Bye bye Gilli :-)

Could have easily put this one on my other blog; the cricket one.

But Adam Gilchrist is much more than just your normal cricketer. And I would just want to salute a great man, an amazing human being and one of the best cricketers and the Bradman of 'keepers.

Salute the cleanest amongst the 'ugly Aussies'.

Salute the man for the pure delight and pleasure he provider to many a fans.

Salute the grace with which he conducted himself.

We shall miss you. Surely.

The above is when Gilchrist announced himself to the world, with an amazing, back-to-the-wall effort against Pakistan at Hobart in 1999.

And this is the last time he gets out onto a cricket field in a Test. Wonder what it feels like, when it ends.

Anything that is close to heart.

Last day and cold, cold Mumbai.

Had been wanting to post this and get it out of the system.


The moment has passed now. But still.


I am done with that evil called class examinations. Below are couple of my pictures from the last day, a quietly memorable one.

This one was taken just a minute before I left for the exam. Naah, I am not that stone faced. Its just that it was 25th January, the second day of the 4th Test, had woken up at 5.30 in the morning. This was around 10ish, I was zonked, zleepy and zacked.

And I had an exam to take. What can one expect.

This one was at a dinner with Priyesh and Sankalp. No, don't get fooled by their attire, it wasn't the Arctic, where we had our meal. It was a chilly evening in Mumbai itself.

Me on the other hand, was 'warming up' without anything but a tee, for my excursion to Chandigarh. I am not sure though, whether warming up would be the right phrase, where I hear that the temperature's decided to nose dive and send people's noses running. Bad Joke.

And that brings me to Mumbai's temperature. Time to eat my words.

Long time back, a friend, who had been bearing the Mumbai heat for some months got fed up, and asked me in utter exasperation. When do you guys have winter?

I looked blankly at my friend and said, "Winter in Mumbai is defined as that season when you sweat lesser than Summer."

This could be termed true of this city for a long time now, where Winters and cold made only a fleeting presence. This time it is totally different. The last I heard was that the mercury had come closest to touching ground in forty five years. 10. point something.

Surprises never cease. I wonder whether global warming had anything to do with it, probably it could be rechristened as Global Cooling, especially for Mumbaikars. Second Bad Joke of the post.

Need to end this here and now.

Tagged!

Anjuli 'Demon' tagged me.

Instructions:Remove 1 question from below, and add in your personal question, make it a total of 20 questions, then tag 8 people in your list, list them out at the end of this post. Notify them in their chat box that he/she has been tagged.

1. Name Three Most Valuable Assets?
The biggest asset would no doubt be my family, and this would not dawn upon me in totality ever, except when the spoon feeding stops. Then comes Peeya; she's been a constant, irrespective. The third, and some would be surprised that I have put it at as low as this, is cricket. It's an obsession, and much more.

2. If you have the chance, what would you probably say to your beloved one?
If I had a chance? Why the if? I have all the chances, and I take 'em!

3. If you were to be stranded on a desert island, who are the 3 blog buddies you would take with you?
I did not realise that there's something actually termed as a desert island, until I searched it out. Getting back to the question, I would much rather take real life buddies to a place that evokes the feeling of having got absolutely lost.

4.Where is the place that you want to go the most?
1. MCG 2. Lord's 3. Eden Gardens

5.If you can have 1 dream to come true, what would it be?
Be born with a cricket bat in my mouth...er...hand. Not that I am a good cricketer, but that in turn would have made my entry into the commentary box much easier. Or much more possible.

6.Till now, what is the moment that you regret the most?
Naah, life goes on irrespective. None.

7.What are you afraid to lose the most?
The top two of my first answer

8.What would you do if you found a briefcase full of money?
Open it.

9.If you meet someone that you love, would you confess to him/her?
I do it daily!

10.List out 3 good points of the person who tagged you...
Underratedly Smart, good blogger, will think about the third point later.

11. What are the requirements that you wish from your other half?
Be yourself, be there all the time.

12.Which type of person do you hate the most?
There's a breed of people, who directly or indirectly, try to seek people's attention around, much more than a normal person. More than the word 'hate' I would use the word 'irritating' here.

13.What is your ambition?
Lambi aur thodi complicated kahaani hai. For now, to get done with my MBA, and get on with my job.

14.What is the thing that will make you think someone is a bad person?
:P :P :P A man's not bown bad, it's the society that makes him bad :P :P :P Had just heard it somewhere again recently!

15.Christmas is coming, who do you like to celebrate with?
It is exactly 11 months away and as it is I don't celebrate too many festivals.

16.If you could do one thing different in life, what would it be?
Probably been more serious about my cricket as a kid. But I can live with my current life as well!

17.Are you a shopaholic or no?
I cannot term myself that, but am a reasonable company for shopping, I guess, more patient that many :-)

18.What is your stress buster? Cricket

19. What should be done to people who make such long tags?
Kuchh bhi bola toh bolegi "Wait Suneer, tu pitega" what's the use! :)

20. Kuch Log Balti Hote Hai Aur Balti Nahi deti Jawaab; So DON’T BE A BALTI, log on to ibibo.com. Are they saying that by logging onto that site, one ceases to be a balti, thus losing on one's capability to hold water?
I have no answer to that one.

People I have tagged: Peeya, Anjuli, Natasha, Eva, Nitin, Santosh (again?!), Prajakta, Liesha

ek do teen chaar....bandh karo yeh atyaachaar

some find it nostalgic. others find it a good riddance.

people like me.

last paper tomorrow. strategic management. 2 years of mba and now we are being told about it. about strategic mgt. it seems. my attendance for this one was 2 classes out of a possible 10. i came for the first one. and then for a presentation, the last one.

anyways.

that is that. and that is asuming i pass all exams, that should be the end of that.

last exam for a long long time i think. probably forever. bloody good riddance.

exams have always been a pain in you-know-where. especially for me. lost my touch with studying for a purpose as vital as this.

filling up supplements. so it was 6 for the most unreasonable and ridiculous subjects of all.

they call it economics.

where assumptions invade the recesses of one's mind like none other. every assumption has a zillion further asumptions. half one's answer sheet is filled with these zillion and one assumptions. which in a way is good, because otherwise i have no clue what i would have written. atleast writing assumptions makes you feel good and brainy. not that im not.

but still.

another subject i couldnt fathom was statistics. no, dont get me wrong. i like maths and all. i can boast of my scores in maths never leaving the vicinity of a 99% in any of my exams. but statistics in here is equivalent to eating as many numbers as one could in a span of 6 hours before the exam and then vomitting it out.

question bank of 100 odd questions in stats. learn all the answers. you score a cent percent. else you are a two point someone like me.

the story is pretty much the same with many electives in many of the trimesters.

another one. beyond erp. which is alrite, till you realise that before you go beyond yonderness, you havent had a subject called erp. but the good thing is again, anything inexplicable in the subject could be attributed to it being beyond.

beyond the scope of the syllabus that is.

they call it mba.

and they are nostalgic about the end of the same. as if they would have loved the same to continue for the next 24 years. or 124 for that matter.

my foot. bloody bull.

good riddance i tell you.

Uncle Sam bhaiyya...

Ouch! Pain returns. I feel the twinge too.

But with pain, comes an opportunity. It surely does. It surely has.

I can now invest the rest of the money in the market. Whatever remains of my savings from Mastek. And Siemens. Most of it is gone in this MBA, but I can say it wasn't spent - read wasted - on 'extracurricular activities', if you know what you mean.

But getting back to the market, I have developed a sense of resentment for Uncle Sam. Anything that affects Uncle, affects us. In that resentment, there is a sense of respect - and I know this may trigger off a sense, about feeling inferior to the goras, but the fact is, for years now, that has been the truth. A minor blip of recession in that market has meant an amplified waveform of trouble everywhere across.


Which is not to say that US has no problems of its own, it may have some more than most of the other countries. And yet, it surviving, alive and kicking. And kicking real hard. It aint crumbling, it aint facing no crisis that it can't handle.

Hmmm...probably it is only that I am too overcome with lack of slumber, coupled with the reduction of my portfolio to 3/4ths of what it could have been, had I sold off three days back.

But then, it wouldn't have been a portfolio had I sold off, would it?


The fall of May 2006

Marketing? Naaaaaah....

I wouldnt be lying if I called myself a fake Marketing guy.

And never did I expect to be working as a sales guy in the wildest of my dreams. And enjoy it as well.

I am.

Idea Time!

Yesterday I realised what joy and ecstasy, Archimedes would have gone through, when he cried out his now-famous word 'Eureka', after he had found the solution to his problem...incidentally while he was undergoing his madatory redezvous with his hamam. And that is because, yesterday, I think I found a theoretical solution to a long standing problem.

It would be sometime before I am able to apply the theory to practice, but it gave me an almost Archimedes like joy, when the same struck. Difference was that I did not scream, nor did I run nude, and nor was I bathing.

Instead I was in that stage, when one is in the bed, not quite asleep, but a minute or so before losing consciousness and entering the 'other world'.

And now as I think back, I think I have the reason to shout out 'Eureka' for another reason. It seems that I also found my best time of the day, the time when I get unusual, but effective ideas to see through an issue, or add value to an already existing deal. As I said, this is not the first time it has happened.

The only unfortunate part in this is, that those 30-60 seconds before I completely doze off, is too short a time, to dvelop the idea totally, and to add to it, there is a huge scope for the idea to pass through the brain without registering. Thus I run the risk of losing it, the idea that is.

Anyone else who has experienced such a weird time - I have heard of toilet seats, outstation trains etc earlier - could do well to share the same!

I think it was Dr. Manmohan Singh who had once remarked that, quoted Victor Hugo, "No power on earth can stop an idea whose time has come." I don't really know whether it applies to such times as well, sixty seconds before one dozes off!

Matter of time

There are days which you dread, days you know you could do without, and you know that before hand. The only option then, is to grit your teeth, endure the mental agony, and try to immunise oneself from the scenario, till it passes. Whenever it passes.

There have been days when I haven't been able to achieve this. There have been others when I have been oblivious to it all. But being bull headed is obviously not an easy task at the best of times, and at adverse occasions like these, it becomes even tougher.

The toughest test of endurance arises when it is an abyss, a chasm, that one is staring into. It may last for eternity. It may not. But the wait continues. And waiting for the same to conclude, without knowing when. Some give in very early, some do not. Some still end up losing after not giving up early, and some endure to pass out the time - which they know is going to be long - knowing very well that come what may, they have nothing in it for them.

My gritting has begun. I shall see through this one I am sure. Its the matter of time.

Just some time.

Services at 6 p.m., I write this at 4!

So here are the exams.

Not just any ordinary ones, but a unique set of eight papers, ones that would, or probably should, go down in the history of my exam writing.

Simply because they are the last set of exams, I - hopefully - take in my studying career.

After this, there is no looking back, no studies per se, only work, and more work.

I am already bored with these exams. Hopefully I should be able to see through them like an opener sees through the new ball. Or the audience see through Kareena Kapoor, Rakhee Sawant or any such other good actors on television, movie halls or JW Marriot. Or wherever.

And talking of openers - and cricket - Bhajji's suspension has upset everyone, but Ponting has said that the game was being played "in the 'spirit' of the game". I think that Ponting was under the influence of 'spirits' - that the post match celebrations would have afforded him - when he said this. I give him the benefit of doubt.

And then there was the small matter of Symonds going to Mamma Bucknor to complain, "Mummy mummy, that sardar is calling me a monkey." Mamma Bucknor then goes to Pappa Procter and complains Bhajji's folly. Pappa raps Harbhajan's knuckles. That should teach you Bhajji. How could you 'abuse' kids? Khelne do unko. Have they ever bothered you?

Then comes another man Benson and asks Ponting whether they had caught the ball? He said yes. What's Ponting's fault? He only meant that he caught the ball off the first bounce, Benson hadn't clarified. Fully exonerated according to me.

But on a more serious note, I think one thing could be added to this. To avoid confusion, instead of asking only the fielder or the batsmen, the umpire should ask the viewing audience.

"Aapke saamne hain Umpire Benson, aur woh is duvidha may fas gaye hain. Aapke paas do options hain, out ya notout. Voting pads aapke saamne hain, aur out dene ke liye type karein OUT aur bhej dein 57777 pe. Notout ke liye, NO 57777 pe. Aapka samay shuru hota hai ab."

And then based on the poll result decide the verdict.

On a very serious note, the third umpire could be referred to. As someone said, he does not get paid to eat sandwiches in the air conditioned rooms.

The best line I heard was this one "There is one reason why cleaning sewage pipes, wiping one's rectal orifice and playing cricket in Australia can all be referred to as attending to things Down Under".

The verbose Sidhu came up with a close second, "Bucknor is as insensitive to Indian appeals as the tilet seat." Poor poor Bucknor, he may need to approach Dravid for some lorenze drops now. Err...because he needs medicine. Whatever.

Aisa mere saath hi kyon hota hai?

So the head's churning away and the eye balls beckon each other to get out of the sockets, like a rocket that counts it way down, to get out of the orbit. The senses are still trying to attune themselves to the externals.

They fail miserably.

What a hangover-of-sorts from yesternight. Minus the alcohol that is.

But the seeds of this current predicament had ben sown from the 31st night itself, when sleep was obviously at a premium. 2 hours only.

The next night saw me snooze for 3 and it seemed to get better with just under four hours day before. Why one may ask.

Match and all at five. Why was the word 'obssession' ever coined. That has rubbed onto Sam as well these days, who cannot stop raving and ranting about the game. But that is a story for another day.

But just as one thought that algebraic progession would logically see me sleep for a period of five hours, lightening stuck. Or rather, in my mind.

2 presentations to be made, beginning to end. Starting 6 p.m. yesterday. Would have been done by 12 had I had no dinner.

Would have been 1 with dinner.

And 3.30 with a phone conversation that lasts two and a half hours. Of all the nights, yesterday.

And lest one forgets, a reiteration of the fact that Ganguly and Sachin Tendulkar were going to get to bat at the wee hours of the morning again, 5 a.m. to be precise. How could I not respect them. How, tell me how?

Let's spice it up further. Unlike the Mumbai mercury which surprised everyone by it's special fantasy towards gravity last week, my temperature shot up to a shocking 101. All of a sudden. For no plausible rhyme, or a reason. So two crocins popped, and back to work. Err...to the phone call.

By the time, the phone convo. ended, the ppt finished and the crocin had started taking it's effect, it was just an hour and a half to go. For the Ganguly-Tendulkar show. Remember?

And for people who did not major in biology - like me - or for that matter zoology or botany, or to whichever branch of -ogies that it belong, a higher dose of crocin ensured that the hangover I spoke about, was just around the corner. For small measure, the fever had ceased to exist.

It still is. The hangover that is.

So, to summarize, I finish my work at 3, I have a temperature running - and so is my nose - the crocin is seducing me to the bed like Rakhee Sawant cajoles everyone to put the mute on. Or for that matter, Navjot Sidhu (now, why did I not think of the Sidhu analogy earlier than Rakhee Sawant), and like a tug-of-war match, Star Cricket does the same to me. Seduces me to set the alarm for five.

One hour is the max. I close my eyes, before I am in front of the telly. Bleary eyed. But fortunately, with a lot of positive energy flowing. Unfortunately, out of me.

I was soon left energyless.

And I had a ppt at 9. The rest of the match missed. Gone. Tendulkar's ton, Bhajji's antics and the fightback of the team. All missed. For something constructive on environmental management. ISO 14001 it said. Why on earth should that matter when Tendulkar is blazing away towards his ton.

Crazy I tell you.

But tomorow is another morning. No more crocins or ppts. No more phone convos.

No more nothings.

Just me, my cricket and tanhaayee. Not quite the third one, but it sounded good. That's why put.

The head, by the way, is still churning. The bed beckons yet.

New Year pic...contd.

Here's another photo, us.

Time: 3 a.m.

Venue: CCD, Chowpatty.

Who: (From left to right): Samarth, Me, Reena (trying desperately to peek through Samarth's head, like the Sun from the horizon, or Yuvraj from Tendulkar's shadow...whatever that means), Deep, Tanmay, Protik, Setu, Maulik and PJ.

Why: The Dance tired us all. All of fifteen minutes of it. Come here to relax with a coffee and cookies.

The moment: The waiter clicks the picture and tells us, "Photography is not allowed in this CCD." Huh?

Resolution...yawn.

Generally, I do make resolutions. I mean, new year or not, I do make a resolution about something - it does not matter when.

This time, I decided to coincide one with the New Year. So that I could compete with those who had New Year resolutions. And answer those who asked me the same question.

A week back, I decided to stop being lazy, at least for the year 2008.

Then I realised that it is difficult to foresee the future, and an year was too long a time to look into. So I deliberated.

Finally I decided to go for it.

So wrote this.

Actually was supposed to three days ago. But was feeling too lazy earlier.

But that's ok, my resolution only begans after I post this, so one last bout of lethargy was allowed.

Ab se kuchh nahi haan. Pucca promise.

Us at the New Year's Party

Will post more pictures as and when I get time.