Man's greatness is not in never falling but rising every-time he falls

A weblog of R.K.Gurumurthy

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Lord's - An Ignominy in Waiting

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I had nearly resolved not to write about cricket, astrology and movies - not because i understand their technicalities better but just because there are a million other things on earth to write about - but the latest scam surrounding Butt's team is threatening to bury the game at the same place it was almost born. Not many would know of a Grace or an Ackermann.  Lindwall and Larwood are part of Google's repository. The history about Lord's as cricket's mecca (to borrow a cliche) would soon join the ranks of East India Company among the modern day whizkids. And none of that is my concern. So please read on..

The issue that bogs me down is how come one frustrated human being turns a demi-approver and starts implicating the sources of her defeatism. Am speaking about a Veena who now is the fountain-head of all truths relating to a damning scam.  True, the Butts and the Asifs of the world found it easier to earn by stooping down to extents not generally seen in sports but isn't there a Limitation Act of sorts for anyone to turn into a bastion of honesty! What was the lady doing when she was enjoying the sun and beaches of Bangkok. Would she still have said these if her life was normal and colourful.  Still, that's only a smaller issue.

Will we react in the same manner if someone said that Bedi deliberately bowled donkey drops to Zaheer Abbas when the latter scored 274 a few decades ago, just because he was promised three nights and two days at his choicest hotel in South Mumbai.  As i wrote a few days ago, the incentives to be morally upright is far less today in our society. The unlucky ones get caught and the lucky ones get to preach. Still, however, these are less important aspects.

What is important to me is restoring Test Cricket its coveted status.  Don't bother if attendance is low during test matches. Don't we sometimes watch Golf on TV?  Well, my appeal is will anyone join me in "Save Test Cricket" campaign and light a million candles to cleanse Lords of the ignominy inflicted on it by a few lesser ethical souls.  Wally Hammond's square cut, Colin Cowdrey's cover drive and Randall's antics in the centenary ashes-test are as precious as the Big Ben.
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Remembering "The Fallen Idol"

I am not too sure if it is "The Basement Room" or "The Fallen Idol"  but Greene's classic story is worth recounting for its simplicity and suspense. 

This one is an intriguing story that is narrated as an insight  into the world of a  young boy who thinks their cook, whom he idolizes to a fault, has committed a murder. To complicate matters the boy has also seen the cook with a young damsel, who in the words of the  cook is his niece. In trying to keep the  cook’s secrets, the boy makes everything more complicated.  He tries to guard his secrets but ends up telling them. He bluffs to protect, even though he knows he should tell the truth. He resolves not to listen to adults' stories any more.  Secrets and lies become the dominant themes of his young life….

 Greene indeed at his best.  The boy is shown as the son of a diplomat, who gets his life's only attention and care from the cook. If one understood Greene's tormented childhood, one would find a root of his earlier days in each of his brilliant work.

Some years ago the story was supposed to be morphed into a movie with the same title  but my record of hollywood-watch is atrociously poor so not sure if a movie ever was made. 

Am a big fan of R K Narayan, who himself acknowledges Graham Greene as one of the best of this century. Suddenly finding this new-found interest in Greene's works.

ps: This post would rank as my most troubled effort - a dozen times i have tried to write, re-write, edit, change the font, change the font-size and out of frustration finally moved the entire text to a word document to perform my surgery  - only to discover the title stands miles away from the body!!  We wander about like cardboard symbols through a world that is paper-thin (that's a straight lift!!)

Whither the Rupee - An occassional commentary on financial markets

  

If we could first know where we are, and whither we are tending, we could then better judge what to do, and how to do it. ..

The above statement gleaned during a random read prompted me to look at the currency markets - and some basic economic data - to understand if we are about to move into a new trend. Or it is just another fight  between various forces in administration and regulation that shams as a trend and dies down under the weight of political priorities.

The trade policy for 2009-14 doesn't provide great insight. Nor do the projections of an estimated $125 billion trade deficit. The short term relief lies in managing the deficit via the Capital account - and the success of this strategy ironically is predicated on a shun-the-developed-markets and move-to-growth-economies theme among investors. With some Fed members already clamoring for another round of expansionary policy-line, there is some hope of another global financial market crisis or a prolonged slowdown across majors. And therefore, possible surge in capital flows into India. What is not clear is how this will pan out against an inflation fighting central bank. Sequencing of policy moves could do the trick.

Moving to the main item, Rupee looks vulnerable for now. Current account deficit (i would rather avoid trade deficit as it is a narrower benchmark) to GDP could well scale the handle-4 and that indeed is  an ominous event. I was a big fan of the sell rupee (and buy dollar) trade idea most of the times this year and that could come to pass. We should be prepared for a sustained rupee weakness in the months ahead.

Call it coincidence - rupee just got its new symbol and must probably be the fifth currency in the world of economics to get that coveted honor. And the crystal-ball gazing fraternity must soon be wondering if there was some bad vastu around its curves that makes rupee weaker. Much similar to the new bull that was installed in front of BSE a few years back and how much flak it drew for the sensex crash during those days!!


Cricket's Hour of Shame

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While we have heard similar incidents of betting related scams and scandals in cricket before, the one currently rocking the world of the gentleman's game is more disgusting as it promises to wipe out an entire team. I have always wondered how the two small impoverished (culturally and economically - courtesy long periods of strife) nations keep producing talent after talent (i am referring to Srilanka and Pakistan - the former war-ravaged for decades and the latter, much the same and  perennially sitting on political powder-keg) inspite of their socio-economic conditions but the catch exactly lies in those s-e conditions it now appears. Very little incentive to be morally upright?
                   Well, whatever be the fate of the game, it leaves a numbing pain in the heart. Some really good talent may go extinct. But who cares. The scary thought is what would happen if other guardians of society give a go-by to conscience. What if the opposite of what was envisioned in Atlas Shrugged happens?
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The Joys of Good Forecasting

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Astrology is quite close to the top of my favorites in life. Outside of sleeping, eating  or  spending time with my family i spend most of my time studying currency markets or astrology.  The thrills of getting a market move right is just as consummate as getting the future of someone bang on.
                   In astrology we practice something called as 'Blind Chart Analysis' - an exercise where someone in the forum provides birth details of a person and then asks 'what happened to him or her at a particular time'.  We, members, try to predict that event. A good focused work certainly yields accurate results.
                    Sometime recently i indulged in such an exercise.  The birth details of a lady was given and another date was given and the query was to predict what might have happened on that day. A few of us did a good job. I had the honor of doing it most accurately when i wrote 'the actress's parent must have died in an accident at that hour....'.  The moderator declared this as the nearest to the fact.  The person in question was a Hollywood star and the person that died was her  father who himself was a distinguished actor and he died in a helicopter crash during a stunt scene. The beauty of  good astrology is it allows the analyst to say the person under reference was an actor, there was a mishap, there was a parent involved and it was fatal...
                     While publishing the correct entries, the moderator also provided complete details. After this detail was provided i realised it was possible to do a better job - that is, to narrow it to 'father' than vaguely saying 'parent' and it was also possible to say he was also associated with arts. Must be one of those times when i (or anyone) misses the wood for  trees!!

The Sin of Whistle-Blowing

  

Some of my fanatically regular fans and a few of my sensation-seeking-acquaintances have started wondering what on earth has befallen me and why am i 'found'  missing!!  I am not. I don't know if there is anything called as introspective sabbatical but if there is one, i must be somewhere there.

I am feeling this queer feeling of having done something in haste - pretty confused about a few things and puzzled about a lot many.  Let me live this moment of test.

God has his own ways - a closing-window often means an opening-door somewhere.

And there is enough to create a best-seller!!!
That is if i choose to...

Someone said - speak out. I say to myself : "If you understand me, i don't have to explain myself. If you don't understand me, no amount of explaining will ever help".
 


ps: Found this interesting article in TOI - posting it with plenty of reluctance - reference the link below:
http://timesofindia.indiatimes.com/life-style/spirituality/speaking-tree/The-saint-and-the-scorpion/articleshow/6451408.cms

A Cabbie's Day

Its the usual rainy season in Mumbai and if it rains it has to pour. What is a nature's fury worth for if it can't paralyse human life into total  limbo and despair. With all respects to Goddess Rain, i turn my focus to that ubiquitous bug like black motorcar, often mistaken for an effective means of conveyance between two points in this small city that is made to look large only by sheer traffic snarls and  congestion everywhere. Not that this is unique only to this city. That's how our other major cities are designed. Forget all that - afterall Mumbai is the financial capital of the country and contributes to a very large slice of its GDP.  It rewards hard work and punishes lethargy. A city to experience in everyone's lifetime.
                      I had an unfortunate day in life when i had to depend on that black bug for reaching home from the airport. There were atleast a dozen of them, idling around and feigning to be waiting to ferry people to their choicest destinations but none would want to come to a home that was just 4000 metres away. Each had a novel excuse not to allow me inside that crammed mobile box and perhaps it was their prosperity, i wouldn't know, but they didn't like even twice the normal fare for this distance.
                       I couldn't but recollect those years - the late nineties - when i could simply get into this magic van and tell him my destination and start pretending to be busy reading a newspaper or talking to a never-before-spoken-to school friend. Things have changed. It's a seller's market everywhere. But why is it being called as buoyant consumerism!!

Raising a Puppy

One needs to be very careful while promising. I am learning this fact day in day out.

I promised my daughter to get her a nice little puppy on her birthday, forgetting the fact that a nice puppy will not remain little for ever. So the house got its second kid, a boxer, professed to be born of vintage German parents. While it is a great entertainer and mood-raiser, it is a nuisance too in its own way. We need to think of her whenever we have to plan an outing beyond 4 hours - always on the lookout for a victim to be put behind at home when i want to go out. 
              From the door-delivering grocer to the motley maids and messengers that enter the house, everyone suffers his or her moments of scare and terror. Except the tiled floor and painted walls, nothing is allowed to be left unattended - for, the little devil would bite to bits anything that is unguarded. Always graceful, it is jealous too. Extremely playful, it is prankful too. 
                More about it as we grow together....  wait, it just found my Hush Puppy for a dessert. The next time i have to make a promise, i will take some time...





Murali - The real maestro

Salutations to Muthaiah Muralitharan.

800 wickets is an amazing feat. Coming from a  nation torn by war and strife for decades, he is the real class. What has often amazed me is his temparament and attitude. In my various dreams and wishes, i had always wanted to be a great offspinner and the seed of this desire was sown by murali, long back.  Its a different matter that i had no talent whatsoever to even grip across seam to spin the ball to the right.
                   True to its chivalrous nature and form, india presented the champion bowler with a memorable gift in his last appearance - by losing within whatever time was available.  On its day, India can lose to any team anywhere anyhow.

The Genius called Teacher

Am not sure how many of you would agree with me - 
God's greatest creation after mother is the teacher. 
We have taken both of them for granted.  I wouldn't be where i am if it was not for my teachers. The friends around me would say 'your teacher was bang on'   and the not-so-friendly around me would say the same thing!!!  Well, this piece is not about me. 
Pease read on....

One Night 4 college students were playing till late night and could not study for the test which was scheduled for the next day.  In the morning they thought of a plan. They made themselves look as dirty with grease and dirt. They then went up to the Dean and said that they had gone out to a wedding last night and on their return the tyre of  their car burst and they had to push the car all the way back and that they were in no condition to appear for the test.  So the Dean said they could have the re-test after 3 days. They thanked him and said they would be ready by that time.  On the third day they appeared before the Dean, the Dean said that as this was a Special Condition Test, all four were required to sit in separate classrooms for the test. They all agreed as they had prepared well in the last 3 days.
 
The Test consisted of 2 questions with a total of 100 Marks.
   



  Q.1.   Name of the car?? (2 marks)
       .......... .......... .........  
   Q.2.  Which tyre burst?   (98 MARKS)
        a) Front Left           b) Front Right
        c) Back Left            d) Back Right 


Sam's World

Beginning this day, i introduce a new character, Sam, whose lifes and times are chronicled in the following pages. I would write whenever i encounter this rare specimen. Sam is, in a way, my punching bag. My joys, frustrations, grief, ecstasy, stupidity, creativity.. all find a fountain-head in this imaginary creation.

Sam is no American. He is our very own Sathiyamangalam Atmaram Manikandan, a south Indian for sure but someone who has remained so terribly secretive that even the abbreviated name must have been an adaptation to suit some wily ends. I have heard him tell once that he hailed from a royal clan of Sathiyamangalam and the entire forests in that hilly tract belonged to his great grand fathers, later illegally occupied by that notorious bandit Veerappan. The society's records say he said this while addressing the members on "Old Women and Older Men's Day". It must have been said surely to impress someone that ignored him or he must have chosen that occasion to introduce that unverifiable history about his royal ancestors.

Whatever his intentions, there was something different in everything he did and he had attractive ways about him. Everyone liked to talk to him. There was not a single home in the surrounding locality where he was not treated as a member of the family. He was privy to the inside story of every family. From mediating in and patching up unrelated quarrels to being a self appointed watch dog of that small society he took part in every damned activity and if there was none, he would celebrate the birthday of King Rajavarma Johnson. If asked who this King was, he would say tearfully he was the 47th descendant of a Dutch Emperor and was related to him through his great-grand-aunt. He was fluent even when lying about history to historians.


Sam and the World Cup

"Banish them", a familiar voice screamed. I suddenly turned around to see our own Sam, with the day's paper in hand. Asked him what upset him so much that he should be so rudely angry but yet be so poetic in condemning someone. He said, "They want to make a 'manchuri' of the soothe-sayer Octopus Paul for consigning the Germans to the list of defeated teams. How unfair..". I took some time to realise he was refering to that phenomenon called Paul - that hapless animal caught in the greed and despair of a troubled mankind - which ventured to play probability theory and was unfortunate to have gotten it right at all times, so far. Sam is right for wrong reasons. While the Anands of the world use supercomputers to analyse the moves of Topalovs and Kasparovs, there is a parallel community that still depends on parrots, pigeons, snakes, turtles and octopus to understand the future. How would it look if a Topalov went beserk and smashed the motherboard of his computer after his loss to Anand!!!


Sam meets the Press


"Thirty three, this December" said Sam to the petite dame sitting in front of him all ears and eyes, and expecting Sam to pour out. I paused for a while to realise Sam said that about his age.  His range has often been between thirty-seven and forty-eight, but today was a new low. He added, his parents were third generation business tycoons  now settled in Trinidad but he had come back to India to study "Vijayanagar Architecture" some fifteen years ago.  At eighteen then, but why did the press woman not ask him, i wondered.
                   He was moved by the poverty and squalor in India's slums and had decided to spend his life here. Continuing further, he said he got his name from that maratha warrior Samnath Topeshwar, who was the most trusted commander of a Maratha king. I was shocked. How did our rustic Manikandan become Samnath and how much more could history suffer in the lips of this butcher. I tried to remember if there was anything that was being narrated to this press-staff true and there was nothing. Sam was a past master in this trade. Why  was he doing this,  what was his motive , what did he achieve and who exactly was he.. let's wait and see.  Meanwhile, he continued his sermons, ".. i trust in my ability to discern the good one from the pulp. I would not buy anything for a brand name. Brands are afterall a premium one pays for ignorance and laziness..".
                   Samnath Topeshwar  concluded the interview invoking some hymns which resembled sanskrit phonetics but i was sure they were not. He had always used History and Sanskrit to great advantage in all his dealings.


Sam on 'Self-Confidence'

"Look at the umbrella. It cannot stop the rains. But it can certainly make you stand in the rains without getting drenched. Self-confidence in yourself is much the same. It cannot give you success by itself, but it can certainly help you to face challenges", Sam started the day this way. Must have been my bad karma that i bumped into him during my morning walk and i had to hear all this unsolicited profundity. Sam loved to speak. He just needed a pair of ears in front of him. He is believed to have spoken to my daughter for 6 hours non-stop on what she should become when she grows up - and all of this when my cute one was just 8 months old.



Sam eats Idlis


Sathiyamangalam Atmaram Manikandan, popularly Sam, arrived a full fifteen minutes late. We had decided to meet for a farewell to a family in the society.

What would otherwise have been a small house-to-house breakfast or lunch or dinner get-together five years ago was today extravaganzaed as a breakfast get-together in a suburban 3 star restaurant. How things change. Man is not respected if he wants to be simple and practical. Nobody trusts my explanation if I don’t do it from a power-point. I can get away with a canard if it comes when I am inside a three-piece while I have to prove my identity with a PAN card if I walk in simple casuals. It’s the era of the flamboyant and the flaunting fosters..
                          The Senior Navy Officer in the neighborhood was getting back to his native village after a thirty-odd years of distinguished service and his last place of work was our city. After all he has helped many a child drop to his or her nursery or school in his car, has taken most of the society’s population to official parties as his relatives where some of us have become his brothers or sisters in the office muster. He once called me his cousin-brother and on another occasion my wife as his sister.

Well, here we were at the breakfast table to sing paeans of his association with us and how we were to remember the senior sailor for the next many generations. The concept of a breakfast was, as usual, suggested by Mr. Sam, the good Samaritan of the society, and here he was – inordinately late. Sam believed in being a cynosure at all occasions. Either he would come late to make his presence felt or come quite early (enough) to create a ruckus about the importance of punctuality for those that turned in late. He had to be noticed. Talk is even if Sam were to attend a funeral, he would not miss the chance to attract. He would dress up the way the hero of the latest Tamil/Telugu or Hindi movie would have done on a similar event. So much for his need to be noticed..
                         As is often the case with any Indian get together, we were twelve of us that included four children. And we required twenty-two different items. Sam stole the show yet again. He first shouted why we should not have started earlier and when his turn for choosing what he wanted to eat came, he said he preferred to keep it light and would settle for Cathatori with veil parmesan and wind up with Tortoni. We were all shocked. We haven’t heard anything so atrocious at a dining table. I quickly sensed what Sam was upto. Either he would want to say his Italian friends have introduced him to the healthiest food on earth or he picked this during his stay in Dubai (he would attribute his one week absconding last month to a Dubai trip). In either case, this was way too much for a breakfast and I dreaded the moment. Ironically, Sam had very recently exhorted others on the virtues of eating leaf and grass and how the great Mahatma lived on goat’s milk and peanuts and yet lived for 102 years, which no one contested.

The waiter was shocked beyond recognition and said the hotel did not serve Mexican food, to which Sam angrily asked him to look at the atlas and be aware that a place called Italy existed and these were the delicacies of Italian orthodoxy. My suspicions were coming true. But good luck, he stopped there and again said with seething anger, “get me idlis and saambaazh”. I interrupted to clarify it was ‘sambaar, which was usually served in buckets with large ladles to proffer..’. Others ordered too. In sometime, we all started. Sam did mention about how Italian food was prepared and how he has started admiring global food (world music, global warming, global economy and now global food..) and that Olive Oil was the only liquid that deserved to be consumed.

Sam almost ordered for chopsticks but ended up eating with a knife and forks. Idlis with a knife, my daughter screamed – my wife instantly throttled the kid’s neck for raising another topic. We did nothing but watch him eat idlis and sambar. He ate them as if it was some deadly poison being administered to a recalcitrant criminal and ended up saying, he hated Indian food because it was over-cooked. No one could refute. Everyone realized the blunder of agreeing to get together to celebrate an occasion with Sam as an invitee. For many of us, it was a regret it was not Sam’s farewell. All of us wished Sam would run away again and not be seen for many months.

Three Tears for Argentina

My knowledge of football is quite limited. Have been a cricketer myself and typical of a schoolboy's fanaticism, hated any sport that i didn't play. I became a football lover after watching Maradona play and became an addict after the last world cup.
Saturday's match between Germany and Argentina was one of the best in recent times. As i watched and smsed my brother "Germany has a 9-9-1 formation while Argentina is playing that jaded 4-4-2..", i was silently crying within, feeling strongly for that stocky man in a 'not-made-for-him' suit. We will miss this legendary footballer on the field and may possibly get to spot him only in stands hereafter. I have not seen Pele play but Maradona is my Pele. I am so used to the volatile fortunes of Indian cricket that a defeat on the field hardly ever impacts me more than a fly on my nose. This one, would for sure for sometime..

How very weak the very strong are..

Been reading quite a bit in the press about this suicide of a yesteryears model. Rightly or wrongly, the press feasts on such events. Whatever may be the reason and whoever may have been responsible, what intrigues is that someone who has braved the more vulnerable times of life - to me the entire twenties - chooses to call it quits. Have personally and directly seen my dear friend reducing himself to ashes with his wife in frustration - but that was many years ago. Nothing has changed in life. Except for a few sea-links and highways, a few hundred malls and a hundred odd more ways of getting distracted in the name of entertainment, nothing has changed. Man is as confused and fickle as he was a quarter century ago. Am certainly not a fatalist but am disturbed by such events.

Smart Quip

Told my cute little one "You should dream. Your future depends on dreams. Great ideas are born out of dreams.." and i got into my typically inane philosophical rant when she suddenly interrupted me rudely and said "ok appa, pls go and sleep now. You wont be able to dream otherwise..".

On Sports

  
So it's yet again that anemic tried-tested-and-found-successful syndrome that keeps the Lakshmans and the Dravids of the country in the team. Not that they don't deserve a place but when are we building for the future? At a time when we get to watch electrifying WC football or see that historic tennis at Wimbledon the other day between Isner and Mahut, it could be wicked casuistry to speak about Indian cricket. It's just that seething sinking feeling when one sees Ghana/Uruguay/Chile or similar countries participating in world cups while a 100 cr populated country's tennis heroine falters at the initial rounds without a whimper.
  

Another Terrible Transit

Need to figure out if planetary transits have anything to do with my blogging frequency. For those cursorily checking into this blog to see if any updates appear, pls scroll down to see under the title "My Dateless and Timeless Diary".

Speaking of transits, the nodes get stationary to slow moving around 17 degrees and Cancer Ascendants face the fury. With both Jupiter and Saturn mutually aspecting, this might go down as a terrible phase. If my reading of planetary transits is correct, this jupiter-saturn transit should take us economically to the 1930s or the era of great-depression.

I remember an old native joke - once a frustrated person approached an astrologer for advice and remedies. The astrologer looked at this person's chart and said "Things look quite bad for the next 6 months and you will suffer a lot". The person asked optimistically, "what would happen after six months?", to which the astrologer said "You will get used to your miseries...".

'Paa' - A class of its kind

When i first read about this movie and heard about the team  Balki - P.C.Sriram - Ilayaraja, i promised myself i will watch this movie at any rate.  That, it has both the Bachchans in the movie hardly mattered when i resolved to watch if first day first show.  And i would maintain the same stance after watching this movie today. The movie would have been equally good with any combination of casting.

Brilliant cinematography (PCS), slick editing (don't know who) and absolutely brilliant re-recording (Ilay the great) makes it a memorable experience. Abhishek is good in patches. Amitabh - one needs to be reminded that the character Auro is the Big B (i had to be challenged that the voice is not of Nasiruddin Shah's(recall his mumbling delivery in  Gandhi}) but that role stands out. Vidya and the Mrs Nag have a controlled and consistent performance.

Overall the movie is an experience. It would go down as a techinically brilliant effort.

Came out feeling the same way i did some 18 years ago after watching Maniratnam's Anjali.

Humor

An Irish Mother's Letter - an all-time classic

Dear Son,

Just a few lines to let you know I'm still alive. I'm writing this letter slowly because I know you can't read fast. We are all doing very well.


You won't recognise the house when you get home - we have moved. Your dad read in the newspaper that most accidents happen within 20 miles from your home, so we moved. I won't be able to send you the address because the last Irish family that lived here took the house numbers when they moved so that they wouldn't have to change their address.


This place is really nice. It even has a washing machine. I'm not sure it works so well though: last week I put a load in and pulled the chain and haven't seen them since.

Your father's got a really good job now. He's got 500 men under him. He's cutting the grass at the cemetery.

Your sister Mary had a baby this morning but I haven't found out if it's a boy or a girl, so I don't know whether you are an auntie or an uncle.

Your brother Tom is still in the army. He's only been there a short while and they've already made him a court martial!
Your Uncle Patrick drowned last week in a vat of whiskey in the Dublin Brewery. Some of his workmates tried to save him but he fought them off bravely. They cremated him and it took three days to put out the fire.

I'm sorry to say that your cousin Seamus was arrested while riding his bicycle last week. They are charging him with dope peddling.

I went to the doctor on Thursday and your father went with me. The doctor put a small tube in my mouth and told me not to talk for ten minutes. Your father offered to buy it from him.
The weather isn't bad here. It only rained twice this week, first for three days and then for four days. Monday was so windy one of the chickens laid the same egg four times.
We had a letter from the under-taker. He said if the last payment on your Grandmother's plot wasn't paid in seven days, up she comes.
About that coat you wanted me to send you, your Uncle Stanley said it would be too heavy to send in the mail with the buttons on, so we cut them off and put them in the pockets.

John locked his keys in the car yesterday. We were really worried because it took him two hours to get me and your father out.

Three of your friends went off a bridge in a pick-up truck. Ralph was driving. He rolled down the window and swam to safety. Your other two friends were in back. They drowned because they couldn't get the tailgate down.
There isn't much more news at this time. Nothing much has happened.
Your loving Mum

P.S. I was going to send you some money but I had already se
aled the envelope.

My Dateless and Timeless Diary



Living with a God


10th September 2013:  The flight landed at  0730 IST. The 8-odd hour of journey and the normal tedium associated with such journeys was missing. Rather, the numbness of a devastated mind made it all look like an image-less dream. We checked out after picking our baggage and the vast number of grieving family and relatives took over us - me, my wife and my small daughter. I quickly moved with my brother to the customs section - to take delivery of the mortal remains of my beloved mother who traveled in the same flight as us in an inanimate state. She had passed away the previous day. The demise happened in Mauritius, where i was working. She was just 70 days away from her 80th birthday. Eighty was just a number - her determination and healthy disposition has always been a great humiliating factor for all of us lazy descendants.

A chronology of the events..

5th September 2013: My first day of my annual vacation. Amma and my in-laws had come some three months ago and had completed most of the country-touring. They had their return flights for 9th - 4 days hence. I wanted to relax and make them relax in my lazy company. Early in the day, I drove out with Deepa for some shopping and had a late lunch or early dinner as it was around 6 pm on the day.  As usual, Amma insisted that she served us lunch.  After a while we all sat together to watch some TV show. 

Around 9, she had dinner and thereafter indicated some uneasiness. So we prepared her bed and put her to take rest. She threw up once immediately and ignoring it as a routine indigestion, i asked her to take rest. She asked me to play some music - i played her favorite DKJayaraman's 'nambi kettavar yevaraiyya'. Half way, she again threw up. I stopped the music and thought of sitting next to her. After i saw her awake, i  wanted to play some music and just a random attempt opened the same song but at '..adalinal manam inre shiva naamam solli pazhagu anbudan..'  I ignored the peculiar coincidence. But later realised God had started his work
              
Around 11 i moved to my bedroom at the far end of the house. Hardly a few minutes in the bed and assuring Deepa that she will sleep well, we heard the opening of the bathroom door and a simultaneous thud - much like the ones that are created by falling coconuts from trees. Deepa rushed - and screamed. Amma had fallen down
                The fall rendered her unconscious. The impact of the fall resulted in bleeding. We called for an ambulance. I have never been to hospitals nor do  i know how to handle a situation when i have to admit someone to hospital. The ambulance arrived. Amazing country that Mauritius is - the ambulance brought a couple of doctors - GPs - and it was easy for them to understand it was serious. The professional competence and care with which they bundled Amma into the van and asked us to follow in a separate vehicle was all of highest order - on a normal day i would have sung paeans but today was different
               
The beauty of working in a senior position in a foreign land has its advantages. The care and attention that one gets has to be seen to be believed. Friends double as relatives and benefactors.
                 Within a few hours - that is around 3 am on 6th, the Director of the hospital had arrived and a major surgery was planned. Amma was diagnosed of having suffered hemorrhage. It was a difficult decision - i hated surgeries and always thought surgery was one of the many ways a gullible patient was robbed of. I had to discuss with my brother - waking him up, far off in India at 4 am was itself very uneasy. We called him. Briefed him. Could do little to muffle the shock he went through. Conveyed our okay for a surgery to the doctor.
                3 hours later the Director and Surgeon walked out of the theater and assured us the surgery was successful but clots and age factor were major concerns. Amma was moved to a special ward.  Next 4 days, this day included, were tough moments. Amma was just like a plucked vegetable in a refrigerator. We prayed, Hundreds of our friends and further hundreds of . their friends prayed. Prayed for a miracle. 
                 I wanted Amma to briefly regain her full consciousness - even if death was inevitable - so that i could thank her for all greatness and perseverance in life, thank her for making me a human being that i refused to be most of my life,  so that i could apologize to her if i had hurt her in any fashion at any time in her memory, so that we all could help her do all that she wanted to do in life.

Some months ago: Amma and my in-laws, accompanied by two more families-brother's and sister's of my in-laws, arrive from India. While the latter are slated to leave in a few weeks, the former will leave on 9th September - to coincide with the terminal date of the three month tourist visa. Amma is on her second visit while it is the first for the in-laws. Quite busy at office so Deepa will be doing all the touring and sight-showing of the visitors
                During one of those sight seeing events, Amma decides to consign the entire puja-collection to the still waters of Ganga Talao. Her paraphernalia included a dozen small brass miniatures of Hindu  Gods and Goddesses, a spadikam, silver and brass coins - her treasure for over 60 years, passed on to her from different generations.  It perplexed all of us why she should throw them and of all places why in Mauritius - and of all reasons, why at the abode of Lord Shiva. Well, i shouldn't ask God a few questions.  She returned home with her Puja tray empty. No one discussed this thereafter.  Amma still sat daily before a few images of Gods in the puja room next to our garden and continued to spend 2 hours reading shlokas. A good singer, she would conclude her prayers with a wonderful ragamallika in praise of Lord Rama.

 9th September 2013: Vinayaka Chathurthi. The day started with me going to the hospital early in the morning to see if there was any improvement. Amma's BP was sharply falling. Without going into technical details, we all agreed a higher BP was better under the circumstances. In its absence,  we were witnessing a multi-organ failure. It was the fourth day in hospital. She had still not regained consciousness, So no pain whatsoever to suffer
                 
Came home to do a small puja for the Ganesha that was set up that morning. Then another round of visit to the hospital followed. Around noon, the doctors advised us to go back and come in the evening.
                     
Amma and in-laws were to travel this day. Back to India.  The tickets were still not cancelled . We decided to take up that exercise of seeking a visa-extension and postponing the date of travel after 2 pm. 
                    
1330 hours:  Took my plate of lunch to the table and had not even taken the first bite. The phone rang. Doctor called. Apologized to announce possibly the most tragic news. Amma was no more.
                     
Mauritius was celebrating Ganesha Chaturthi the following day. A long holiday was to follow - don't remember why. All Government offices under such circumstances see less activity as the day progresses. People move out earlier. The air tickets of Amma and in-laws had luckily not been canceled. . However we needed to book our tickets. Although the flight was some 6 hours later, we needed to complete all formalities. From taking charge of the body to embalming to obtaining clearance from the consulate to final approval from the health ministry - it was a long drawn process. The next direct flight was 7 days later. Any alternative to not travelling today would entail lots of issues - including having to cremate Amma in Mauritius itself. Which by itself was not a major issue but would render me clueless about further rituals.

But we had amazing friends. Everything happened without me being involved in any manner. I would never get to see such royal treatment and support from friends and governments. There are too many names and bureaucracy involved for me to mention individually. Suffice is to say that i remain indebted to everyone eternally
                   As everyone repeatedly mentioned, it was the divine soul of Amma that got all the respect in the most rightful manner. Even at death, she got treated like a supreme being

We took the flight to India. Bangalore. Amma was supposed to be travelling sitting. But she lay peacefully in a coffin below us. I still wonder how the date coincided. How she chose to travel on 9th September and how she decided to leave us all that very day to a different destination   

She had this in her as life's prime principle. To never ever trouble anyone or to be a burden to anyone. She would never depend on anyone. True to her belief and conviction, she never gave us an opportunity to help her. In all my life, i had never once seen her unwell. Even today, dictionaries don't exactly explain the meaning of sacrifice - she demonstrated that by living a life of selflessness and sacrifice. She was always proud of me. I am blessed that God is proud of me

How does one explain her decision to surrender her puja items to the lotus feet. That she chose Mauritius is by itself an act of God - for that country has a very historically holy reference to divine acts.  If i look back,  i realize i had lived with a God. The God had guided me all along.  Now that's gone.  There is an inexplicable vacuum in my life. 

I have my responsibilities - let me take a leaf out of my Amma's books and live it out...



R.I.P Indian Rupee - an obituary for a comatose



Rather than addressing the structural issues - which could lead to short term aberrations in the external value of INR - we have been handed harsher measures that will only exacerbate the miseries of the common man aka the SME sector of the fragile indian economy

Levels are just numbers. From the looks of it, it will be 61 tomorrow and 63 by the end of the week. Then some face-saving measures which will bring it back to 61.. life goes on.. very fortunate to be an NRI..

An Elephant and Five Wise Men

This is a modern day version of yesteryear's parable involving the royal animal and physically challenged men who attempt to describe it.

One day, five wise men decided to visit a zoo. To make this visit adventurous, they decide to walk blindfold. As they considered themselves 'five wizards of modern times' the agenda was to catch an animal and find out what it was.

The first thing they heard was the ruffle and shuffle with heavy breathing of some animate thing so the First wise man paused to ask 'hey, who is that'. It was an elephant tethered to a pillar. It did not respond  so the first wise man  thought it must be something dumb and deaf that needed help. 
                  He walked to the side of the royal animal and stretched his arms and felt the wall-like body of the elephant. Rough, coarse and hairy, he announced ' we have walked into a wall which is used to dry skins of  killed animals. Let's go back'

The second wise man could not contain himself and wanted to show the world his uncanny skills of mastery over everything. He walked forward and struck against the trunk. He grabbed the moving part and screamed, 'looks there is a large snake running over the wall. It is poisonous,  we should complain to the authorities and throw it out'. And he stepped back

The third man, always known to be smart and taking sides depending on the strength of  any argument, took his turn to describe to clear the ignorance of  his friends - encountered the tusks of the giant animal. He declared 'these are round and sharp. Looks like a pair of spears, must be a forest nearby. Someone planning to cut the woods or poach an animal. It's dangerous, let's run away', he stated to echo the first wise-man's sentiments, which appeared to be stronger so far.

The fourth man always known to be cool, wanted to show how a calm approach gets anyone to the truth of the matter, walked across and ended up at the back of the elephant. He waved his arm and ended holding the tail of the giant animal. 'This is a thick rope used to climb walls,  so some crook is trying to jump the zoo. You both are wrong. Let us be alert to catch the traitor' he yelled

Watching all this in stoic silence, the fifth man decided unless one gets to the bottom of anything, there is no way the truth is known. So he crouched and lay flat right under the belly of the elephant. He spread his arms and legs and ended up touching the legs of the tamed animal. It was now his turn to announce the 'new truth'. He proclaimed, 'you blind people, you are all wrong. These are logs of wood, perhaps stacked against the zoo compound by some unscrupulous person - either to smuggle them out or use them to jump the fence'. 'Don't waste time speculating on things that you don't know' was his appeal to his colleagues.

By now each of the five wise men had completed his task of describing the unknown matter in his blind-folded countenance.  They decide to sit together to take stock of their experience, all blindfolded. So the fifth genius announces 'let's infer what we have 'seen' so far before taking action'. He narrates what he has heard so far from each of his blindfolded, wise colleagues, adds his own impression and moderates a few things and says 'this appears to be a dangerous place. A room with choppers, ropes and wooden logs. Looks like a slaughter house. Let us move out. We wanted to see an elephant that is respected as God and is majestic and royal. Instead we have entered a dangerous area. We should set it on fire after reporting to the authorities'. 


And they all walked out, leaving the mammoth elephant confused about what it actually was to mankind. The intelligent animal wondered how misunderstood it remains. Why did not one of them think of opening his eyes to see the reality!!


A dream fulfilled

Square peg in a round hole - that was how i fancied myself when i was first drafted into the dealing desk by one of my many fine bosses in the State Bank Group. Apart from possessing tremendous guts and an ability to remain unfazed (a trait that got totally whittled as i grew up) in adversity, i had nothing to flaunt for a trader's career. Maybe i was good in mathematics (at my prime i could multiply a 10 digit number by another 10 digit number in a sinlge line in some 10-20 seconds) or maybe i was mistaken for being analytical - whatever, the General Manager took the sort of risk i had learnt to  take many years later..

I have not liked to do anything but trading, ever since. Have had a few bad years. One worst ever. But the journey has been pleasant and most challenging. The pleasure of being able to create wealth and value from out of thin air has been how i have seen myself engaged all these years.

Therefore, when someone asked me


20 Years as a Trader

Come 31st July and i complete 20 years as a Trader in Financial Markets. What started in 1991 as an experiment (it was my bank that experimented with my enthusiasm), has consumed me and is my passion. I have had only a few bad years (last year was one and will remain the worst. I got into totally avoidable controversies and  paid a very heavy price for my silence or reticence. Have forgotten that - in the final analysis everyone pays his dues) and the best part of the profession is i learn every day. This is perhaps one of the fewest professions  where humility is earned free of charge.

I have relished and lived every moment of this career as a trader and would not want to do anything else in life. God has blessed me with the right temperament and environment to prosper. So Thanking the Almighty and continuing... The woods are lovely, dark and deep. But I have promises to keep, and miles to go before I sleep. I have met some great friends in this long journey and would always cherish their association.
 
Network Failure
It must be one of the two: Either it should be sheer arrogance or it must be a wrought-iron principle in never going for favors, that should do the explaining.

Its about me. I do not consider networking essential. I am robustly opposed to the belief that we should develop a strong network and relationship-based acquaintance in society. I think this again is the contribution of the folks from the MLM world who bring together hordes of unknown faces in order to sell. I hate to sell. I always consider a value based system will buy what is good.

I generally loathe the act of piling on people and thrusting myself on half-familiar bigwigs in order to be seen as a social. I do not believe in the philosophy of societal insurance which is available in the form of being connected to powerful people so that I can be saved in times of emergency. Why in the first place committing a mistake and seeking protection, is what I tell myself.

Well the loved ones ask me ‘what do you do when others also want to do that on you as you are also a half-matured bigwig’. I have no answer but I almost make it clear that help from me will be only a physical effort (maybe I will climb a steep mountain to pluck that ambrosia like flower to cure a headache of a suffering friend) but nothing beyond. Nothing actually belongs to me, except my will and my energy. So I cannot commit anything beyond. Expend that is yours, is the policy.

Who am I            
I don’t believe in being an open book. I consider it one of my best virtues as i practice this philosophy of being an enigma assiduously. The couple of occasions I tried to be honest or frank, I got severely punished. My honesty helped a large-bellied, wolf-in-sheep's-clothing policeman to  be rewarded while i remained the real lamb. So I have been Googling hard to find out ways to be perfectly deceitful and a sly-gentleman - a monk liable to be mistaken for a God (a monk is no God, he is only someone who has relinquished). And no success yet.

But who and what exactly am I. A vulnerable, timid, short-tempered, uncompromising, rigid, sharp, low-profiled, silently rebellious, conscience-smitten individual? A simpleton whose early years of deprivation have longer shadows?  An easily incitable character? A stupidly indifferent  bloke (that was why i allowed the plunderers to prosper?)  Or is there any other emotion left out? I think it is something of all of these and something beyond. The choice not to be an open-book may not be an accident. It must have arisen out of some necessity somewhere sometime in my early years. 

What is also equally true is that i have been blessed all along. When things look awful, there is an invisible helping hand. Is it true for everyone?

When Ego is a Virtue 

I have always been mistaken for possessing elephantine ego by the ones closer. Have consciously nurtured this ego, which to me is a chastity belt and an impregnable defense against the vices of the times. An upholder for moral rectitude, it helps me keep me inside my shell and helps me avoid seeking favors and benefits for my progress. Given my freedom, I would prefer to stand in the queue always but it ends up putting to sufferance the ones that depend on my existence – hard luck folks. This ego should be a virtue in the broader canvas called life. But it also means I can never mean business.

Middle Class Morality   

I don't really know how my daughter will feel a few decades from now but i lost the first  round of battle with the education system in securing admission in one of those much talked and hyped about kindergartens... Or was it squarely my inability to pull strings and open purses, i wouldn't know. Whatever, she starts off by standing in the queue. Never a great PR guy, and hardly a believer in seeking one-time fav
ors, i got  to learn another valuable lesson in life. Talking about standing in the queue, i sometimes wonder if i am like that proverbial englishman, who will stand in a queue even if he is alone.

Raavan    
This must be season of adaptations - first Rajneeti masquaraded as a modern day Mahabharata and now Raavan as Ramayana. Not sure if these are grotesque attempts to vilify the sentimental values associated with the two epics. But surely Raavan disappoints. This will go down as Maniratnam's first collossal flop. Except for Santosh Sivan's brilliant camera work and imagination, the film is drab and totally misses the maniratnam touch.  Its sheer waste of time to compare the plot to Ramanayan and i would rather spend my time reading Valmiki's original work to see if Ram, Hanuman or even Raavan himself had that peculiar sense of comedy or buffoonery which the three lead characters often indulge in. The best moment was when i came out of theaters and walked my way back home in pouring rains.


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A Chinese Vacation


Not that i have great qualities as a hard-core traveller nor do i want to use this blog to flaunt my chinese experience, but the small savings we had and the desire to take our little one for a Disney experience, took me to some parts of east asia and then a full fledged holiday in some parts of China. Have very little understanding of how communism differs from capitalism, but what i could easily perceive was that a monarch based economy had more virtues than a democratic set up. The chinese have easily spent a few decades developing strong infrastructure from where the only way forward is unfettered growth. Even if a housing bubble bursts, even if its GDP grows half of what it is now (remembering Jim O'niel), the parallel shift in its middle-class people's lifestyles will not be much lower than what it is.  Why is, in most parts of the world, 6 pm  always one second after 17:59:59hrs while it is before 2100 hours that day in India?
 
World Space  

Like all good things, world space called it quits. For those like me, addicted to radio and music,  the AR Rahman endorsed digital radio station's exit was a blow. Perhaps the pain could have been lesser if the company had not collected one-two-three year subscriptions just a few months before deciding to wind up. It was not just the monetary loss that hurt, it was the irresponsible act of the franchisee in handling the entire affairs that made me wonder "What's in a name. Everyone is entitled to cheat and act deceitfully".

3 Idiots   
Aamir has always fascinated me – he has the ability to demand totally gripping attention from you for that 150-200 minutes he appears on celluloid, even if it were an adapted stuff. 3 Idiots falls into that category unmistakably – a good attempt at providing subtle humor. Shouldn’t it have been called 4 idiots – for all his comic appearance, Bomi Irani qualified as much as the others. But leave it, the director knows better. I wouldn’t know if there is any place like Schools/Colleges that have served the movie industry so well as veritable joints for providing comic relief – nor have there been teachers and lecturers in movies who are living examples for generations. 
The movie is hilarious at places and slapstick at others. Did we require so much of ‘bare-acts’ for sake of humor? But overall, thoroughly enjoyable. The title song (Moitra himself?) and landscape photo-shots provide a scintillating start, well sustained right through till the end. Ofcourse, it is my personal opinion that the movie would have been much better if it was some 15-20 minutes shorter. Jaffrey comes up as an irrelevant – the storyline would have been as effective with a little bit of twisting of the screenplay.  Child birth gets a new meaning and I only hope that people don’t start shunning hospitals and start using cycle pumps, vacuum cleaners and windmills to perform surgeries!!!
            By the way, which part of this movie has its origins in Five-point-Someone..? Years ago when DevAnand made The Guide, RKN cried silently. That’s the lesson for all our writers.


Avataar    
A back-to-back cinema binge (isn’t two a crowd these days) and I end up watching Avatar the day after 3 idiots. For someone not aware it was a James Cameron effort(I defiantly turned a deaf ear to my wife’s suggestion that the maker of Titanic is at it again..) and also believing Avatar was an Hindi movie, I had every reason to call it a bluff when some friends told ‘it is a must watch’.  Haven’t I played this prank of forcing people to watch movies that didn’t screen the third show of its first day in cinemas!!!
            Avatar is yet another in the series of fictions that glorify either the pre-historic man or makes a point that life at Mars or Venus is more intelligible than on Earth. But it has a dimensional angle to its appearance on the screen and one has to salute the Cameroon crew for some stupendous pieces of imagination and cinematography. Surely a few Oscars are guaranteed. It must be purely my fault that I confuse myself between parts of 2012 and Avatar. This one is worth watching once.
 

 
Taarinie       
That is a name that fascinates me the most these days.  Am amazed by how children learn new things, how they adapt to change and growing challenges, how they accept the adult world around them as integral to their progress. Do they think,  does the child analyse as much as we do, does it plan, does it have biases... That's as myriad a thought as the stars in the sky.   Whatever be the reality, my best moments are with my cute little daughter. Even after a tiring day, i get sufficient energy to jump and hop like a circus monkey for her sake and the fountainhead of that inspiration is her infectious innocent smile.  It must be nature's gift to watch a girl child grow. As Ruskin would say " You may chisel a boy into shape, as you would a rock, or hammer him into it, if he be a better kind, as you would a piece of bronze. But you cannot hammer a girl into anything. She grows as a flower does"




2012   
That's the name of a movie. Will well end up in that vast list of movies that promised so much but disappointed. One wonders after 3 hours of awe if it was a failed attempt to glorify a myth - that oft-repeated doom's day prediction - or if it was a pretentious commercial venture from the start. Whatever be the fate, i did enjoy some moments of set-work and picturisation.




The Travails of a Weather Forecasting    
It's been raining cats and dogs today. And the forecast is for heavy rains and even for a cyclone threat tomorrow. The IMD revels in such ominous warnings.  And like all customer centric organisations  I have to decide on how to conduct my business the on the morrow. Years of experience makes me take the routine chance of expecting a bright, sunny and pleasant day.
* * * * * *
A very pleasant and sunny day - i was afterall not wrong when i expected this last evening


The First Lessons of Life  
 
The first ordeal of life confronts my little angel. She is to appear in an interview for starting her life in school. We tried for a week, teaching her what she should and what she should not do. And, as parents, also prepared ourselves to say the best and most intelligent things within the few seconds we get to express ourselves. Isn't it strange that my performance determines my kid's nursery admission. 
                     In the end, the kid had other ideas. We will never in our life be able to figure out what she did in that cubicle for over 20 minutes and came out like a truimphant soldier.

Another Momentous Day in Life

15th November should always remain an important day in any calendar for me - Not that i contributed my slice of history to mankind this day but this was the day that is recorded as my birth date. I can choose to be defiant and bullying and yet claim immunity from counter-attack this day.

An Historic letter.

I always believe no one is useless. If nothing, one can always serve as an example.
May not be too relevant to what is produced below from Archives....

A letter sent by a railway passenger to the authorities.........

"I am arrive by passenger train Ahmedpur station and my belly is too much swelling with jackfruit. I am therefore went to privy. Just I doing the nuisance that guard making whistle blow for train to go off and I am running with 'lotah' in one hand and 'dhoti' in the next ... when I am fall over and expose all my shocking to man and female women on platform.

I am got leaved at Ahmedpur station.

This too much bad, if passenger go to make dung that dam guard not wait train five minutes for him. I am therefore pray your honour to make big fine on that guard for public sake. Otherwise I am making big report to papers."

Okhil Chandra Sen wrote this letter to the Sahibganj Divisional Railway Office in 1909. It is on display at the Railway Museum in New Delhi . It was also reproduced under the caption "Travellers' Tales" in the Far Eastern Economic Review.

Any guesses why this letter was of historic value?

See below:




It apparently led to the introduction of toilets in trains.

Do we humans also fall into Wave Analysis

Someone recently asked Robert Prechter (the modern day Elliot) which wave was his career in, now?

He said it was the fifth. Well it's still impulse and bullish (his three was a primary bullish he says). One doesnt know which sub-wave of W5 he is currently in - but it throws open the thought if we humans also should categorise our movement in life into wave-patterns.

Which wave should i then be in? Given my memory of wide swinging fortunes, and the difficulty with which my near ones at home are handling me always, i should be in a perpetual W4 - one that is so complex that it has consumed every letter of the Alphabet!!

Sachin's brilliant 175 against the Aussies

Sunday today, yet another match against the touring Aussies.

It is played a couple of days after that familiar defeat at Hyderabad sometime last week. And am not sure if Sachin is playing today's match or if he did, not aware if he scored or not. Afterall we have a few more batsmen who are paid to perform.

The humble myself as a cricketer of reasonably good abilities, i must admit i was fortunate to see that brilliant 175 last week at Hyderabad.

I have always held this against Sachin - that he is not a Lara or a Ponting or a Jayawarene or a Jayasuriya, or a Gibbs. He has never won a match single handedly for the team. Or if he did, there have been fewer. And he failed to do so yet again at Hyderabad. That said, i cannot ignore what must rank as one of his best innings.
Often a good innings by a batsman is measured against playing conditions, the pitch especially. Thats why i still rate Vishy's 97 against Windies at chennai decades ago as a masterpiece of an innings. It was a difficult pitch against the fiery Roberts and Co.
This innings by Sachin last week was an effort to chase a monumental total. Cricket is often a mind-game. Bevan and Richards had tremendous mental strength in their own ways. Sachin played every stroke in the book, rotated strike cleverly, ran quite efficiently, paced his innings absolutely brilliantly and Aussies never realised the pain of moving closer to defeat. Until fatigue or his penchant for disappointing India overtook....
My brother often would say Indian cricket must have turned many ardent sports-lovers into incorrigible alcoholics.

Two States by Chetan Bhagat

After a long time, happened to read an Indian novel that bristles with the subtleties of Indian humor. Not because it has portions that explain the travails of the modern banker, not because one of its characters is an avoidable byproduct of a Tambram household and not because of a hundred odd similar reasons... but because i saw shades of my most favorite human being RKNarayan in this novel.
if i ever got an opportunity to speak to Chetan i would ask him if he was also an RKN follower.

Cant help saying this - Chetan got away with some shockingly derisive remarks about a revered community. Could just be that he is yet to make it to the Rushdie League!!!

Talent abounds in SaReGaMa LiL Champs

Mind boggling - cannot help aping Himmmmesh Reshammmmiya - if i have to describe in a short phrase the immense talent that these little wonders possess, i have to say it's Mind Boggling (was he saying mind blowing??). For someone who is consumed by good music (is there anything called bad music??), the first reaction at listening to these prodigal champs is a prayer on lips to live long enough to enjoy the divine pleasure of good music and great musicians. Decades ago when U.Srinivas played his probably first public concert (rock fort temple trichy), i froze at the sheer talent. Still remember the kid srinivas was feeling dreary and sleepy when the thani-aavarthanam was being played.

And these lil angels have left me hollow and vague - wondering if i was worth anything in life.

R.K.Narayan

No one has inspired me or moved me so much as RKN - every time i read his book, i discover something new even if it was the same book. The English Teacher - i must have read it for the 75th time and after i put down the book, i feel like closing my eyes for a couple of days in astonishment.
Too Many Transits

Beginning early september when Saturn transited into Virgo, the remainder of the year will be notable for some major transits of the slow moving planets. Rahu/Ketu, Jupiter change houses between nov-dec. mars just moved into cancer and will remain debilitated for the next 8 months. Oh God, thats too much.