7-Aum Arivu – The Seventh (Non)Sense

- The first thing that struck me while watching the movie was how Bodhi Dharman can kick Ra. One and G. One’s ass if he was alive (and kicking, of course) in 2050. While the latter two had tonnes of superhero powers heaped on them through programming and knew only how to fight and kill, Bodhi Dharman knew how to save lives as well. Besides, if you could get others to do the killing and fighting through the power of your eyes, you don’t even need to throw all those water balloons at the fire balls like Ra. One and G.One do.

- The Chinese government’s intelligence HQ conveys top secret information to an Indian scientist through Gmail. This is a political statement like none other and puts into context the biggest war of the 21st century – Google and China vs Privacy.

- Circular referencing on Wiki is perhaps the next big tool to convince the masses that the content of the film is true. By actually showing the Wiki page for Bodhi Dharman on the screen as research material for the movie, Murugadoss dares us to disprove the facts in the movie. So, next time you are shooting a historical, make sure you edit the Wiki page before the movie hits the screens, just in case.

- When Shruti Hassan talks about bringing back to life the skills of the ancestors past by activating the genetic memory, you begin to wonder if her genes suffered from selective amnesia.

- At one point in the movie, the ‘scientist’ explains how the next generation warfare will not involve physical combat at all and then in the scenes after the battle is fought between practitioners of hypnotism who battle it out just by staring at each other. Such nuanced writing has been absent from Indian cinema for a long time. Thank you Murugadoss!

- All Superheroes have blue eyes. At least both the ones releasing on Diwali this year did.

- When NR Narayana Murthy spoke about how the IITs no longer produced the same quality of engineers as it did before, everyone scoffed at him. Now Murugadoss reveals one of the systemic faults behind the situation – a cutting edge genetic engineering lab which is closed down for 18 days because it is summer vacation time. And we wonder why there are no top notch scientific thinkers in this country. Once again, thank you Murugadoss.

Har Ek Bill Zaroori Hota Hai!

subah chaar baje call taxi ka bill

raat das baje dinner ka bill

mahine bar ka house rent bill

ek bill mein teen log cash claim kare

budget exceed karne keliye sign lena hai

koi Hotel Decent pe guest , koi Hilton mai rest

Par har ek bill zaroori hota hai

din bar goomne ka petrol bill

teen mahiney ka telephone bill

bus bill.. auto bill.. chai bill.. dahi bill..

cake bill.. coke bill..

bill real hota hai.. bill fake hota hai..

par har ek bill zaroori hota hai

Guys! Boss!! Boss!! Boss!!

Har bill Zaroori Hai Yaar!

Why should I care?

I am a middle class Indian. And I can’t get myself to care about Anna Hazare’s present protest. I can’t help but mock at the participants in the many marches. The over-hyped candle light vigils are yet to make their presence felt in this campaign. But I don’t think they are too far away. Does this make me an unpatriotic cynic?

Friends in the course of conversations and on social media have urged me to wear a black band, change my profile picture to that of Anna Hazare and copy paste messages to showcase my solidarity for the cause. What cause, I ask. Fighting corruption, they say. But I raise a red flag. Aren’t all the protests about the Jan Lokpal? The response though is re-assuring. It’s all one and the same, I hear. Really?

My mind goes back to an extremely well made Tamizh movie called Ramana, where the protagonist sets up an Anti-corruption force to, as the name suggests, battle corruption. The force sets about kidnapping the top few corrupt officials from various government departments & killing the most corrupt one, setting free the rest. Corruption magically reduces as fear sets in in the minds of the government officials. In a remarkable final scene, the protagonist rejects an offer of pardon, saying that if he took it, he would be going against the very principles that he’s been fighting for & that justice should be served. I wonder if Team Anna had seen this movie. If they were anyways going to jail, they might have as well attempted to maximize their impact when out in the open. Or will someone else rise to do that job. Who will play Bhagat Singh to Anna’s Gandhi?

As I sit and ponder over these many questions, I realize that my cynicism traces its origins to events which happened two years ago. November 26th is a date etched in the minds of every Indian, for all the wrong reasons. The strong public reaction was a bright point, though. Rallies were taken. Peace marches were held. News anchors scoured over every single detail. There was widespread anguish over how the government acted in the whole episode. And less than 6 months later as the country headed to its next general election the whole nation looked to Mumbai to see which way she would vote, or at least how much she would vote. The results were shocking, again not necessarily because of who was voted in, but because so few were voting. The people just did not turn up to vote. Cynicism found its abode in my mind. Did we actually expect that the voter will wake up and make his way to the polling booth? This was right in the middle of the Indian summer, as against a much more pleasant climate prevailing in late November. The comfort of the air conditioner & the luxury of an unexpected middle of the week holiday was of course way too alluring compared with the onerous task of electing the next government.

When the whole movement against corruption was kick-started, the Lokpal bill was seen as a possible solution. It was but the backdrop against which a larger fight was being launched. The cause was exemplary, and the solution, acknowledged as not being perfect, was put up for discussion to refine it. All’s well till this time. Then the government suddenly froze and the opposition parties were in a quandary whether to support a bill which they knew would come back to haunt them at some point or let go of a Anna given opportunity to get on the government’s back. Anna’s team suddenly forgot that the elimination of corruption was much more complex than a single law & instead fixated itself on the Lokpal bill. Unlike corruption, which is fed by excessive give and take, in this fight both parties refused to budge. An uneasy impasse was created, and despite the flurry of activity over the past two days, the deadlock remains firmly in place.

So, would it be fair if I ask that in this fight between bloated egos & botched up government machinery, why should I be forced to take a stake?

1992

The world over, obituaries are being written. The most common phrase in the cricketing world nowadays is 'ODIs are dead. Long live the T20s'. Sachin has proposed a master stroke (so named because it came from the master himself and for no particular affiliation to his suggestion).

In the midst of all this comes a humble suggestion from a cricket fan of 20 years (my age 23, take out 3 years, the time it took for me to learn what a television is). Bring us back the 1992 world cup! Agreed, I was just out of kinter garden and possibly am expected to know nothing about the World Cup. But, a little self defense before my credibility is questioned. Once, I faked illness to sit and watch the highlights of a match I had missed.

Well, now that my credibility issue is cleared, here are the reasons why I feel so passionately about that World Cup. It was the model World cup in all the senses. It had everything.

The jerseys. Coloured clothing for the first time and that was before the days when every square centimeter on a jersey was written off to a corporate giant. The design of the shirts could not have been any simpler. And the colours, the 9 participating teams had 9 distince colours. That wasn't an age when a slightly faded Sri Lankan blue shirt could be passed off for an Indian jersey and not all teams were crazy about getting green and yellow on their jerseys. A birds eye view would have revealed which two teams were playing and not some microscopic level research of jerseys to identify the different teams as is the case now. The customary start of the tournament pic featuring all the 9 teams is possibly the best of its kind.

The pitches. Australia and New Zealand were the hosts and one may not possibly need to elaborate more on the nature of the pitches. Long before sporting pictures became a hot phrase, this tournament was actually played on those. The variety of grounds in which matches were played is mindboggling. From the insanely huge MCG, in the times when boundaries were actually the advertising boards and not a 'sponsored' rope brought in 20 yards from the boundary to the lovely looking Wellington, the viewer was transported to a different world every single day. And yes, there were no standardised pitches, Perth was fast and Adelaide was the batting beauty it still is.

The crowds. Australia is possibly the most sport oriented country in the world and boy do they love their sports. And New Zealand proved that you actually don't need a billion people to fill up your cricket stadiums. It helped that there were so many day night matches, but my guess is even if every single match was played as a pure day game, the crowds would not have diminished a single bit. They were responsible for adding even more colour to the already colourful tournament.

The format. Nine teams. Each plays the other one one time each. The top four go through to the semi-finals. Simple, straight forward and so totally fair. The best teams who consistently won over the rest were the deserving semi finalists. No two ways about it. No unnecessary additions like a super eight, which as a concept still baffles me. The length of the tournament gave enough time for teams to come back from the dumps , as Pakistan clearly demonstrated, but not so long that the teams and the audience started to think that Wrold Cups had ceased to be a once in 4 year event but a 4 year event in itself.

The innovation. Much before Sanath Jayasuriya made a mockery of Prabhakar and hit Defraitas for a six which started from the Kotla and landed at the Red fort, an individual named Mark Greatbatch showed the world what one could achieve in the first few overs of a one day match. Slam wham bang was the only game this guy knew and not one person regrets it. And spinners opening the bowling? Whoever thought of that before. Dipak Patel and his captain Martin Crowe threw on the world possibly the biggest surprise of the past 2 decades and it worked seamlessly (pun may have been intended) as well.

The memories. Jonty Rhodes running Inzamam out. Javed Miandad jumping up and down to mock at Kiran More. Aamir Sohail kneeling down on the hallowed turf of the MCG offering his thanks to the Almighty at the end of it all.

The cricket. This was perhaps the biggest positive. Be it Jadeja diving full length to dismiss Steve Waugh Allan Border or Inzamam helping the cricket ball get acquainted with every single blade of grass, and a few spectators as well, with his blinding hitting through the end stages of the tournament or Wasim Akram showing the world what the whole deal about making the ball talk was, this tournament was perhaps the most complete entertainment package as far as the game was concerned.

The underdog story or maybe should we say underdogs. New Zealand and Pakistan weren't exactly expected to set the grounds ablaze. But thats what they did, and especially in their semi-final face off. Imran Khan taking pain killer after pain killer to lead Pakistan to their biggest cricketing moment ever. And what about South Africa? Just a year on from their international reappearance after a long break, they surprised and wooed us with their sensational cricket and they would have possibly completed the mother of all comebacks if not for....

The controversy. England v South Africa,22nd March 1992. Need I say more?

And yes, again. Need I say more?

The best I have watched

The other day, ( I seem to notice that is how a lot of my posts begin and therefore the unwillingness to change it) on my way to a cricket match (which shall feature later) I was narrating to the fellow travelers incidents from various matches that I have witnessed from a seat in the cricket stadium. It is then that I realized that if I made the list of the top moments that I have watched it would pretty much be a compilation of the top cricketing moments of the past decade from an Indian perspective. Here goes the list, not in any particular order.


India vs Pakistan, Chennai, 1999

This is one match no one on either side of the subcontinent's Line of Control would forget for the rest of their lives. For the 40000 odd who were present on that fateful final day, this was one of those matches which came closest to satiating all the human sensory needs. The final day began with India looking set to push on to an emotional victory with two of their best batsmen in at the start of the day. One of them would last not too long and the other would not last long enough. One got out to a peach of a delivery and the other would deliver possibly the greatest innings in a losing cause. And in the midst of all this to add to the drama was what in gully cricket terminology was a 'one pitch' catch to dismiss Saurav Ganguly. As India lost their top order barring Sachin within 100 runs, it seemed like it would be a much shorter stay at the stadium than most of us had anticipated. This was until Mongia showed exceptional grit and in his company Sachin began to blossom. This was not so much an innings of booming cover drives and sweeps over midwicket for six, but instead it was a lesson in geometry. So well did Sachin work the angles that it seemed like no field set up could contain him. He repeatedly swept Saqlain, then the biggest threat in a super star studded Pakistani bowling lineup, fine to collect two runs. As the match seemed to drift away from Pakistan, the crowd started to get into the act. As Salim Malik walked back to his position at deep midwicket, the loud cheers from the crowd got his attention and in his typical nonchalant style he conveyed back to the crowd that it would only be a matter of time before Pakistan would regain control. And surely enough within the next 20 minutes, Mongia took the ugliest swipe possible to hole out to Waqar off Wasim's bowling. If ever there was a cricketing definition of kamikaze, this was it, except of course the fact that this was an act of stupidity and not bravery. Sunil Joshi was the next man in and his straight six into the sightscreen produced a thumping noise which reverberated around the ground. This joy was however to be short lived and in its place descended a pall of gloom. Sachin got out holing out to Akram at deep cover attempting a swipe over midwicket off a Saqlain doosra. What followed after that was a procession by the Indian batsmen, from the pavilion onto the pitch and back. India would go on to lose by 12 runs and this defeat would forever rankle Sachin and the rest of the Indian public forever. What followed that though was unprecedented. As Wasim Akram and his men somehow got a brain wave to take a victory lap, what must have been apprehension about the reception they'll get turned into astonishment. As the Pakistanis made their way around the ground, the spectators stood up to give them a standing ovation, in a gesture which would go on to heal the wounds of the past in a manner which could seldom be achieved through diplomatic measures. The power of cricket and sport in general to act as a healer was made evident that day.

India vs Australia, 3rd Test, Chennai, 2001, 5th day

India had completed one of the greatest test victories just a few days back and here in Chennai they were on the verge of completing perhaps the greatest come from behind series victories. India began the day needing to skittle out the Aussies quickly and Steve Waugh was the one man who was capable of tying up the loose ends for Australia and India needed to get him out early. And they did and quickly Harbhajan wrapped the innings up and picked up 8 wickets in the innings. The atmosphere was terrific as the target was not that big a challenge and India had plenty of overs to achieve the same. Each one sitting in the stands knew they were going to witness something special. And special it was. After SS Das had got out early, local boy Ramesh and by now Indian super hero VVS Laxman set the stadium alight with some breathtaking strokes until a terrible mix up did Ramesh in. After a flurry of boundaries Sachin would also return to the pavilion and the usual death like silence ensued. As more wickets began to tumble the hearts began to flutter. Chennai 99 was back to haunt the crowd. But at the other end it seemed like Laxman could no wrong and while he was there a sense of calmness prevailed until Mark Waugh decided to take matters into his own hands. Literally. Laxman pulled an absolute half tracker from Miller with a power he was unknown for. If I had been a little older my eyes wouldn't have moved fast enough to catch what has been the best catch I have ever witnessed in a cricket stadium. The ball had well passed Mark Waugh when with a full stretch dive Waugh caught the ball. All with his usual grace well intact. All hope suddenly seemed lost. India had done it again. After snatching victory from the Aussies in the previous match, they now seemed determined to return the favor. A couple more wickets fell. Surely, it was going to be one of those romantic stories with a tragic end. Harbhajan Singh strode out to bat and one sensed the script writer had it written to perfection. With Dighe digging in, India crawled to very near the finish post. A Dighe drive through the slips had Warne running after the ball at a speed not seen from him since he was a teenager. Harbhajan drove McGrath powerfully and just as the crowd thought it was all over, the ball would go straight into the hands of the cover fielder. Again, a powerful drive. Again straight to the fielder. And then it happened. For a second or two my mind went blank. I could see nothing, feel nothing. It was the same for the more than 40000 who had assembled that day. And then the stadium erupted. India had WON! They had beaten the world champions. And this day was etched in my memories forever.

Saeed Anwar, 194, India vs Pakistan, Chennai 1997

This was my first match in a cricket stadium and what an initiation it would prove to be. A contest with lesser happenings might have possibly meant I would never return to the stadium. This was a battle. Nothing less. India and Pakistan facing each other on the 50th year of independence for both the nations in an tournament aptly named the Independence Cup. It also meant it was 50 years since some of the bloodiest scenes witnessed in the Indian subcontinent. India had won the war at the World Cup the previous year and this was their chance for revenge. And for some reason Saeed Anwar seemed to have taken it upon himself to exact that revenge. I think I may be pardoned if I say I don't remember much else about the match apart from his innings. Shahid Afridi was supposed to be the danger man. The man most likely to cause utter destruction. So when he was sent back early, India would have safely assumed that they were not going to face a huge target. Anwar, though, had other ideas. Though his entire innings was brutal in its impact and beautiful in its execution, one particular aspect stood out. Anwar's savage attack on India's best bowler. In a span of half a dozen deliveries, Anwar had lofted Anil Kumble to three sixes in the long on and midwicket region. As Anwar got closer and closer to the world record, the buzz in the crowd grew louder. And as he passed the world record, I am sure for some time he would have thought he was playing in Lahore or Karachi for such was the ovation he got. To be honest, it would not be an exaggeration to state that every single spectator felt a tinge of sadness when Ganguly took a stumbling catch at short square leg to dismiss Anwar, six short of the first ever ODI double century, a feat no one came close to beating till February 24th 2010. More importantly, that day, I learned how important it is to appreciate good cricket and a great innings.


Sehwag 81 off 68 balls, India v England , Chennai, 2008

Seldom does an innings lasting 68 balls so dramatically change the course of a test match. And to think that the change of course took only half the 68 deliveries in the real sense is what is even more fascinating. India had toiled long and hard in the field that day. Dismissing England was proving to be much more difficult than had been imagined. Strauss especially was playing out of his skin and his century in both the innings looked like pretty much sealing the match for England. Through a combination of some reverse swing and inspired bowling, India managed to skittle out the lower order and a declaration by Strauss left India with seemingly a little too much to do. Through a couple of days in the match I had the opportunity to sit with the Barmy Army and it was an experience by itself. To see such a bunch of dedicated cricket fans and to witness their singing and cheering for their cricketers was a reassuring sight for a cricket addict like me. Through most of the fourth day, the folks in the Barmy Army had been singing and dancing and throwing taunts at the Indian fans. Until Sehwag started his blitzkrieg. The home crowd found its voice and the Barmy Army lost theirs. Brutal cuts, upper cuts and a lot more never seen before , never after seen shots were unleashed by the man. It seemed only a matter of time before he got to his century. But alas, he fell victim to Swann late in the day. As he trudged off the pitch, one felt that while he had every right to be disappointed, we the crowd had nothing to complain about. Tendulkar and Yuvraj would lead India to a famous victory the next day, but for once even the commentators and the match referee got it spot on in handing the man of the match award to Sehwag.


More to follow in Part 2!

Run Sachin Run!

If my mind was a 800 TB memory dump with 400 TB of images, Sachin would possibly occupy 100 TB of that space.

Sharjah 1998 : Shane Warne is being taken to the cleaners by Sachin. Shane Warne decides to come around the wicket. Shane Warne barely lets go of the ball. Sachin is half way down the track. The ball lands up in the hands of one of the thousands of adoring fans in the stadium. The crowd goes mad. A nation falls madly in love. The love story continues unabated. No breakups. Little squabbles, yes. But fights, no.

Chennai 1999 : India chase 271 for what would be one of the greatest victories of all time. Top order collapses. Dravid gets possibly the best delivery he'd face in his career. Ganguly gets out to what is described in gully cricket parlance as 'one pitch catch' (or was it two). Nayan joins Sachin. Mind goes back to Nayan's counter punching innings at Sharjah which almost everyone else seem to have forgotten. Hope surfaces. Sachin cuts and sweeps and sweeps. The author of this piece gets ready to celebrate with the other 40000 at the stadium. Sachin goes for his first ungainly swipe, Akram pouches the catch. India lose.


Once in a while comes this player whom everyone wants to own. Someone who you feel so privileged to watch and you are so in love with that you would seldom want to get into arguments about that player for the fear of hearing anything negative about him. Our generation possibly got insanely lucky in that regard : Pete Sampras, Roger Federer, Tiger Woods, Micheal Jordan, Micheal Schumacher and our very own Sachin Tendulkar. Of the lot, Sachin is perhaps the least global and the most endearing of the lot. For 20 long years, he has enthralled a nation, gave them a reason to celebrate, an object to deify and he has done so without as much as a whiff of celebrity like behaviour. When I was a kid, somewhere I heard this silly rule that if an individual lives on the same rented space for more than 12 years, he has ownership rights to the space. If that be the case, Sachin possibly owns a billion minds and hearts by now.

In some senses Sachin is more than a genius, he is like a genie to all of us. You could almost hear him whis(h)per 'Make a wish now and I'll make your wish come true'. There have been failures, yes, but then, if the Himalayas were just a continuous stretch of land at an altitude of 8000 metres, it'll cease to be the colossal mountain range it is and became just a tall plateau. For long periods of time Sachin has produced the runs with his team in ruins. Harsha Bhogle calls him the 10 for 2 man. The innings at Cape Town in 1997 when in the matter of 2 sessions, Sachin along with Azhar made Donald & Co look like club bowlers remains fresh in the mind. That it took a blinder of a catch (Adam Bacher) to put an end to that innings is an indication of how impenetrable Sachin can be on his best days.

For possibly the greatest batsman of all time, some of the most enduring images come from his bowling feats. His dismissal of Moin Khan late on the third day at Multan to ensure that India finished that day firmly on top would do even Shane Warne proud. Perhaps his first big moment in India is his last over heroics in the Hero cup semifinal. Hidden in the many heroics of the Adelaide test (referred to as Dravid's test) is a 2 wicket burst by Sachin to ensure that a fighting stand between Waugh and Martyn was cut short. This is perhaps the story of the man. There may have been victories where he would not have contributed with the bat, but hidden somewhere in the subtext would be that critical wicket, a crucial catch, a contribution which would have turned the tide in India's favour.

Comparisons will be drawn with Lara and Ponting. About their ability to close out matches or their ability to demolish the opposition in a manner unlike Sachin. But those critiques are for later. This is moment to cherish what Sachin has given to the millions of cricket connoisseurs across the globe. Millions are not numbers easily associated with people, but then so not are 30,000 international runs.

P.S : (PJ warning) The inspiration for the title comes from a mix of two other title contenders : An Ode to Sachin and Odu Sachin Odu.

Shastri-gal

(Four word : Very high PJ levels.)

Gotcha, if you thought this was about the secret liaisons of a famed commentator made much more famous here. Gotcha again, if you thought this was about the escapades of a not so famous and not made famous anywhere yet, gentleman whose web avatar exists here. Besides, he is the Shastry with the y. (Shastry, hoping a return favor for this plug).

This in fact is on a very sensitive topic which might start of a centuries long debate. This hopes to identify the reasons for a peculiarity prevalent amongst the followers or rather the priests of the two sects of Hinduism, Shaivism and Vaishnavism. Whilst there beliefs and practices are largely similar there is the small matter of appearance which has bothered me over the past few months. Why is it that the Iyengar(Vaishnavite) priests are so much more hefty and fatter than their Iyer(Shaivite) peers?

This , ladies and gentlemen , is a question which has resulted in much existential angst for me. Even Dasavatharam the movie presents a similar picture. Rangaraja Nambi is shown to be a strong priest who thrashes the meek Shaivites. Now, we all know how well researched Kamal's movies are and therefore I will take it that even at that age and time, the Iyengars were better built than Iyers, at least in the matter of priests.

I thought about it for a long time and then it struck me.

Reason number one (Raison d'etre) :

The butter. Poor Betty who bought bitter butter and then had to go in search of better butter. Had she been aware of Iyengar temples, her search would have ended right at one of those. With the ownership rights of Krishna and Hanuman, the two apparently greatest butter specialists in mythology, there is no shortage of butter at there temples. And to top it off, since Hanuman is supposed to be really huge and it is a custom to apply the butter on the whole idol, one can imagine the quantity of butter that goes into this process. And quite obviously, as every good human being knows, one should not waste any consumable item. Thus forced to act as good samaritans, my assumption is that the priests rather unwillingly partake the butter later, much to the chagrin of the many thousand devotees who possibly believe that it is the Lord himself who uses the butter up for his early morning toast.

Reason number two :

Money. Look at the Shaivite conundrum. They have to worship the God of Death and Destruction, while the Vaishnavites are to worship the God who is responsible for happy existence on earth. Now it is only natural that all Shaivites therefore are slightly apprehensive about praying excessively and appealing more than necessary through generous grants to the temples of the sect. The last thing they'd want is for Shiva to discover a major affinity for them and send his brother in arm , Yama riding on his buffalo , to their house. (As a slight distraction, one wonders if its time to change the buffalo to a bullet. Imagine Yama riding this bullet to force them to bite this bullet).

Reason number three : (Raison d'ethree)

Money. This one is because of an amazing myth which some mega-intelligent Vaishnavite had the brains to create. Lord Venkatesha who resides peacefully in his abode at Tirupathi, owes a hell a lot of cash to the money man of Indian mythology, Kuberan. Now as dutiful devotees, it is only too obvious that the best way to please the lord would be to help him repay the loan. Now, this is where the mega-intelligence grows to giga-intelligence. The man who started the story did not tell the world what the exact loan amount was. This meant that till the time Lord Venkatesha appears to the world and delivers a thank you speech for saving him from bankruptcy a la the US government and Goldman Sachs, the (poor) people will have to keep filling up his coffers.

Now with so much money, the most obvious thing to do would be to ensure that all the hungry devotees are well fed. In the honorable intention that no devotee's hunger should be left unsatiated, the amount of food cooked will far exceed the amount of food consumed by them. And again as good samaritans, the priests ... ( you know the story).

These people are my initial findings. I shall over the course of time try and dig deeper into this great mystery. Any additions from your side are welcome.

P.S In the extreme event that any individual reading this feels offended by my comments, I would like to state that the post was intended to be humorous and not offensive. For the rest of you who are offended by the lack of humor, I deeply and sincerely apologize. Ya right!