the day. Two guys = Mumbai as a whole. Surely hasn't heard of an optimum sample size. Not her fault, it is me who's in the process of getting an MBA done.

No but wait, it also means, that the guys of Mumbai are irresponsible, because the lady gets a feeling that two guys of her batch, are probably irresponsible in the one month of knowing them.
Do I dare to ask her where the guys are from, Mumbai or Latur?

I decide against it.

I can almost guess what her answer would be.

"And what about Delhi. What is good about it? As in, I know it is good, but what are your favourites?"

"The guys are so responsible"

I had almost forgotten. Next, I ask.

"The people just do not bother."

I feel tempted to put in a spanner in this statement. Unlike in Delhi, where the only thing people do is to bother.

Bother You.

Behind your back.

As is my wont, I don't. Nice rhyme there.

Another chapter in the Mumbai-Delhi war.

Just hope she does not read this one.

A Day is made

I had a date. Err well, it could be termed as a laptop-returning-date, i.e. the date on which I had to return back my friend's laptop.

I got out of my house. She called up. To cancel it.

Or rather to extend the date.

I tok a U-turn, got back to my building. Saw some guys playing cricket.

Joined them. For twenty odd minutes. Then they stopped playing, too dark and all.

And what did I get for my "efforts". No jelly beans. Just a Bloody knee cap. A swollen ankle.

And a lots of satisfaction. Loads of it.

Even as I type this, my fingers smell of Dettol. And of some other cream that I used for the ankle. Don't quite remember the name. It smells alrite.

But now...Now the ankle hurts a lot. An obvious limp has emerged as the soreness has grown exponentially.

I am still very satisfied, just twenty minutes made my day today.

Made it big time.

P.S. Don't ask me my score, conveniently forgotten :-)

Murphy...oh Murphy!

Murphy: I tol' ya so. Didn't I?

Me: I thought that was fiction.

Mu: My Laws ain't fiction mate.

Me (grimace on face): Yeah, I know now. Anyways, I could NOT have done anything to prevent it.

Mu: That is what you think! Anyways, you became the 4,26,55,812th man on earth to prove the law, if that makes you feel better.

Me: And women? How many women have proved this law?

Mu: You pulling my leg eh?

Me: You still have't answered my question? How many women? And to which demographics do they belong to?

Mu: Huh?

Me: Can we actually end up doing a factor analysis on the men and women that we get to find the factors that cause people to get you right? Probably, once that is done, we could also use cluster analysis to segment the market into various portions? Say, people who have proved the law and are fuming right now, people who proved it and want to murder it's maker, people who have proved it and are thanking their stars to scrape through...You know, the basics.

Mu: But....you....huh?

Me: See, once that is done, and we also have a profile of all the people, we could use Discriminant Analysis to decide whether such an occurence could happen to someone new, say my dog wants to try to prove the law, what are his chances? Do we have the data though?

Mu:...............

Me: Murphy? Mr. Murphy? You there?

Mr. Murphy seems surprisingly quiet now. He seems to be pondering. No more 'I-am-the-professor-you-the-student' air about him. Maybe now, he would change his preachings. Or maybe not. Who knows.

For now, he has shut up.

Better, for me.

After the last 3 days, I have had two options. One was to shoot the man. I have taken the other option, begun to respect Mr. Murphy more, from the bottom of my heart. I hate his laws though. Bottom of my heart again. Especially when I am at the butt of it's implications.

run

it is three in the night. deathly silence.

he is alone. people have long gone.

many years back. or was it months.

he has no idea.

now he is all by himself. and there are memories. to nurse him.

and that has put paid to any chance of sleep as well.

his sleep.

the milk's on the gas. a hot glass won't do any harm. or will it.

he looks in the mirror. when was the last time he saw his true self.

months.

he does not even remember his original face. those million surgeries, those countless, painful after effects. those scars. the mental ones.

his thoughts are interuppted by a noise. have they found him?

the milk's overboiled. overflowed. a kitten's lapping it away.

kit's soon still. gone. kaput. traversed to the world beyond.

he gets the answer to his previous question.

he is not alone after all.

Help :-(

The inevitable has happened. I am doomed. Dead.

24th September is, will be the saddest day of my life. I cannot just get over it. Why would someone do this to me? This is cruel. Very very cruel.

Consumer Protection court? Does it have any such case registered before?

Exams on National Holiday? Damn.

And there are three papers that day, 11-1, 3-5 and 6-8. I had to have one at 6.
Match time: 5.30 onwards.

And yeah, while I would be mourning my exam, let me also tell the uninitiated, it is an India-Pakistan final that people would watch. An India-Pakistan WC final, the last that could have happened in 1987, but did not. And if Halley's comet is any indication to go by, I do not see the next one happen any time soon.

And today, when it actually would, I would not be a total part of it. A friend asked me some moments back (and I quote verbatim): "tere bacche tere se kuchh saal baad pochenge toh kya kahega...match ke waqt exam de raha tha?"

(What will you answer your kids some years later, you were writing an exam?)

I gave a very unlike-me, unmentionable-here, sort of a reply. But, it deserves worse.

Am depressed. Need an anti-depressant.
Am sad. Need a shoulder.
Am angry. Need a punching bag.

And apart from all this I also need to know who set the time table. Damn.

Damn. Damn. It feels a little better to say it.

Damn.

There is one hope (against hope!) though. Or wishful thinking.
Match gets postponed by a couple of hours due to rain. Now that would be a delicious thought.

Won't it?

How to get THE ticket?

Wankhede hosts the seventh ODI between India and Australia on 17th October.

Some have approached me on the ways to get hold of a ticket or two. One even had the audacity to ask whether I could arrange for 10 tickets for him. Well...I asked him whether I could get the role in the next Mission Impossible movie.

Anyways, here is where I explain how to get tickets for such matches.

In the end, I wish the thing was as simple as knowing the process.

But let me attempt it anyways.

1. Get to Wankhede 3 days before the match (or whenever they say they will start selling tkts), the window opens at 9.30 am. Make sure you reach there by 9.30.

P.M.

The previous day.

Else, forget it. Make sure, that you got some good litres of water, do-waqt ki roti, and some real hard cash. You dont want to stand in the queue for 12 hours, and then have a hundred less, ain't it?

2. Stand around from the time they start selling the tkts. Don't look too much like a policeman in plain clothes. Catch hold of a tout. You may (MAY) just get a 500 Rs. ticket for 1500. Also remember, the later u go, the costlier the ticket gets. The early bird gets the worm...for around 1500 bucks. Exponential rise in tickets, especially if it is India-Australia.

3. Get hold of a contact, who's contact would give u a ticket. Last India-SA match (that Dravid won for us), I got hold of a ticket from Ramakant Achrekar (yeah, Tendulkar's coach), and I got the ticket for 2000 bucks. A tkt worth 750 bucks for 2000.

4. Pray. Pray that India trails 6-0 in the series, someone may just be too pessimistic to get inside. And then hope that that someone remembers you enough to 'sell' the ticket to u. Let me tell u, for an India Bangladesh match, held in the humid month of May, when Bangladesh had got out for less than 150, and Tendulkar got out early, people left the stadium, and still managed to sell the tickets for the actual Cost Price. So...dont bank too much on this way of going about it. But pray nevertheless. Praying, I heard is thereuptic as well.

5. Abduct someone who claims he/she's got a ticket or two. In fact abduct his/her gf/bf. Make sure, you are able to "extradite"(whatever that means) the ticket out of him/her. Apologise later, saying you heard it was Tendulkar's Last ODI and you are his biggest fan.

Any other methods, please let me know. Better still if you get a ticket, spare one for me. Make that two, I don't mind.

Exams? Mai kissi exams ko nahi jaanta!

A question that I have been asking myself day-in-day-out: Am I actually in the middle of examinations? It is just a couple of hours left for my next paper.

Picture this. I have an exam at 6 in the evening, that gets over at 8. The next one is next day, afternoon. Essentially, I have around 18 hours between the two papers. To open the...err...don't even have books. Need to first get the presentations from people. So, 18 hours to do all that.

And what do I do?

Go dining with a friend post the first paper. Get back home dot at 9.30 to watch India thrash the living daylights out of South Africa, that incidentally gets over at 2. In the night, or morning, which ever way you look at it.

Studies are something in mind for the next day's paper, but they remain there, in the mind.

Hit the sack.

Wake up at 9.30. Time's running out, have to open my first ppt.

I do not do that till about 11. By this time, I know there is no use doing that. Studying I mean.

I shut it as soon as I had opened it. Onto icicidirect.com and isport.in.

I get the anwer to my question. Yawnn. Guess I should doze off for an hour.

Wish 'koi meri proxy maar sakta'.

Well said sir...!

Harsha Bhogale: When you look into your camp, you may see your players a little scared, but you got to budget for the fear in the oppositions' camp.

Well said Mr. Bhogale. Agree totally. Works in every walk of life.

One may be down and out, or nervous and upset, there are others who are worse off.

Account for that.

An open letter to Flintoff.

Dear Freddie Flintoff/Fredalo/Andrew,

It was alrite that you said a word or two. Seems petty enough. Probably not.

Either ways, Yuvi's not going to take that lying down.

You forgot Freddie, when in the heat and humidity of Mumbai, you had stripped yourself of ur tee, some one else had not enjoyed the luxury of watching your show too much. He had stripped back at the Mecca, and you could do nothing. Lap Dance at a club in South Africa seems a much better bet. Ask your skipper.

"I made a mistake, that's what it comes down to. The friends that I was with were not massively close friends, to be honest, and they took me to the bar. I realise it was inappropriate and I'm disappointed with myself."

Anyways, so why would Yuvi take s***? And then like a Primary School kid, you rushed off to your fielding position, and let the umpire take control. Just like a Primary Kid as I said, pinches the neighbour and complains to the Headmaster against him. And then runs off. How could you do that?

A certain Gabbar would have said, iski sazaa milegi, barabar milegi.

There was no Gabbar obviously, but you forgot, there was Yuvi. A fired up Yuvi, who had also lost out in a recent race. A race he seemed to be almost leading till recently, when Dhoni pipped him at the post.

So much pent up anger. It had to come out some place, on some one. And, you were a catalyst. A quick check in the Thesaurus reveals that catalysts are substances that participate in reactions but are neither reactants nor products of the reaction they catalyze. You got nothing out of it, nor did you lose anything.

Your team did.

You could have gone upto Yuvi and apologized after the third six. That is like 18 runs still to be made, and you lost the match by 18 runs. Well, England did anyways. You could have saved your team.

You chose to chew your gum instead. And grin, like a school brat sucking on a lollypop. Actually lollypops may just be better for you than getting involved with alcohol yet again. Lest, instead of drowning your sorrows, you end up drowning yourself. Like you almost did some months back. Remember? Hope you do, because, that time, the same was done to you, what you had done to yourself on that sultry Mumbai evening. Stripped. You were stripped of all decision making rights.

And talking of decisions, I wonder who made the decision of playing you in this dead rubber. Despite your injuries. Thought you were being brave eh? A High School phrase said that Discretion is a better part of valor. Didn’t you learn that? Or for that matter, did you learn your tables? History? I am sure you did not. Because had you done it, you would have known that Hitler suffered from a bad tooth ache and still ended up waging a war. And, like you did today, he lost. Miserably.

It’s time you learnt Freddie. Any ways, it does not matter if you don’t. I still love your freckles. And the way you hold your bat. And the way you smile despite all what is going around you. Despite not realizing that Ashes 2005 is already two years old, it is gone. Ashes 2006-07 has also come and gone and you lost, err, your team lost 5-0. They kicked ass. Yours. But no, I still like you. You got a strong one. Ass. You are the best all rounders amongst those who are injured. Serious.

And yeah, if you didn’t notice, your country was the first to introduce Twenty20, were favourites and all. You lost all your matches in the second round. Stop removing your shirt or writing silly stuff that you write in your book about others, and other countries. Because, if bullet pellets do hit you sometime (as you so proudly proclaim could have), you would not be brave enough to take field. School’s over, it is time you graduated. To a more matured adult.

But I still like you. At least you are better than Joginder Sharma, who can neither bowl nor bat, but is there in the team. You at least talk. He felt so awe-stuck today, that even a guy-in-new-love would have felt ashamed. At least you don’t. Or at least I hope you don’t.

Ganesh Chaturthi's being celebrated across India. I will pray for you. Because I like you. Surely. Or at least I think I do.

'Faithfully' Yours,
Me.

P.S. I was one those few lucky souls who saw you strip and play 'catch-me-if-you-can' with your team mates in Wankhede. I really wished I could join them. I would have caught up easily. Or at least I think I would have.

The same letter is also posted at iSport's website.
You can also find the rest of the posts there.

Too much!

Bloody Bull I say!

Some bull this is, raging and waging a war against the bear. Freeing itself out of some of it's inhibitions at the back of a steroid-pumping exercise.

Working hard.

Partying hard-ly!

Touching new highs.

Bringing a smile on the faces of it's masters.

Bloody Bull! Way to go!

Some day yesterday!

It was supposed to be a quite little day, yesterday. Food and 'attempt-at-studies'. And more of the second alternative.

Then I get a call, asking me to brace myself to be a part of a CNBC show.

I refuse. Two reasons.

a. Exam tomorrow, and I was supposed to report to their studio.

b. I have not had a hair cut in days. Probably months. And I was going to come on TV. And they dont allow caps.

Dreams out of the window. Dreams to those 1o seconds of fame. Dreams to meet Mitali. Dreams to shake hands with Tanveer. Dreams to dream further.

Then I get another call. More precisely, a mail. A mail which, under reel-like life conditions would have been epoch setting. I call up the person-in-question. Person reiterates the potential offer. I cannot even go on writing this, life may change if I accept it.

I refuse. No reasons. It hurts. Ouch I say.

Third one. Meet a friend online. Congrats she says. I ask why.

She gives me the reason. I want to reject this as well. I will. When the time comes.

Loads of reasons. None that I can mention here. Family Blog and all that. Naah, not really, just too bored.

3 Offers made in a day. 3 offers rejected in a day.

And they say "Beggars cannot be chosers"

A Link to Dravid's Captaincy

So, the inevitable has happened. Rahul Dravid has decided to drop in his pink slip, thus causing a minor tremor of sorts in Indian Cricket.

Around ten days ago, I had written an assessment of Dravid's captaincy, and wished he improved in tactics. I had also pointed out on how his captaincy seems to be affecting his Test Batting form.

Here is the link to that one: Rahul Dravid's Captaincy

Do leave your comments and reviews on what you think about the same. And let me know who you expect next in line as the captain.

Uncle Sam asks...

Intricate, thoughtful Question (courtsey Sameer aka Sam, in his exact words): WHY do u need a damned wicketkeeper for a f*****g Bowl-Out ?(we are talking twenty20 here)

Irrational, unnecessary answer - I: Because, wicket keepers traditionally remain behind the wickets and not in front of it.

Irrational, unnecessary answer - II: Because, wicketkeepers' role is not to 'keep' the wickets at home, but something else.

Irrational, unnecessary answer - III: So that the ball does not get lost. Because if the ball does not hit the stumps, it would go away to the boundary, who would fetch it? If you remember, dogs are not allowed inside the playing arena.

Irrational, unnecessary answer - IV: Because one cannot expect the umpire or the match refree in their tie and shirts to remain behind the wickets.

Irrational, unnecessary answer - V: Stupid question, next you would ask, why do we need green grass for the field, why can't we play on hay or concrete or even glass? Or why is it called lambda and not Sam-bda? Or why does Rakhee Sawant behave the way she does? Or why does Britney Spears not appear in K-serials instead. Is there an end to the questions? It's better that you get out of that "Tell Me Why"? mode. Grow up.

Any other answers are welcome.

the end

the end was near, unknown to the exact minute, but near, all the same.

some things had lost perspective. most had.

so had people. people who detested, some who did not.

people whom he loathed. others that he did not.

it did not matter any more. it never should have in the first place.

now it had all become clear. it was all chugging to a stop.

soon. very soon.

one last time he wanted to embrace everyone. hug 'em tight.

he knew he would not. he could not.

the clock ticked away.

he wished it would stop. the clock.

the clock just ticked away.

Long time, no see!

It has been quite some time since I wrote here, and very frankly, had no inclination to do so tonight either. For that matter, am racing against time too (and it is lots more fun that ways). But a classmate reminded me of how she gets updates on my life from my blog, and so, could not help but take a peep here. The last fortnight or so, after the Chandigarh soujorn that is, has been pretty eventful, and that is stating the least. The obvious.

For a change, cricket has hogged the limelight, and I say 'for a change' because, it has been some time since that happened. And for a change, because, it has not been normal cricket viewing, it has been something 'beyond'. It has been exciting, and it...Oh well, more of it when it actually works out. Watch this space, and if not this, then get to http://www.isport.in/ to watch more!(that's promoting both my blog and the website I write for! Marketing gyaan aint going waste!)

Apart from that, it is that time of the trimester, when the grey cells have suddenly to be used. To tell the hands and the eyes to co-ordinate to copy and paste data for the presentations that need to be made! And then one's got the exams overhead. Which ain't a problem by itself, but then it also means that one needs to open those books which one hasn't for a long time.

Which means that one needs to buy the books that need to be opened after a long time.

Which basically means a waste of time, money and energy. Yawnnn!

On personal front, it has been very relaxed and chilled out. The few ghosts of yesterday have vanished (yesterday boley toh, the past, nothing happened yesterday), into the thin air. And even when a couple of them make their presence felt, it is as easy as swatting flies, to get rid of them. The ghosts I mean. These ghosts are more of the Ramsay-made kinds, rather than Exorcist. Funny ones. Try to scare you, but one cannot help smile at 'em. Unfortunately, they ain't Casper like.

Now I am going round and round!

And yes, the last couple of days, I have experienced two different instances of very not-so-adultish behaviours from a couple of people. In fact, very surprisingly and coincidentally, both the people are totally unrelated to each other, and both have done things that I remember doing when I was eight. Yes, I actually did such stuff at that age, but now? Funny that I actually remembered what I had done then, in comparison with this.

God, give me a break, surely you exist!

And yeah, here is one pic that I wanted to put up, a bright, blood red coloured cap, first of it's kind that I own! Hope it does not follow the previous 'good' ones I had!




P.S. I like the contrast between the shirt and the cap, what more should I do to get into Bollywood maaan!

Writing for a new website...

Hey guys,

I have started writing on cricket for a website www.isport.in

Please get there, and start reading and commenting on the same. Now, for people who do not enjoy cricket too much, do give me feedback on the style of writing and all.

For people who do enjoy cricket, do let me know what you think of the same.

And yeah, as expected, I would be writing on only Cricket!

Some of them are http://isport.in/content/view/55/57/ and http://isport.in/content/view/66/57/

Last but not the least, I would continue writing with the non-cricketing stuff on this blog!

...and the realization dawns upon me

It is on days like these, when the diamonds get separated from the rest.

There are only those many true pearls, the rest of 'em are fake.

Unfortunately, one ends up taking them to be replacements for the real ones.

It is on days like these, when I repent being a bad judge of people, repent the bloody waste of time.

It is one days like these when any self doubts about the strong-headed decisions taken by me, vanish.

An amazing day, beyond words, would never be able to do justice with my limited vocabulary. So, I will not even try.

Pictures tell a thousand stories. These do not even say ten.



Only wish the rest were there as well.

The Day.

What a start to the day. Watch India get beaten by England, till 3 in the night. Morning. Or whatever.

Then, need to set the alarm for 7, to get to college. With an unusually high adrenaline rush, and that too after an Indian loss, do not sleep till about 4.

I get woken only by Peeya's frantic phone calls, 4th or the 5th attempt she tells me. By then, the lecture would have passed the 'attendance' calling threshold. No point in waking up.

Ever since waking up, have heard Chak De India songs over and over again. No, I ain't disappointed at India's loss. I am beyond that for years now, it is just that I had downloaded the same yesterday, so, am behaving a bit like a kiddo who's got his first toy. Still reeling under the lack of last night's sleep.

Today, market's done well so far, Mithali Mukherjee's looking better than ever, Warne's as controversial as ever, me's making plans for the evening which are soon going to come undone surely, am planning to open some Management Text Books, something I haven't done for 4 months now. But at least I am thinking in the right direction. Managers are required to think. Execution can be left for others...

Surely. Yawn.

M + Ba --> MBA Degree + Gas (lots of it)

They say that MBA is gas. Agreed. No doubt.

Today, I experienced something else. Not only was the intrinsic value of the previous statement reaffirmed, but, I also realised that there was a wholesome attempt made, to teach us how to gas as well.

How to fill in 50 Power Point slides when the material would last only 5.

How to conjure up a 100 page document when the content could be explained in only 18.

Unfortunately, I cannot show off too much of my guts here, and so would give a parallel analogy instead.

Question: If you want to shop for a shirt, what would you do?

Ideal, non gassy, non faffy reply: I would look at my size, get to a shirt retail outlet, choose the colour that I like, try on some of the shirts, and continue this process till I like one.

More than ideal, MBA like, gassy, faffy, chaffy, ready-to-confuse reply: I would get up in the morning. Yawn. Sleep back because it is still only 9 a.m. Wake up at 10. Switch on the Television to check out the stock market on CNBC TV 18. Realise that the market's not doing well. Will utter a quick prayer and ensure that the market goes up. This will ensure that I make some money. Would wait till the market condition improves, and I make some profits. Will then withdraw those profits from the near by ICICI ATM. If I do not get an ICICI ATM, I will make a contingency plan and get to another ATM and withdraw the profits made.

Once I have the money on me, I will get back home to have food. This food wont be bought from the money I just withdrew. This would be made by mum. I like home food. just awesome. Yeah, and then I would decide that I am too sleepy to shop, obviously with such heavy food. I will sleep. Wake up in the evening and decide to go shopping next day for my shirt. No wait, I have a change of heart. I would go today because a friend has decided to accompany me. She wants to buy a set of ear rings from the Linking Road Market and I could help her with my bargaining skills. Get her the ear rings for eight bucks instead of 10. We get to the first guy. He does not sell ear rings, he sells hair bands. She buys the hair bands. Then it is the turn of the spaghetti tops. Then to the McDonald's nearby where we gobble up a couple of burgers. We finish off her "ear rings" shopping. Then I decide to call it day, because I am tired. I will anwer the question you asked, next time.

Got the gist? Could have easily taken another couple of thousand words to answer the question but decided to condense it. In turn I also taught you how to show that you are an MBA graduate.

No doubt the papers these days say that the education sector has a great scope in India.

Damn...!

No Longer can I pull people-who-are-26's leg.

Saddest day of my life.

Waiting for another member to join the club. Soon. Very soon!

Chandigarh. And a little bit of Delhi.

Long long time since this one came, but the break from blogger was pretty much unavoidable. Time was a constraint, but there were other issues to mull about. Not the negative conotations associated with the word 'issue', but, issue in it's true form, i.e. things to be taken care of!

And before I begin with where I have been hiding all these days, I would like to wish my sweetheart a very Happy Birthday! Hopefully, you would get all what you what (including a great brunch at Taj, and all the stuff you expect from the post today!)

Now, coming back to me, I had an awesome Chandigarh and Delhi visit, more so Chandigarh, simply because Delhi is not a place that I really enjoy a lot. The reasons could be more pyschological than anything else, but....! But Chandigarh, it is a different kettle of fish altogether. For starters, it seems to be a very planned city. Now, Gurgaon (that I also visited during my Delhi rendezvous) is also said to be a planned foray, but it is also a clear cut spillover of Delhi into Gurgaon, and that seems to dilute the presence of the latter.

Not so with Chandigarh yet. One look at the roads and more importantly, the road sides, would make you fall in love with this place. Again. And again. Add to that the fact the traffic on the road is so thin (especially for someone who has lived all his life in Mumbai), that it may end up giving Hrishita Bhatt a complex. Serious. The same distance between my home and my college (in Mumbai), that takes me around forty minutes, would get done in 12 minutes. On a Kinetic, that was allowed to travel at an average speed of 30 odd kilometers every hour.

The drastic difference of time can be attributed to the number of sped-breakers that Mumbai faces. Natural or Man made. Not a road bump, not a signal that lasts more than 30 seconds, no sign of civilians appearing from nowhere, trying to cross the road, nothing to break the speeds!

That said, I do not know whether I would be able to really settle down in such a place. A place where noise is so conspicous by it's absence, a place where the hassles of travelling are virtually non existent (though public transport here, like that in Delhi, sucks) and a city that does not have a bowling alley. Err...well, not quite the last point. But yeah, on a more serious note a place where you would end up getting that feeling that you on a vacation. Almost always!

And then came the weather. Picture this conversation. I am about to leave for Chandigarh.

Mum: You taking your windcheater along. Isnt it Monsoon there?

Me(scoffs): Yeah, in a place where the definition of Monsoon is - It rained for exactly three minutes and then a dry spell that lasts three days. No ways am I stuffing that thing in my bag.

Mum: Ok, your wish.

Have reached Delhi enroute Chandigarh. Stop over at the station itself for a couple of hours.

Waiting for the next train.

I always thought that Mumbai had won the patent rights for dishing out humidity to it's inhabitants. Little had I realised that Delhi was pirating the same too. One trip to the enquiry counter and two trips across the lengths of the platform, and suddenly, I was sweating like it's just rained just above me. Only me. Terrific. Heard it could only get worse in Chandigarh.

Tol' ya mum!

Reach Chandigarh. Scenes have changed damatically. It is cloudy. As cloudy as it gets in Mumbai. Ask Peeya a little apprehensively about the possibility of rains. She scoffs at me.

"It does not rain for more than a couple of minutes."

I stay in Chandigarh for six days. The first three record the highest rainfall that the city has seen for a long time. For many many years. I get drenched over and over again.

Because I have no wind cheater.

Because mums are always right.

Or most of the time.

The fourth day is spent in the hotel room. More specifically, in the bed, with a device that reads the temperature in my mouth, a crocin and a few biscuits next to the bed, and a bed sheet and a blanket covering me so that I am barely visible to an outsider.

Somehow, the situation changes drastically in the next two days that follow. It is as sunny as it was cloudy some days back. Vagaries of nature seemed as moody as a lot of people back home.

And then I go to Delhi. More on that trip in the next one!

Here I go!

The last time, I got out of town, on my own (money, as well as alone), was long ago. Ages have elapsed. Tomorrow gives me one such opportunity. To get away from here.

As I always believe in, people change. Subtly over the period of time, but they do. For good, and some times, for not-so-good. I have changed, and I would like to dwell on the good section of the change. I have become a more not-so-reluctant traveller. In fact, I have started to relish and cherish the trips, and enjoy the actual process of commuting (out of Mumbai obviously!) much more. And credit given where it is due, this change was brought about by some of the close Mastek guys, who almost went upto the extent of threatening me about cancelling all the ICC organised cricket that year. Not that drastic, but something similar, and unprintable. You get the gist, right?

So, this time it is a new place. And from what I hear from a couple of people, it is an awesome place to visit, and very unlike Mumbai. Well, for argument sake, which city could be similar to Mumbai? The last I heard was that Shanghai was making full preparations to rename it to something else. They were very terrified after our respected Chief Minister decided to change Mumbai to Shanghai. Serious. Or am I imagining stuff?

Coming back, I am looking forward to the journey. The train journey, I mean. And the only reason for that is the food that's continuously served on it. I have already decided to fast. Twenty four hours before hand. Well, there are other reasons as well. One of them(and I just hope someone does not smash me to smithereens), is that one can befriend fellow passengers. Talk. Pass one's time, following someone else's interesting life. And if it is a good looking lady, much better. Now now, wait. Before I get mauled here, let me first talk about probabilities. I must have travelled in the same manner tons of times. Not once has it happened. Not frikking once? So, rest assured, History may end up repeating itself. Lightning would strike the same place twice, thrice and many more times.

And I would end up talking to a couple of guys, who work in some Movie Post-production firm in Mumbai, who would be going to the capital on a business meeting. And then, I would be royally regaled by their tales on how one of them spoke to Bipasha Basu in their office, when she was in a white starched shirt and black trousers, and not a trace of make up on her face. And that only accentuated the fact that she was really going through a rough time with John Abraham. Yeah, you guessed it right, it happened the last time I travelled.

How very interesting. Very very. Ain't it?

Anyways, so that is one, the other is the return journey. Nothing much different, except that the train name changes from Rajdhaani to a certain Garib Rath. And just as the name suggests, takes the same time to reach Mumbai as the former, at less than half it's price. Hence, it is Poorly branded as Garib Rath. As if calling the poor as poor wasn't bad enough, now you call the not-so-poors' train as one Garib Rath as well. But, if we leave aside the Marketing aspect of the whole thing, and get into the Financials, I wonder what sustains it? And as far as I know, there is hardly any difference in the volume of the passengers that use the two aforesaid mentioned trains. So, how does Mr. Laloo Prasad make up for the fare slash?

Now, since I have covered both the journies, one would naturally expect me to talk about what the plans there are? Well, for that, I would need to put 'em here after the same is done. After the plans are made. Till then, I would try to keep updating the blog whenever I can, and whenever I get the opportunity to do so, from Delhi/Chandigarh.

That's it for now, for some time as well, I guess. Hope to write soon.

P.S. Yet to get my tickets printed. So, if I do write here tomorrow again, you would be right in guessing that I missed my train. You would also be right in guessing that it's my ghost writing, because by then, I would have been shot dead by someone.