Anil's Last Stand... IMPOSSICANT!

Or is it BCCI's temporary stance?

The other day - a week or so back - my father and I were on another of our afternoon, post-lunch discussion about one of the three inevitables of our desh: cricket. And he did opine that if anyone must be made captain of Indian test team, it must be Anil Kumble. The logic: well, he's had a long, faithful and earnest career, the only blemishes being those overstays in the middle with his bat when team-thinktanks had delusions that he can bat in the slog overs and a lot of hot air capable of inflating zeppelins into high-altitude places flowed between his misses and the keeper's gloves. The only thing he hasn't had is captaincy. Inwardly I cursed my father: 'why do we need to heap that insult on Indian cricket's only true sportsman and on-field player?' Of course, BCCI must have heard my father's wish and not my un-wish. Anil today is the captain.

Now of course, when every dog has his day and unrequired comebacks or retentions in the team inspite of sustained and consistent non-performances, why not Anil! He has even scored that enviable comedy of a century that put the smiles back on a dressing room full of gloom in England recently. He has batted, bowled, fielded off fours and taken catches. As Kris Srikant recently told in his own inimitable idiotic way on Times Now late-night immediate reaction to Anil Kumble being made captain of Indian Test Team, he's a South Indian and even a qualified engineer (meaning he's got a degree...)!

And our - my father and mine - discussion proved meaningful in the aftermath. But... to what end? Being captain of Karnataka as well as now of India has only been by default. Has he deserved it? I mean, these days, being captain of a team in India is not earning accolades. It means an insult. The clowns who run the richest and most sinful organisation in the world pick someone only because someone else is not ready. Anil Kumble is the clown king till the crown prince gets ready. Anil deserved it much before. Of course, the stoic soldier he is, he will strive his best, without as much as a monosyllabic ayes or nahs.

But, my heart bleeds for him.

Crusade, Spiritual Counseling and being Born Again

Ruminations - 2

Am I I? Or who am I? What is my identity? Is Identity a requisite? Does identity matter? Why then are there so many questions on identity in the first part of any application form? One thing is certain. This is a short paragraph, relatively speaking.

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Ruminations - 1

This is India. I mean, we are supposed to be Indians, from the country founded and raised originally on the banks of Sindh River and spread to occupy the sub-continent. May by the use of that word "occupy" is significant. May be not. I am not commenting. All is conjecture. Then again, Sindh, Inde, India, Hind all point to one thing: this is Hindu country. At least, twas! And yet, when I look around, what do I see. Three out of ten neighbours in every neighbourhood is likely to be a non-Hindu. Frequently there is bound to be a Muslim in this list and two out of every seven can be born-again Christians or within 500 meters there is bound to be an Islamic, if not, definitely a Christian worship place, a Fancy Goods Store or a Departmental or Provision store of the local variety run by a Muslim or Christian; to add to it, in certain localities, there may even be a Dhabba and some Tibetian or North-east student community presence indicating Sikh and/or Buddhist ilk. Yet, we are shouting about Hindu and anti-Hindu sentiments; and yet further, Hinduism is termed as a trampling religion that is non-secular. Parties are being accused of being fundamental and Hindu right-wing. The Prime Minister of this country is a Sikh. The person who ramrods the President and Prima Minsiter is a Christian. More unequivocally put, comes from the proximity of Vatican. The erst-while President was a Muslim gentleman. The current incumbent is a champion of underpriveleged; by which is meant the Dah-lits. Aren't they all? And yet this is called Hindu country and being Hindu has come to mean anti-secular... because, secularism aims at vernicht-ing that so-called Hindu identity in order to bring about a certain state of multi-religious, multi-sectarian society so that people are kept divided along religious, casteist, sectarian and yes, sexarian. I refuse to call it sexist, for often, again and unabashedly, in a very partisan and polarised way, that is equated to chauvinism, as though one can't be a female sexist. You see, you can't even say feminist as the antonym of chauvinist, like you can't call Christianity or Islam or Zorastrianism the antonym of Hinduism. Now of course, Sikhism or Buddhism are excluded conveniently because they are really the elite and ignorable minority. The antonym of Hinduism is the priveleged domain of Da-lits these days, like sexism equals chauvinism and feminism is a redemtive word for rallying for a noble cause. For: anything originally allegedly suppressed or underpriveleged or opportunity-denied has come to become elite, positive, inclusive, and hence minority. Very confusing? Imagine my confusion and visualise the lines of chaos running on my visage early in the morning (if you consider 6.30 a.m early enough!) when I pick my customary The Hindu and shake the inevitable supplementary sections and daily appendages of ink on sundry newsprint to shake off the trojans and backdoors that come stuffed like lettuce in a burger. What befalls? A handfull of 70gsm Christian literature falls out! Well, I always thought these sundry lettuce stuffings only take the form of fliers for furnitures and mosquito nettings and Reliance Fresh. But no! Conversion attempts begin at 4 a.m in the morning when they get lettuced into newspapers and fall out of the bread of commode-reading habit around 7 p.m at the latest. And yet this is Hindu country. And yet Da-lits are rallying for more and more minority status. And yet a Sikh is a Prime Minister of this country. You see, this is Congress country. Every party that can threaten their stay at top would be non-secularised, every society that can undermine their peaceful non-co-existence will be campaigned un-democratic or non-socialist friendly. The commies are the exception,being a law unto themselves. As useless and un-country-friendly. The commies don't know what they want. They neither can become majority, nor can reach consensus within themselves, or can successfully divide the bread between the monkeys. And yet, they rule the people who rule the man who rules the country. So who rules the country, what country are we in, what are our guiding principles, what is our religious or secular, democratic or fundamental status? Are we being secularised or vaticanised? Are we being made minority or majority? Is minority the majority or majority the minority? Are we being subverted or converted? Do people who talk of revolution or taking over of India by the military as the only purgative, laxative, whatever-ative realise it is not even working in the proverbial "hatti" called Pakistan, India itself being the Kabab of the sub-continental spread (after all, Pak-stan was a Pak-stance of Jinnah from pre-partition India). Is it better to be isolated from the main-land sub-continent, courtesy waters of Indian Ocean, like Sri Lanka? Is this blog about religion, politics or our country? Do we even have a single identity? Is it even possible to think of a physically undivided India since we are mentally so divided? Would anyone have the sanity to take the double-barrel and blow the heads of the dynastic party that rules this country who is in turn ruled by a 'woman' who is rank-outsider even in her country of origin? Would it really be the panacea for the common good of the people of this country if the figure-heads are wiped out? Or do we need to overhaul the nomenclatures of the political offices? Why are we even made aware of these differences? While we are going over this, hundreds of infants are dying, girls are being raped, boys are being kidnapped, women are being raped on the highways of Delhi, Noida or Gurgaon in the backseats of cars and SUVs. We remain indifferent because the 24 hour newschannels have benumbed our sensibilities to horrors by packaging them for their own TRPs. Gone are the days when newspapers use to carry news. There are only olds, thanks to live newschannels. Good news are no more news. Bollywood and ramps are the only celebrative affairs worth beaming as good news, else all news is blood, gore, or al-gore or bush. Only one thing is certain. This is a very very very long paragraph.

Rahul's Last Stand

While people unaware of the title's significance should not mistake this as Dravid's 'perhaps' final stand in the company of a quick scoring Ganguly in India's second innings at The Oval, others who are aware of the undertone reference to Gen James Custer's Last Stand must realise there is an inversion of application involved here. The historical Custer took a stand against the Indians and wiped them out in an American version of Jallianwallah Bagh. Rahul the Indian (East, though) took his brave stand to wipe out the Whites (represented by English) in the recently concluded Test Series, thus bridging a relative history apparent only to crazies like me! Another metaphorical post-colonial piece of sorts! But, let's to cricket...

A lot of hue and cry - as the cliche goes - went into the making of an Indian second innings declaration at The Oval recently during the 3rd n-Power Pataudi Trophy India-England Test Series. Dravid was severally accused uniformly about an erroneous declaration tactic: it came late; later than it must have been; in the first place, he must have had the English to follow-on; an act of cowardice, etc etc.

Chandu Borde - the naam ka waste Manager cum Coach of sorts - was quick to the cover up at the press conference at the end of day 4, where England went back to the Pavilion and to nightly hibernation at 56 for no loss of wicket, secure in the feeling, at the worst, they can't lose this series. The English perhaps believe in the dictum of saving the battle even if the war is lost. Ah! that English sense of Honour and Pyrrhic victory!! Anyway, Mr. Borde quickly refuted the criticisms and allegations and accusation levelled at Dravid's decision saying the team was only ensuring that absolute no-loss situation first before anything else.

I wondered for a moment! If the same decision had been taken by a Mark Taylor or Mike Atherton or Nasser Hussain or even Ricky Ponting, how the Western media and pundits of the game would have applied plaudits that defy all logic and common sense in the name of sportsmanship and in accordance of bravery in the confines of the laws and the spirit of the game once played by the several Sirs Play a Lots of English and Aussie shores. Bah! Humbug! Nonsense and Crap! If Taylor does it, it is sporting declaration. If Dravid does it, unanimous cudgelling. The shrinking hypocrisy of it. But what else to expect, it is an Englishman's game!

The point is this. Even the fecking Indian press, especially the Indian television news channels that shamelessly have been tirelessly working proudly as foreign channel tie-ups, were bent on blackening Dravid and squeezing every bit of public sentiment and hysteria to defame Dravid, not in the interests of the game they seek to preserve through the several well-intended (or so we must believe) debates and big fights they initiate in special 1 hour slots everytime India takes a bashing. (It is another matter that if India does not get a bashing elsewhere, they will concoct one). Actually, it was a very brilliant tactical work by Rahul Dravid. The backdrop is this: no-one has successfully chased large scores at The Oval; the fifth day is infamous for its spin assistance, according to the pundits as well as the retro-statisticians of the game. And there was the risk that England, after the realisation that if they applied themselves a bit more (and some timely assistance and bursary from the umpires), they can emulate India's first essay big score, thus bat for two full days and save the test. Now, looking at how they played and almost scored 400 runs without losing out wickets much, they could have, had Dravid taken the chance to impose follow-on. What if they had scored 600 playing out a whole lot and Panesar & Anderson came back (with assistance from umpires of course) to bundle India out in the second innings. We have crumbled before. The chances of India crumbling on the 5th day to the swing and life of Anderson and Tremlett as well as spin of Panesar must have come into Rahul Dravid and the other think-tanks' calculation. And thus, it is a very wise decision to let India bat inspite of the temptation of imposing follow-on to attempt an innings win... or a 100+ target chase in the fourth innings. Also, with Zaheer nursing a leg-strain and Sreesanth not being able to find his rhythm, it was the best decision a captain would have taken. So stop taking about it, whiners and whingers of Indian cricket.

It was an absolutely wise Last Stand the Indian took against the Whites and ensured an Indian victory.

The Anatomy of Murder and the Killing Fields

Hola... here goes the unedited version of my Citizen Report to The Grossly Commercial Company's recent international premiere of Timeri Murari's two plays at the Metro Plus The Hindu Theatre Festival 2007:

These are days when anything indigenous is exciting. I do not know whether it is a little low-esteem thing on the part of Indians. We go gaga when someone goes celeb internationally from India. Be it Paes, Sania, Narain Karthikeyan... be it embracing a newly discovered Sunita Williams... Glad to say, I don't get excited about it, because I think we Indians are no different from others if we put our attitude on our sleeve and work. But on the night of 7th August 2007, at the Metro Plus Hindu Theatre Festival, I WAS really excited for once. The reason... above all the brand building exercise of tall and hackeneyed names of luminary theatre personalities adorning the stage and groups that have become more the "got to be there" to add to the tradition and box-office assurance, there was something genuine to celebrate.

The Fest had its First. A Chennai playwright premiered at a Chennai Theatre Festival... aptly so in the Chennai Chapter. I think, the Chennai Chapter is a good idea. For those people grousing about Chennai Chapter in a condescending way, I guess over the last three years, the quality dished out from visitors has left often times a lot to be desired and it is to the credit of Chennai groups, they have acquitted much better. And last night The Grossly Commercial Theatre Company's international premiere of our own Timeri Murari's double bill on the anatomy of murder and killing and assassins' minds was something Chennai ought to be proud of.

The first play on the attempt to assassinate Salman Rushdie by two naive villagers desperate to make the big bucks was a very poignant and telling statement on the lure of the filthy lucre. It is many things at many layers. These two bumpkins are no different at one level from the agrarian exodus to the cities to get better living. At another level it is a study of a contaminated human mind that is very Faustian in the hands of the lady who is their Mephisto, luring them to sell their souls to a cause they don't even comprehend or believe in . But in the end it is a very BoBo-GoGo Becketian predicament, having waited for their own Godot, as they realise the futility of it all. The idea was beautiful. Mr. Murari had chosen his concept well. The only problem about the script was... like so many of Indian scripts, in the execution the shadow falls. The amount of platitudes and cliched expressions creeping in in those moments when the playwright starts getting into the psychological and philosophical territories detracted from the theatrical illusion we were getting mesmerised into. The moments of theorising were agonising to say the least. Could have probably avoided. But knowing it is a first performance script and not yet published, there still is time to rework to make it a finer piece of theatre to have emerged from Chennai yet.

The second play... well, was nothing to write home about in terms of scripting. But the narrative flow was neater and the dialogues were very Fugardian. It really reminded me of the two convicts in The Island by Athol Fugard. Except these are an old assassin and a young and proud killer. Ishwar was simply fantastic, to put it mildly. "The Killing Time" was and will remain an example of what the power of theatre is! If you put two right actors who are capable of bringing out a good chemistry and pit their pride and acting talents against each other... it is a director's coup and it is to the credit of director Deesh Mariwala that this play worked from page to stage. His minimal style of theatre making complemented an evening that would have been spoilt with sets and sound for distraction. Again, as regards the script, though it was taut in its narrative structure and inventive in its cyclical style, I must say I left the hall wondering like several others whom I heard discussing, was it the acting that won the day for the playwright? In any case, last night Chennai Theatre was the winner and richer for that experience. If this is the sign of things to come, forget the Ghosts of Christmas Past and let's look forward to the other two plays in the Chennai Chapter that has already shown a remarkable departure from the pitiful spate of comedies where wannabes hang about to be seen. Here is a Chapter that is Theatre with a T, despite its many teething shortcomings, that I hope gets sorted as it grows!

Notes from Nowhere - this and that blogettes

Nimitz and the Left-paranoia - A Crocodile and the Monkey fable


USS Nimitz had arrived and finally all the crowing about had come to nothing. They docked 2 nautical miles away from Chennai coast. The Marxist Left was not right, as they most times are. Everyone is missing the point. Everyone is making a beeline for shouting about India's security, as though these are uncompromising guardians of Indian security. Put them all on the border to face the infiltrators, then we'll know. It's easy to do armchair speculation and talking as though they are the guardians of the fortress that India is. Even as the resident-sailors of USS Nimitz are busy helping clean up slums and NGO premises for underprivileged, a lot of unnecessary noise is being made to politicise their presence. Well, I don't for a moment think the sailors going out to slums is a diversionary tactic while something ominous is brewing inside the Ships with people sitting on computers and studying the South and South-East Asian region.

Ultimately everyone is missing the point about the docking of USS Nimitz on Indian shores. They are not recce-ing India, by any chance. What are they going to gain doing that when they're willing to sign Nuke deal. It's probable that the signing itself is a trade-off for bigger things, of which Nimitz-docking is probably but an aperitif. Not even Pakistan then; or on a long range - Iran or Iraq. Everyone's pretty clear now on Iranian uraniaum enrichment situation. My guess is China. Or is there another significance? Are we missing the point: Bush is conveniently meeting Putin back home in Maine, while Kremlin had been vehemently trying to make the US not deploy Nuclear Shields and Scanners in Central and Eastern Europe. Is this a diversionary tactic that US is good at playing? Remember, the whole idea behind US going to war - every, every time - is that the incumbent President is battling problems internal and busy trying to last the term as well as to shift citizens' focus on something international. And the Democrats are all over the ruling Republicans currently too! So, Putin must watch out says the bird inside me.

The Belfast Confetti

Well, at the end we won actually handsomely, for once. And what a needed win that was! The Future Cup would not have silenced the cynical and the stoical of the choicest critics of Indian Cricket; but it sure has come at the right time. Beating South Africa two games in a row in a climate which one would expect the South Africans to exploit better means a lot to Indian Cricket at these beleaguring times of transition. Especially to travel without a coach.

In Bangladesh there was at least a make-shift Manager-cum-Coach. One must say, having started his playing career as a middle-order nuts and bolts all-rounder, Ravi Shastri had been a makeshift opener at one point, before settling down in that role and take the cake away from poor Kris Srikanth in the 1985 B&H World Championship Cup. Ravi Shastri is a master at this art of pulling the rug from rightful owners and he did that in 1985 while actually the opening partnerships India had then were courtesy Chika. Similarly in that infamous Pakistan tour at the end of which we squared (no mean achievement under circumstances) an away series, Chika was stripped of captaincy and axed from the team along with a debutant Razdan who had a 5-wkt haul, while Shastri survived. Almost a decade later, Shastri by being the right person at the right moment, cornered the glory in Bangladesh. And he knew. He left back to join his ESPN commitments. So it came to pass the Indian team travelled to Ireland without a proper Head Coach. Of course Robin Singh and Venkatesh Prasad did an admirable job. Chandu Borde sat around like Bheesma Pithamaha. Zak and Yuvi performed. Sachin enjoyed his cricket and Ganguly stayed to survive another tour. But, but...

The heart of the matter is, we did it. My earlier writing about a foreign coach and Chetan Sharma's perennial crowing on The Fourth Umpire in DD-National came to be vindicated. We did it without a foreign coach. That is the best part. See, Swaraj is always better. The Future Cup is ours. But is the future secure?

At least for the English tour, I think so. Except for the continual bomb scares. If it was so heartening to see the coronation of Yuvraj from the Crown Prince that he is to Mr. Atlas of Indian Cricket after two back to back winning finishes, it was even more poignantly sweet to see Sachin acknowledge the fact by announcing to share his Man of the Series award with Yuvi. Actually the second ODI we won would not have happened if Yuvraj had not given that solid performance with both the ball first and the bat later (or is it vice-versa?). Agreed, Sachin's 93 was important. But after India lost both openers and were tottering at 134 for 2 and then Dravid and Dhoni departing, we would have died. So, Yuvraj's contribution was bigger. But for some strange reasons Sachin got the award. And finally, it is sooooo nice to see all and everyone in Indian Cricket embracing Dinesh Kaarthick whole-heartedly. Finally, a Tamil Nadu player seems to have won one and all without any reservations. Of course, Ajay Jadeja doesn't count in the picture by any distant imagination. Kaarthick's Belfast Confetti in the company of Yuvraj to take India to a finish is something am going to keep fresh in my memory for a while!

Nishabd - an RVG Factory Shower

This is one movie that's definitely not off the Ram Gopal Varma conveyor belt. He has worked at it. I sat to watch the movie with a lot of reservations: would it have been better to have a younger Emraan Hashmi instead of AB, having heard of the storyline? But thankfully it didn't turn out another Murder or The Train. Very refreshing. Except, I must say RGV is turning out to be the Kitschlowski of Indian Cinema.

There are some scene compositions in Nishabd that reminded of the Kieslowskian treatment. Still scenes with the sheer weight of silence. The filter treatments. The glaze and the sheen of the environment put to aesthetic use. Revathi's unspoken declamation when another melodramatist director would have given her reams and reams of dialogues right out of Balaji Telefilms script. And much more. But somehow, at the end of the movie, it all sounded silly and corny. It is a kitsch movie at the end of the day. Awww... Jiah Khan is sure a winsome wench, but somehow I fell for AB's daughter (played by Shraddha Arya) in the movie. It's tough and difficult being a daughter of such a father who has a Lolita-complex. Ultimately it is an unabashed Indian version of Lolita, except, a lot of pains have been taken to romanticise a sexual subject which is so passe. And that makes... RGV definitely our Kitschlowski!