THE MAN Who Owned Our Car!!!

Three months, and I still did not have a tinge of idea about it! One fine June evening, in my absence, a deal was made and a four-wheeler was added to our family. Of course, I knew about the second-hand Santro that we were buying, but was in the dark about THE MAN, who had actually owned the car. So impactful was the name of the first owner, that not just me, but a few friends of mine also lost their sleep over it! “Moron, you own the car. I haven’t even seen it and I still can’t sleep,” exclaimed one such friend while continuing, “Blessen, take this as a sign from God. Your car has been passed on from people, who made it big in the profession that you want to be in and I don’t even need to mention about the very first owner. You are literally in the driver’s seat, dude.”

Last Friday, the pastor and his younger son were watching CNN-IBN's discussion on the Bragelina couple’s visit to Pune. “Naah, not my kind of news,” thought the son as he headed to his room to do "better things in life (which would be Orkutting)!" This is when something that his dad uttered got him really interested and made him rush back to the hall. “How do we know that?” he asked his dad. “Check our car’s registration book and you will know. I always thought you knew that.” “No, I had absolutely no idea whatsoever!” exclaimed his son, as he scanned the very first page of the RC book, in deep shock and excitement.

Well, it so happens that our car is actually a third-hand buy. It belonged to a BBC lady journalist, who left the country leaving the onus of selling the car on her driver, whom we knew fairly well. The driver, at the time when the deal was being made, had informed my folks and bro about the initial owner of the car. But because the piece of information seemed a little too difficult to digest, my family did not really believe the driver’s 'story', which is what they thought it was-- just a 'story'. As for me, I hadn’t heard him, so there was no question of me being in the know about it. But after seeing the RC book, my dad had no choice but to believe the driver.

Apparently, the BBC journo had left the country for the fear of her life. The first owner of the Santro was kidnapped and killed by some terrorists in Pakistan. He was also a journalist, although he became renowned only after his death. He is the very reason why Bragelina is in India! The name in that registration book, which got me excited, thus making me call all my good friends at and after midnight, was of a certain gentleman called Mr. Daniel Pearl!

Beginners Guide to Traveling in Mumbai’s Local Trains

1. Travel as light as possible with little or no luggage. If you do have a luggage, then make sure you also have your name on it or else some stranger might come to the happy realization that his great grandfather’s uncle’s brother-in-law had lost a similar bag/suitcase in 1936 and stake his claim over it.

2. Avoid peak hours, which would be, let me see… ahem… almost throughout the day! Basically, avoid traveling!

3. Make sure you are not allergic to the combination of sweet ‘aroma’ of oil, fish and sweat! If you are, constant traveling will make you get used to the same.

4. If you are a first-class traveler, then be sure to apologize for accidentally pushing or stepping on someone. If you are traveling by second-class, then be street smart and blame the ‘accident’ or ‘incident’ on the person standing behind you. Before doing this, make sure there IS a person standing behind you or else, you will be in big trouble.

5. Amongst all the good qualities that a Mumbaikar possesses, politeness is NOT one of them. So, if someone is hell bent on picking up an argument with you, be polite and remain as quiet as possible. Your attitude will surprise him. The guy that is picking up the argument might just have had a fight with his wife at home and may be removing it all on you!

6. If your stop is just five stops away from the starting point, then don’t be dumb in trying to find a seat, for if you do, you may never be able to get off even after the tenth stop. Remain standing, and do so closer to the door that you will be getting off from! If you do not know which side your platform falls, then ask your co-passengers. But make sure the person you ask is not a mirror image of you yourself. You might just end up either on a wrong station or on the tracks, the latter being not a very exciting prospect!

7. If you are going to be a regular traveler, catching the same train and hoping onto the same compartment will help you make new friends. These guys will stand by you whenever there is an argument.

8. Local trains are awesome when it comes to catching up on lost sleep. The sleep that you have been deprived of for either working late in your office, or for doing assignments, or for simply chatting with your friends online through the night (I have been a victim of the last two cases). If you are a ‘long distance’ traveler within Mumbai (like I was for six and a half years), then take advantage and try sleeping for at least an hour (like I did during a good portion of these six years). You must, however, also learn to stand and sleep. This is one ‘skill’ that you would acquire over time!

9. If you indeed get a seat, consider yourself lucky and make the best use of it. But while catching up forty winks, acquire the skill of ‘staying still’. If you are a pendulum dancer like I sometimes am, then be sure that person sitting next to you has really high levels of patience! Else, the mouthings you get from that person will be music to your ears which won’t stop accompanying you unless you use the same on another person and the epidemic spreads!

10. Extremely crowded trains can be used to your advantage in terms of catching up on lost sleep. Once you have achieved the hardest task of getting inside the train, you won't have an inch to move, which is when you can just depend on the flood of ‘inactive yet alive’ bodies standing all around you. Use these bodies as your support pillars and doze off! But this is totally dependent on whether the whole of your body is actually inside the train. For if you try to doze off with half of your symmetry hanging out (don’t ask me how), then your ‘body’ will be just that—a body but with ‘dead’ added as an adjective!

11. Respect the people standing on the footboard or at the door. They might seem to be, and some of them indeed are, wanna-be Romeos, but it is because of these five gentlemen that you have some place to stand or, in some rarest of rare cases, sit! Also remember, you are at their mercy when it comes to getting down, for if they decide to stay put at their place, you sure will be caged till the point of their destination!

12. Women can make great use of traveling standing at the footboard. I have seen many women using the natural wind and air to dry their hair!

13. Avoid pressing your clothes from your home, if you travel by crowded trains (which would almost be every time). For, by the time you come out of the train, your clothes would seem like it is freshly out of the washing machine! Also, consider yourself fortunate or your shirt to be of high quality, if you have all your buttons still on!

14. ‘Beware of pick-pockets’ is a warning that appears throughout India and Mumbai is no different! The only difference being, in Mumbai, the ‘artist’ to execute this skill would be the well-dressed lady/gentleman standing near you. At times, you might feel that the train seems crowded than it actually is. Beware of situations like these, for these skilful people work in a group and are the actual creators of this ‘fake-rush’!

15. ‘Beware of homosexuals’ is NOT a warning that appears throughout India but Mumbai IS different! Guys/gals who appear over-friendly might suddenly sprout out a question—"wanna come with me for ‘fun’?" Traveling in averagely-crowded trains, you might come across someone sticking a little too close for your liking. Every time the train jerks, these people might try to hold onto you for support! Make sure you hold your bag, or whatever it is that you are carrying, in front of you acting as a ‘separation’ between you and the desperado!

Blogging To Continue...

Despite the loserly begging I did in my last post, only six comments (at the time of posting this one) was registered. Jeez, what was I thinking when I had initially put 10 as the upper limit. This six comment includes two by one person!!! So, does this mean an end to my short period of blogging? Naah... There's no easy escape from crappy writings to the not-even-a-handful visitors to my blog. The reason why I posted my last message was purely out of frustration and discouragement. I realised that if I do get discouraged by such silly matters, then I might as well call myself a real high-quality loser! My blog may not be popular and would actually be an example of one of the crappiest around, but deleting it would be an absolute waste of the time and effort I had put in posting my earlier posts, some of which has been, allow me to be a little immodest here, decent enough!!!

So, the mallu-blogging shall continue!!! I hope this pleases the five gracious 'commentators' of my previous post.


PS: One of my friends recently told me to "use my good voice to good effect and create an audio blog. Surely, you will have a greater fan following, especially amongst the fairer sex" (not exactly in the words of the person, but somewhat like this)... Well, I won't really be opening up an audio blog, but a photography blog is definitely on the cards and will soon be up!!! For the love of photographs and visual images, I hope a few more will visit that blog of mine. Right now, I am contemplating an URL that I should have for that blog. I was thinking somewhere along the lines of 'Thru the Mallu Eye'... Any suggestions???

To or Not To!!!

Off late, the amount of visitors to this blog has reduced drastically, as is evident by the 'Hit Counter' and the number of comments I have in the last two posts. Either the handful that used to visit my blog has forgotten the URL of the site, or has finally gained their senses to notice the really pathetic writings and posts. So, is there a point in me continuing to blog? I am not sure if I can yet answer that. Maybe this post can. So here’s a call to anyone who accidentally hits the URL of my blog: If you do happen to be one of those rare guests to my blog, then be kind enough to post a comment on this piece. Any number less than 10 would mean me saying ‘Bye Bye’ to the world of blogging (Am I asking for too much? I think I am. Bargaining the number down to 8.)

I left my first job because...

Your behavior a disgrace to XIC. Please put in your resignation and return ID card immediately. (sic)

This is to inform you that you have been terminated from the service according to clause 2 of the appointment letter…

For all those who came in late, you may not know that I was working with a leading media company in India at its head-office in Mumbai. Ever since I saw the imposing heritage structure, it was my dream to walk inside the premises as an employee. Not many get the privilege of realizing their dream in the very first instance they try. I did!

Although my name was never going to be seen or read by a good part of Mumbai, who swore by the most-read English daily, it still could be traced at a corner of the second page of a supplement that came along with the daily. This supplement however, was read by only those who had the time to stretch their legs, sit back and scan through the happenings of their locality. My job profile included editing and proof-reading some terribly written articles. After editing some of them, I was quite often tempted to include my name as well in the byline. So my actual post was that of a sub-editor cum reporter, although I reported for the supplement only once and am yet to see my byline in print for that! I am glad I haven’t seen my byline for that particular article for it was more a glorification of the supplement itself, as the event I covered was co-sponsored by the broadsheet.

I wasn’t great at editing and my immediate boss (IB) made that clear just second week into my job! Some of my friends still feel that the decision I made wasn’t a wise one since I left an institution that boasts of being second to none in the media industry. But they are still to understand the reasons why I walked out of my first job, quite literally! Well, I just stopped going to work without informing anyone at my workplace. That explains why my main boss (MB) text messaged the very first line of this post.

There were three instances in my three months of work that led me to take the decision to ‘walkout’, the impact of which is still being felt at the supplement. Just to clarify—these three instances form just one ‘reason’, for there are a couple of others as well!

1. The IB came and told me that the layout artists have complained against me to the MB, that I keep changing stories and headlines at the last moment. Now it so happened that despite being a fresher, a lot of artists had become my friends. I went to them to clarify, which is when I got to know the actual story. They had not even uttered my name to the MB! The complaint was against the team and my IB in particular! The IB very smartly passed on the blame to me when the MB asked her for clarifications!

2. My IB cannot come on Saturdays to work at all for reasons perhaps only she and God can tell. And the other two senior members of the team were also supposed to have their comp-offs that weekend. So it was left to me and one other colleague, who too was a relative fresher although a senior to me by around 5 months. Every person in the team is supposed to take responsibility for a page wherein a decision is to be taken as to which stories will go in that particular page. That Saturday, I took the responsibility for the first page and before calling my day off on Friday, I had clarified with the seniormost member after the boss about the stories I will be carrying and she had given me a ‘go ahead’. One of the stories that I carried on page one was an investigative report and apparently, one of the authorities that the reporter mentioned she had spoken to, said that journo had last spoken to him about four months ago! There were calls to my IB from the municipal corporation asking for clarifications. And again, I was taken to task by my IB for not ‘clarifying’ with her about the story. She had herself advised me to consult the other senior member!

3. One day, my IB decides to have a one on one chat with me, in which she tells me that she wants me to be her right hand person (whatever!). And among other things, she mentioned that the MB thinks I am the ‘weak link’ of the team! That was it. I didn’t even wait for any more ‘clarifications’! I didn't need any other sign from Above telling me to quit. I had got three in three months already!

The other factor, which is perhaps even more a reason for me leaving than the above mentioned blame-games, was the attitude of my IB! Our working day used to start anytime between 11:30 to 12:00. But for my IB, it started after 2! Why? Because it wasn’t she who worked, it was us, the lesser mortals, who were supposed to slog it out. All she had to do was to check the final product, make sure the freelancers are well paid and pass on her mistakes to others! Even before settling down after coming to work, she would head straight to the canteen along with a couple of colleagues. After having her fill, she would come back, sit at her comp and play some really childish online games, while her ‘subordinates’ stared blankly and tried to make sense out of statements, which had adjectives aplenty and pronouns in rarity, for every second person was ‘on the condition of anonymity’. Every once in a while, you could also hear her say, “I am so tired!” Tired? Of what? Pressing the direction keys of your keyboard trying to maneuver your online duck? I could see the IBs of other supplements slogging like us mortals and this Lady Lazy having a ‘perfect job’, redefining the term ‘idleness’!

Apart from these, after taking up this job, I had also felt a great deal of emptiness within me. I realized I wasn’t spending anytime with the One who took me this far! I knew I had to do something before I went too far away from my God!

The rest, as the cliché goes, is history! A couple of weeks after I gave my IB and MB a shock, I got a ‘dismissal letter’ from the HR head of the company (second line of the post is an excerpt of the letter). I don’t know what they mean by ‘You have been terminated’ for I had already terminated myself!

ICC: Idiotic Cricket Council/Idiots Creating Controversies

Cricket—just when you think the game is getting a little boring, new twists and ‘turns’ brings it back to the front pages of the newspapers. Off-the-field cricketing actions have always created newsworthy stuff for the media men. And in the past week or so, similar actions have ensured that cricket, as a sport, will never be too far away from controversies.

It all started with the Proteas calling their tour to Sri Lanka off, following a bomb blast just a couple of kilometers away from the hotel. The fear-factor reigning large on the players from Africa is understandable, considering that the term ‘bomb’ struggles its way into the international pages of the newspapers in that country. But a question begs to be asked here. With the Indian team staying back, wasn’t there a security threat for the Indian players? But then, eventually hardly a match would have actually taken place as the subsequent bilateral India-Lanka three match series had to be abandoned due to heavy rains. An anti-climax of sorts, but very much along the expected lines!

The second incident that will take some time to die down is the Pakistani boycott of post-tea session in the fourth test match against England at Oval. Darrel Hair! This name has become synonymous with controversies related to the subcontinent. This name will ring more than a thousand bells to the Lankans. The owner of this name was the first to call Muralidharan a ‘chucker’. His list of ‘chuckers’ ran large, but none in that ‘list’ included any from outside the subcontinent. The latest ‘Hair’ raising controversy includes no chuckers or an individual, but an entire team and the cricket ball. On seeing the roughed up side of the ball, Hair, along with his Caribbean colleague, Billy Doctrove, came to the conclusion that the Pakistanis were upto no good and had tampered with the ball, thus, not just calling for a new ball, but awarding England with five penalty runs! Not once did Hair or Doctrove warn the Pakistanis about their suspicion. Not a single one of the 20+ cameras caught any of the Pakistani players tampering with the condition of the ball. In fact, not even did the two umpires see any players messing around with the leather and seam! A look at the scuffed part of the ball was enough for the two to come to the conclusion that the subcontinent men had ‘brought the game to disrepute by altering the conditions of the ball’. In protest, Pakistanis who were well on their way to a consolation victory, refused to come out to the field after tea, making the two batsmen and umpires wait. The cameras focused on the closed Pakistani dressing room.

After a few anxious moments, the protesting players walked out to the field, but this time it was Hair’s turn to act childish and be the protestor! The umpires called the play off for the day and didn’t come out! The Pakistanis eventually forfeited the game—the first ever time a country has done so in the 129 year history of test match cricket!

Did Inzy and co do the right thing by not protesting in such a manner? YES! Period. ‘Childish’, people would say, but enough of Hair’s anti-Asian attitude! I am not a big fan of Pakistan, as considering their history of ball-tampering incidents; they might well have done something wrong on this ball as well. But, show us the proof, Mr Hair. ICC apparently, has decided to stand behind its umpire. This is not a surprise as the cricket’s governing body has not once, supported the cause of Asian cricket.

In 1994, when England played South Africa, the English captain Michael Artherton was caught red handed on camera applying some dust from his pocket on the cricket ball. Was that not trying to ‘alter the condition of a cricket ball’? The skipper was let off with a fine! Inzy however, faces a fine and ban of one test and/or two one-dayers! This may not be for tampering, but for leading or for that matter, not leading his team out on the field and protesting. Hair, on the other hand, will go scot-free for his counter protest. A definite case of double standards!

Who is the eventual winner in this? No one! Who lost? The people who had paid money to watch some cricketing action! And of course, the game itself!

ICC—Idiotic Cricket Council or Idiots who Create Controversies, indeed!

Retirement Plans...

“I think I’m gonna retire!”
“Why?”
“Like Ganguly, my form seems to have disappeared with age. I can’t win matches anymore.”
“Age? What age? Don’t talk rubbish. Form is temporary, class- permanent!”
This was just one of those cricketing clichés that my best pal, Vijesh used after a game, as we were brooding over ‘what could have been’. Both of us ended up being in the same team, for once, in a four-over friendly. The previous Sunday was the only other time I’d faced a delivery, after the September of 2004, when the Xavier’s ‘selector’ thought that “undedicated players” shouldn’t be a part of the team (mentioned in my first ever post). Coming back to the game, I thought my bowling in that game was lackluster, but I knew I had to make up for it with my batting. We were chasing a rather modest 26 in four. After the fall of the first wicket, Vijesh and I put up a partnership as we inched closer towards an easy victory. But, just as we needed five of the last over, Vijesh was run out and I was left with having to score just five of the last five. ‘Easy’, one would think, considering I have accomplished more difficult asks earlier. But Appu is one of those bowlers I hate to face. He has been my nemesis time and over again. And as this left handed batsman played and missed the second ball from the left-handed bowler, I knew this wasn’t going to be as easy as the equation suggested.
Five of four. But Appu’s impeccable line did me in again as I charged down and missed again.
Five of three. I just couldn’t trust the batsman at the other end for, to borrow Geoffrey Boycott’s words, ‘my mum could play better than him’. I made up my mind to stay in the crease and play the ball according to its merit. The ball was on my legs and I flicked it down to the fine-leg area, but alas, only if runs were allowed behind the wickets. We were not playing eleven-a-side and therefore, couldn’t afford to keep men behind the wickets.
Five of two. A thousand thoughts ran through my mind as I was clueless about what my PoA will be in the next delivery. Another excellent delivery and I played and missed. Again!
Five of one! I had no choice but to go down the track in this ball. Appu marked his run-up and ran in with the green coloured tennis ball gripped firmly on this left hand. And as soon as the ball released itself from the think yet long fingers, I charged down the pitch. The ball turned out to be a full-toss close to my legs. I heaved it to the leg side, this time making sure it stayed in front of the wicket. Vijesh let out a huge cry, seeing the ball high and seemingly about the clear the field. But to his dismay and to my own, the ball bounced about five metres within the boundary. As I was jogging the 22-yards watching the ball sail high and bouncing twice, I was pleased to even secure a tie. But wait! It wasn’t over. I thought the ball might hit the iron fence. It would have, but for that narrow ditch dug up just before the fence. The ball died inches before the fence inside the ditch only to be picked up by a joyous fielder. We lost! I banged my bat to the green grass and looked up to the heavens.
I couldn’t help wondering to myself—‘Blessen, the match-winner is dead! Blessen, the cricketer is dead!’ But again, inevitably, an ‘inner voice’ (or was it Vijesh?) told me, “He never will.”

When the nation prayed for a Prince!!!

Scenes that one occasionally see in Hollywood movies came alive, as a good part of the nation, glued to news channels, prayed for the ‘re-arrival’ of a five-year-old Prince. Well, he was five when he fell in the 60-ft-deep pit, six when he came out! No one would ever want to spend their birthday inside a dark cavity. But, almost every one would love it when an entire nation wishes him/her. The irony however, was such that the birthday boy himself did not even know that he had become the talk of the town, rather, of the country.

A walk down the roads from my ‘new town’ to my ‘old village’ was enough to convince me that the Indians were desperately in need of some positive news. The TV mechanic shops had a flood of people around it watching the army try hard to get the little six-year-old out of darkness, literally. The motorists, for once, were not complaining of the jams that the crowd caused. Last time, someone saw this many out on the roads catching a glimpse of television screen was perhaps when Sachin Tendulkar was going berserk against the Pakistani bowlers at the 2003 world cup. For once, the nation was rejoicing, and the reason was not cricket!

As the jawan brought Prince out wrapped in a white blanket, shouts of joy and celebrations en masse was just a matter of time. A little tap on the jawan’s back with a stick by his senior officer. The Prince was alive and ready to celebrate, finally, with the nation. Noise of the fire-crackers could not quite match the one that followed Indian victory against Pakistan, but sure sounded sweeter. Proxy cake-cuttings ensued and ‘vote of thanks’ rose to the heavens, even as Prince’s mother did the latter to the nation.

'Prince'- the name itself had no caste or religion! He could have been a Hindu, a Sikh, a Muslim or a Christian! Many are yet to know about it. I don't even want to! All that mattered was that he was an Indian and a six-year-old at that. The nation wept together, the nation bit its nails together, the nation prayed together, the nation finally celebrated together!!!

Happy Birthday, Prince. Long Live the Prince!

...

I can sum up the recent happenings of Mumbai in just these few lines!!!

Rain, Riots and Blasts...
Flood, Fury and Fanatics...
What IS happenning IN Mumbai???
Yet, nothing WILL happen TO Mumbai!!!


Blogger's Note: The headline is left with just three dots on purpose, indicating I have nothing much to say!!!

A Shoulder To Lean On!

There are times when one desires to be close to someone. Someone who would listen to you—your ramblings and cribbing. Someone on whose shoulder you can lean on and cry your heart out. Someone, who can pick you up when you are down. A close friend, with whom you can pour your heart out. I had gone through similar cravings. But those remained just that, cravings until I came to a beautiful realisation of that Someone who I know will always be there!

Many a time, this thin shoulder of mine has been a place where a head leaned on and some tears found a resting place. My ears have been a recipient of a lot of stories that flowed along with the liquid of the eye.

There were times when at the point of breaking down, I always somehow manage to keep it within myself. I know the friends that I can rely on will all be there for me, but they are at most times, a little too far for comfort.

This is when I stumble upon the beautiful hymn:

What a friend we have in Jesus,
All our sins and grieves to bear,
Oh what privilege to carry?
Everything to Lord in prayer!

Oh, what peace we often forfeit?
Oh what needless pain we bear?
All because we do not carry,
Everything to Lord in prayer!

Can we find a friend so faithful,
Who will all our sorrows share?
Jesus knows our every weakness
Take it to the Lord in prayer

The hymn has been my ultimate encourager! And when I started sharing all my sorrows to God, I felt someone not just lending me a shoulder, but carrying me on it. When I was down, He lifted me up and when I was empty, He filled my cup. I felt lighter and from that point on, a smile always lingered on some corner of my face. One of my closest friends once asked me, “Blessen, how do you manage to have a smile even when you don’t go through the best of times?” It was the comfort of God at play!

'Soccer' or 'Football'???

Some call it the ‘soccer’ world cup while some others refer to it as the ‘football’ world cup. I play safe by calling it the ‘FIFA World Cup’! So, what exactly is the actual name of the game, where 20 players kick around and fight for an eight-inch diameter ball, while two at the extreme ends of the ground in a different form of clothing are the only ones allowed to handle and kick as well? Well, the fact is that in India, you will be correct if you label the game with any of these names. But in US (Oh, these Americans!), if you want to see ‘football’, chances are you will be taken to a see 30 ‘huge’ men fighting (quite literally), kicking, running around and doing all sorts of things with an eye shaped ball. The score line will read similar to that of a 5-over cricket game. Dubya’s men call this game (which is very similar to rugby) ‘American Football’.

But the origin of the word ‘soccer’ has a little interesting story behind. The game of rugby football was very famous in the UK towards the end of the nineteenth century and so was the trend, started by the Oxford University students, of adding ‘er’ as a suffix to every shortened word! Rugby football was referred to as ‘rugger’ (‘rug’ of rugby+ er). Charles Brown, a student of the University, was asked if he played ‘rugger’. A witty reply flowed from Brown’s mouth, “No, Soccer!” Witty, because ‘soccer’ as a term never existed at that time and the Oxfordian had shortened Football Association as ‘soc’ and added ‘er’ to the word. A new term, ‘soccer’, was born and possibly, and in a way, a new sport was born too! Brown went on to represent England in soccer. The rest, as the cliché goes, is history as soccer became one of the widely used terms in the sporting world and needless to say, the game itself is undoubtedly, the most popular sport!

After Thought: For me, ‘Football’ seems to be an apt term to describe the “the beautiful game”. Unlike its American counterpart, the game minus for the goal-keepers, only involves the legs unless the ball is out of play. ‘American Football’ should actually be called something like ‘American do-anything-with-the-ball’ or ‘Americans fighting-over-a-ball’!

Eat Your Words, Mr Chappell!!!

“West Indies have forgotten how to win!” Greg Chappell made a statement to this effect to the media just before the Indian squad left for its tour to the Windies. Five one-day matches later, Brian Lara and co have ensured that the Aussie had to swallow his words. The final score line that reads 4-1 is a far cry from what Mr Chappell would have imagined. The Indian team, having convincingly defeated Sri Lanka and England at home, was at its peak of confidence as they left for their venture in the Caribbean. But after two weeks of cricket in the islands, a huge question mark hangs over the team’s ability to perform abroad.

Now that the series is over, post mortems have already begun in the media. A team that was languishing at the eight spot in the ICC’s ODI rankings humbled the third placed team, considered about three weeks ago to be favourites for the 2007 world cup. Chappell’s policies and experimentations were praised and even this blogger, in an earlier post (Indian Cricket… On its Way!!!) had ‘expressed’ his happiness on the progress of the Indian team. But I had also mentioned- It is very important that India does not get too carried away for most of these wins happened in the sub-continent. The real test will come when India visits the Caribbean next month as the World Cup will take place there in 2007. They have to maintain the standards they have set and prove, more to themselves, that they are ready to rule the world.

What I feared came true! Indian team did get carried away. The standards they had set for themselves weren’t maintained, especially while batting! More than the Indian team, it seemed it was their coach who got a little too carried away. Making a statement like that was really uncalled for, no matter how weak your opponents are! Brian Lara, in fact, made it clear that it was Chappell’s statement that made them push that much harder to almost blank out the Indian team. Something that Chappell’s predecessor, John Wright was respected for was his ability to respect his opponents and open his mouth only when it was needed. Chappell’s true Australian attitude came to the fore when made that statement. The West Indians made sure that he not only had to eat his words, but also was made to pay for it! Arrogance is good, but only when on the field. Off the field, one might do well to mind one’s own business and I am afraid the Aussie failed in it. Every sport is won or lost out on the playing area.

Blaming Chappell alone won’t be fair, for the young players performed way below par. But what were selectors thinking when they knew Sachin won’t be available for the ODIs? It was obvious Robin Uthappa won’t be a part of the squad until about the last match. He was the only other opening batsman along with Sehwag, as the selectors conveniently ignored a few experienced hands. Yes, I am talking about Sourav Ganguly. Expecting Dravid to do well every time he came out to open was asking a bit too much from the Indian skipper. VVS Laxman, the other player to have done well in the last tour to West Indies, also missed the ODI bus. It’s alright to pick youngsters, but when on a tour, it is safer that you carry a couple of experienced heads too! Indian selectors would do well to remember that next time they pick a squad. Also, surprising is the omission of Ajit Agarkar for test matches, the best Indian bowler during the ODIs. One really can’t comprehend the logic behind Mr More and Co’s decision.

But, I hope Greg Chappell, More and more importantly the Indian team proves me wrong and retains its pride my winning the test series in the West Indies. They have the ability. All they have to do is to put it to good use. Easier said than done, I suppose!

Someone's Missing from the Field, Mate!!!

A really funny and strange incident happened on the cricket field today. It’s my first and possibly the first ever time in the world of cricket! Second ODI between India and West Indies… The Caribbean side has lost two wickets with the board reading just 16 runs. Ajit Agarkar just completed the eight over of the West Indian innings. Irfan Pathan starts a fresh over. Batsman on strike—Ramnaresh Sarwan and at the non-striker’s end is the great Brian Lara! Pathan bowls and the bowl hits Sarwan’s left pad and rolls about three metres away from the crease. The batsmen quickly call for a single and goes for it. Suresh Raina, who had just dropped Lara’s catch in the previous over, reaches the ball in a flash and with a little underarm throw, disturbs the stumps. The Indians start to appeal. Raina looks around appealing. Sehwag, standing at square leg turns around to appeal to the square leg umpire. He throws up his arm, but soon realises there is someone missing there. The square leg umpire! Where is he??? The Indians are scanning the infield to find the whereabouts of a gentleman in blue formal shirts. The cameras manage to catch him walking in with both his hands half raised from behind the wicket-keeper. Mr. Billy Doctrow was apparently adjusting something next to the sight screen and not a soul noticed this man walking off! The Indians are stunned, the West Indians are stunned, the crowd is stunned, the commentators on air are stunned and more importantly (or is it funnily?), the two umpires themselves are stunned! After a long discussion, the umpires decide to call it a ‘dead ball’. Dravid clearly wasn’t amused at the incident but Harbhajan saw the funny side to it (and so did this blogger)! Although Lara was safely home, it would have been interesting how the Indians would have reacted had he not made his ground!

Funny or not, it sure makes up for an interesting tale to share to our grandchildren (considering they are cricket buffs as well). One can always say or at least I will, “I was there! Well, at least watching it live!”

The Da Vinci Code- Popular among Protestors!!!

A good majority of Christians all over India are protesting against the release of the movie, the Da Vinci Code! So, what is my opinion regarding the protests? A staunch Christian that I am, one might expect me to support those protesting against the release. ‘RUBBISH’ is what I’ll say. In fact, you might just find me protesting (if there was any) against the protestors of the release.
A few dignified Catholics formed a part of the censor committee to review the film and amongst them, were the Director of my institute (or should I say former?) XIC, Fr Myron Pereira and former Police Commissioner of Mumbai, Julio Rebeiro. The committee cleared the film minus any cuts only asking the producers to put up a disclaimer saying the film is purely fiction. Still, doubts lingered over the release as protests intensified. My questions to the protestors are these—
When Christian countries the world over including Italy and US didn’t have any objection, why India why? Why can’t we treat this as just a fictional story?
In fact, protestors have made sure that the film has got undue popularity although the reviews from Cannes Film Festival suggest that the film was disappointing. A lot more people who perhaps didn’t even know what the Da Vinci Code was all about would now want to watch the movie! Protests against Dan Brown’s book by the same name no doubt, increased its popularity. The fact that other Brown’s books weren’t as popular as the Code drives home this point. I recently finished reading the book and I must say that I wasn’t too impressed with it. The story sure was interesting and intriguing but I’m not sure if I admired the style of writing (and the ending I thought was slack). But there is another point to be noted here! Some people who read the book didn’t completely take it as fiction, which is why I agree with the censor board to add in a disclaimer. One of my brother’s friends, after reading the book commented in front of my bro, perhaps unaware that the latter was preacher’s son, “This is the end of Christianity man! Christianity ka toh waat lag gaya!” (or something along those lines) Because Mr. Brown mixed a lot of fiction with little facts, some were of the impression that what he wrote were only facts! Few people bother to turn the book and notice a portion of the bind which reads ‘Fiction’.

The foundation of Christianity wasn’t laid by a few mortal men who wrote the gospels and the rest of the Bible. It was laid by Someone who walked on this earth, performed miracles and died a criminal’s death only to be resurrected on the third day. How then can one think that this foundation will be shaken by a badly-made movie or a fictional book? Over the years, many such books have come out, some even claiming to be non-fiction, but not one was able to do any harm to the faith!
All I’ll say to those who object to the movie is, ‘If you don’t like the movie, then don’t watch it!’ It is as simple as that! Believe in the four gospels. Don’t make Dan Brown’s The Da Vinci Code, the fifth gospel! It (both the book and the movie) is after all just a fiction!

An Encounter!!!

We were done for the day (night would be more appropriate). A nice, yet stinky Marine Drive breeze hitting our faces as we were lazily trying to move on. Rishi’s treat at Pizza Hut was yet to get digested. At least that was so in my case! We had refreshed ourselves by little cuttings and a strong coffee. Pooja and I were supposed to head towards VT (now CST) and the rest towards Churchgate.

Suddenly, a family of three approaches us. A 30-something man, a lady and a child. The lady is holding a little bag and the child’s hand is firmly gripped on his dad’s. The man closes in on Rishi and all of us are almost certain he is here asking for directions. But to our surprise, he asks the birthday boy, who turned 22, for some money. Apparently, the family hadn’t eaten anything! Rishi just nods his head giving a reply in the negative, the reason for which is in his blog. The man looked disappointed. Home-bound people, meanwhile, are trying to cross the road. I can’t help but feel extremely bad for the family. ‘They look hungry and lost,’ I think aloud besides adding aloud to my friends, “I feel bad yaar.” I understand why Rishi denied giving them a helping hand. These days, whom do you actually trust and believe? Rishi’s earlier experience had taught him a few lessons. He wasn’t going to make the same mistake again. But, as all of us somehow crossed the road, my mind is deeply troubled. From across the road, I see the family approaching a couple facing the sea. The couple also seemed reluctant to help. They get up and walk away. The family sits down facing the road watching the speeding vehicles in front of them. My eyes go back time and again to the three especially to the little thing sitting between his parents. “I am feeling really bad yaar. I feel like I should give them something!” Mayura and Pooja tell me to “go ahead.” But at the back of my mind, I am also wary of the fact that you can’t trust every person and especially here in this great city. I finally heed to my friends and instincts and cross back walking towards the sea-phase. The man sees me approaching. He’s sharing a packet of mixture with his family. I suddenly feel a ray of hope in that man’s eyes as he sees me get closer to him. I had already removed a ten-rupee bill from my wallet and kept it in my hand. I am about a hand’s distance away from the man as I hold out the bill to him. He takes it willingly, folds it in half and keeps it in his shirt pocket. I ask him his whereabouts and how he landed up in Mumbai. I learn that he is from this place called Yavatmaal and had come to Mumbai to meet his brother. But his brother, in the meantime, had gone to Manmad and he had no clue where he lived. ‘How can someone come to this huge city without even knowing where he lived?’ I ponder. But at the very next moment I realize that this is after all Mumbai. He continues that he needs about 150 bucks per person to reach his place. And they were chucked off from the train by a TC as the trio was traveling ticketless. “Now we don’t have money to eat. Only if we could get money to buy one ticket, we could have adjusted.” I sense that he expects more than the tenor I gave him. A thought crosses my mind whether I should part with another tenor. But I decide it is best for that tenor to remain untouched for the time being in my wallet. I just vaguely say something and heads back towards my friends standing on the other side. I say to Vanessa, “I might as well be fooled rather than feel bad for not having done anything.” After hearing their story, I am a little put off, although deep within I don’t know whether to accept what that guy said whole-heartedly.

I am still not sure whether what I did was the right thing. All I knew is, I had parted with ten bucks and that, considering the situation, didn’t mean big to me. I had much more in my wallet. I don’t even know if what I did was charity. But I definitely know that it made me feel slightly better. As I walked back with my friends, I kept thinking ‘we had filled our stomachs with food that cost us more than half a grand.’ It made me think about all the other families. Then, realization dawned. I shouldn’t really be going too far thinking about other such families struggling for money. An example of that, was in my very home. My dad in his youth! It made my eyes dense. But I concealed it pretty well and made sure the liquid doesn’t roll over to my cheek, as the birthday boy walking alongside me was on the phone answering yet another birthday wish!


(My dad’s story is stuff for a later blog)

Not Just A 'MOM'!!!

So, another Mothers’ Day just passed by without this blogger wishing his dear mom! I got this email recently, the writer of which is anonymous. But, it can really make one think! When we go across looking around at people’s profession, ‘mother’ as such never figures as an occupation. I dedicate this post to all the mothers around the world. (Not that any mother reads my blog. But here’s wishing all those moms whose children take pain (almost literally) to visit my blog—a belated Happy Mothers’ Day!!! I wont do much talking here… the piece that I got through email should speak a lot about what a ‘mother’ is all about and proves that a ‘mother’ is not actually just a ‘mother’!!!

A woman named Emily renewing her driver's license at the County Clerk's office was asked by the woman recorder to state her occupation. She hesitated, uncertain how to classify herself.
"What I mean is," explained the recorder, "do you have a job, or are you just a..."
"Of course I have a job," snapped Emily. "I'm a mother."
"We don't list 'mother' as an occupation... 'Housewife' covers it," said the recorder emphatically.
I forgot all about her story until one day I found myself in the same situation, this time at our own Town Hall. The clerk was obviously a career woman, poised, efficient, and possessed of a high sounding title like, "Official Interrogator" or "Town Registrar."
"What is your occupation?" she probed.
What made me say it, I do not know... The words simply popped out. "I'm a Research Associate in the field of Child Development and Human Relations."
The clerk paused, ballpoint pen frozen in midair, and looked up as though she had not heard right. I repeated the title slowly, emphasizing the most significant words. Then I stared with wonder as my pronouncement was written in bold, black ink on the official questionnaire.
"Might I ask," said the clerk with new interest, "just what you do in your field?"
Coolly, without any trace of fluster in my voice, I heard myself reply, "I have a continuing program of research, (what mother doesn't), in the laboratory and in the field, (normally I would have said indoors and out). I'm working for my Masters, (God as well as my whole family), and already have four credits, (all daughters). Of course, the job is one of the most demanding in the humanities, (any mother care to disagree?) and I often work 14 hours a day (24 is more like it). But the job is more challenging than most run-of-the-mill careers and the rewards are more of a satisfaction rather than just money."

There was an increasing note of respect in the clerk's voice as she completed the form, stood up, and personally ushered me to the door.
As I drove into our driveway, buoyed up by my glamorous new career, I was greeted by my lab assistants - ages 13, 7, and 3. Upstairs I could hear our new experimental model, (a 6 month old baby), in the child-development program, testing out a new vocal pattern. I felt triumphant! I had scored a beat on bureaucracy! And I had gone on the official records as someone more distinguished and indispensable to mankind than "just another mother."
Motherhood--What a glorious career!
Does this make grandmothers "Senior Research Associates in the field of Child Development and Human Relations" and great grandmothers "Executive Senior Research Associates"? I think so!
This Sunday, don't forget the Research Associates. God sure cherishes every one of them!

The Predictions and The Results!!!

‘I am terrible with predictions and I won’t hesitate to eat my words. But I hope I don’t have to!’
--Me, a couple of posts earlier….

The results are out and I guess I had to eat my words… but mind you... only in one case!

Tamil Nadu
My Prediction: Amma retaining power.
Outcome: Dark shades are back! Mr. Karunanidhi had some surprises in store for me. This is one place where my political brain got it all wrong. It was indeed the DMK-led Democratic Progressive Alliance that romped home winning 161 out of 234 seats, thus gaining a clear majority. However, unlike AIADMK last time, DMK will be at the mercy of the Congress Party as despite being the single largest party, it fell way short (93) of the figures required for the majority (118). So, while DMK can play its cards at the Centre, Congress can do the same in Tamil Nadu. Both parties will have to accommodate and appease each other.
CM: Who else, but the man who sleeps with his shades on—M Karunanidhi.

But in the other four states, I seem to have got it reasonably right.

Kerala
My Prediction: Left Democratic Front (LDF) coming to power.
Outcome: While the scoreline might suggest that it was an easy ride for the Left with victory in 95 seats out of 140, it (scoreline) took many poll analysts by surprise. Not many believed that UDF (United Democratic Front) will get more than 30 seats. The tally of 43 seats therefore, wasn’t too bad a performance. It’s hightime that Karunakaran starts thinking of hanging his political boots. His newly formed party could win just a solitary seat as his own son Muraleedharan faced his consecutive election loss! BJP, as expected, still hasn’t opened its account.

CM: There are two candidates for the CM’s post here—Achuthananthan and Palloli Mohammadkutty. Penarai Vijayan, who I thought had a chance, doesn’t seem to figure in the scheme of things.

Off the topic: Karunakaran’s newly formed party is called Democratic Indira Congress followed by the initial of his name in the brackets, which when converted into an abbreviated form will read DIC(K)… Ahem… I wont comment any more on that.

West Bengal
My Prediction: Left Front
Outcome: Buddha smiles yet again!!! As if anyone had any doubts about that! The only question at West Bengal (which will soon start to read as Left Bengal) was the margin of victory. I will just let the numbers speak for itself. The Left Front garnered 231 out of 294 seats. Here, the CPM alone can form the next government winning 173 seats, comfortably ahead of the required majority of 148. With these kind of numbers, there was little Left for others like the Trinamool Congress and the Congress.
CM: Who else… Buddha is smiling again, as I said…. Bhattacharjee!

Assam
My Prediction: Congress may retain power but will find it difficult to gain numbers to form the majority.
Outcome: Out of the 126 seats, the Congress along with a couple of independents have won 54 falling short of the majority by 10 seats. Now as I’d predicted, the situation here gets interesting! This is one state where the ‘significant others’ will play a major role. There are 20 independents in the ‘Other’ category and these are bound to the ‘king-makers’ in the state. Besides the ‘Others’, the newly formed Assam United Democratic Front (AUDF), that won 8 seats, will have a say in the formation of the next government. One reason why the Congress managed to scrape despite the anti-incumbecy that was supposed to work against them, was Prafulla Kumar Mahanta’s faction of Asom Gana Parishad (Progressive) [AGP(P)] and the BJP digging into the ‘original’ AGP’s votebank. It is also said that AUDF ate up a lot of Congress’ votes. While Congress might just about manage to form the new government, the picture is still not clear as to who will be the next CM. It is very likely that Tarun Gogoi might well be the man, again.

Pondicherry
My Prediction: Congress will complete a hat-trick.
Outcome: The Congress-led DPA won 21 out of 30 seats. But the Congress will have to cling on to its partner DMK to remain in power. As I had predicted, a few rebel candidates proved to be a bane for the DPA, yet it wasn’t enough to keep them out of power. AIADMK could garner just six seats completing a bad phase of elections for Amma.
CM: R Rangaswamy

Meanwhile, at the Rae Barelli re-elections to the Lok Sabha, Mamma Gandhi won by a whooping four lakh votes! All the other candidates, excepting one, lost their election deposits. This really begs the question—why were this election held in the first place when the result was a foregone conclusion. Just another way to spend (read waste) people’s money, I suppose!

So, there you go... since we are playing with numbers... an 80% success rate in my predictions ain't too bad, heh? Especially when it concerns Indian politics where anything can happen any time!!


Note: All the numbers mentioned in this post are during the time of going to blog and can vary with little or no difference.

An Obituary...

Rest In ‘Pieces’…
In affectionate remembrance of Mr./Ms. ‘Anon’ whose brains died a slow death after reading this very blog about a couple of times. The untimely death of his/her sense of judgment has left us all in deep shock. He/She is mourned by all my partners-in-blog. His/her legendary piece of work can be found in my blog (at the tag-board) and possibly, in a few other blogs that he/she decided to honour! The body of his/her other work/s could never be found, as he/she feared Kavya-Vishwanathism and his/her inspirational work might make others follow suit on his blog. He/She is survived by his/her family members—Coward, Insulter, Mean, Jobless etc etc.
I dedicate this obiturial blog post to that great sole (can also be read as soul) who time and again, helped me in increasing the count in my HIT COUNTER!

Stanley... Healed and Being Healed!!!

“Stanley, do you know you are standing at an obtuse angle?”
Stanley gave no reply to my query, instead just stood there at 100 degrees continuing his talk with the children. But the pain was written all over his face. He could no longer perform action-songs at a stretch. Even as he sat down, the upper-part of his body was at an angle that seemed uncomfortable even for those that saw him. Stanley was in pain. His back was giving way and the grimace on his face said it all! Both hands on his waist, he was struggling to stand, sit and sleep.

A few days later, I heard he was admitted to a hospital nearby. I paid a visit and saw his back suspended to weights. Yet, he had his ever-optimistic look on his face. His mother, bed-ridden for two years, wasn’t next to him. Neither was his father, who had to take care of the household all by himself. Stanley slept on his hospital bed with a Bible, a spiritual book and an occasional visitor or two to give him company. My visit, it seemed, brought with it a wider smile. Doctors had advised him to be ‘suspended’ like this for three weeks after which they will review his status. X-rays had revealed that not everything was right.

Three weeks had passed and there were no signs of improvement. MRI scans and tests were conducted and the results were not encouraging. Stanley’s L-5 Bone in his spinal column was damaged and needed immediate replacement. Stanley will have to undergo an operation on his back. The doctors stated that without an operation, in two years, he may end up in bed paralyzed from waist down forever! But they also could also not guarantee him the chances of that not happening even with an operation. Although, he was out of the hospital bed, he knew he will have to make a decision pretty soon. He was just 19. Stanley was having nightmares of him limping along.

Stanley, who was a firm believer in God, looked up to the heavens, quite literally. Every night as the world around him slept, he used to go to the terrace and cry out to God asking for deliverance. He knew healing was round the corner.

During one of our seminars in Gujarat, as the preacher spoke from the Word, Stanley started experiencing an increase in his faith. The preacher called out people to the stage saying, “Believe that healing is yours for the taking and testify before Him.” Stanley, who was sitting a row in front of me, got up and marched towards the stage testifying that God has touched him. He says, he believed and that mattered! A few days after he returned home, it was his mother who told him that he had not been using the belt that the doctors had prescribed him to wear till his operation. He, himself never noticed the healing. He never again went to the doctor, but has saved his MRI results to show the world the mercy that his Saviour endowed on him. Stanley is 23 now! Very much alive and kicking!

But as he recovered from his back trouble that threatened to make him bed or wheel-chair-ridden, he had to confront another problem in his life. Yet again, it was his mother who noticed a patch of hair missing from the back of his head. And as Stanley inspected the patch wit his hand, a good chunk of hair came out with it. He ignored the problem for sometime, but every now and then when I banged into him inside the Xavier’s campus, I could see the patch developing bigger and covering a majority of his head. I told him, an African continent is developing in his head! He shaved off his head in the hope that they might come back, but to no avail! Very soon he lost all the hair from his body and this time there were no signs of them growing back. One day as Stanley came for our ICPF meeting, I noticed that he had lost his eyebrows. Stanley was looking very different from the time that I saw him last and that was just a week back. Pretty soon, he was to lose all the hair from his body. “I hated looking at myself in the mirror,” said Stanley. This one-of-a-kind problem of complete loss of hair is called alopecia areata universalis. Alopecia areata is considered an autoimmune disease, in which the immune system, which is designed to protect the body from foreign invaders such as viruses and bacteria, mistakenly attacks the hair follicles, the tiny cup-shaped structures from which hairs grow. Ask former FIFA referee Collina of Italy. This is indeed a rare disease; a disease, that can make people stand and stare at you. And one of my best friends was suffering from it and was having a tough time coping with it.

It was at this time that Stanley went to the South Asian Biblical College in Bangalore. This, he says, did him a world of good. He was away from the people he knew so well and had seen him. Just what he had wanted. At a new atmosphere, people around will accept him as he was! He looked up to the heavens, quite literally, once again. At midnight hours, when his co-students around slept, Stanley explored the big open ground, sat down and cried out looking to the skies. One of his friends at SABC advised him to go for a hair transplant, at least at the eyebrows! Stanley, to please the friend said “I’ll look into it.” But what he really was looking was ‘unto God’. For he knew, medicines again could not guarantee him hair growth.

A dawn of a new day brought with it an increase in faith for Stanley. He had avoided the mirror on most occasions, but that day he felt like staring at himself. He looked at his own reflection, something he’d hated for a long time! He stared again and closer he went for a better inspection. There was a little growth right at the corner of where his eyebrows were supposed to be. Stanley knew he was witnessing and experiencing yet another miracle.

I met Stanley next time at Ulhasnagar station on our way to ICPF. “Stanley!” I exclaimed, “You have hair on your eyebrows and you have side-locks too!!!” “Yes,” said Stanley calmly! And hair continues to grow all over his body again; he just can’t stop praising the One who showered His mercy on him.

'Conned' vocation!!!

At the memorial service of an old family friend. You want to stay back but at the back of your mind, you know you got to attend the convocation ceremony due in about three hours. You decide to miss half of the memorial service and whole of the funeral following up and rush back home, have your lunch, rest for some time and then dresses up in the 'formal' dresscode prescribed by the Institute. You reach the campus about 45 minutes early.

Now let the first person take over...

I meet a few classmates there who arrive one after the other all 'dressed up' in formals, looking smart. We are all looking forward to our names being called out a few minutes later. After a little bit of usual banter about the party the previous night where I was "missed", we slowly make our move towards the large and magnificent college hall. I remember my first gathering in college was also at the college hall just before I started my college life in FYJC. Appropriately, it will also end, six years later, inside the same college hall. I had my dad sitting next to me that time but this time, unlike a few of my other friends, I do not bring my folks (Mom and Bro at the funeral and Dad in US). I wished they could have come to see their son go up and collect the diploma, but circumstances!

We take our seats towards the left of the auditorium and wait as the compere takes the stage and asks us to stand for the XIC hymn. After about 90 seconds of a really silent hymn, we are told to sit down. I crack my usual PJs there... ("I think she was referring to 'him' who is silent there"). We are again told to stand up as the technical glitches are sorted out and the hymn plays on, finally. We sit down after 'We are here to praise You'. The guests and the who's who are introduced after which a presentation of best works of the students of every course is shown starting off with 'Reaping New Lives', a documentary done by a group of students from Journalism that included my partner-in-blog, Pooja. A flurry of other presentations followed. I was waiting for our news magazine 'Maximum City' to be showed on the big screen and appreciated! But the lights came on after the last presentation (which wasn't ours) and the chief guest was introduced to speak! Hey, what happened to our news programme? My classmate sitting two chairs away to my right said that every class is alloted only 10 minutes of their work to be presented! Alas... My first disappointment!

After the chief guest's speech, the awards for the best students in various categories were given out! We were all now on our marks ready to get up and collect our diploma's as soon as our names were called out. The friend sitting next to me donned his overcoat in anticipation, which so far was in his hands. And the classmate sitting behind him had his overcoat on right through the function!

The compere then announced, "All the students are requested to please collect their Diploma Certificates from their respective course assistants outside the college hall. We request the staff and guests to please join us for dinner at the college canteen to your left and the students can have their refreshments from the back of the hall." "Is it over?" I remarked! That was it! It was all over just like that! Angry, frustrated, sad, disappointed, I got up from my seat. Feeling slightly relieved that I didn't make a fool of myself by overdressing! I went out and collected my certi! 'Chindi' was the first word that came to my mind after seeing the certi!

I was introduced to their folks by my friends, some of whom had come from far far far away to see their daughters receiving their diplomas amidst thundering ovation. (the guys in journo were all mumbaikars) Everyone would leave with a heavy heart!

I decided to check out the 'refreshments'. I'd told at home not to prepare dinner for me cause' there was dinner at our convocation. Or so I thought! The refreshements consisted of a bag of chips and God-knows-what inside the brown paperbag for I didn't even open the bag. "More chindigiri" I cried! Is this the reason why I paid all that money? I guess to become a journalist!

Craving for good food, I went with Sago and gang for a bite at McDs. XIC's got to learn a lot about event-management and convocations. (among a lot of other things which is best left untold)!

A day that had begun with such good hopes turned out to be an absolute dampener! Funeral would have been so much better. Connedvocation indeed! Grrrrr..........

Sporting Legends of Our Era!!!

“Hey, am just thinking. What to post next in my blog?”
“Hmm… write something about Roger Federer!”
“What about him? But you know what? You have given me another idea!”
“What?”
“Think about this… the era that we are living in… and think about all the sporting legends it has produced! I think I’m gonna write a blog about that… The legends that this era that we live in, produced. Take Cricket for example! We have/had so many of them—Sachin, Lara, Warne, Akram, Dravid, Waugh etc etc.”
“But don’t you think there was something amiss about these guys that set the legends of an earlier era apart! Maybe it’s consistency. See Don Bradman for example”
“True, but since we weren’t a part of those earlier eras, we really can’t say much about them, can we? Maybe they also lacked something that we don’t know about. And I don’t think we can compare Don with any of these guys. He was way ahead of the field. But, it’s also not fair to compare two different eras. I’m just telling you how fortunate we are to have so many sporting legends in our era”
“Yup, that’s also true!”
“C’mon, did you hear of any cyclist before Lance Armstrong?”
“No.”
“Neither have I”
“And Michael Jordan revolutionalized basketball in a way”
“Yea, there were a few before him whom we could call ‘legends’ but none like him!”
“Tennis! There are so many! Pistol Pete Sampras tops the list followed by Andre Agassi. In women, we have Steffi Graf and, Martina Navratilova started playing again at 45! That is what legends are made of!”
“Remember, when everyone had counted Sampras out, he knew he had one more big one left for him! And there it was! US Open! What a way to end a career!”
“I do believe Agassi too, has one big one left.”
“And of course, your favourite Roger Federer is on his way to legendom.”
“Yeyeye!!!”
“And then we have F1. Love him or hate him, Schumi is the best!”
“But I think there will be debates over whether he is the best ever.”
“True. BUT we can’t compare two eras as I mentioned earlier and now, Alonso is on his way too.”
“How can we forget the golfing god, Tiger Woods!!!”
“Yes! It would have been a cardinal sin had we left him out of our list!”
“Ronaldinho! A legend in the making!”
“Definetely. That guy is a magician! I'd hate to be a defender when the ball is with him!”
“We also have Valentino Rossi in motor-bike, Mcgrath, Muralitharan and still a few others in cricket, Ian Thorpe and Michael Phelps in swimming! The list just goes on and on.”
“Don’t forget Gary Kasparov in chess! 'Genius' would be an understatement when we refer to this Russian! And there are still other sports about which we don’t have much knowledge about!”
“I’m sure, we missed out on a lot of names there.”
“The best part about this era is that these guys are actually becoming legends from a very young age.”
“I just hope there are more to come.”


Note 1: This is a corrupted version of a conversation between Sami and me.

Election Time!!! My Predictions!!!

‘The assembly elections are in full swing across four states and a union territory.’ ‘Full swing’ is a phrase that is oft repeated in India along with what has become its twin word—‘elections’.

I really have a great deal of admiration for the political analysts and election statisticians, not to miss out the Election Commission of India, for the way they manage to keep themselves updated every time an election is held in India, for ‘every time’ in Indian electoral scenario actually reads ‘always’.

News channels, this time around have kept a low profile as far as opinion polls and exit polls are concerned. So, while they have gone ahead with their polling, they have also made sure that they play it safe by addressing that ‘these are not the actual results’. No channel would want to find themselves in a similar situation as that of General Elections 2004 where each and every channel predicted ‘iNDiA Shining’. Before I move on further, let me explain the difference between an ‘Opinion Poll’ and an ‘Exit Poll’. A poll that is taken amongst the public before they have cast their vote is an opinion poll while an exit poll is the opinion taken from a sample of voters as they leave after casting their vote.

I haven’t taken any such polls, but I will jump the gun and predict as to who will form the next government in each of the five states.

Kerala: It could have been a land-slide win for the Left Democratic Front taking into account the strong anti-incumbency factor against Ommen Chandy’s United Democratic Front, led by the Congress, but for the infighting within the CPI (M) and also the confusion as to who will be their Chief-Ministerial candidate. Also, the old man K Karunakaran supporting the UDF is an added advantage for the UDF. Love him or hate him, he still has a huge say in Kerala politics. But it will still be the LDF coming out to form the next government.
Chief Minister? Ahem… I’d say Penarai Vijayan

Assam: The anti-incumbency factor could again have been at play against the Tarun Gogoi-led Congress government. But Asom Gana Parishad and BJP deciding to fight it out all alone means Congress is back in the fray to regain power. The anti-incumbency votes will now be divided amongst two. However, A post-election alliance seems distinctly possible. However, I do feel Prafulla Kumar Mahanta will have to wait for some more time. Congress may retain power but will find it difficult to gain numbers to form the majority.
Chief Minister? Tarun Gogoi

West Bengal: Left Front. I don’t think I need to say more.
Chief Minister? Mr. Buddhadeb Bhattacharjee again!

Tamil Nadu: This is supposed to be another close race, but Amma shall rise again! Apparently, the AIADMK government has done commendable job post the general-election 2004 debacle when they couldn’t win a single seat. Now, even Vaiko, the guy who was dragged to jail in the darkest hour by Jayalalitha’s police force is with Amma. The DMK led Democratic Progressive Alliance might give AIADMK a good fight, but the latter will emerge to form the government again!
Chief Minister? J Jayalalitha

Pondicherry: The Congress is trying to complete a hat-trick here and might well succeed in doing so. The alliance with DMK is an added advantage along with the absence of anti-incumbency factor. A few rebel candidates might however disturb the Congress’ equation.
Chief Minister? N. Rangaswamy


So, I have spoken! I am terrible with predictions and I won’t hesitate to eat my words. But I hope I don’t have to!

A Decade of Partnership!!!

On the 20th of June, 2006, two Indians will be celebrating a decade of their involvement with Indian cricket. ‘Celebrating’ is a word that should be used with some disparity as only one of the two will actually be doing what the word literally means. The other might be cooling his heels in his room. One is now doing the toughest job in Indian cricket, the other has already ‘been there, done that’. But, the contribution that both has done for the good of Indian cricket can never be over-looked, irrespective of whether the person in question is in the Indian team or not.

Sourav Ganguly and Rahul Dravid both made their test debut against England at the ‘Mecca of Cricket’, Lords a decade back. Dravid’s entry in the Indian team was very much expected. But the Prince of Kolkata’s (then Calcutta) selection sent a few eyebrows rising and a few tongues wagging. As a 20-year-old, Ganguly had already disappointed in his ODI debut scoring just three against the Windies in 1991-92.

So, while Dravid needed to justify the faith shown in him by the selectors and supporters, Ganguly had a bigger ask to prove his critics wrong and silence them once and for all. And both the 24-year-olds delivered and how! The man from Kolkata scored 131 sublime runs but the Bangalorean was unlucky to miss a century on debut like his partner-in-debut, by just five runs. Both the youngsters had loudly announced their arrival in international cricket. From there on, there was no looking back, at least until recently in one case. Dada’s and Dravid’s career graph complimented the form they displayed. No one dared to doubt their abilities. “On the offside, first there is God and then there is Sourav Ganguly”, commented Dravid about Ganguly’s ability to time and pierce the ball through the off-side with a precision of a surgeon. Meanwhile, Dravid’s class and technique drew him comparisons with the great Sachin Tendulkar. While Ganguly was aggressive in his approach, Dravid was the accumulator who put a price tag on his wicket.

Both though, had their fair share of downs as well. Dravid was considered a liability in the shorter form of the game. Ganguly’s ‘problems in personal life’ affected his on-field performance as well. But like in their debut match, they fought out of the crisis themselves. The two, along with Sachin Tendulkar, Anil Kumble and Javagal Srinath, became the saving grace of Indian Cricket after the match-fixing scandal. The Prince was made the King of Indian Cricket. But assuming the captaincy was like sitting on a throne of thorns with the match-fixing scandal still ripe in the minds of the people. Cricket’s popularity was at its lowest. Every match India won or lost was a ‘fixed match’. Ganguly, pitched in for young blood in the squad and the results were almost immediate. Dravid was made his deputy, yet the latter’s place in the ODI squad was in serious doubt.

In order to accommodate more batsmen, Ganguly forced Dravid to don the ‘keeper’s gloves. Dravid, not a natural wicket-keeper, was not too comfortable with the job but, the skipper had the last say. And Dravid in the long run benefited as his batting in ODIs improved vastly, a fact that he himself acknowledged. It was a dawn of a new era as far as Indian cricket was concerned with Ganguly at the helm and Dravid supporting him ably. The trio of Ganguly, Dravid and coach John Wright worked with perfection producing amazing results, thus laying the ghost of match-fixing to rest once and for all.

As a captain, Ganguly became some one who looked at the opposition in the eye and dared to challenge them. Most didn’t like it too much! He himself admitted once, that he might be the ‘most hated captain in world cricket.’ India was no longer at the receiving end of sledging. A scene that will remain forever etched in the memory of many Indian fans will be that of the bare-chested dance performed by Ganguly at the Lords balcony in 2002 as a payback to Flintoff’s jig at Wankhede. School-boyish attitude one might say! Well, that’s what made him click with the youngsters in the side and made India from an ‘also-rans’ to a real winning squad that was only a couple of steps behind to challenge the mighty Australians. One of the reasons India won that Natwest Final was because of Dravid’s sacrifice to become a wicket-keeper in order to accommodate the likes of Kaif and Yuvraj. Most tend to forget Dravid’s contribution to many such Indian victories under Ganguly’s regime.

Ganguly’s slump in form was followed by his sack as the captain and then, also as a player. His deputy and a long time friend Dravid now took over the mantle of leading a side.

If Ganguly had to deal with the ghost of match-fixing when he took over, Dravid had to deal with the ghost of Ganguly, which in a way continues to haunt him till date. But Dravid proved to be a worthy successor as his team is proving now! Dravid is reaping the benefits of the seeds (read Sehwag, Yuvraj, Kaif, Pathan) that Ganguly had sown.

SACH is Life!!!

The living legend of Indian Cricket turned 33 today! But, the cry to axe him after every tournament just gets louder. ‘He isn’t the same anymore’; ‘the body is rusting’ etc etc are just few of the comments about the Little Master that the self-proclaimed ‘experts’ of the game utters after every Sachin failure

No one seems to realize that Tendulkar is not in fact, as he is made out to be, a God! He too, like all other cricketers of his era is just that—a cricketer. As far his fitness is concerned, no other cricketer in the current era has been playing cricket for almost 17 long years. The body, after all these years of carrying the burden of a million prayers, is bound for some repair work. The only concern is the fact that these repairs are now needed quite frequently. Back, toe, ankle, elbow and now shoulder—almost every part of the maestro’s body has been put under the scanner, almost literally.

Every Tendulkar failure means that he has actually failed to hit a century or a 50! That is what a nation hopes he will do every time he walks out to the cricket field. Only a handful acknowledges the difference he makes by just being a part of the Indian side. Statistics and records, they say, can be misleading, but in Tendulkar’s case, they are not! I tried to put in a few stats and records of this Bombay Bomber, but I realized that it’s going to occupy a lot of my space in this blog. And besides, almost every Indian cricket fan, whether they like him or not, know his records in and out!

Until very recently, in order to chase down huge totals set in by the opposition, the nation looked up to Sachin to dig out the runs. I remember in July 2002 during the Natwest Finals, India chasing 326 were 140 odd for four, when Sachin played a rank bad shot to be bowled. Most of my friends switched to other channels, but being an eternal optimist as far as Indian cricket was concerned, I kept watching the game rarely missing a ball. No one really expected the two youngsters in Kaif and Yuvraj to come good and do the impossible!

Quite often, Sachin’s ability to disappoint during the finals of any tournament is highlighted. This however, must hold true for every Indian cricketer who under-performs in a final. I am not trying to defend Sachin’s under-performance in a final by any means for I know that his last notable performance in a final came in 1998 (an year when he batted like a dream) against Australia at the Coco Cola Cup in Sharjah. His performance at Sharjah was so destructive that Shane Warne began to have ‘night-mares of Sachin charging down and hammering’ him over long-on. The late Sir Don Bradman paid the ultimate tribute to the Master Blaster when the former recognized Sachin as his modern-day incarnation.

What also makes Sachin what he is today is his off-field demeanor. Controversies have come his way once in a while, but Sachin has always managed to steer clear, without much of a fuss. People respect him not just for his cricketing abilities but also for his attitude off the field. No surprise therefore, that he is still one of most-liked sporting icons of the country, despite his ‘bad form’.

I agree with Wasim Akram in his article today to the ToI: “Write off the Master Blaster at your own peril.” Sachin Tendulkar is still just 33 and according to me, he has AT LEAST four years of cricket left in him! Agreed, one must not live in the glories of the past. But when, it comes to SRT, it is very hard to forget the man who is truly the Living Legend of World Cricket. Hold on to your seats folks! For, I dare say this; the best of the man is yet to come.

So, here’s dedicating one of my longest post till date to Sachin Ramesh Tendulkar, to whom the millions in the country owe big time for the sheer joy and hope he has provided for more than a decade and half. HAPPY BIRTHDAY SIR!!!

Indian Cricket....On their Way...

“Zaheer scampers through for the second. India has won! This is an amazing win! Mohammad Kaif and Yuvraj Singh have scripted one of India’s most amazing wins.” Commentator Ravi Shastri could not contain his joy even while on air as India chased a near-impossible target of 326 runs set by England at the ‘Mecca of Cricket’, Lords, in July 2002. The then Indian skipper Sourav Ganguly was seen doing a bare-chested dance, waving his blue Indian jersey over his head, at the Lords balcony mouthing a few ‘words’ aimed at the English all-rounder Andrew Flintoff who had performed a similar ‘jig’ in front of a packed Wankhede crowd and Ganguly in Mumbai.

On the pitch, the two 21-year-olds, Singh and Kaif, had made the cricketing world take notice of the ‘Men in Blue’. With the right combination of youth and experience, the Indians seemed like the only ones who could threaten the mighty Aussies. But, the Indians surrendered meekly to the mighty men from down under in the 2003 World Cup finals.

Then came the slump in form. The victory against Pakistan on their home soil in 2004 was the last decent performance of a side that had shown a lot of promise. Pakistan returned the ‘favour’ on their Indian tour in 2005 and Indian cricket was suddenly looking down the barrel, when a need to shake the system was felt. A new coach was appointed and a new captain was selected. The old skipper, despite all that he had done for Indian cricket, was asked to prove his form and fitness to regain his place. The message was clear—‘There was no place for under-performers’.

With the influx of new, fresh and energetic legs in the squad, the Kaifs and the Singhs took the mantle of ‘senior players’. Virender Sehwag donned the deputy-skipper’s crown. The cricketing fraternity witnessed a whole new India. Not just with regard to new and young faces, but in relation to the attitude and performance. A new era had dawned on the horizon of Indian cricket. The older successful era had been during the reign of Sourav Ganguly.

Lesser known states on the cricketing map, like Uttar Pradesh, Jharkhand and Kerala, now find their representatives in the Indian team. India can now also boast of possessing world-class allrounders who are not just bits-and-pieces cricketers. Players like Irfan Pathan and Mahendra Singh Dhoni have lessened captain Rahul Dravid’s burden in the batting department. In fielding, Mohammad Kaif, Yuvraj Singh and Suresh Raina have made the thirty-yard circle their home. Indian bowling attack no longer revolves around spin. A flood of genuine pace bowling talents have given Dravid a problem that he will want to have throughout his reign as captain—the problem of choice.

India’s tag of ‘chokers while chasing’ is a thing of the past. A world record 15 victorious run-chases in succession is testimony to this fact. Besides, most of these were done without any significant contribution from Sachin Tendulkar shows that Indian batting no longer lives under the Little Master’s shadow.

It is very important that India does not get too carried away for most of these wins happened in the sub-continent. The real test will come when India visits the Caribbean next month as the World Cup will take place there in 2007. They have to maintain the standards they have set and prove, more to themselves, that they are ready to rule the world. But right now, India has the perfect team to light-up the Caribbean and bring home the World Cup in 2007.

Note: Special thanks to Pooja for her editing!

Heaven's Gates and Hell's Flames!!!

Slowly, they lowered his casket with ropes hanging from either side. His cold breathless body stayed still inside the dark box with the lid closed. Yet, he could see the priest in white shirt and black trousers holding a black leather-bound Holy Bible with his right index finger dug into one of the pages.
He could hear the heavenly ‘In the sweet, by and by, we shall meet on that beautiful shore’ being sung by his fellow friends and mates. However, he couldn’t comprehend the few, leaning on the wall of the chapel-cum-rest house, without a drop of tear or sorrow in their face. He looked around and was soon to find out that it wasn’t just ‘the few’, but ‘all’ that had gathered around the 6 feet pit, had not a tear to shed. He saw his best friend walking out through the gates.
Soon, he developed wings and began to soar. He had always wanted to soar high and away from this world and here he was soaring far out of reach for the world to catch him, yet a gloom set in his heart for he knew he might never return. He wanted to walk again!
The song that he loved a lot had stopped. The priest had started with his prayers. As he ascended further away from his casket, which was slowly disappearing in a heap of mud and sand, he saw two winged Angels accompanying him in the flight. They led him from one world into another. The peace and serenity of the new world captured him. All he could see around him was a colour, the worst description of which will be ‘white’. They passed through a pavement which, for him, seemed to be made of gold, the purity of which was unmatched. He was led through huge gates that seemed boundary-less. There was no way he wanted to go back from where he came from.
The Angels carried him past huge mansions of which there was no demarcation. And suddenly, he saw someone that made him stand and stare in front of one of these beautiful-beyond-description mansions. ‘My grandpa might have looked him when he was young,’ he thought. The person waved from inside his mansion and smiled at him. He was now sure that ‘the person’ indeed was his grandpa. A few more mansions down, he saw another familiar figure and that of his grandma! But she looked so young! How? Each person owned one mansion for himself/herself! ‘Wow! Even I might own one of these,’ he thought.
Passing a few mansions, he reached a stairway. He followed the steps with his eyes as much as it could lead him. And a bright light appeared from the stairs. He couldn’t see the Person’s face! Soon the Force opened a huge book and scanned through it and with a voice that could shake every nation told him, “YOU DON’T BELONG HERE.”
He was swept off his feet. ‘No, this can’t be right!’ he cried out loud. Soon, he found himself at a place where darkness new no boundaries. He heard moans and cries of desperation. There was fire and flames all around, yet it was so dark! He could see a few familiar faces, yet it was so dark! A sudden gush of heat hit him as he gasped for breath and air.

He wiped the sweat from his brow, forehead and hands. Looked at the blue clock on his yellow wall… 7 33 a.m. Ah! Time for the MSEB power cut! Will last for an hour… I can afford to close my eye-lids a little longer… said a little prayer… And off I went zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz……………..

Unfair World...

Ever felt you deserved better for the effort you'd put in?

Ever felt you've been unfairly treated despite having worked harder?

Ever felt that your work should have been better acknowledged?

Ever felt like kicking yourself for putting in that extra bit of effort for which you THOUGHT you would be rewarded?

Ever felt you should have just sat around looking at others work thinking the reward you get is eventually going to be the same or perhaps in certain cases even worse?

Well... ask these to this scrawny li'l fella and he'll reply in the affirmative for each of the above queries...

All I can say is thank God... for atleast He looks down and notices every bit...

And... A greater reward awaits!!!

After Shit... it's Spit!!!

Shitting isn't the only thing that Mumbaikars do on and around the railway tracks!!! The other day I was standing at Dombivli station waiting for the train. Suddenly, I see this middle-aged guy squirting the white liquid out on tracks. Well, that's not an unusual sight for someone from Mumbai. But what amazes me is the fact that this act spreads like an epidemic!!! The moment that guy spat his 'contribution' out, a flood of others joined him. Some red, some white. Some on the tracks, some on the edge of the platform, some in the corner of the pillar of the FoB under construction. Then, there are those who are too lazy to walk over to the edge and spit out on the tracks. They just try their luck using their effeciency in flat trajectory squirts!!! Some of those white/red liquid matter falls on the edge, while a good chunk falls on the track!!! These guys are true experts and master exponents in the art of spitting!!! They will easily go one-up on Di Caprio from Titanic!!! Those champions with the flatter trajectory are also able to generate pace in their squirt!!! They press their tongue between their two uneven and colourful set of sixteen (and perhaps lesser and in strange circumstances more!!!), collect the saliva in their mouth and releases the liquid with some force such that it comes out between the little gap in their two upper teeth!!! Quite a talent that... I must admit!!! One that I don't possess and I dont think I want to!!!

The amount of saliva that comes out, if collected, purified and converted into water, this could easily solve the problem of water shortage not just in Mumbai, but also in Maharashtra (well... even this seems an understatement... could easily quench the whole of India's thirst!!!.... YUK!!!)

Shit!!! (This ain't the swear word!!!)

About a month back, when I was travelling my usual route from Dombivli to VT (oops... CST), I decided to do something out of the ordinary that might gross many of you out!!! Normally, I decide to catch up on lost sleep while travelling- something that I have been doing quite frequently after joining XIC. Somehow, that day, my eyes were open even after Thane had passed (which is when sleep calls me).

I thought I'll do something interesting here. My attention went to this man in his 30s going about 'it' sitting on the railway tracks. And the train on the move wouldn't even have passed 100 metres when I see another little fellow emptying himself but this time he is on track number 3!!! I decided it's time for me to take a count. And mind you, this is happening sometime in the afternoon around say 1ish! This explains how I got a window seat from Dombivli!!!

Anyways, my count it seems started increasing after every 200 metres!!! 3...4...5...6... and then there was a sudden pause. The area between Mulund and Bhandup!!! There isn't much population around the tracks there!!! But again it goes... It increases when I approach Vikhroli!!! I have already reached 13 by the time the train leaves Vikhroli... I have had enough.. I have seen a lot of shit (literally) already!!! I was sure I would have found almost the equal amount of people just between Sion and Matunga!!!

Now, picture this... What if I had decided to take the count during one of the morning time travelling that I do? And what if, during that morning, I had decided to carry on with my counting right till I reached VT? I am sure I would have messed up my count by the time I reached Matunga!!! And I'll still be having nightmares of shit all around me!!!

And I am being told it's even worse towards the Harbour side!!! What is it that makes these people risk their lives just to empty their bowels? Lack of Toilets of course, is the major reason. But it's not just that!!! There are toilets built in some of these areas that I just mentioned!!! Then, why don't people use them? The answer is simple and lemme explain it to you in a gross manner... The moment you open the door of the toilet (if the toilet ever has one), it is all right there!!! No one bothers to clean them... I know for a fact that I would rather die of constipation than of breathlessness using that toilet!!! SHIT (Literally)!!!

Naming Mallu Kids!!!

My blog would have been incomplete had it not been for my bro, Aby, forwarding me this piece about the group of people that you'd find even on the moon... Ever wondered how mallu parents select names for their kids... well, read on and find out!!! This one is a tribute to all the mallu kids on the planet!!!

Statutory warning: If you are not South Indian it might be pointless reading further.
Extra Statutory warning: If you are a Mallu with the pride of Kerala in you, DON'T read any further.

It has been a well kept secret for eons, shrouded in mystery and mazes of deceit, but finally Itty Boben Jacob Elias Kuruvilla from Pazhookaville, near Thelmasherry, Kerala has consented to let us publish this classified mallu formula, on the naming of mallu kids.

1. Select a combination of both the mother and fathers names. Eg: Suresh and Sharon = Susha or Joseph and Beena = Jobi.

2. The addition of a 'mon' (meaning son) or 'mol' (meaning daughter) is optional. eg: Sushamol, Jobimon.

3. To attach a modern anglicised feel to the names, the mol or mon can be replaced with boy or girl. eg: Jobiboy, Sushagirl. (Blogger's Note: I think I'll fall into this category!)

4. For the politically correct Keralite family, Mol and Mon can be replaced by the universal 'Kutty'(child), which can be used for both boys and girls! Eg: Jokutty, Susikutty

Even parents having combination names can still give their children suitable names eg: Libi and Jobi = Lijo

However, in the scenario where the parents already have combination names that cannot form more comprehensible child names. Eg: Itty and Amukutty, would produce only Itam (which doesn't even sound like a name) or Amit (which is like Northie and stuff!), then:

a. Use an English word like Baby, Merry, Titty, Pearly, Smiley, Anarchy, etc.

b. Use a combination of two English names that you think sound cool (but never cool enough) like Meredith + Gina = Megi, or Sharon + Darlene = Sharlene

c. Use a name from the Bible (and not Nebuchadnezzar! Use one that even Velliammachi can pronounce!) like Jacob, Sam, John, Joseph, Mathew, or Jijo!

Note: The use of the letter 'j' is useful in the naming of sibling where names that sound alike are a novelty. Eg: Ajji, Sajji, Majji, Bhajji and Nimajji, or Sijo, Lijo, Jijo, Anjo, Panjo, Banjo.

And finally for all those, who raised and is continuing to raise their eyebrows when they hear my name... here's something that might make sense: Blessed+Son= Blessen. As I was the younger son, my parents I was a blessing..... So...

New Look!!!

So now my blog has a new look and a new feel to it!!!
Well, apparently the old template with the black background somehow did not suit my kinda blog! My dear friend from Mulund- Sami Jose- thought it gave out a pessimistic feeling!!! So, I decided to take her advice and here it is!!! A new look to my good ol' blog! The tinge of blue gives a "feeling of hope"... So, thanks a lot to Ms. Jose for her idea!!!

And just for the record... just because my template has changed doesn't mean my writing's going to change too!!! It will still be crappy!!! So, enjoy the new look guys with the same old sad writer!!!