Another Bite for Nadal

Another victory for Rafael Nadal. Now, anyone who reads my posts will realize that I am an indefatigable fan of Nadal. And yes, I am. Why not? Well, what is sport all about? Spirit, talent, stamina, strength, mental acuity and most of all steely nerves. And according to me, Nadal is 'controlled agression' in tennis. Attitude - Amazing.

A note in the Miami Herald after the dude won the medal
Rafael Nadal's eyes glistened when the Spanish flag billowed above the flagpole. He swallowed hard as "La March Real" played in the Olympic Green Tennis Center.
They don't do that for you at Wimbledon.
Monday, Nadal officially becomes the No. 1 ranked player in the world. The 22-year-old has reached the pinnacle of his sport through a stunning streak of tour and Grand Slam success.
But what happened to him Sunday - winning a gold medal for Spain, by beating Chile's Fernando Gonzalez in straight sets - was even sweeter.
"To win here, the feeling is a little bit more special," Nadal said. "In tennis, Slams are more important.
"But for the sportsman, the Olympic Games are more important than anything."
At every Olympics since 1988 - when tennis was reintroduced as a medal sport - there's talk that it doesn't belong here. The Olympics are not the sport's most important competition.......

And it's not an easy tournament. It muddies up the schedule. Nadal himself was already unhappy with how compressed the men's schedule was this summer. Then last week, rain delays forced competition late into the night here: Nadal was warming up at midnight for a singles match. After the end of competition Sunday, the players headed to New York for the U.S. Open, which begins one week from today.
But, in truth, the rich and famous tennis players always seem to embrace the experience. Andre Agassi was thrilled to win gold in 1996. Four years ago, Andy Roddick was wrecked when he was eliminated early. In Beijing, Roger Federer - who has always dreamed of an Olympic medal - acted like a giddy kid on Christmas morning when he won the doubles gold for Switzerland. Venus and Serena Williams, who won doubles gold Sunday, are committed to the Olympics and want to play in 2012.
And Nadal completely embraced the Olympic experience.
He marched in the opening ceremony. He stayed at the athletes' village, where he was the most popular athlete. Others skipped the village; Federer tried to stay there but only lasted one night, mobbed everywhere he went. Nadal was also besieged with photo and autograph requests, but he didn't seem to mind. He attributed his success on the court to the experience.
"The reason I won this title," Nadal said, "is because I have a fantastic time here."
Nadal is having a fantastic time everywhere: Paris, London, Beijing. He has won 38 of his past 39 matches, including the French Open and Wimbledon and finals, and now the gold medal. .
When he won the match - dressed in Spain's colors in a red shirt and yellow headband - Nadal fell spread-eagled on his back. When he regained his feet he launched a tennis ball out into the Beijing night as the Spanish fans - whose country is having an epic sports summer - cheered wildly.
Monday, Nadal will end Federer's 237-week reign as the world's No. 1 singles player. Federer has been completely gracious about Nadal's ascendancy.
"That's what I hoped," said Switzerland's flag bearer. "That if somebody were to take it away from me, he would have to play an incredible tennis schedule, win the biggest tournaments, dominate the game, basically. I think Rafa totally deserves it."
Sure, tennis may have more important tournaments. But isn't it great to have such perceptive athletes in the Olympics? Federer's sportsmanship credentials are long-established. Nadal is growing into his role, working on his English, and charmingly willing to participate in give-and-take.
On Sunday Nadal was asked by a reporter from Bangladesh if he felt responsibility to help the sport in underdeveloped countries.
"If Bangladesh wants to do something with me," Nadal offered. "You know my English is not perfect, so it is difficult to express something like this. If I can help with something to Bangladesh, the people just have to tell me and it's going to be a pleasure for me always."
Nadal may have more important tournaments. But he understands what the Olympics are all about.
"When I win here, I feel like I win for all the country," he said. "That's more special, no?
"I win for a lot of people. Not only for me."

I remember an article on the chap, wherein he said that his upbringing is instrumental in making him who he is. It seems Toni, his uncle as well as his coach, told him that the day he'd break a racquet in anger, would be the day his tennis ends... stops! Wow, thank God no one told that to McEnroe, or else we'd have been denied all the fireworks that underlined the tennis of the Borg era! So, Nadal won a gold medal in Olympic tennis - well, I guess he is at the right place at the right time! Wimbledon, French Open, World Number 1 ranking and an Olympic Gold. Can it get better? Flushing Meadows holds the answer.

A sad paradox however is Roger Federer. He tried over and over. But Roland Garros still evades him. He tried over and over. But the singles Olympic Gold eluded him when he was at the top of his game in 2004. He wept. Since he knew the worth of that round yellow medallion. Ask Roberto Baggio what it means to miss in a sport event that comes once every 4 years. Ask Zidane. Ask Federer.... Even the Nadal fan in me wished for a better story here.

These Olympics are all about nerves. A small lapse in concentration and boom... you're out for four years. Take the case of our boxer Akhil Kumar. Someone who could beat a former champion, loses in the next round? Why? Why do all our Indian athletes perform below their personal best at the Olympic stage? I say Indian, since Ms. Isinbayeva does not know how to break another person's world record. She is too busy breaking her own! 25 cms higher than her closest competitor? Wow!!! It all has to do with nerves according to me. The greater the mental power, the greater the sporting success.

So as we celebrate another record filled Olympic games, cheers to Nadal and his indomitable sporting spirit..........

Stop this nonsense

Here we are, celebrating 61 years of independence, and there, in the Kashmir valley, we have separatists flaunting their flags, their dissension and their dissatisfaction at being a part of India! Now, when we need a united India to fight her bigger problems of corruption, inflation, poverty, illiteracy and gender and caste discrimination, here are some people tagging onto the separation agenda. All the time, so many people keep harping, literally that the USP of India is her unity in diversity. So many cultures, so many languages, dialects. India is the bedrock of 3 independent religions - Hinduism, Buddhism and Jainisim. We have embraced all religions and everyone is allowed to practise what they want to, as long as they don't end up being a menace for someone else. Now, in what way is this stance 'not secular'? In what way is the essence of Kashmiris jeopardized here? They seek independence you say? And we have journalists and columnists calling the Kashmiri struggle similar to the Indian struggle against the Raj! Now, does India bleed Kashmir for revenues? Does India milk Kashmir for industrial output and natural resources, and divert all such revenues to other places, leaving Kashmir high and dry, writhing in pain and suffering? Not really. India pumps in a huge amount of money into Kashmir, and prosperity is evident. We have figures that say that Kashmir has the lowest poverty rate in India! Now, I don't really think the Raj did that to India.

The biggest canker in the Indian soul is the politicization of democracy. In the name of democracy, almost everyone is given a free hand. We want to honor the words of everyone. But at what cost? We have Hurriyat leaders who are ostentatiously pro Pakistan. By opening up of the Muzaffarabad highway, we are inviting terrorists through other routes, terrorists who already have a free terrorism visa stamped by ISI and the Pakistan army. And who endorses these views? Politicians, all with their own vote-monging agenda! They have their own personal agenda, and who better supporters than gullible youths, who can quite comfortably be brainwashed into believing what is best for them? The world condemns terrorism, and some people see personal gains in the act. Is democracy and patience justified in condoning such acts? How long should we as a nation brook such nonsense? How many more jawans and majors, true sons of the soil who are sacrificing their lives for the sovereignty of the nation, should we lose? How many more war widows must we create? How many more orphans must we leave in the wake of the J&K issue?

Separation and partisan politics, if it were the solution, 61 years ago, Patel and Nehru wouldn't have embarked on a mammoth mission to integrate the nation. They wouldn't have gone on discussion after discussion with every princely state and whimsical ruler to integrate with India. Today, if we were to acquiesce to the separation requirements of Kashmiris, tomorrow, Punjab will say they want a separate Khalistan. Can we live without our Punjabi and Sardarji brothers? Next, Tamil Nadu will say they want to go their own way. Would we allow that? Forget those states, if Mumbai and Bangalore decide to be independent, fending for themselves, feeding only themselves and protecting their frontiers, without contributing a cent to the center, would J&K, Punjab, AP, Karnataka, MP survive?

A nation is built by unity. Unity in spite of being poles apart. It is a marriage. A marriage of ideologies. A compromise and a willingness to co-exist. If a Hindu-Muslim marriage can survive the odds, in spite of family pressures, why can't a nation full of discerning young people stand up and speak sense to the separatists and the politicians who provide their tacit approval? Why not find a way to live in peace, without bringing religion in the way. If tomorrow the USA were to declare Pakistan a terrorist state and deploy troops all over Pakistan, would Kashmir still want to join Pakistan. And if they were so 'islam-friendly' and 'Indian secularism averse', does Saudi Arabia want them to renounce Kashmir and come over en masse to stay in Saudi Arabia?

I don't speak as a Hindu. I speak as an Indian. I myself have very close friends from all religions. We share our joys, our events and we understand that life is beyond all such petty things as religion, community and hatred! But there is a limit to what India can bear. A limit to her tolerance. She is after all a woman and 'Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned'. So do not speak separation and independence. Prosperity and happiness lie in togetherness and unity. No Jai Kashmir and Jai Madhya Pradesh. But Jai Hind, Jai Bharat - One India at all time.

I am...........

When I was born, my father and my grandfather sent out sweets to every household in the village. For my father, I was his first born, for my grandfather, I was the first born of his first born. I was treated like a prince all through my childhood. My Paati never cared for any other kid but me. I was the apple of her eye, the twinkle of her life. Legend has it that when there was a scare of a thief in the house, Paati picked me up and her box of valuables and went over to the next house, unmindful of what happened elsewhere or to anyone else. I loved the attention. I would always get what I wanted to eat, I could decide to bunk school one day, and would be permitted to do so, just because I was who I was.

As the years went by, I got younger brothers and sisters, cousins, all younger to me. I loved them all. It came to me naturally. I suddenly had a bunch of playmates, who if I wanted, I could bully as well. But somehow, I was always the protective umbrella, shielding them from all harm. My youngest sister is 20 years younger to me. For me, she is and will always be the little doll I saw her like when she was born. Big-eyed and plump. I bought her her first pattu paavadai. I remember a Diwali, when I was to go back to my village from Chennai, and she was waiting anxiously for me to get her her Diwali clothes. My mother kept cajoling her to get something else ready for Diwali, but she had refused. She would wear only what I would bring for her. I got delayed in meetings and I reached my village at 12 at night. I went straight to the tailor and made him stitch the dress all through the night and landed up at home with the dress, all to see that beaming face of my doll.

Even more years passed. My cousin sister realized that she cannot have children, and she came running to me. I went with them to the adoption agency and walked with her through the entire situation. Years later, she loses her husband in a car crash in USA, and she calls me up and asks me poignantly what she should do and how she can raise her kid alone. And I have to take the bold step of telling her to be brave and face life as it comes. I have to be the bolster that supports her through her life. My sister breaks her hand and needs to undergo a surgery. She calls me up saying she is scared. I fly in the next day and sit through the gruelling 6 hr surgery. My cousin brother's wife realizes that her husband is cheating on her, and she calls no one but me, and asks me what to do! And yet again, I need to take a wise decision and help her through her crisis. I have my moments, when I wonder how I should find the strength to absorb everyone's pain and yet be strong enough to support them. I wonder why, the first born is always expected to have the broadest shoulders. I wonder why, everyone looks up to me when they are in pain.

And then I realize, its all because of a promise I had made when I was born. A promise that I was made to make, since I was the first born. A promise that needs me to be superhuman. I am the bolster, the support for my whole family. I am..... the Big Brother.

Happy Independence Day - 61 years of aspiration

Today, 61 years ago, we were freed from the clutches of the British Colonial reign. A momentous achievement indeed for the founders of our nation, who discarded money & a cushy lifestyle, and donned Khadi to be able to live in India ruled by herself. They had stars in their eyes, as they built a nation brick by brick, uniting, educating, employing Indians - Independent sovereign Indians. They dreamt about an India - industrialized, rich, powerful. They dreamt of Indians - united in equality, educated, employed, satisfied, happy.


Today, 61 years later, I am tempted to ask, are we there yet? Are we even a tiny percentage of that yet? Well, not really. We still have discrimination based on caste in the remote rural parts of India. Well, reservation compounds the problem. Reservation is also a form of discrimination, wherein we are embossing the caste divide. We try to wipe out caste differences and the discriminated people try to forget the past, but our vote-mongers cannot allow this to just fade away! Higher education, which has been and will always be our USP as Indians is in serious jeopardy, as we become a politicised population and not a meritocratic population. Female infanticide and foeticide is an evil that looms in remote rural India. Corruption is still sky high. The crude, ugly form. One needs to shell out Rs. 2500 for a Rs 600 activity, in order to feed the corrupt. Our bridges and flyovers take years to get completed. Infrastructure is crippled. Pollution is a threat waiting to raise its ugly head. Terrorists have a field day in India, targeting poor, innocent people, over and over and over again. Inflation is no doubt high as well.


Whew! But then, life is never like driving on an autobahn! We have our issues. But our issues are not as full blown as it is in other countries. Ok, I agree, no comparisons. But well, in 61 years, we have risen from a plundered colony to a future economic superpower. Kudos to Dr Manmohan Singh, who has silently but surely forged India's path to the world. At a time, when India was teetering on debt, we started economic reforms. And now, the Indian railways is the only profit making railway enterprise in the world, in the category of its scale and reach. We still live by our principles. Never once have we made an aggressive move over any other country, but we have succeeded in thwarting 2 such attempts by our 'honorable' neighbors. We are not trailblazers in sport, but we have won some medals. A little nurturing and some time, will take us there. And in all these years, we do have a cricket World Cup, and a T20 World Cup in our fold!


Our strength is in our youth, our people. They, at least most of them aspire to make India proud. One of my friends remarked the other day, that many of his friends in US, who have migrated from India, are open, and sometimes keen to come back, after raking in some moolah. But the same cannot be said of immigrants from say China, or anywhere in Africa. They seemed to have run away, since they could not stand the crime and human rights violations. So, our super educated youth, with a will and a wish, are not averse to coming back and building India. And I have to conclude with one of my favorite lines from one of my favorite movies - Shawshank Redemption - "Hope is a good thing. Maybe one of the best things. And a good thing never dies." JAI HIND!

Independence day - A moment for a memory

The true meaning of Independence day becomes apparent when we are not anywhere near Indianness. Last year, we were all working on Independence Day. For the first time, we felt the need or the value of that holiday. Usually all we do on I-Day is louse around and enjoy the day off. But not this time. So, all we Indians, gathered together and decided to dress up like Indians or at least wear colors from the Indian flag. We wanted to sing the anthem and generally assert that we were Indians. But then, we were told that those activities may not be brooked too much. Plus, who wanted to mess with the client, when he was already at our throats, waiting for an opportunity to draw blood??? So, there we were all dressed up as well as we could. All of us kept up the spirit, including some desis at the client place. We all were proud of being Indian, especially in a foreign place. I guess it was more of the pride in being unique, but yeah, our patriotism was at its max! I guess, given the fact that we were in a totally Indian – oblivious setting, gave us a bigger wish to prove our uniqueness. You know, the ‘I celebrate what you can’t understand’ sort of defiance. Well, Zengin remarked that we should go to the Brit there and tell him, “ Aaj hi ke din hamaare logon ne tumhaare logon ko dhakke maar ke bhagaaya tha!”

We went for a desi lunch at Taj, complete with sweets, and celebrated the lunch as though it were a day of very high significance in our rather insignificant lives. At that time, Ash asked a question, I still haven’t been able to find the answer to. We were all harping on and on about ‘my country’, being first rate citizens, a sense of belonging, a sense of identification with the culture, the race. So the question was – ‘Do you really think all that makes a difference? I feel that any country is home, as long as I have friends and family there.’ I was vehement in denying that, saying I loved the essence of my land and so on, but on hind sight, looking at the everyday struggle to survive, in terms of crowded trains, traffic, a feeble infrastructure, corruption, ineffectiveness of leaders and the like, I am being forced to reconsider my stance. So, please do comment on what your take is, on this point, because sincerely, I haven’t been able to make up my mind!

And then, after thoroughly enjoying lunch, we all got back and gathering together, we Indians posed for pictures. Indians united in independence. Jai Hind!

A gold - at long last...

Some years ago, when Leander Paes won a bronze medal for India, in a school elocution competition, I decided to slam India’s sport orientation and motivation with a speech titled – ‘900 million Indians and only one medal, that too – Bronze’. The speech was well received, but well, it was a school stage, not a public arena where the powers-that-be would take notice. We did improve thereafter. Silver and now, at long last, we have won our long awaited Gold medal! Wow. A truly momentous achievement indeed! The first gold medal for India since 1980. Even bigger – the first gold for an individual event. EVER! Wow, am I proud. And if I were Mr Abhinav Bindra, I would have been screaming with joy all day and all night. (guess that’s why I am not Bindra – since Beijing has strict pollution regulations, and screaming equals noise pollution – bad joke.) But our hero portrayed a calm and composed countenance, and all along said that he did not think of the pressure and the meaning of the win. How is it that all sportsmen act that way? Rafa wasn’t thinking of what the Wimbledon win would mean, as he stepped into Center Court this year. Federer was not thinking of points and ranking as he went to Cincinnati. Wow! How do they do that? Do they really do that????

The first medal came in Moscow for hockey, in ’80 and this one, in ’08. Talk of the circle of life! I do sincerely hope that the next one comes much earlier than 2080 though! Just this morning, as I looked at the papers, I saw news splashes all over the sport columns. ABC – fails to make a mark, X disappoints and I was truly exasperated, wondering why we never manage to perform. The gold certainly assuaged some amount of the disappointment, but we do have a big picture to worry about. China, till some years back, never participated. But then they suddenly made an appearance, and what an impact. The dragons enter where and when they are sure of stupendous success! America, sends a huuuuuuuuuuuge contingent. A kid with knowledge of basic probability would know that the chances and numbers of medals would be much higher as the sample space increases. And we send a teeny weeny contingent, a portion of which is least bothered about the games!

The answer could lie in three aspects. One, we need to encourage sport. Even in a city like Mumbai, u don’t find many schools that encourage sport on a large scale. Even if they did encourage sport, it is mainly cricket. And the nation salutes a Tendulkar and a Dhoni, while a Rajyavardhan Singh Rathore is relegated to the sidelines, till the Olympic games come along. So you tell me, who else would have the motivation to want to be a sportsperson here? We have chess grandmasters, women hockey players, all of whom silently go and win championships, and no one takes notice. I was appalled once to see the mention of the women’s hockey achievement as a corner piece on the last page of the Times, and an Indian cricket team loss made the front sports page. Its just a case of displaced importance. And unfortunately, our sport ministry commissions appreciative awards after someone, of his own motivation and drive, achieves something. And then, we have the disastrous ill-treatment of sportspeople, wherein post retirement, they live in poverty, a news piece carried by the papers for some time and then cast away. Literally!

The second aspect could be the coaching – physical and psychological. Physical coaching no doubt happens. But at the crucial moment, nerves get the better of the sportspeople. Case in point - Anju Bobby George, last time. She fell below her own personal record at a time where it mattered most. So, maybe, if we could find out why our achievers falter at the last minute, we could perform better.

And finally, unless our participation increases, we cannot even dream of the statistics to swing in our favor.

Today’s medal, no doubt will go down the annals of history as a major milestone, but I wish and I guess every Indian wishes to see the tricolor at the head of the medals tally. And one day, as we Indians become well-rounded individuals, who have the brains and the sportsman spirit, we will one day rise and shine.

India at the Olympics

The whole world is speaking of the Bird’s nest, the coming of age of China and the spectacle, called the Olympics. The opening ceremony was nothing short of wonderful, breathtaking, to say the least. The sheer volume and scale was impressive. 80 world leaders – PMs and chancellors – Putin, Sarkozy and good ol Bush, the King and Queen of Spain, (another stint after Wimbledon this year), were present cheering for their teams from the spectator’s arena. There are two televised events that help jog my geography – The Miss Universe Pageant and the Olympics. Seriously, how else would I be able to remember places like Aruba, Samoa and Djibouti while playing Name-Place-Animal-Thing? Although the Olympics are associated with a better legacy, and their motivating origins were a lot more noble! But on the more applauding side, it was heartening to see participants from Burundi (which topped the list of the World’s saddest nations), Afghanistan, and Iraq. For these people, the Olympics are a BIIIIIIIIG DEAL!!!!

Apparently not for our loved sportspeople. Yes, I am speaking of our Olympic contingent. Dapper young men, all clad in traditional Sherwanis and the women? Well no sense of decorum and respect whatsoever. Sania Mirza, for instance, clad in shabby sportsgear, to say the least, chewing on the annoying piece of gum! The reason – these women did not have assistance to drape a saree! First of all, does a 20 something woman need to be helped to drape a saree? Especially when the trend today is to wear a sari for all occasions, from farewell parties to weddings. Secondly, if someone in the contingent was wearing a sari, didn’t that signify ‘assistance’? It is plain arrogance and the weird trait in people of our generation, wherein they take pride in not knowing to speak in their mother tongue or for that matter wearing a sari or celebrating anything Indian.

To me, and I guess for a large part of the Indian audience, this actually amounts to defiance and high-handedness. Well, if a global stage where you represent India is something very menial and in Maya Sarabhai’s words – ‘sooo middle class’, please refrain from the same. We don’t even win as many medals as warrants the cultivation of such snobbish and ‘blasé’ behavior. In comparison, the Spanish contingent, that contained Tennis World Number 1 in waiting, Nadal, was more cohesive and appealing. Likewise the Swiss team led by Federer. Then walked in the American contingent, as harmonious as harmonious can be. In spite of greats like Davenport and Gay, there was not an ounce of the nonchalance that we Indians showed. In what way are we superior to those teams as we stand today, future results notwithstanding? Even if we suddenly improve our performance, and win some medals, are we bigger than the Olympics? Can we show defiance and disrespect to the games? No one can rise to that level, definitely not any sportsperson from our contingent.

If only we managed to bring in some more discipline in things and acted serious in everything we did, we could perhaps aspire to be a true superpower, respected and venerated……

Fuji - An anniversary and an experience

They said, no trip to Tokyo in summer is complete without climbing Mt. Fuji. It is the highest point in Japan. A volcano that is dormant since the 1700s. But climb the behemoth? And well, given the fact that the only thing I have ever climbed is a staircase, (and fallen and twisted my ankle a couple of times over there as well,) I was of the opinion that climbing and I were poles apart. I mean, I’d ask, of what joy is climbing? You subject your body to physical stress and strain, and at times even pain, to reach the top of a mountain, and then what? Subject yourself to more pain and start coming down!!! But somehow, on account of inputs from a brother, a couple of colleagues, my boss at work and my sister, (who had gone hiking in the Alps…. Later she told me that she had only climbed down and had taken a cable car up!!) I was intrigued by the idea of climbing Mt Fuji. But I was a little apprehensive, since my level of exercise was almost zero, on account of work pressures (oh yea, I know, it is the standard excuse!!!). And the last thing I wanted was for the people in my group to get held up because of me! But somehow, it seemed as though the fact that I was in Tokyo in summer, and that there had been a couple of weekends with no rain, was more than co-incidental. I took it as a sign that maybe I must climb after all. Besides, it can sound pretty momentous if I started my climbing escapades from the highest mountain in Japan. (Maybe culminating in climbing the highest mountain in the world…. I immediately imagined!!) So I thought, maybe I must give it a shot.

Then started multiple levels of research. The internet. People describing what they did, what they saw, how they went up, what to expect, what not to expect and so on. It was worth a great read. In fact those transcripts were the primary motivation for me to pen my experience as well. The first thing I came across, in most places was that one is a fool if he comes to Japan and doesn’t climb Fuji, and he is an even greater fool if he climbs twice. Hmm, interesting indeed. And then there were the endless lists of do’s and don’ts. Carry water, since water in the small stalls up the mountain can be pretty expensive, a 1000 yen as well. Carry light food, energy bars, a good jacket, a rain coat and so on. So we made a nice plan. We found a long weekend. 14, 15, 16 July. Great! Middle of summer, plus, we leave on Saturday (14th) and come down on Sunday. Rest all of Monday tending to all the sore ankles and backs. And off to work on Tuesday. To begin, we wanted to test our forbearance. So we set off on a mammoth sightseeing spree on foot. We decided one Sunday to take off to the Meiji shrine, and walk from Meiji, through Harajuku, Omotesando all the way to Shibuya, stroll in Shibuya, and then take the train back to Akasaka. We survived, with no painful joints! Yippee, we were not that old yet!!! So the plan stood. WE WILL CLIMB FUJI ON 14TH JULY. But the weather played spoilsport, and there was a typhoon alert, and to complicate matters, we had a massive earthquake at Nigata, and I felt that maybe I was reading the signs all wrong.

The subsequent weekend was again lost in poor weather, and we kept wondering whether the skies would clear at all! And then came the week of 28th and 29th of July. On Friday, the 27th, we realized that we would not have any work over the weekend, and the weather forecast had been good as well. So the wish to climb started growing in us again. We were Mansi, Neha, and I. We then caught hold of another chap, Siva and convinced him to come along as well. All like minded crazy enthusiastic people. Mansi and Neha had enthusiasm that was sky high. Given a choice, their enthu alone could have launched them to the top of the mountain. Mansi said that she knew a chap who had climbed Fuji before and he was ready to come along with us now as well. Almost instantaneously the words I had read off the internet in relation to Mt. Fuji flashed upon my mind. We nevertheless went to meet him to know what the experience would be like and what we should and shouldn’t expect. So off we went, and met Arun at Miami Garden, and over pizzas and beers, (I still think that maybe the beers convinced Arun to come along with us!!!), discussed his previous experience of climbing Fuji. He described his attempt and to say the least it was intriguing. We decided that we were not leaving Japan without climbing Mt Fuji.

After dinner, Mansi and I went shopping to get some essential reinforcements on the khaana front from Hanamasa! We bought cookies, bananas, chocolates and water. The plan was to meet Arun and Mangesh at Shinjuku station around noon on Saturday and the follow the leader for the rest of the way. So after a good sleep, we set off in the morning to Shinjuku station, met the guys and from then on, the journey began.

From Shinjuku, we took the Fuji Limited Express to Otsuki. This was like the Via Rail in Canada, where you could turn your seats to face one another, and there were large glass windows on either side, offering you a lovely view of the rich Japanese countryside. This took close to 45 minutes. Thereafter, from Otsuki we took another train to Kawaguchiko. Over here, by paying an additional 100 yen per person, we could get into a special coach that had only one huge set of sofas. The sofas faced a large window, and all of us settled on the couch watching the lovely countryside go fleeting by. We sat and took tons of pictures. And soon, we caught our first glimpse of THE MT. FUJI. A weird sense of anticipation came over us as we crowded around the window cameras in hand to capture the mountain we would be climbing soon. We soon reached Kawaguchiko station, and from there, we took a bus that was to take us to the 5th station on the Yamanoshi prefecture. We were to start our ascent from there, all the way to the top… hopefully. We reached the climbing point around 5 pm, and again took numerous pictures while standing down at the 5th station, and all these pictures have us smiling with glee!!!! (Oh yea, we had no clue of what was to follow). And from there began the experience.

At the base camp, we bought gloves, and the climbing sticks. There is a small bell tied to the top of the stick. Apparently that bell is for fending off bears!!! However, as you start climbing the constant clang of the bells on the sticks of the enthusiastic climbers tends to get to you. So, we all untied our bells and put them away. The initial part of the climb was like climbing a staircase. The sun was on its way down and we got a chance to savor the lovely surroundings. There is a lovely wooded area; fully green, smaller hills reside in adjoining areas, all in all making the sight very pretty. As we started climbing, the lack of exercise began getting to me, and I had to stop to catch my breath. What happens is that as you climb, your heart begins to beat faster, and you encounter a dropping level of oxygen in the air. If the situation goes out of control, you fall prey to what is called altitude sickness. Symptoms. You get dizzy, feel like throwing up and generally make a mess of the climbing experience. Yes, I mean it literally as well. I was in no mood to let that happen. The key? Stop every few minutes, and regain your breath. As we started climbing, I was anxious to know whether we had made sizeable progress. And as we climbed, we thought we had crossed the 6th station, which might have been a tiny stop somewhere in between. So filled with a sense of achievement, in spite of the fact that I had begun creaking in places, we climbed for nearly 2 hrs, only to be met by a huge sign, saying that we had reached the 6th station! That was the first time I felt a slight sense of despair. (The first in a huge series!) But the enthusiasm had not yet begun to flag. So we continued after a small stop. We called it a Sutta stop, since the guys would be busy stopping for a smoke, and we’d stop to catch our breath, senses, and maybe rest our aching legs a little bit. As we ascended towards the 7th station, the sun had begun to set and a lovely moon came out. It then occurred to us that we were climbing on a full moon night, that too, unwittingly chosen. Then we went on further to the 7th station. This climb took comparatively lesser time. Once at the 7th station, we stopped for a while longer, and this is where the cold began to hit us. Coming from tropical countries, all of us were cold; at least I was and add to it the fact that I couldn’t fill my lungs with hot tobacco smoke to keep warm. Only then did we realize that we had managed this far without actually feeling cold, only because of the calories we were burning! The minute we stopped, we shivered. Whew!!! Soon we got moving, and started off towards the 8th station. This was a fairly routine climb, with chain-link fences bordering the climbing route. From down below, we saw a red Tori, further up and we felt that this was the top. But, when we came to the 8th station, we got a rude shock, and realized, rather despondently that Japanese put Toris everywhere!

We then went from 8 to 9. The climb got a bit arduous here and hence exciting, as we tried to move on further. It was getting colder, steeper and windier. As we moved on further, we noticed that the moon was now on the other side of the mountain. Also, the climb was getting rocky and steep. The gradient was almost 80 degrees! We couldn’t climb as effortlessly on two legs as we had climbed previously. This portion of the climb had to be executed on all fours. We literally crawled, gripping rock crevices and finding foot holds in the rocky mountain face. There were signs here and about notifying climbers that it would get pretty windy as we went further, and true to the signs, it got really windy. As we glanced to the side, we noticed a huge patch of snow on the mountain slope. And we realized that the worst was yet to come. And sure enough, it started to rain. It was so cold! SO SO COLD! Add to it the fatigue of having climbed for so long, on all fours. So we had to stop, and when we did, we shivered, BIG TIME! The rain, the wind, and the sub-zero temperatures made it really difficult to keep strong. There was a shack at the 9th station. All of us bee-lined in front of it got in and went to a coal fire there and warmed our hands. Man that place was divine. Given a choice I would have preferred to be there till sunrise! But the shack owner was one step away from throwing us freeloaders out of the shack! So we sadly moved on! Sigh! For the first time, (again the first in a long series) I began to wonder why people climb! Braving the cold, the wind, the rains, and the glaring question was…. WHY DO PEOPLE CLIMB????

By now, our energy had begun to flag. We were on the sunrise face of the mountain and suddenly, WHAM! Up ahead, we saw almost 9 zigzag rows of people snaking their way up – all the way to the top! This was where all of us sighed in unison! NO! We’d climb; stop, almost as if we were in a queue. We saw the sun come up behind us, but we had not yet reached the peak. We were however not really too bothered about that fact. We were actually happy that the sun had finally come up. At least the weather would get a little warmer, if not anything else! For the first time in life, I welcomed the sunrise, (since otherwise it is always ‘Jeez why is it morning already!!!’) By the time we reached the top, final, white Tori at the top, it was around 7 a.m.

The guys went off to eat something but I stayed back to ….. SLEEP! I woke up after a while, and went off in search of the Fuji post office to post the cards I had brought with me. On my way, I passed the crater. I had read in the internet accounts that people generally walk all around the crater. But, in my case, I neither had the enthusiasm, nor the energy to walk around a gaping hole! Let alone walk around, I was having trouble walking on level ground! So I stood at the edge, and peered down below. Not a very pretty sight!!! I checked in some stalls, and they said that the post office was a good half hour away. Whoa! I didn’t have the time or the energy to walk so much, so in true Indian nature I bartered 2 of the vendor’s cards for two of my own and asked him to post them for me. He agreed and sure enough, they have reached their recipients! Marked ‘Mt. Fuji’, making them a very special collectible. I then got back to our group, and Siva, Arun and Mansi took our sticks for stamping, and soon thereafter we began the second leg of the journey – the downhill climb.

To begin with, we all started coming down together, and then, unable to maintain pace, we split into 3 groups of 2 each. Siva was my climbing down partner, and I am really sorry about that. I am by and far a very poor climbing down partner, with the capability to drive away all semblances of sharafat and gentility from a decent person! Arun had told us that coming down would be easier and faster, since the volcanic mud would be loose, and we could easily slide down! That is soooooooo not true… and I realized it only after I had gone all the way up and was forced to have to come down! What happened was, we began rather effortlessly, again fuelled by will power, with a 20 degree gradient and a mild wind for company. In just a few minutes however, it began to rain and it rained hard. We were engulfed in clouds, and felt the sudden coolness as a cloud wafted past us. So the wet mud was not conducive to sliding and whooppaa… plop.. plop… I landed on the ground at least 6-7 times, twisting my ankle (which has had a history of soreness) at least twice. My gloves were wet and I could barely grip my stick, since my fingers were getting numb. But climbing sans gloves was tough, since volcanic soil can be abrasive, when you fall, and so my palms got scratched a good many times. So there I was, cold, distraught and my ankle was in agony. Poor Siva – he had to put up with all these delays – tremendous patience indeed. I still remember the gentle exhortations – ‘Just one more lane – one more’ all in an attempt to jagao the dead adventurous spirit in me. Sorry man!!!

At one stage, I was really frustrated, since I had no idea how much more had to be traversed. We had a feeling that we had actually covered a decent amount of ground, and I felt that we would have not more than around 2.5 kms. We stopped some people, and asked them and they said that we still had around 5.5 kms left. I was in despair, downcast, down in the dumps, down everywhere except down at the foot of the mountain. I wished for a helicopter to appear out of nowhere and take me back to Kioicho. I wondered about the people I hadn’t said bye to before leaving and remembered the movie Cast Away. But leaving the histrionics aside, we had to move on. And move on we must. Determination kicked in – having to get over the frustration and physical pain to move on. My knees shook each time I stopped, thanks to the cold and now my calves were acting queasy as well. And I sooooooooo wanted to sleep! But we moved on and finally managed to reach the sixth station. After this, we took a detour and came through a forested route, which, for the record was lovely. The weather was now dew-fresh. And the prospect of soon reaching the base was even more enticing. Presently we reached the fifth station. We then washed up, posed for pictures and finally left the mountain after bidding adieu to the great Fuji san.

Once out of there and on the way back home, we all spoke of the experience and after I reached my apartment, I had the opportunity to sit back and reflect. I felt happy that I had decided to ‘go for it.’ It was something I had never tried before. Something adventurous I had never done. So what if it isn’t as precarious and life threatening as an Ethan Hunt climb in MI-2? It was nonetheless pushing my body to the frontiers. To the edge of forbearance and tolerance. It felt good to know that I had taken the plunge to put myself through this to experience the exhilaration that is the ‘I am at the top’ feeling. If someone were to ask me what I gained through the climb, I wouldn’t have been able to tell them then. Because I didn’t see the lakes, thanks to the clouds, didn’t walk along the crater, since it was too tiring, didn’t catch the sunrise at the peak, and the downhill trip was painful. But somewhere, a some other level, there was a certain weird sense of accomplishment and happiness.

So today, one year later, I do nothing but look back at the experience fondly, and wish I could climb another mountain soon!

The group - Arun Bhutra, Mangesh Ambetkar, S J Sivaraman, Mansi Dalvi, Neha Grover, Sindhu Subramaniam - A rocking team who made it all possible.....

Pictures courtesy - Arun, Mangesh, Mansi, Neha, Siva and I........

The pressures of childhood...........

Well, I saw an episode of BONES yesterday, and that really provoked a lot of thoughts. The theme covered two topics on which I have had rather strong sentiments about. Well, for those who don’t know BONES, it is an excellent show that generally revolves around a newly found skeleton every week. It is the job of the forensic experts to trace a face, figure out who the skeleton was when it was more than just bones, and eventually trace the killer. All within the one hour. And this makes the show totally power packed. Anyway, yesterday’s show spoke about the skeleton of a 9 year old female, who had been a kiddie beauty pageant winner. The suspects ranged from a demanding parent, a competitor’s miffed mother, another kid’s creepy looking elder brother and hold your breath….. another 9 year old! The killer…. The 9 year old!!!

They say television more often than not projects current society or at least a projected society of the future. (Please do not include regressive daytime soaps or the Hindi K serials!!! They don’t represent television as a genre!) So, this episode covered two topics – pressure on kids and glamour. So I was tempted to write ‘A Childhood lost…. II’. I still remember, many households in our native village, which I would visit during vacations, would have at least 2 kids. And the parents there would feel very proud if their kids could recite shlokas coherently. “You know, Ganesh can recite 8 verses of the Geeta without prompting, and he is 4.” This statement would be accompanied by a beaming face, full of pride! And today, people take pride in the fact that their child can sing ‘Ishq Kameena’ or even dance hideously to those tunes! I am not terribly old. But yes, I have seen the decadence if I can call it, in front of my own eyes. It would have been better if this was restricted to the households and family-friends parties. But, now, we have managed to broadcast this crass show on national television. The result? It is for all to see. One kid was paralyzed since she suffered a terrific shock at being ridiculed on national television. Now we all know how hideous it is to be made fun of in front of a classroom full of kids our own age. While competing, the motivation is to become a star in front of the nation. The ultimate exaltation. Unfortunately, the fall is equally, if not more precipitous. And kids till the age of 12, are not psychologically strong enough to handle this hit. At an age when all they should ideally think of revolves around amusement parks, swings, clowns, games, playing and of course school, I guess people choose to burden them with careers, glamour, fame and fortune. There is a time and an age for everything. Just like how you can’t be a football star at 80, you cannot be expected to be a celebrity at 8, and lead a normal life. Every star has a high and a low. It takes tremendous courage, strength and grit to put up with failure and ridicule. This maturity comes with age.

The second issue is glamour. This has been an industry that has fascinated me since ages. Not for any other reason except the fact that it aims to make money through people’s vanity. What is in vogue today will be passé tomorrow! And all we can do is try to continuously match up. I am reminded of a time when I was a little girl. There was this real mean older girl in the neighborhood. She had a huge bunch of cousins and all these people were my only ‘friends’. I still remember one day, when we were going to go outside to play, they were just getting out as well. And all of them were wearing a certain green hair band. Mine was red. And the mean girl said, “we are all green… you are only red.” I ran back home, and pulled out my green band, and went out, only to see them all wearing red now. “we are all red, you are only green.” I guess I got my first lesson of not wanting to play match up, pretty early on in life. But the world of glamour is harsher, meaner. You need to have the perfect hair, perfect skin, perfect smile, every single minute. Add to it the bitchiness and backbiting tendency of everyone who wants to make it to the top. The place at the top has room for just one person. And it is a crazy world out there with everyone kicking and scratching and screaming, pulling down those who managed to rise up. The result? Many dope to doom! The most prominent case, which was also made into a movie, is the case of Gia – immortalized by Angelina Jolie in a movie by the same name. Closer home, we have Shivani Kapur and Geetanjali Nagpal, the latter notoriously found begging on the streets of Delhi. Imagine, 25 year old seasoned arc light experts buckle under the pressure. And kiddie beauty pageants are a craze in the US. They have always been so over the years. I don’t think I need to describe the immense psychological pressure it puts on these kids. I don’t even need to describe the tremendous consequences.

I wish I could make an earnest appeal to all the fame hungry parents out there. Please let the kids be happy. They need to enjoy life. See the world, smell the fresh rain soaked mud, scream from the top of a windmill, run barefoot in the waves, eat ice creams and chocolates without worrying about calories and inches. Just please return their childhood to them and take pride in the fact that their innocence is intact, and not in the fact that they can identically imitate Hrithik Roshan’s dance steps!

A day in the life of..........

It’s a Friday night. Cool and windy and here I am, reflecting over the week that was. What a Wednesday! I set out to work, expecting the day to be like any other day at a new workplace. Definitely a special day for me, but I was a bit downcast, since I knew no one at the new place and no one in turn knew me! Quiet, aloof, totally sequestered. So I never expected any warm fuzzy, effusive treatment. Indifference, apathy….. ‘just another day in the life of….’ Was what I was expecting. But I should perhaps have taken a hint from the way the night panned out, given the fact that some of my buddies decided to celebrate the joys of having endured me for so long, and felt that the moment wherein I added yet another year to my existence, was by and far, most opportune for doing so! Well, Yanni who was ‘playing by heart’ had to be paused as the wishes came pouring in. One of them was actually awake waaaay beyond his bed time in his time zone, to do the honors…..’you really should have slept dude!!!’ Although no doubt very sweet, all this in no way came even close to being the proverbial swallow foreboding a summer.

The actual day started with a call from a long lost friend, someone I hadn’t spoken to ever since she’d left for the US. I, for one, never expected her to remember, let alone call!!!! Thereafter a bunch of friends who had been associated with me through different stages of life called up. We have this typical ‘calling group’ so to say, although we never refer to ourselves as such. Though the crossroads of life have managed to take us to totally different corners of the world, both in terms of our respective fields and in terms of geographical locations, we ensure we call each other up on our birthdays at least as a means of keeping in touch. As one of my friends remarked, ‘Isi bahaane saal mein do baar toh we touch base’. That is what happens. Like Davies has said, “a poor life this, if full of care… we have no time to stand and stare.” But then every year, we solemnly decide to be more punctual and focused on our meetings and ‘keeping in touch’ acts, although the ‘I’ for Implementation is essentially missing. Well, my only saving grace is the fact that we, till date have been up to date on the major milestones in each other’s life! (we all know who is seeing who, we also know when who is tying the knot. – essential information you see… our shopping calendars have to be adjusted accordingly.) Anyway, enough of of reflective musings. Back to more mundane thoughts!

It has been over a month since I last bid adieu to the i firm. The i firm………..My first job, my first exposure to the big bad world of corporate garbage. My first friendships in a setting not allied with assignments, projects, mid-terms and first class. Many old uncles and aunties who had braved the corporate stormy weather, had warned me that the workplace is where you work and only work. Relationships – at the altar. Well, whether they meant – forged at the altar or sacrificed at the altar, I didn’t understand back then. I wasn’t even interested in finding out. So at the end of my tenure at the i firm, the cynic in me just said that having good relationships with a handful of people at work was just a coincidence. The guiding dictum would most certainly be - out of sight, out of mind. I knew it too. There would be many people waiting in line to occupy the ‘window seat’. That I once occupied the same, would be a fact pretty much forgotten. My ego wished that the forgetting didn’t happen too soon. But even if it did, I was prepared to be ready for it… or at least so I thought! However, when the people I had interacted with at work began to call and wish me, I felt humbled, small, emotional, moved. You name it, I was it! They called... From my first friend at work to the last one I made before I left, they called. Even people I had interacted with during a small project in South Africa, called, not minding weird time zones.... They took the time out to wish someone who had just been a passing phase in their lives. And this list, believe me, included the likes of the Chieftain of our whole division, my ex-boss, who incidentally happens to head our whole tech team! And of course, the rest of my team mates!

As if that were not enough, around mid afternoon, the security guy comes in saying that I have a special delivery. And what is it? A 2 ft tall huuuge bouquet, addressed to me at my new workplace, sender – our secret code word – privy to only my ex team! Everyone in my new workplace was shocked! Surprised would be an understatement. Shell-shocked! Stunned! Yeah maybe even all of those feelings combined. When I told my friends about this gesture all they said in return was, “you are lucky to have had such a loving team!!!” One of my friends said, “for the past so many years, I have been seated under the very eyes of my supervisor. People around would come and wish me, and a mail from HR would go out as well. But bouquet toh chhod, ek patta nahin diya kabhi kisine!” I guess that just about sums up the magnitude of the gesture as perceived by the rest of the population!

As I sat back, thinking about my day, Goldsmith’s words very succinctly described my position – ‘And fools who came to scoff, remained to pray!’ so I expected a quiet, lonely birthday surrounded by people I didn’t know…. Yeah right, certain others had other plans!!!!!

So, a huge thank you to Chief, Pa, Teepoo, Bond, Dakumom, Nadzz and all the wonderful people out there…… you all made my day…. HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO ME!!!!!!!!!!!!

Where is this world heading?

44 innocent people were killed and 140 more were injured in a suicide bomb attack in Afghanistan. This time among the victims were some Indians. When, I wonder, will the carnage end?

Till now the people who were primarily on the receiving end were Afghans. In an attempt to show their dissent, the extremists blew up their own brethren. But here, hapless individuals who went with the idea of aiding in the reconstruction are being sacrificed. Where may we apportion the blame?

Let us begin with a small delineation of the story that was. Afghanistan was living happily, maintaining her culture, freedom, although stifled, and under non-extreme, non-fundamentalist leadership. After all, Afghanistan does indeed have a lineage of cultural diversity, having been one of the bedrocks of the Central Asian regimes over the ages. As a result of various other changes in the political climate over the ages, a cold war ensued between USA and Russia. On account of its strategic proximity to Russia and its key vantage point in Central Asia, Afghanistan became the person from whose shoulder the American gun was fired. Afghanistan’s neighbor Pakistan also played a stoking hand in the politics. Various fundamentalist Jehadi groups were funded by USA in Afghanistan as a means to suppress resistance from Russia. What began as a political game of one-upmanship, soon ballooned out of control into the specter called terrorism. Legend has it that the entity called Osama was created as a counter move by the Americans. Black magic is practiced in villages in Kerala, India. And this witchcraft is employed by a person to cause harm to his enemies. However, there is a belief that the witch that is employed here boomerangs to come back and affect the initiator. A similar situation hit America when her own self-created specter came back to haunt her. Had someone reminded the policymakers and powers-that-be then, of the old adage, ‘As you sow, so shall you reap’, life could have been a lot more calm and peaceful the world over.

Think about it.
By making use of Afghanistan during the cold war, and funneling all important resources into the wrong hands, fundamentalist, extremist groups got the necessary wherewithal to build up their case. The Iranian Ayatollah Khomeini had already proclaimed that the west especially USA was an anathema on the rest of the world. And traditionally Christianity and Islam never got along at all. So funds and most importantly encouragement to fundamentalists led to the emboldening of the feared and severely extremist Taliban. No one complained then since vested interests were being served. However, going forward, no one expected a terror attack on a nation as strong as the US. But when that happened, the US decided to strike back. The result, no doubt was the routing of the Taliban from the government of Afghanistan, but as subsequent times have shown the routing has been effective only from Kabul. A fragmented yet ideologically united Taliban continues to lurk in the shadows, looking for the correct opportunity to strike back. Meanwhile, they are making their presence known all over the world by orchestrating such cowardly acts of terrorism under the guise of demanding their independence.

Likewise, the case of Iraq. As if the US did not have enough to worry about, they set off to establish democracy in Iraq. Well, Iraq is legendary for its Shiya-Sunni fights. Although a dictator, and a rather tyrannical one, Saddam knew how to keep his people in check. At least the people did not roam around killing one another on the roads through suicide bomb attacks. But once the Iraqi leader had been captured and rather hastily executed, the whole world wondered, ‘what was going on there?’ Almost 80% of Americans, a survey revealed, felt that the war in Iraq was pointless and was serving some other ulterior motive. Prime Minister Tony Blair was made to publicly apologize for his gross lack of judgment and his decision for having agreed to the nefarious plan of the war on Iraq. Many also believe that this failure in judgment was responsible for his ouster from 10 Downing Street. The CIA itself has declared that the whole 'weapons of mass destruction' story was precisely that... a cock and bull story. The decapitation of the Iraqi dictator literally decapitated Iraq, throwing open the lid of a can of worms. And the rest as they say was chaos! It has been almost a year and a half since Saddam was captured and executed and even now, the law and order is precarious in Iraq. Force and interference have never led to any fruitful gain anywhere. In a way I wouldn't hold the Afghans and Iraqis entirely at fault. Anyone who is made to genuflect to a foreign nation and be governed by a puppet government run by their arch nemesis is bound to react. And react violently. But effecting such a flawed destruction of 2 nations? Can America be accused of Democide? A very harsh statement indeed. But well, they did kill Saddam because of his political views and because of the 'potential threat' he posed for US. And that in turn resulted in 'genocide', though not in the real sense of the word in Iraq. All in all, some decisions by the powers-that- be, have resulted in the virtual wipe out and destruction of 2 countries. And why is the world up in arms against this? Well, all because the whole of the world community is losing its citizens to the barbaric acts of terrorism.

India never interfered in the politics of another country. Yet a part of her Kashmir is gobbled up by Pakistan. China continuously stakes claim on one North Eastern state after another and she loses so many of her sons in pointless suicide attacks or kidnappings elsewhere, not to mention the number of worthy soldiers lost each year in cruel brushes with terrorist infiltrators in Kashmir. And within the country itself, Mumbai shares the nefarious honor of having faced two bomb attacks by terrorists.

As a world community we need a neutral approach and a permanent solution to this problem. Stop allowing one country to take matters in their own hands and play God! Leave a country's natural resources well enough alone. Their resources are theirs and theirs alone. Maybe we need to empower the United Nations to step in and curb the high handed behavior of some of the world's most powerful nations as well. Since clearly the problem causers need not necessarily be from the barbaric, uneducated depths of the third, fourth and fifth world.

I am just worried, that tomorrow, if someone manages to find oil in the Garhwal Himalayas of Uttar Pradesh, we (India) may need to add US into our list of enemies, as they in turn add us to their list of ‘terrorist states’. And the rest as they say.... CHAOS SHALL PREVAIL...........

Cogitations of a sporting mind

Let me begin by including an article I read about this expected duel soon after Nadal won in Queens. (courtesy Reuters)

Tennis man-of-the moment Rafael Nadal will draw inspiration from Tiger Woods, the sportsman he most admires, if things get tough at Wimbledon over the next fortnight.
Nadal, who backed up his straight sets annihilation of five-times defending Wimbledon champion Roger Federer at the French Open with his first grasscourt trophy at Queen's last weekend, watched Woods's U.S. Open triumph against the odds from his home in Majorca.

"I like a lot his mentality. I like a lot his eyes when he's going to have the important shot. He always plays with unbelievable determination in important moments," Nadal told a news conference at Wimbledon on Saturday before the championships start on Monday.
Several former players including five-times winner Bjorn Borg have tipped Nadal to beat Federer, whom he is seeded to meet again in the final at Wimbledon this year after losing the last two.

Nadal would not accept he had overtaken the Swiss world number one as favorite, however. "I can only thank Bjorn for his words...but you know Bjorn is not magic."

Asked if he thought Federer was more vulnerable than in previous years, Nadal replied with heavy sarcasm "yes: a lot. He didn't lose a set in Halle, 59 matches without losing (on grass) Come on!"

Federer, as always, played the Halle German warm-up tournament instead of Queen's, extending his unbeaten run on grass which dates back to Wimbledon 2002 when he lost to Croat Mario Ancic.

I was truly inspired by last night’s Wimbledon final, dominated by grit and steely nerves – a conquest where both the stake holders had all to gain and all to lose as well. This really tickled my imagination and I thought, ‘how about giving a thought to the thoughts of the champions as they fought on center court’. So read on…. For an imaginative person’s rendition of the cogitations of a sporting mind!!!

Pre – match.

Roger Federer – ‘Why on earth is everyone making such a big thing out of today’s match? I am the king of grass, and I have proved it time and time again till date. How many people have managed to bag five titles? 5 consecutive titles? And here I am, bidding for my 6th title. Even Bjorn Borg feels that I will manage to surpass his record. Nadal has met me 2 times in the past. Why should anything be different this time? Grass is my court, my mainstay. It suits my form of play, just as clay suits his. There really isn’t anything to be worried about. 6th consecutive Wimbledon victory…. Here I come!’

Rafael Nadal - ‘Two times I came close. All the way to the final, and lost. Can it please be any different this time? If I win today, I would have the record of having clinched the French Open and Wimbledon in the same year. Like Bjorn Borg. No wonder he is here. Either way, irrespective of who wins, one record is equaled or another broken. It is a milestone, a milestone for tennis. So whew! So much at stake. I wonder if I can make it. It has been tough, because all said and done, Federer is the best player on grass. No second thoughts about that!’

From here onwards, we refer to the players as Fed and Rafa!

Set 1 begins.

Fed – ‘tadaadeeedaaaaaa. My games are mine dude’.

Rafa – ‘One break is all it takes… play on rafa…. Come on… One break.’

At break point in set 1 – Federer may not really be fazed. After all, if Rafa could break him, he can break rafa as well, right?

When Rafael Nadal wins set 1

Rafa – ‘whew! But it is faaaaaar from over. Federer is one who can spring up from one or 2 sets down. But good… I need to keep my level up, keep my performance up.’

Fed – ‘Just one. Next set will be better.’

As the game goes on, Federer breaks Rafa.

Fed – ‘Take that’

Soon after Rafa breaks Fed.

Rafa – ‘You’re on man…. The games have begun!’

When Fed is 2 sets down and it rains.

Fed – ‘I need to regroup. This kid is better than I thought. He seems to know exactly where to put the ball and what the heck, he is playing a sublime game. Jesus, I need to win this. But I am cool… after all grass is my favorite surface. And I am world number 1’

Rafa – ‘The momentum is broken. If I had a psychological advantage, it has effectively been washed away. Federer is not world number one for nothing. He is after all a sublime player. It won’t be difficult for him to start clawing back. How many times has he clawed up from 2 sets down!! I wish Wimbledon was a 3 set match! I would have been champion!! Sigh! Forget it, what happens happens.’

The third set is bagged by Fed in a tie break.

Fed – ‘Yessss! He should have known. No one can beat me in a tie break. I am the best as far as the service is concerned. But I am also relieved. Let’s go further’

Fourth set tie breaker. Nadal leads 5-2, serving in the tie-break for the championship. Triple match point.

Fed – ‘ what on earth is happening here? Why is the grass court ditching me today? Come on Rafa, get excited. Lose control.’

Rafa – ‘ 3 years of waiting. 2 harsh denials of what is sooooo wanted to have. An extremely elusive record. I soooo wanted this. It is finally mine. Well almost! Just one more point and I am there. The history books are waiting. The title is for the taking.’ And Rafa misses.

Fed – ‘1 saved, one more to go. And when it is my service point, I jolly well know how to convert it!’

Rafa – ‘shush, I need to calm down. But I can’t. This means so much! Please, please let this be done!’ and Rafa misses again.

Fed – ‘Thank you God!!!! This is amaaaazing. Now my service points and I am clinching this.’ With a renewed determination, Fed scores and the set is his. ‘ Whew! I am relieved. That boy really scared me. Now we are on level playing ground. 2 sets a piece. I need to put my head firmly on my shoulders in the next set. I know he must also be tired, because I AM!’

Rafa – ‘Is this not meant to be? Why do I lose it when I almost made it? Triple match points, what was I thinking? God gave me the chance and I screwed up. Will I be able to make it up again??? I don’t know! I am frustrated man, really downcast.’

Play begins for the fifth set, and a clearly disappointed Rafa and a newly charged Fed duel it out. At 2-2 and deuce, the gray clouds are back, as if providing a providential moment to both of them to reflect.

Rafa – ‘But I still have one set to fight for. And I lose nothing by fighting to the end. If I win, I have all to gain. If I lose, I put up a strong fight. I know what to correct for next year and I can still be back and win what I have always wanted! So fight. Fight rafa, fight.’

Fed – ‘It is anybody’s game now, I want to hope that Rafa has lost his motivation. He seems tired as well. His strokes are strained. And look at how I have been scoring my games. 4 aces! Effortless. He has been struggling to win his own service games. Well, but I will need to be prepared for next year, if I am to make it 7 titles in a row.

At the end, in a fight of resolve and nerves, Rafa rules supreme. It was probably the fighting spirit, the attraction towards the goal, that made Rafa put the extra something. It could really have been anybody’s game. Federer was not playing his natural game, but not many in the tournament had the keen eye to notice the chinks in the armor and hit. Probably the aura of awe that surrounds Federer actually shields all the chinks from his opponents. It takes the scathing eye of a resolute player who wants the goal more than anything to actually penetrate the force field and look within. After all everyone is human, and no one is invulnerable. But surprisingly Federer seemed unusually calm and dignified in defeat. So much so, that I really felt bad for him.

Here is the on court interview (from the official Wimbledon site).

SUE BARKER: Roger, I know this must be so difficult for you, but you must know how popular and what a great champion you are to the people here. They'd like to hear your thoughts on the match, because you played such a part in such a wonderful final.

ROGER FEDERER: Yeah, tried everything (smiling). Got a little late and everything.
But, look, Rafa's a deserving champion. He just played fantastically.

SUE BARKER: And I guess it was just the emotion of it all and all the drama, all the rain delays. You had so much to put up with today.

ROGER FEDERER: Yeah, didn't make it easier, but you got to expect the worst. And it's the worst opponent on the best court.
No, but it's been a joy again to play here. A pity couldn't win it under the circumstances, but I'll be back next year.

SUE BARKER: That's all we wanted to hear. That's fantastic. I know it's difficult.

ROGER FEDERER: Thank you.

SUE BARKER: Rafa, can you describe what you felt when you just fell to the floor, when you knew you were the Wimbledon champion?

RAFAEL NADAL: Well, is impossible to explain what I felt in that moment, no? So just very, very happy for win this title, my favorite tournament for me. It's a dream play in this court.
But win, I never imagine something like this. So very happy. Thank you very much, everybody.

SUE BARKER: But you really won it the hard way, didn't you? I mean, how did you get yourself back having lost the championship points to keep yourself so mentally strong?

RAFAEL NADAL: Well, disappointing for me I am in the same time like the best player of the history, Roger Federer. So is very tough always play against him, especially here. I have lots of chances for win before the match.
But just congratulate Roger, because he always fight unbelievable. His attitude is always excellent when he win, when he lose. So just thank you very much Roger. His attitude is very good for the tennis.

SUE BARKER: And the fact that you beat Roger here on Centre Court in arguably one of the greatest finals we've ever seen. Does that make this even more special?

RAFAEL NADAL: Well, for sure, you know, win Roger here after five years, I lost the last two finals, close finals. But he's still the No. 1. He's still the best. He's still five‑time champion here. Right now I have one, so for me it's very, very important day.

SUE BARKER: I know the first thing you wanted to do was to run up to see your father and your uncle that's been your coach and such a support to you. What did they say to you up there?

RAFAEL NADAL: Just thank you very much for his support, for their support all the time, coming with me, my uncle, my family. The rest of the family are there. So everybody, thank you very.

SUE BARKER: Big celebration planned?

RAFAEL NADAL: No big celebration. I forgot one thing. Just thank you very much the Prince and Princess for coming watch my final today.

Next year, let us look with greater interest at Roland Garros for a similar fight, this time on clay. Maybe Fed can pull some new tricks out of the bag there – as a means of sweet revenge. Possible victory? You never know. Rafa is deadly on clay. And he has consistently beaten his rivals in straight sets. But everyone thought Fed was invincible on grass. What about Wimbledon? If I were able to script the Grand Slams like true pot boiler stories, I would lay my money on a complete new comer! Or maybe even Djokovic for the title, with Federer and Nadal out in the first few rounds! That is what happened in this year’s ladies singles right? After all, we need to expect the unexpected. That is what makes the sport the real engrossing entity that it is. However, what we do need to accept is that thanks to such duels, we viewers are treated to visual fantasy! Tennis in an all new league altogether. So cheers to the new age of tennis!

The pretender hath arrived.

All hail the tooth marks on the Wimbledon trophy! All hail the new king of grass. All hail the man to have tamed clay and grass in the same year, only the second after the legendary Bjorn Borg. All hail the muscleman of Mallorca.
Last night saw the clash of the titans. On a green rain ravaged Centre Court at Wimbledon. Tipped to win for a sixth consecutive time, the grass court great, Roger Federer met more than his match in the new kid on the block – clay Kaiser – Rafael Nadal. In what seemed to be a match between two level playing individuals, skill and most importantly endurance were put to the test. At the start of the tournament, Bjorn Borg (whose record Federer wished to surpass and Nadal wished to equal – two altogether different records – number of titles and same-season wins on grass and clay respectively) had tipped Nadal as his favorite Wimbledon 2008 Champion. However, after looking at Federer’s sublime performance against Safin, Borg was forced to retract his statement. In spite of everything, all those who witnessed the Wimbledon 2008 final match, were treated to a visual phenomenon, tennis of a different level. Some years ago, when Michael Schumacher was scorching up race tracks across Europe, winning race after race, Start Sports commentator Steve Slater had remarked, “All the retractors of Michael Schumacher, who have been going on and on about how boring the sport has become, thanks to Michael’s dominance, please sit back and look at History in the making.” Well, yesterday’s visual treat was nothing short of spectacular. Those who have seen the past 2 encounters between these two players, would definitely agree that Nadal has managed to elevate his game to a higher level. Many kept saying yesterday that Federer was not playing his natural game. And to a large extent, that did seem very true. In fact the number of times the ball hit the net, the number of faults. Each service game had at least one fault. In a crunch final, such unforced errors cannot be condoned. Well, I would just say that we must also give kudos to the fact that Nadal was playing a good, typical grass court game. If he managed to notice chinks in Federer’s armor and capitalize on the opportunities provided, what is wrong? Aren’t these qualities key to success anywhere? Observation and favorable conversion of all available opportunities! Definitely yes. It was clearly evident that Nadal was on top, both physically and mentally, since for the first time, super-cool Federer’s countenance betrayed the contrary!
The duel began with Nadal bagging the all important break of Federer’s serve. That, and the fact that he never let his serve be broken, saw him cruise to a 6-4 first set victory. The second set saw Federer breaking Nadal’s serve to go up 3-0 and Nadal in turn breaking Federer to again bag the set 6-4. So the 5 time champion is 2 sets down with Nadal serving into the third set. No one is still ready to accept that Fedex is going down. Star sports displays a banner that shows that Federer has resurged from being 2 sets down to go on to win the match, not once or twice but 3 times! Wow… Nevertheless, neither of the players is willing to let the opponent win. And then suddenly a huge grey cloud looms over Center Court, foreboding rain! Play resumes after a while, but you can only imagine the tension that the players would be under as they wait in the dressing room for the rains to abate. The set is inevitably pushed into a tie-breaker. Ace man Federer cannot be beaten in tie breaks! His serve is literally lethal. However, we did get to see some high quality serves and returns as the tie break progressed. But the 2 service points that Nadal lost spelt the loss of the third set. Fourth set begins and Federer seems to have found his lost charm. Supreme serves and returns, all in all spelt another thrilling fourth set. Again… Tie breaker. But here, when Nadal converted 2 of Federer’s service points, it looked that we were looking into the eyes of the new Wimbledon champion. Of course if you are leading 5-2 in the tie breaker of the fourth set and you are on serve, most people cannot expect much else. But perhaps God wanted the match to stretch on for 5 sets. Perhaps that was the minimum courtesy for a gentleman, THE gentleman of the gentlemen’s sport! Whether it was the excitement of the imminent decisive win, or the overwhelming emotion of being at the threshold of finally achieving what he had set out to achieve, each time coming so close yet so far, that played on Nadal’s nerves, we may never know. But he lost 2 match points and Federer again clinched the set. Now it was all down to the final set. No tie breaks, just the game.
Set 5 – the play starts, they are 2 sets each, 5th set 2 games all, 5th game on deuce…… RAIN!!!! I know I would have screamed NOOOOOOOOOO or WHYYYYYY looking up at the sky! I know my nerves would have been frayed at the edges. I know my energy would have flagged, I know I may have thrown it all away when play finally resumed. Maybe that is why I am here toying with the English language with a pen and paper and there, they are world champion and the new pretender….. But they play and they play hard, till finally nerves win. Many analysts have spoken that Federer believes in the grace of the game and such is his command over the sport that he never goes the extra mile to clinch a point. Well, when you have an awestruck opponent, and all the points available for the taking you don’t really need to bother about each point. But this is where yesterday’s game was different. Federer for the first time was facing an opponent who was agile and aware. He was in total concentration, completely involved in the game at hand. Continuously on the lookout for a slip up. At the end of the day, with two players so perfectly matched in ambition and determination, as also skill, the duel almost always boils down to the war of the nerves and mind games take center stage. Brain rules over brawn here. This strategy finally paid off for Nadal, as he finally clinched the ever elusive Wimbledon victory. A true fight indeed.
Now, the question remains, what happens next?
Well, can Federer now make a real challenge on clay? Given the fact that he has lost to Nadal in the past in 3 sets, or a maximum of 4 sets, it seems highly difficult. Besides, Nadal is still very young and the energy is still very much with him. Having quite clearly perfected the technique of taming the bounce of grass, this victory has also helped boost his confidence, going forward. Does this mean the end of the Federer era? Decidedly no. Federer is truly an artist in tennis - one of the few players whose game looks beautiful and graceful on court. Many of his strokes resemble the artistry of the tennis of yesteryears. Unfortunately the grit and the pace of power tennis today have made it difficult for anyone to just be artistic and win championships. Pat Rafter, Goran Ivanisevic are all cases in point – all famous for their unique shots and strokes. But the art coupled with power creates a unique form of tennis stroke play, of which Federer is a master. However, if Nadal perfects his service and holds on to his energy and spirit, while at the same time avoiding injury, I think we are at the threshold of one of the most rewarding periods in modern day tennis.
All hail the new era in Tennis!!!!!

Dasaavatharam - Heeeeeeeeeeeellllllllpppppppp S.O.S

Once upon a time, not so long ago, in the feud of the superstars of the South, one Mr. Rajnikant made a movie called Sivaji. This was an out and out masala movie, received extremely well by audiences the world over. So, our other Mr. Movie star had to make another movie to prove he was better – or wadever! So he walked up to Mr. K S Ravikumar – a director, who is better known to have directed movies like Padayappa and Muthu, all huge BO successes – and using all his might (a lot of which can also be seen on screen, as he splits at his seams – someone tell Mr. Kamal Haasan to go to the gym!) – said, “Dude, I want a movie made for me.”

So the meek director says, “y…y…yessir.. b..b..but…. s..sss…story… ssssir?”
“Oh hell, does it matter? I need to be in every frame. That is it! Give it some nice historic name… Shivaji… oh na na… that is taken… how is Haider Ali? Nah, then I cannot have a string of women around…. So no… umm… mythological…. Adonis? Well… that is too much of a giveaway, (sniggling to himself ). No… Dasaavatharam!! Yes!!! 10 roles! Great….. Get on with it now…”

“Y… Y…Yessir.”

This is how the magnum FLOPus Dasaavatharam, it appears, was made. (At least that is the only logical explanation to this highly illogical torture.

Now, many people have trashed this movie. No doubt. Everyone has been expecting something out of the world from this movie, because the last time Kamal Haasan made a movie with more than 2 roles, the movie was a runaway laugh riot (remember Michael Madana Kama Rajan?). 4 roles – awesome movie. 10 roles – you do the math. That was the logic.

But unfortunately, this movie has been made with the express interest of being added to the actor’s resume. Why? 20 years down the line, if he is remembered while his statue is being unveiled, the people can count this movie as being one where he has displayed his acting prowess, by starring in a bizarre piece of so-called creative cinema. But hey – why grate on our nerves to add on to your resume? Plus, the only thing true in the above line is ‘bizarre’!

So why is this movie so faaltoo? (sorry for being so blunt, but we never trashed haal-e-dil, because we never knew it had already been released! Has it?? Hell, who’s bothered?!!) Anyway, the plot – basically revolves around the travails of a troubled Indian scientist, a victim of different circumstances, as he desperately chases a vial of the most deadly virus to date– a product of synthetic biochemistry. The movie begins with a scene depicting a 12th century fight between Shivites and Vasihnavites. ‘What on earth is the relation to the plot’, you ask? Hey remember, we need 10 roles? Our friend had been back-role-creating (as in backward integration), and he thought all those who like mythological movies, may come to see that aspect! And, he now has to worry about only 9 more roles – Tadaaaa.

Ok so where does the plot start? Our protagonist is a scientist in USA. He begins by realizing the head honchos of his team have sold their consciences to the terrorists, and as usual, he is the one man army who needs to recover the vial. So, a friend by mistake sends the vial (now if the virus was so deadly, why was it callously tossed into the back seat?), by courier to India. So he somehow sneaks into the hold of a cargo plane and lands mysteriously in Chennai airport.

So 2 roles dikhe.

Now we need 8 more. So what do we do? Hey we need a bad guy. Who should you call??? ‘Kamal haasan’ (To be sung in the Ghost busters tune please. All his faces look like ghosts anyway.) So the villain of the movie Mr. Christian Fletcher, who seems to have landed from Krypton - because just like Superman, he never seems to get hurt, even if hit a billion times, or if he jumps off a tall building - is also……. Yeappp Kamal Haasan.

3 down 7 to go.

Protagonist (lets call him P) lands in India, and he is taken for questioning. Now every chor needs a pulees right? Again….. no prizes for guessing. Pulees is Kamal again, in a dorky getup.

6 more, guys… that’s all.

So how do we create more roles? Ok the recipient of the courier containing the vial is an old granny (highly annoying old woman), who, again is… I am not completing the sentence. Our dumb old granny decides to submit the vial to the Lord, and this she does by deftly walking over half a dozen shoulders (hey grandma could also have been from Krypton!) and kerplunk…. Into the Lord’s Idol goes the vial. And by now, I have lost my patience.

Oh did I mention the fact that Mallika Sherawat is in the movie too? She is just made to play the role of the moll, and nothing else, and she is bumped off pretty early on. So… go figure! A highly irritating, dumb, mad, annoying Asin grates on your nerves as she goes screaming, ranting, bellowing, shrieking – you get it right? So much for the female saviors of the movie.

Oh I forgot, we are just at panchavtar!! What about the rest? So also thought the director. So what did he decide to do? Well, give the scientist a turncoat friend, and make his wife a Japanese. Tadaaa we have a Karate master who wants to avenge his student’s death – role number 6!

Neeext – A huge Muslim guy who apparently is encountered in a freak accident between his vehicle and that of P. Role – nothing or should I say role number 7.

Oh then we have a Sardarji singer, who again has no role, save for being role number 8. He did look a lot like Gulshan Grover though!

Two more roles, two more roles!! Ok pick up an issue in Tamil Nadu - Sale of river sands - and give that issue an activist and you have role number…. 9!!! Relevance to the plot at hand? Oh shut up! Don’t ask stupid questions.

The final role – the icing on the cake – none other than oh yeah – Dubyaman!!! Old man Bush is role number 10! And of course, how can anyone resist taking pot shots at the US Prez? Yeah, so they show him as someone who doesn’t know that NaCl is common salt! NoComments!

I must say – Bush, the Sardarji, the tall Muslim guy, the villain – Fletcher and the Supergranny – all look the same – like ghosts or aliens or whatever you wanna call em!

The weirdest thing is that in all of these 10 roles, no one is the hero, and no one is the villain? Surprised? Dumbstruck? Of course man! The hero and the villain are both ‘circumstances beyond your control’. P just makes an attempt at following the vial wherever ‘circumstance’ (lets call it circy) takes it. So Circy is the villain here. And then finally a Tsunami apparently saves the day. How???? Hey don’t say I am mad. Did you know that the virus could have killed all of Tamil Nadu? Tsunami killed only a few thousands. It’s all relative mate, right Mr. Einstein?? So here Circy is the hero! Get it??? And the real domescrew is where our meek director performs a charged up, enthusiastic dance at the end of the movie praising the protagonist. Why? I don't know... If you figure it out, please lemme know.....

Sometime in the early 60s, the then superstar Sivaji Ganesan acted in a movie called Navaratri. Here he portrayed 9 roles. One of a leper, one of a doctor, one of a thief and so on. The story traces the journey of a woman from the first day of Navaratri to the 9th, as she encounters a different character each day. Compare that with Dasaavatharam. Need I say more? Mr. Kamal Haasan, you can’t be said to portray 10 roles by playing all the roles in a movie. If that were the case, what if Amitabh Bachchan had played all the roles in Satte Pe Satta including his double role, his six brothers, Amjad Khan and Hema Malini? We could also have had Dashavtar!!! But we in Bollywood would have preferred to call it ‘cost-cutting’ instead. Was this the motive? Hmmmm food for thought – what with inflation, food crisis and so on. Highly commendable. One last comparison. MI:2 also dealt with a stolen virus – Chimera. But I must say that movie was more tastefully taken, less over the top, highly interesting (in comparison, highly is an understatement), and Tom Cruise as Ethan Hunt was a billion times better. Annnnnd the plot had a clearly defined hero and villain. Not Circy.

All in all, this movie was a waste of time, money, energy. And all you ardent fans, who remember Kamal best as Nayagan, or the quadruplet in Michael Madana Kama Rajan, DON’T SEE THIS, OR THE REMAINING RESPECT FOR HIS ART WILL BE LOST.