In the name of God, go!

Is it the beginning of the end we are witnessing? Even when Judas betrayed Christ for a few pieces of silver there was hope left behind. Hope for a better humanity for a better world where there would be light one day… But does this tainted trio, who betrayed a billion for some quick money, leave any ray of light behind? It was more often than not that many watching cricket in India in the new millennium said the matches were fixed. Whenever India beat a tough opponent some cried ‘it is fixed’! As if fixing matches was easier than playing them.

Slowly though we overcame that. We learnt to believe in what we wanted to believe- that we were good, we were better and we were strong. As a generation growing up in the early 2000s we dared to take the world in its stride and it was not just the BCCI’s enviable financial might that gave an ordinary Indian his strength, but the stalwarts respected worldwide who made up that team. Sachin Tendulkar, Rahul Dravid, VVS Laxman, Anil Kumble, Javagal Srinath and the leader of the pack Sourav Ganguly- these were the people who gave us hope. As a generation that never had any colonial baggage whatsoever, we really loved to play cricket our way because they showed us the way. We were immensely proud of what we had as seldom did we believe in any yardstick, in any Arnoldian touchstone. The adage that the white is always right was false for us because we loved to grow up that way and cricket was one of those forces in an emerging India which could render the nation shining. Didn’t we say here is a sport that unites us besides a border tension with Pakistan? Didn’t sociologists infer how small-town cricket changed the entire economic cartography of India? And look where we are today!

Shanthakumaran Sreesanth! Wasn’t this the man who took that famous catch that won us the T20 World Cup? I cried, didn’t sleep that entire night. He was one of my heroes immediately. I still remember how he gave away 21 runs in the first over he had bowled only to follow it up with a maiden next. It all seems so false today. Sreesanth you have betrayed us and also our beautiful game. You have given once again teeth to those sitting beyond the seas who would now nibble at us at will. You have done a disservice to India, to us Asians who play and love cricket.

In my IPL assignments so far, I have spent more time in the galleries adjoining the media box. I have seen waves of young people, kids barely 10 years old chanting wildly. Some of them might have been watching their first cricket match too. How would they feel today? The kid who went to watch Sreesanth would now remember the match not as his first but as being fixed! Will he then trust in the game? Will he then believe that what he saw was cricket and not anything else? After 2000 it took many men to build up that trust, the trust between the fan and the game. Today we are standing at that same unwelcome crossroads and who do we look up to then? Luckily for us, however, Sreesanth did not fix in India colours and that’s the faint ray of hope he is leaving behind.

Dear Sreesanths of Indian cricket if any now, “You’ve sat too long for any good you’ve been doing lately. Depart, I say; and let’s have done with you. In the name of God, go!”

Please rally ON the court, not in it

This Monday the honourable High Court of Bombay called Pullela Gopichand running an academy in Hyderabad unethical. In a pronouncement to a petition filed by badminton player Prajakta Sawant, the court said, “Ethically, coach who also heads the selection panel should not run a private academy. He may be a good coach. We are not saying otherwise. But in the interest of justice and fairness, a national coach, also part of the selection panel, should not run a private camp.”

Technically speaking there is a point, and Jwala Gutta, who has taken a sabbatical from badminton and now wants to pursue a career in South cinema, sprang up readily to say there is a‘conflict of interest’. But how much logic do these arguments have? Let’s start from where it all begun.

Sawant, the doubles champion of the 2010 and 2011 national badminton events has alleged that Gopichand is‘mentally harassing’ her and is out to ruin her career because the coach refused to change her doubles partner and also questioned her commitment to the game because she was frequently flying back home to Maharashtra- reasons which in normal terms cannot really be termed ‘mentally harassing’. Yet Sawant found allies in this battle on a different court and not surprisingly Jwala, who has always seen red in the deserved popularity and stardom of Saina Nehwal, has joined the bandwagon.

But the question is not about who says what. Gopi has maintained his silence that he should not have had. As a man he has never been boastful, whether about his success or those of his wards. However, when the court questions the very dignity of a man, who built the academy by mortgaging his own house, it comes as a shock to sports buffs, and as the charge of making money goes, the academy till the 2010 Commonwealth Games was running from pillar to post to find sponsors. Yet for a second let us assume that Gopi is making profit out of Government land, the academy built on a five-acre land at Gachibowli was offered by the Andhra Pradesh Government, that he is biased, partial in his selection and running a ‘one-man show’. But does he dictate rankings and ratings too? Or is it a conveniently manipulated coincidence that players like Saina Nehwal, PV Sindhu, P Kashyap, Ashwini Ponnappa and even Jwala train or trained at his academy? True some started their career elsewhere but they attained international success and popularity under the tutelage of Gopichand. The jury is out to be decided.

Now Sawant has every other choice to practise elsewhere, but her persistence to work under Gopi, even in the guise of a national camp, only reiterates the latter’s worth. Sadly though, she has now become cannon fodder for the ‘anti-lobby’ which till now has done nothing of note for Indian badminton. Websites running ‘comment wars’ too see the interested public questioning Gopi but failing, as usual, to provide any alternative. But this entire row, this washing dirty linen in public, this open rift is going to hurt whatever prospects and popularity badminton in India had built post Gopi’s All England win because badminton is not cricket where controversies, even those involving match fixing, can be shoved away.

Sadly, this Gopichand-Sawant saga once again highlights the immature managerial skills of our sports administrators, under whose ‘supervision’ trivial dissent is allowed to snowball into a war of personal propaganda where every smash hit is caught only in the net. Time we play it fair on the court and not in it.

Jab Tak Hai Khan?

I know that this is late but better late than never.

This is no review but just another way of seeing the film. Not that JTHJ is a thought-provoking masterpiece that one has to post something. I have seen many of my friends dismissing the film in one line on Facebook. One of them said its better you take aspirin rather than popcorn to the cinema hall, one wanted to be blessed with retrograde amnesia and erase out the whole span of the movie - witty one-liners indeed and each one to his own. Nonetheless, for me, it becomes important to write about a film that is 12-day old at the box office, is a member of the 100-crore club and also the highest earners in the US.

JTHJ, like all Yash Raj films, has had a solid promotional campaign and the presence of Shah Rukh Khan and a Diwali release already assured that the film would be a grand money spinner. The film per se has nothing substantial in it. The plot is loose and predictable and an intelligent viewer would not miss much if taking a break for five to ten minutes. Direction has never been the forte of mainstream Hindi cinema and it is better not to talk about logic as it is simply not there. There are too many loopholes which ‘bashers’ have rather elegantly pointed out. Yash Chopra till his last movie continues to portray women in a mould which a 21^st century girl should disapprove. But who expects anything Avant-garde from the late Chopra either?

Bollywood has always depended on dialogue and (melo)drama and JTHJ does no different. Like any film from the YRF stable, JTHJ offers the audience its meaty share of well-scripted sequences and there is hardly anything that is unpredictable- the twists are in tandem with what one finds in routine YRF films and certain sequences remind you of Chopra’s earlier films featuring Shah Rukh Khan- the main man.

Indeed the film’s box office success has to do a lot with SRK. It is needless to say that he stands out in the film, even though Anushka is also money’s worth when at her chirpy best. In my opinion SRK comes close to that eternal romantic hero Raj yet fails to deliver that magic. The goodies that came after DDLJ (from YRF and Dharma Productions) have been stereotype milestones for SRK but JTHJ does not do justice to that reputation. In fact, SRK’s attempt to live up to that image is very obvious. In that tube station when he says to Katrina, who as usual serves her purpose as long as she keeps quiet, ‘tum mujhe nahi mari’, it is a direct throwback to the fellow 17 years back who swept a nation with his dimpled smile. But alas, the same does not work here.

Nonetheless, the film is a massive hit and that has to do with the stardom of our man. SRK, perhaps, is very much similar to David Beckham. Even though his football is slowing down, Brand David is attracting multi-million pound offers from every corner of the world, that’s the craze he generates. Similarly, even if SRK is losing that cupid touch of romance, his fan following refuses to die. The business JTHJ is doing shows how much of a sway Brand Shah Rukh still holds in the industry and if this be true, then JTHJ is an out and out SRK fan’s movie. It is for those who are blinded by admiration for the man, just want to see SRK on screen, support KKR because it’s SRK’s team, and would even go to the extent of buying every product their hero endorses. Apart from that, JTHJ offers hardly anything. Yes if you talk about the cinematography then it offers the stock YRF European vista, here London, and the foray into Kashmir and Ladakh are well-shot, but nothing special because good cinematography reminds me of Sholay and Kabul Express.

A very weak link for JTHJ is the music. YRF has been successful in presenting very good musicals but unfortunately JTHJ is a blot in AR Rahman’s CV. Fans of the Oscar-winning musician too have been very critical of the soundtrack and here is a major difference between fan bases of AR and SRK. While those of the former readily point out the rather cavalier work of Rahman, those of the latter are stauncher in defending the man’s rather pedestrian display. (My personal interactions with people, some on FB and some face to face make me say so.) Grow up! SRK has done a lot better!

Yet the film is a big hit! It has made good business and in the end in Bollywood that is what counts. If you are a person who loves Satyajit Ray, Kurosowa, Polanski, De Sica, and Hitchcock and so on then JTHJ is not for you and the reactions you would give could be in one line. But if you are in the SRK club, then the film is your money’s worth, definitely you would be happy to have contributed in the 100-crore, and what would be a better way to see you smiling than naming it Jab Tak Hai Khan!

Grandly un-Indian

India on wheels is getting faster and hotter and it’s action time yet again! A year has zoomed past in no time and though India continues to be the same sore hotbed of swindles and scandals to the media’s delight, here we are with the tracks well laid, grid gals lined up and custom engines fully oiled and roaring. Yes, this is the un-Indian GP where speed meets style, guts get at the gearboxes and reckless rich of a nation swelling with a weekend’s pride catch up for garden picnic, serious business and Formula 1 racing. So if you’re a race maniac, worship speed, crave for and then love to forget unfamiliar but beautiful company, bright urban sunshine and were rich enough to buy those flashy race tickets then Buddh International Circuit is the place you must be October 28 because the Indian GP is back.

On racing counts, this time there is better competition in the leaderboards - unlike last year when it was a Sebastian Vettel show the season throughout, a dominant run that decided the individual and team championships even before the Indian GP started! Vettel has his zip back and leads Fernando Alonso by six points in defence of his world crown and the neck-to-neck race between the two prospective 2014 teammates for Ferrari would attract many experts.

Generally the battle between the sixth and seventh teams in the constructors’ list interest none save the units involved, but with Sahara Force India principal Vijay Mallya, and also his warhorses, being vociferous about overtaking Sauber, who incidentally have the Dehra Dun-born Monisha Kaltenborn at the helm now, for the sixth position and a well-paid media promoting the whole issue, the fight will not go unnoticed. Add to it the recent performances of Nico Hulkenberg, and some time back of Paul di Resta, then Force India would have more than just one reason to hit the podium at the ‘ideal home race’.

The race would also suit the VJM05. As Hulkenberg, who most probably would have his good times with Sauber next year, put it: “The races coming up (read races in India, Abu Dhabi, Austin and Sao Paulo) should suit us quite well, especially somewhere like Abu Dhabi with long straights and slow corners. Those are the sort of corners where our car has looked quite strong so far.”

The BIC comes with subtle modifications this time, the kerbs have got longer to avoid any shortcut return to the ‘main course’ and hence Felipe Massa can breathe easy (you must remember how he crashed on kerb eight last time and then called for a change). This new ‘sausagy’ look along with greener surroundings –some say one lakh saplings have been planted, only planted- better parking facilities, the Yamuna Expressway being opened, chartered buses and lot more mean a sell out crowd, some grand Indian racing ‘phoren istyle’ and a gala success yet again.

Hence, by the evening of October 28, the all-knowing honest Indian Inc. –the torchbearers of a ‘going to the dogs new India’- would have completed another lap towards making their presence felt and also an octogenarian Bernie Ecclestone richer- maybe he should now pen a will before it’s too late. And whichever way Formula1 in India goes, for the fastest Indian is still slowest in the world, the carnival will come back pretty soon!

Enchanted by chance

I am a journalist by chance, and it’s no surprise, because throughout, the courses my life have been decided more by chance than by choice. And no matter how much I want to avoid it, chance always tricks me by chance! Now it is one of these chanceful occasions of my life that I think is worth penning down.
Earlier this week, an AFC-AIFF team visited our local cricket stadium here. Now as with small towns like Cuttack, our association here was too overwhelmed to welcome their uparwalas. People ran helter-skelter, all were advised not to chew gutkha- and spit- when the big men were around, three big cars were suitably arranged for four people, not to speak of the lunch ordered that would serve at least two football teams. Nonetheless, ‘covering’ their inspection of the Barabati Stadium was an experience of a lifetime.
(See I am a person who is a proud rider an n-th hand two-stroke bike, that at times can fly like a seagull and also sleep like a snail, so for me every special moment has to be a lifetime and if that sounds frivolous so be it.)
Anyway, as with all our associations in India, the media persons were instructed to keep away from the visiting delegation and so did all except one -and by now you must have guessed that the better-than-Tintin-reporter is me! So I, having visited the barber the day before, very pompously joined the party that was inspecting every nook and corner of the stadium. And wow, what a place it is!
I have never seen the insides of a players’ dressing room before, not even of the VVIP and corporate boxes. My seven-month stint in Kolkata with The Statesman just before the 2011 World Cup allowed me to have a peek at the unfinished changing rooms at the Eden Gardens, but a fully functional locker room evoked only one feeling – I wish I were a cricketer man! Letting the delegation go on with its work, I sat on a sofa –leather-finished mind you- and also adjusted my looks standing in front of a huge mirror. My sheer childlike mannerisms embarrassed me, but who knows when the next time comes? At least for a few seconds I rolled in a sofa on which sat some great cricketers!
So thus went on my odyssey and the hangover was still there after I had filed a 500-word thrash. I had such an odd feeling and everything I saw around seemed appealing. Very much like your new crush at school or college where even if the girl says Keats was a Victorian poet you readily question Edward Albert’s sanity. (Now there’s no misogyny involved and I am a great fan of JK Rowling and Emile Bronte.) So very much in that aesthetically blessed state I stepped out of the stadium for refreshments.
Now our Barabati has a peculiar charm, at least I felt that way then. Outside it you have a gathering of vendors who would be selling you indigenously cooked ‘phoren’ dishes. If you are a connoisseur of roadside food, then, it is the place you ought to be. By the banks of the Mahanadi, for the river is a few paces away from the stadium, you can have a very sumptuous evening if you have 20 rupees in your pocket - provided a sandwich, a poached egg and a tea are all you want.
The cool river breeze then calls you and a lonely walk by the solitary banks of the Mahanadi takes you into a reverie. The black shining water, a silent dark sky, those passing clouds and an occasional star leave you in a daze and you wonder and wonder and wonder until the cell phone rings and your boss shouts, “Why didn’t you interview any of the AFC officials? I am sure they were not happy with the ground!”

C’mon man!

So the government and the media have done it again! Once again the skeletons tumbled out of the closet but somewhere in the store that rat had nibbled out the cork leaving the red wine flow unappreciated and hence the whole household, with that nonexistent cat, is running after it.

Congratulations to the giants of the game for taking away all the focus from a nation-wide cross generational endemic, affectionately called corruption, by talking intellectual nonsense about petro prices and FDI in retail. Thank you my enlightened brethren who have made the white world their home, my dear formidable NRI role models, all graduates from posh B-schools whose fees my hardworking and honest father could not afford, for talking absolute ‘sense’ about the degraded Indian economy which indeed is like the famished African refusing to sell oil for food. Thanks for reiterating ‘enough is enough, let’s not talk of corruption and the coal scam because the Indian economy is in dire straits’ so as to debate the new-generation Big Bang that would conjure a new world where some of my privileged, and intellectually blessed, friends would rule.

Now somewhere in all this formidable discussion figuring jargons and graphs and numbers and dollar bills and debt crisis and crude prices and what not, I – the average ‘common man’ who earns say just over 20,000 per month and follows all these matters of grave interest with great enthusiasm with the honest intention to understand, if not participate, the process of running an economy- am getting lost.

Can anyone tell me how would the Indian economy post this Big Bang benefit me? You see I am a ‘common man’ – a term that the Indian political ‘class’ and the media at its service have coined.

If at all words can depict social psychology through binary, then this term – ‘common man’ or ‘aam aadmi’- says a lot about how our politicians think. We are ‘common’, we are the ordinary. Hence, we should have to bear the burden of unemployment, of the ravaged economy, of inflation, of a quarterly rise in petro prices, of crammed rail coaches, of bribery to get a passport processed, of power cuts, of traffic jams while a convoy is passing. Vis-à-vis are the people who don’t come under this definition ‘common man’. I mean the politicians, the business houses that run governments and the well-paid national media.

Let me elaborate. All our netas would say this would harm the common man, that was a betrayal of the common man’s trust, these are what the common man does not want… Have they ever made a statement where they are a part of this common man’s class? They are special. Aren’t they? So MPs get free diesel, ride imported cars, own mines and businesses yet get subsidized delicacies at the parliament canteen, have free homes in the national capital where there is uninterrupted power supply, travel free with no queues for tickets and many more. Please don’t forfeit these. After all we have voted you to and for privilege/s. Take them, but don’t talk such rubbish about the economy because you very well know that the money lost in these innumerable and shameless scams and those dollars deposited overseas could have done turned all your promises and planning to reality.

But why aren’t there any efforts netaji?

Ah c’mon man! Try to understand.

Made for more

He came, he saw, he lost, and then he fought and finally conquered.

This one sentence could well surmise -for those with little, but not dangerous, knowledge of history and modern day tennis- the trials and travails of tennis’ ‘ex-choker’ Andy Murray.

Till that Monday night in New York, Murray resembled a long distance runner who, having led the entire race pulls a hamstring paces ahead of the finish line. The Scot had reached four Grand Slam finals but ended them on a tearful note going back home with the runner-up trophy. So regular had been this episode that the inevitable tag of being a ‘choker’ was becoming an unfair reality. But a marathon final has now altered equations and Murray can start with renewed vigour having won the Olympic gold and his first Major.

Given his credentials Murray is not a one-Slam man. History is replete with surprise winners of one Major- players, who like a stray lightening on an otherwise calm and breezy day, surprise us by their sudden emergence and disappearance. Murray has always been an out an out champion’s material. He is not just a lucky survivor, but the fierce fighter destined to rule. To elaborate Murray is a potential No. 1 and good enough to win a bagful of Grand Slams. This is no mere fancy because the golden era Murray has been part of is bound to see a change of guard very soon.

The larger than life Roger Federer is slowing down his perfection giving way to unforced errors, even though on any given day he is the bookmaker’s favourite. Rafael Nadal’s knee is taking the toll and given his style of play his agility on the baseline can be affected. So out of the big four, Murray and Novak Djokovic could start a new rivalry, one that can even rival that between Federer and Nadal.

In this context, Murray’s win at the Flushing Meadows and breaking the Grand Slam drought were necessary to get the proverbial monkey off his back. But this is no time to relax either and Murray’s unit knows it best. His coach, the legendary Ivan Lendl, has already chalked out plans to take Murray to the top and given the shelf life of a tennis player’s prime the Scot does not have the time which Federer, Nadal or Djokovic have had. By 25, that is Murray’s age, Nadal had won 10 Grand Slams (he won his first in Paris as a 19-year-old), Federer had nine Majors (starting with the Wimbledon as a 22-year-old) and Djokovic, 25 now, has five (he tasted Slam success in Melbourne four years back). So in sheer numbers, since they at times are a measure of greatness, Murray is way behind.

Nonetheless that does not dampen the spirit either and as Britain’s son of the moment looks ahead he can at least do so singing heartily, “Say goodbye to the world you thought you live in.”