I was surfing through the pile of pics I accumulated during my Brazil trip and realize that there are quite a few gems in there. There is of course the Rio trip which I haven’t documented for reasons unknown (Did I tell you I am lazy?). And all the incredible graffiti. That was one of the things I remember the most. Shame I did not carry my camera around everywhere!! But here’s a small compilation from what I got.
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When I first created this blog (out of sheer boredom) I knew one thing for certain. That I will someday write a glowing tribute to the “Special One”. Jose Mourinho may have taken on that title with aplomb in the world of football (or has he?) but for the millions of Indians around the world there is only one who can be anointed King. I can wait for Sachin Ramesh Tendulkar to announce his imminent retirement but then this post would become an “also ran”. (I am secretly worried about unfair comparisons (if any) between my silly post and the eloquent prose of the omnipresent Bengali sports writer (and South Indian statistician) who surely will be working overtime then!). Besides can I even write when I am holding back my tears? A lot of what is written below can be / and surely will be dismissed as irrational exuberance of a crazy fan but the truth is a lot of objective analysis (and imagination may I argue) has gone into what I am about the say.
To understand the almost God like worship of a mere mortal sportsman you need to understand the larger canvas that he operates in. And no it’s not the green patch of land that you see on TV. It’s the enigma called India. To understand Sachin you need to understand India! And what can I tell you about India that you don’t already know. Nothing. But something dawned on me that is relevant to explain the preposterous that I am about to utter.
Should we look at India as a country? Or is it a continent masquerading as a country? As must be obvious by now I hold the not so obvious view. A country that is so diverse culturally, linguistically, geographically or hell even genetically that it’s a miracle it even came about in the first place. (I am not about to thank East India company for putting it together because the conception of the “idea” of India was indigenous.) If Europe is a continent how do we not qualify? We have more official languages (not dialects…actual separate languages with separate scripts) than the whole of Europe put together. The Kashmiri and the Tamil are so different (culturally & physically) that they make the Germans and the English look like twins. The Assamese farmer and the Rajasthani trader have zilch in common just like the Spaniards and the Poles. The food from Cochin is as different from the fare that you get in Delhi as Athens and Milan! I can go on but you get the idea. I think. We have magnificently pulled together thus far despite separatist issues which I don’t like to ignore personally but will put aside for the sake of this post. In this canvas of a billion plus diversity operates our superhero.
Only four other Indians (in my humble opinion) have had a greater influence on the collective consciousness of the Indian mind. Buddha, Ashok, Akbar and Gandhi. The first, who at his prime united vast swathes of this land by his simplistic yet powerful concepts on living. The next two, rulers who made first attempts at creating a country and establish rules that contributed significantly to what we know today as our constitution. And the last of course the Mahatma who despite skepticism (which shocking and fashionably has carried on till this day) saw us through the last hurdle and did it in some style. But how can I dare forget countless other greats (scholars, politicians, freedom fighters, artists included) of centuries, decades and generations ago and pick a cricketer to come bat at number 5 in my fantasy list of great Indians? One let’s admit it’s an endless debate. Two a lot of the others have had great influence over their chosen fields or specific regions but haven’t occupied the same mind space (in a favorable sense of the word of course) across India as the ones I have listed above. Three we need and deserve a post independence icon. And nobody let’s face it has collectively made us as proud as this Mumbaikar over the last 60 years. And as many number of times. Unlike even 20 years ago where large parts of the country hadn’t fallen to the spell of cricket (and overdose of information) now, thanks to television, it would be impossible for anyone in South Asia (and the rest of the cricketing world) to not have heard the name TENDULKAR. A vast majority will willingly like to be categorized as devotees. Yours truly included. Amen.
P.S: I have in the past jokingly (maybe even seriously) told some of my western colleagues who show interest in travelling to India “If you are ever in trouble say ‘Cricket is my religion, Sachin is my god’. And then say ‘Help’. You will do just fine”.
I have been travelling on work for a few years now, usually on short term assignments with fellow colleagues from India! And as is typical for Indian work colleagues we don’t really bond well (or pretend at least) unless we have had our share of ‘arguments’. I have had numerous ones on topics ranging from presidential campaigns to sports teams, from the state of the economy to the more serious issues of our times like who’s hotter between Scarlet Johansson and Megan Fox? Scarlett of course! But no other topic of argument has come up as often as the great debate on Vegetarian vs. Non Vegetarian food.
Now this is a topic of discussion that has been fought out passionately across the length and breadth of our county (and others considering we pretty much inhabit every part of the world now!) and for good reason. No other country that I know of has such a high percentage of vegetarians. A fairly reliable (or contentious?) free online encyclopedia (got it yet?) tells me that as much as 31% of Indians are vegetarians!! No they don’t eat ANY meat, poultry, fish, seafood or in most cases even eggs. Onions and garlic is also taboo among the Jains who number as much as 4.2 million followers. It’s only natural that when you travel abroad (for the record I have absolutely no problems) where a spicy vegan meal is “challenging” to find, to say the least, you end up hearing all kinds of arguments for vegetarianism. (Partly out of frustration I suspect J). Arguments range from vegetarianism being the healthier choice to cruelty to animals. But the one argument that is hard to “bite” is “My Choice”.
Is it really your free choice or is it based on conditioning? Just like mine may I add before you jump to the conclusion that I have an agenda! The “free choice” argument doesn’t really fly. The reason I don’t eat lizards today is because I have grown up in a culture which finds eating lizards “gross” and distasteful!! If I were born and brought up in some part of China I might quite relish the thought of “sundried spicy lizard ” or whatever its equivalent is!! Same rule applies to vast majority of Indian vegetarians. The only reason they don’t eat meat or fish is because it’s not acceptable in their socio-religious environment. They find chicken, lamb, beef or even the delightfully tasty pomfrets just as “gross” as I find eating lizards. In the perfect world we would have a fully understanding (in this scenario that would be ‘taste’ I guess) of all our choices and our choices would not be as influenced as it is today by where and which families we are born into! But obviously it doesn’t work that way. Unless you are the guy from Man vs. Food, our choices for the most parts have been made before we were born and we just find rationalizations to justify those choices. With a deeper understanding of factors that drive my choices (or the lack of it) I am ready to experiment. Frog Legs? Sure. Lizards? Ehh…not sure if it’s healthy J
Big sporting events are when bloggers come alive. I must say I had plans to blog about my ‘perspective’ on Vuvuzelas, Larissa and some football this past World Cup but as I mentioned in my previous post, work took an unlikely precedent over following sports!!! And YES I plan to start my next few posts complaining about the lack of work life balance only coz this blog is still anonymous and its highly unlikely that my boss will stumble upon this!! J Anyway, the good part about work right now is travel. And the opportunity to experience something special if you keep you eyes and ears open. Here I was in the middle of 100000 colorful Dutch fans in Amsterdam watching the World Cup finals. The overwhelming smell of weed. The pile of crushed beer cans. And hope.
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So I did (could) not execute 1/12th of my New Year resolution on time. “A post a month” resolution. I am tempted to seek solace in my genuine (and almost original) excuse of insane timelines at work but I am one for looking forward. So here it is. A new post!
Delhi’s new airport terminal (T3) has been described as “swanky” and “glitzy” and no doubt is a hugh improvement over the previous versions. Various reports I have “googled” tell me of the numerous immigration points, check-in counters, aerobridges, travelators, lounges, shower rooms, restaurants, bars, cafes and everything else that you should expect from a world class airport. First impressions matter. And going by the number of Japanese tourists (I take the liberty of assumption) with cameras in front of the magnificent and tastefully done traditional Indian hand gesture (Mudras) sculptures, so far so good.
But peculiarly first impressions were not what I was thinking about as I walked the long walk from the arrival gate to the immigration check point. (Pretty sure every flight right now is being asked to taxi in at the last possible gate so that the arriving passengers get a full “taste” of our national pride.) T3 possibly is the most carpeted airport terminal in the world. And not just any carpet. Thick carpet that will suffice for a mattress when your flight’s delayed or give you enough practice on how to walk on a water bed when you are standing up!!! As my initial bewilderment of looking at this vast expanse of carpeted area wore off, I wondered how on earth are we gonna keep this bloody thing clean. Pardon my skepticism but will we in three years have the world’s largest dirty carpet??? Very very likely. I saw the odd janitor at work but something tells me I’ll find it hard to find a dustbin when I need it, a couple of years from now. We don’t have to build the biggest or the swankiest airport in the world to create a positive first impression. We just need to build a practical airport with standard amenities that we can keep clean with minimum of supervision. Looking forward apparently is not a very common trait!!
I reached 15 minutes before the game but it was probably 15 minutes too late. Not just were the bar stools (my favorite vantage point) gone but every single table was occupied. The bartender thankfully remembered me from the previous week and offered to find me a place.
“Anywhere” I said in desperation as I watched the two teams walk out.
The two gentlemen were kind enough to let me join them at their table and I tried to be as non interfering as possible by turning my back on them and squeezing myself out of their view. Tonight was going to be about football and my eyes were glued to the screen. The ears though were a different story.
“Inter” said the Italian behind me.
“I don’t think so” said the Englishman next to him. “Bayern are playing the more attacking football. They are definitely going to score. Inter just holds back and it’s not going to work”
“This Inter team does not play the classical Italian game” retorted the Italian. “They attack too. Counter attack! They beat Barcelona 3 – 1 in the first leg. They beat Chelsea 3 – 1 in aggregate”
“Fair point Mr. Italy” I thought but I ain’t interfering. Tonight was going to be about football.
I heard faint grumbling every time there was a hard “challenge” during the course of the first half and then after watching a delightful run down the wings by Robben the Englishman could not hold himself back around the 54th minute.
“Who is playing the better football? Who is playing the beautiful football??”
The reply was curt. “1-0 Inter?? What are you talking about?”
I held my chuckle at the Italian’s reply but I ain’t interfering. No I ain’t. Tonight was going to be about football.
“No but that’s not beautiful football…”. More grumbling.
At the end of the game (and two large pints) I couldn’t help but …interfere. I turned around, mumbled something about it being a good game and as soon as I drew a smile from the Englishman I innocuously asked “Are you by any chance from London and an Arsenal supporter??”
A pause and a reluctant grin later “Yes!! That is very perceptive. How did you know??”
