Thank God (yea, the one i dont believe in much) for the mavericks. The non conformists.
This was the thought that ran through my mind as i sat gulpin away mug after mug of the Kingfisher on a Friday nite after a tiring week in office. With my project mate and chief partner in crime, AsP. Must be the only time a PA in infy had to promise a beer to his resource to get something done! ;)
I like something about the ones who retain their recklessness for life even after supposedly growing up. Which is tough to find in the place and industry i am in. Where people try to become avuncular even before their into their mid twenties. Can't stand them. The so called 'respectable' order they try to bring into everything in life. The home. The demure wife. The two kids. The housing loan. Gimme a friggin' break.
Coming back to this particular nite, as the beer poured in, we started enunciating on the ladies we loved and lost, the intimate adventures with them, the self obsession we have for ourselves (which probably finally explained to me why i love bein pampered by whichever girl i am with at the time), and the managers who have tried to make life hell. Finally, as my last bus was about to leave, AsP decided it was not enough. With the promise of a midnight drunk drive on his trusted Activa, we stayed back to down a few more. In the meanwhile, called AA back from where he was halfway to his home, and AA bein the sweet guy he is, came back to watch us indulge ourselves and listened patiently to whatever we spewed on the nite.
Finally, after a couple of cigarettes more, we decided it was time to take the trip to Sus Rd. Staggeringly, we got onto the Activa and let loose. I would never promote the idea of drunk driving, but somehow on the nite, it was great. Poor AsP did not realise how much out of his way he would have to go to let me off home, but go he did. And took the lonely trip back to his joint. Thanks to the hangover next morning, I could not even wake up for my weekend tennis session with Ab, despite his six missed calls and life threatening SMS'.
Like i said, Thank God for the mavericks. The world won't go round right without 'em.
Sunday, May 17, 2009
Wednesday, May 13, 2009
To be a fan...
These days, with the second season of the IPL in full flow, I was thinking back to the days when, for the first time, i truly felt what it was like to be a fan. A fan of a team of individuals you may not have any connect with, yet you egg on like they were somehow related to your life.
The first major sporting event i really followed was the 1996 Cricket World Cup, but, though i felt pretty bad when India went out to Sri Lanka in that eventful semi final, the actual passion of following a team came during the 1998 Football World Cup, France '98.
The Dutch football team is one I've always had a strange connect with. Maybe I was initially drawn to them because of the silky skills of the mercurial Dennis Bergkamp, the non flying Dutchman (he was well known for his fear of planes, and never really travelled by them.). Maybe it was the Orange. I dunno. But, as France '98 started picking up steam, with the pre quarters, i started paying more attention to the others. The speedy and inventive midfielders like Overmars, Seedorf and Edgar Davids (who, for me, was the midfielder of the tournament). The wonderfully talented De Boer twins, Frank and Ronald, and the others.. Kluivert, Zenden, Jonk... all backed up by that excellent keeper, Van Der Saar.
It started of with that pre quarterfinal against the Yugoslavs... They admittedly did have some good fortune, with that accomplished striker, Predrag Mijatovic, missing a penalty for the Yugoslavs. Then, in the 92nd minute, with everyone looking towards penalties, Davids unleashes a shot from the edge of the box... speculative... but it went in and Holland were through to the quarters, where they would face a fancied Argentine side, who themselves had come through a harrowing match against the English on penalties.
This one was set up beautifully towards the end for a photo finish. With the scores level on 1-1, in the 89th minute, a long ball was hopefully presented in the Argentine half... and who would be there to receive it, but... Dennis Bergkamp. This was his moment. You could see it coming. With all the finesse and precision that has marked some of his best goals, he unleashed what was probably the goal of the tournament, into the roof of the Argentine net. The Dutch were through. Bergkamp had lived up to his billing. By now my excitement had reached fever pitch.
The Dutch were to face the mighty Brazilians in the semi final. Though i had an inkling that the Dutch had their best moment in the tournament already, i was still hopeful. That they would make their ancestors of Total Football, who had failed to win football's top honour, proud.
The match started of innocuously. The first half went scoreless. Then, in the early minutes of the second half, Ronaldo gets in. 1-0 to Brazil. Holland kept pushing. In the 87th minute, a cross comes in from the right, and Kluivert, rises above the Brazilian defense to powerfully head in the equaliser. The Dutch had scored at the death again. In the ensuing extra time, both teams came close to breaking the deadlock, but it finally had to be penalties.
Cocu missed and Ronald De Boer missed, and the Oranje dream was over. Brazil was through to the final. After that, i really didn't care about the 3rd place match with Croatia. Though Zenden provided another glimpse of why the Dutch brand of football is so beloved, with a beautifully taken goal. Croatia ended up winning that 3rd place. But as far as i was concerned, my beloved Oranje had lost earlier.
I went out to my balcony, and raised my fist to the humid middle eastern air. AAgh.... So this was how it felt like to be a fan.
The first major sporting event i really followed was the 1996 Cricket World Cup, but, though i felt pretty bad when India went out to Sri Lanka in that eventful semi final, the actual passion of following a team came during the 1998 Football World Cup, France '98.
The Dutch football team is one I've always had a strange connect with. Maybe I was initially drawn to them because of the silky skills of the mercurial Dennis Bergkamp, the non flying Dutchman (he was well known for his fear of planes, and never really travelled by them.). Maybe it was the Orange. I dunno. But, as France '98 started picking up steam, with the pre quarters, i started paying more attention to the others. The speedy and inventive midfielders like Overmars, Seedorf and Edgar Davids (who, for me, was the midfielder of the tournament). The wonderfully talented De Boer twins, Frank and Ronald, and the others.. Kluivert, Zenden, Jonk... all backed up by that excellent keeper, Van Der Saar.
It started of with that pre quarterfinal against the Yugoslavs... They admittedly did have some good fortune, with that accomplished striker, Predrag Mijatovic, missing a penalty for the Yugoslavs. Then, in the 92nd minute, with everyone looking towards penalties, Davids unleashes a shot from the edge of the box... speculative... but it went in and Holland were through to the quarters, where they would face a fancied Argentine side, who themselves had come through a harrowing match against the English on penalties.
This one was set up beautifully towards the end for a photo finish. With the scores level on 1-1, in the 89th minute, a long ball was hopefully presented in the Argentine half... and who would be there to receive it, but... Dennis Bergkamp. This was his moment. You could see it coming. With all the finesse and precision that has marked some of his best goals, he unleashed what was probably the goal of the tournament, into the roof of the Argentine net. The Dutch were through. Bergkamp had lived up to his billing. By now my excitement had reached fever pitch.
The Dutch were to face the mighty Brazilians in the semi final. Though i had an inkling that the Dutch had their best moment in the tournament already, i was still hopeful. That they would make their ancestors of Total Football, who had failed to win football's top honour, proud.
The match started of innocuously. The first half went scoreless. Then, in the early minutes of the second half, Ronaldo gets in. 1-0 to Brazil. Holland kept pushing. In the 87th minute, a cross comes in from the right, and Kluivert, rises above the Brazilian defense to powerfully head in the equaliser. The Dutch had scored at the death again. In the ensuing extra time, both teams came close to breaking the deadlock, but it finally had to be penalties.
Cocu missed and Ronald De Boer missed, and the Oranje dream was over. Brazil was through to the final. After that, i really didn't care about the 3rd place match with Croatia. Though Zenden provided another glimpse of why the Dutch brand of football is so beloved, with a beautifully taken goal. Croatia ended up winning that 3rd place. But as far as i was concerned, my beloved Oranje had lost earlier.
I went out to my balcony, and raised my fist to the humid middle eastern air. AAgh.... So this was how it felt like to be a fan.
Tuesday, May 12, 2009
A Day in Baroda
Me 'n SiK finally made it for Ta's marriage. A trip which had started off as a plan for 4 days, including sight seeing around Gujarat, finally whittled down to a single day's rush to catch the marriage and reception and rush back to attend work on Monday. A slew of factors, including my ten day break and SiK's engagement contributed to us only being able to spend a day for this. But we had promised to ourselves we would attend her marriage whatever happens, and we did, finally.
I have to say... Despite my reservations about Modi's Gujarat, i was impressed with what i saw. Baroda (or Vadodara) was a clean, developed and quite modern city. I wish more Indian cities took off after the model i saw there. Each part of the city seemed to have been carefully planned and laid out and the buildings were all neat and modern. Me 'n SiK definitely wished we could have had a couple of days more there.
As for the bride herself, Ta was probably the most excited and bubbly bride i have seen till now. She had an easy vibrancy and positivity which rubbed off on us pretty easily. It has only been a few months since we came in touch with her, but it already seems like we've known her for long. The days in Infy came back to me when we three did a lot of things together. My favourite of the lot: When we formed the team of three for the PE Sports Day Table Tennis Tournament. Despite the fact that all three of us hadn't played in quite a long while, we reached the second round in all sections (the double, and the singles for each of us).
SiK is also getting hitched by the end of the year. Here's to the good memories. And to the everlasting buddies, without whom life would have been such a drag.
I have to say... Despite my reservations about Modi's Gujarat, i was impressed with what i saw. Baroda (or Vadodara) was a clean, developed and quite modern city. I wish more Indian cities took off after the model i saw there. Each part of the city seemed to have been carefully planned and laid out and the buildings were all neat and modern. Me 'n SiK definitely wished we could have had a couple of days more there.
As for the bride herself, Ta was probably the most excited and bubbly bride i have seen till now. She had an easy vibrancy and positivity which rubbed off on us pretty easily. It has only been a few months since we came in touch with her, but it already seems like we've known her for long. The days in Infy came back to me when we three did a lot of things together. My favourite of the lot: When we formed the team of three for the PE Sports Day Table Tennis Tournament. Despite the fact that all three of us hadn't played in quite a long while, we reached the second round in all sections (the double, and the singles for each of us).
SiK is also getting hitched by the end of the year. Here's to the good memories. And to the everlasting buddies, without whom life would have been such a drag.
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