Don2: An honest review

Perhaps I should start by telling you the emotions the movie evoked. Imagine a bright, sunny morning at the SCG. You've got the best seat in the house and you sit their, sipping on a tea or beer, watching a Sachin straight-drive. Now think of the equivalent of this pleasure in terms of pain and multiply it by 3 hours. That should pretty much describe how the movie will make you feel. We went in with low expectations but only after the movie did we realise as to why the Police in 11 countries is looking for him. All the citizens want their money back!!!

In the first scene, SRK tries to walk in with a swagger but comes across as a bad case of osteoporosis. It is just funny that the uncrowned king shows up himself to take a consignment. With the recession around and plenty of unemployed youth around, you'd wish he had hired a few to do the dirty job. At least that would save us the agony of watching SRK trying so hard to be the cool Don.

Hoping against hope, we were certain that the movie shall pick from there. It did, as Priyanka Chopra sizzled in her scenes looking every bit hot and delicious. But that seems to be the only upside to the 3 hour long torture. But she also provides lessons in manipulations as she fires orders at her colleague, making him do the clerical work but takes all the credit herself. That poor chap seems to have a thing for her but with his zombie-like expression, it is tough to tell whether he is scared, angry or concerned.

Boman Irani, who seemed to match Don's wits in the 1st movie, is made to look like a complete fool as SRK breaks away from the jail in which he's been rotting for 5 years. I think the jail food hadn't been all that good for his IQ. The scene in which he questions Lara Dutta's ability could be likened to the Opposition's questions to Rahul Gandhi; we keep expecting a witty response but none arrives. To top it all, I present you Kunal Kapoor, a genius hacker who has impregnated a woman without any source of income. I'd like to visit the country where women are ready to hook up with unemployed youth.

When it comes to the action sequences, the less we talk about, the better. Personally, I have never understood the reason behind a car chase. Even you manage to outpace the escapee, you can't force him out of the car because you won the race and banging your car in to his is plain stupid. But that's another story for another day. The point here is, a car chase has never made me yawn, until now. And the underworld seriously needs to get its act together if SRK can beat up those thugs with bare hands, however unconvincingly.

The dialogues and those one-liners are the best part. Looks like there was a holiday discount on defective dialogues and all the characters shopped to their heart's fill. Some of them are so bad that they come around all the way to be good again. In one particular scene Boman Irani asks SRK if he can ask him a question. SRK quips; "no". It used to be funny when I was 10 but the movie unfortunately, is 15 years late.

All this, only until the first half and a bit. I'm sure the latter half too deserves to be written about but fortunately for yours truly, he could not bear the torture and passed out for the better part of it.

PS: As we left the movie hall, plenty of scathing comments were tossed about. My favorite: "Amitabh should file a defamation case against SRK for ruining Don."

To add a li'l spice

T-20 is hurting cricket. Ravi Shastri and Ramiz Raja, more so. We need technically sound batsmen and persistent bowlers for the survival of Test cricket. To regenerate interest in the ball-by-ball detail, we need someone who can call a shot something other than a tracer bullet. I long for the day when a really irritable cricketer comes to fore and makes the game and the equally long post-match proceedings a bit entertaining. I hope the Messiah arrives soon to defeat the devil called Danny Morrison and delivers us from those boring to the point of suicide inducing post match ceremonies. In fact, I have day-dreamt it so many times that I have a script of that hour of reckoning. In my imaginations, this is how it goes:

I: Congratulations. You played a great knock today when your team was reeling at 18/3 in 5 overs.
C: Gee thanks. I didn't know the score when I walked in. Next time, I'll call you up to tell me.

I: So your team was under a lot of pressure when you walked in.
C: To tell you the truth, I was cursing those 3 morons who threw away their wickets and forced me to come in. At that point, I was talking to this real hot chick and had to break off the conversation mid-way.

I: Err... I mean cricket-wise.
C: Well nothing. Like I said, I didn't even know the score until you told me. I was just thinking to spend a few minutes, get out and resume my conversation with that chick and even tried that twice. But the fielding team cannot even catch a cold, let alone a catch.

I: And the way you got Sehwag out. Was it a plan?
C: Oh yes, why not. I bowled the full-toss precisely because I knew Sehwag will try to hammer it out of the park but will get an edge. Didn't work for the first 4 deliveries but worked the 5th time :D

I:So do you think 187 is a compatible total in this match.
C: No. Absolutely not. The way we are bowling and fielding, even you can score that much.

I:So you have any plans for SRT?
C: Actually we do. After every boundary he hits, the bowler will go near him and burst in to tears while the rest of the team will be praying hard. Hopefully, SRT's heart will melt and he will throw his wicket.

I: Why do you think you lost the match after coming so close to victory?
C: Oh you don't know??? I had fixed this match and had planned to get out after putting my team in a winning position. Next time, call me before the match and may be I could help you to make a few bucks.

I: Thank you, cricketer. It was a pleasure to speak to you.

C: Yes, now that you have had your pleasure, may I go back to that hot chick?

N. Srinivasan sets an example

In the latest development over mismanagement of funds in IPL, N. Srinivasan, BCCI's president-elect has pleaded ignorance to all the wrong doings. In a statement to the parliament's standing committee, he declared, " "We were taken for a ride. I know we cannot plead before you that we did not know all this was happening. Your question would be, were you not vigilant? What did you do? I am sorry, sir, there is no defence for me. No defence in front of you. So, I am not pleading that [ignorance] at all. We just put our heads down."

Like a sympathetic school teacher who's been there, done that (and possibly much more), the standing committee is understood to have understood his situation and gave him a, errr..., standing ovation for his honesty.

Taking a leaf out of his IPL boss' book, MSD has admitted to having no idea about his own batting or the game at large. "I can't really pin point the problem on this tour. I admit it's all been happening under my nose, but I think the time has come to confess that I do not understand the game at all. I treat it as a stress-buster between my advertising assignments you see, a hobby, you might call it", declared Dhoni with a broad grin.

In a totally unrelated incident, the students from the most premiere technical institute from southern India staged a demonstration calling for an end to the undue burden resulting from hailing them as la crème du pays. "If we were so good, we would be working on tech-projects in stead of investing our time and the govt's grants in Counter-Strike, Dota, How I met your mother or IMDB top 100. Calling us technocrats deters the JP Morgans and Deustche Banks which offer us our dream jobs. I hereby appeal to the aspirants and the awed to quit touting us as the smartest technical brains and let us apply peacefully for jobs with fat pay-cheques and which involve complicating financial data even further and bear no correlation, whatsoever, to our graduation". Thus commented CKSR Janardan Reddy, a student of Electrical Engineering, who hopes to be the reason behind the next financial meltdown.

Hating the state

A bomb blast today rocked the nation,

All we could hear was condemnation.

When an earthquake later shook the land,

Our mood still remained bland.

No concern for those who were hurt,

No remorse for those reduced to dirt.

Making statements is all the govt. does,

Even we are too busy updating an fb status.

The next bomb could be beside you or someone close,

Would you do the same if that one explodes?

The deceased reduced to jokes on the internet,

I'm sorry but I don't quite see the humanity in that.

I would rather see people full of hate.

hating the terrorists and hating the state.

People looking at the country with rage,

A rage deep enough to compel it to change.

A mere three weeks backs, united stood the nation,

Answering Anna's call against corruption.

The govt. is unwilling to fight terrorism too,

Is status updates all we can do?

Is he the next Gandhi?

Technically, all articles should start with an introduction of the issue. It's 6 AM, I haven't slept the whole night and am justifiably devoid of the patience to delve in to the background. So if you don't know the background already, please don't waste your time here.

Like 'Team Anna' has been claiming, there are many similarities between the two. Both are fasting to achieve something which the govt. of their respective times reluctant to gift-wrap and present to them. Both had a strong resume of social services before catching the nation's imagination. While Anna turned a poor village in to a model one, Gandhi did something similar during the time he spent in South Africa. Both took the route of non-violence to make their voices heard. And finally, both managed to get the rulers agree to their demands.

Small aberration that Anna actually beat up the youth in Ralegan Siddhi to set them straight. Well, you cannot preach to the hungry. Hence the use of force is justifiable to my mind. Adding to that, nobody would change their way of life for a fasting stranger. He resorted to more civil ways once he got the support of masses. And now when the hour of reckoning arrives, Anna is the poster-boy of the civil society. Lesson in strategy here.

Moving on to the present, the devil of a govt. has relented, Anna has his way and everything is sunshine and roses for India. Hail the new Gandhi.

If only he was not so much like Gandhi or Gandhi was as perfect as he's made out to be. Let's not talk about the Lokpal Bill for the time being. It has already been scanned and dissected more that those poor frogs in biology classes. Let's talk about the Satyagrahi power.

Now Gandhi, during his time, was the ultimate decision-maker in India. I would go as far as saying that he was a dictator for the little amount of time he lived in independent India. Every bill the parliament passed, every resolution the govt. undertook had to receive a nod by him. And if he deemed it wrong or unfair, it wouldn't see the light of day.

Read history deep enough and you will find many fundamental blunders made by the state of India and quite a few originated from one man-Gandhi. In case the ministers protested, he would use his ultimate weapon - threat of a fast. That's how Pakistan got their 40 crores at the time of partition. He was the father of the nation and the big daddy of Congress.

Now this created problems back then, as it does now. Without doubting the integrity and intentions of either, it is highly improbable that one man, that too those with a deeply ingrained sense of fairness, can do what's best for a nation. A saint can never run a grocery shop.

Gandhi used to say "A Satyagrahi always knows the right way." And it was only he who could judge all the qualities, the IQ or the fashion sense of an ideal Satyagrahi. It is more or less the same story 60 years later. Anna decides the members of the Civil Society, the date of enforcement for the bill and even the content of the same. For argument's sake, let's suppose we give Team Anna a free hand for drafting the bill. Now say, Kejriwal disagrees with Anna on some parts of it. What next? I can bet my oversized, overweight arse that Anna will force him out of the committee or threaten to on another hunger strike.

Not judging the JLP, but it is disturbing that we let one man enjoy so much power and but still strip with joy, blowing the trumpet of being the largest democracy.

The Bill

Before the respected Anna Hazare made that very public and widely publicised visit to Delhi, I had no clue about the Lokpal bill, like many others, I might add. He then staged a fast to get his voice heard and forced the government to include members of the 'civil' society in drafting the bill. The masses were behind him and he won.

The real problems arose when the government refused to accept some of his committee's suggestions to be included in the bill. (You could google for the major PoDs in the Jan Lokpal Bill, as it is popularly known, and the government's draft.) Angered by the government's lack of cooperation he and his team is up in arms against the high and mighty once again.

The bone of discontent seems to be the difference in scope of the two bills. The JLP tries to hold everyone, including the PM accountable while the government bill is content with being a watchdog for senior level officials. While I agree with the JLP on most issues, there are some points about the whole situation that worry me.

The first is sustainability. It is all based on the assumption that the members of the Lokpal committee will be clean as a whistle. In fact, the 1st committee might even be so just like the politicians in the 50s. But later on the power that the position grants them, is bound to corrupt some and may be all. Also, the assumption that the lokpal committee will be independent of political influence is far-fetched. It is India after all. Nothing is free from political influence here. And if the committee happens to be hand-in-glove with the government, it is as good as useless.

The other problem is the motive of the masses showing such solidarity. They are all against corruption no doubt but only when someone else does it. I don't think any of those supporters will think twice before greasing the palms of a traffic cops when they are caught jumping a signal. It is the always easier way out. To them, this is not a movement against corruption as such but only against the corrupt politicians. They are fine as long as the neighborhood ration-shop owner conveniently accepts gifts.

However, if I had a choice between the two, I'd always choose the JLP but with a humble request to Anna: Please bring in some regulations to ensure the incorruptibility of Lokpal members and please do not think Indians are as averse to corruption as is visible.

Dhoni decision unleashes a butterfly effect

The bizzarre case of Dhoni being given out by a wrong replay has sparked yet another controversy. The BCCI issued yet another statement wherein Sharad Pawar confirmed that he's received reports of food grain rotting in the open and is looking in to the problem. When reminded by the press about the issue at hand, he quipped, "the best way to protest against a wrong replay is by commenting on a different problem."

The goof-up has initiated a new method of marketing called counter-marketing and some companies are working overtime to conceptualise a full-fledged ad campaign based on the idea. While Ambuja Cement has decided to use the bikini-clad JK Cement model to drive customers away from JK Cement and hence towards Ambuja, Vodafone has decided to do away with its Zoozoo and air Dhoni's Aircel ads in a bid to encroach upon Aircel's customer base.

Last night, the CIA busted an Al-Queda plan to air old video clippings of Osama bin Laden to bluff the world in to believing that he's still alive. Upon questioning, the tape handler confessed, "If a video clip can fool a 3rd umpire hired by WICA, it can surely fool the CIA, innit?"

Meanwhile, the widespread use of the concept has landed the involved parties in a tussle over copyright ownership. Gregory Brathwaite, the officiating 3rd umpire is owning up to full responsibilty for the mistake and demanding full right, citing it as an unfortunate and avoidable accident which has ultimately proven to be fortunate as well as unavoidable for the emancipation of cricket in general and mankind in particular. The TV broadcasting agency too has staked its claimed for the rights declaring that they have been doing committing similar errors for a while now by airing wrong advertisements and programs. When asked, a spokesman explained, "We have hired highly untrained and underpaid professionals specifically for this job as nobody watches our channel anyway."

MS Dhoni claimed to be the victim of the fiasco and demanded to be compensated by way of copyrights and declared that he wont rest while sipping martinis on Barbados beach. An extremely enthusiastic reporter managed to peep in to an SMS sent to Shashank Manohar by him and could read the following words: wrong... sad... money... arm twist... WICA...ICC, before being hoicked away in the air by Dhoni in an ugly manner.

In the ongoing ICC meet, a new rule has been drafted by which a batsman can be given out based on the evidence of a previous delivery. Following the news, Cricket Boards across the globe have engaged in a bidding war over video clippings of a teenaged Sachin and Warne in his prime.

To my fellow IITians

A lot has been made of the recent suicide at IIT-M. As an alumnus, it really hurts to see the institute's name in the news for all the wrong reasons. It hurts even more when I see my friends squarely blaming it on the administration.

Yes. Someone took his own life. It is sad. But didn't we see 2-3 such cases and a few more attempts every year when we were there? Some were due to acads, some for not being able to get a good placement and some due to a failed love affair. How many times did we blame the administration back then? Deep down we always knew that it was a sad waste of life over something really not that important.

We wake up and start blaming the administration. Specially the remarks by the Dean. He is bad at PR, agreed. But that seems to inflame people more than the death itself. He screwed up alright but you cannot demand compassion. And frankly, for someone handling such cases every year, and a couple more attempts, compassion is a job hazard.

We blame the administration for being insensitive. But if his parents and closest friends did not get a hint of what was to come, how could the guys in administration know, to whom, he was just another student. It is all so easy to blame it on them because that takes the burden of truth off our shoulders. There is a so called guidance and counseling unit put together by the students whose priority job is to prevent such incidents. But the guys selected on the body are all due to political reasons and nobody cares enough to cleanse that up. Did the GCU take any blame for it? Has the GCU head offered to resign before asking the dean to do so? My guess is, he hasn't.

Too much academic pressure on students, we claim. Though I personally don't believe that, having graduated with a 7.5 without much effort but would we want the workload be reduced and result in quality dilution? The reason we cited to raise our voices against reservations. The U grades and extensions are part and parcel of the game and those are the reason we keep on our toes and put in just about enough effort to crawl to the dais on convocation.

The 'trend' of so many extensions handed out by one prof and 2 of those students taking their own lives is indeed worrisome and must be addressed but I have not seen the prof's name pop up even once in those endless threads on fb and e-mails. I feel we are aiming our guns in the wrong direction.

It would have been more relevant if the students had raised their voices against the administration when an unfortunate student lost his life on his birthday due to the sheer lethargy of medical staff. The 'admin' had the balls to blame it on birthday bumps. That was sad. And infuriating. Administration had failed there and did not take the blame. But we did nothing more than claiming condolences on facebook and gtalk. That was the time when the so called administration could have been shaken out out of its slumber. We missed it. And we retort when the fault lies more with us.

The Haunted Well

Ghanshyam was among the few men in his village who could read and write. Belonging to a wealthy family, he was educated in Jaipur, a privilege few could afford in those times. Even fewer had justified the expenses borne by their families in sending off their son to the city for education. So he considered it a cruel act of fate when his father passed away and he, being the only man in the family, had to return home after his 1^st year in BA to take care of his mother and 2 sisters.

Upon return, he prospered as a landlord, his education and inheritance holding him in good stead. The villagers of Madot revered his intelligence and wealth and frequently sake his advice in matters of money and family. As he was now the wealthiest and, as some would have him believe, the wisest man in the community he was confident that he would become the representative of his community in the next village Panchayat. Hence, he was in for a rude shock when his community elders, including some of his relatives, favored Meghram over him.

In stead of making his disgust evident, he decided to dig deeper and find out the reason for this injustice. For the next 6 months, he coaxed and cajoled his close ones in to admitting the real reason for the raw deal he got. Saying that he was dumbfounded would be an understatement. He concluded that he wasn’t chosen, partly because he had spent his formative years in the city and not in the village and whose deep rooted issues and beliefs he would never comprehend. The same village, whose problems he so easily understood and solved. But those were the times when anything foreign was treated with cynicism and suspicion. He was just a smart man to the villagers with no real say in the way they functioned.

The major reason, but, was the fact that he did not believe in spirits, so much so that he had not organized a single barsi for his late father. The pain of losing a parent and then altering your life’s plans may affect some people such. But for the villagers, this was blasphemous and unthinkable.

Ghanshyam, being the man he was, decided not to bow down to the pressure but in stead prove to the villagers that no such thing as ghosts or spirits existed. He was convinced that if he could convince the villagers of this, they would not be averse to supporting him as a representative in the Panchayat.

He, being a methodical man, came out with the perfect plan to convince the villagers. Just outside Madot, there was a dried up well, inside the cemetery boundary wall. The people of the village were of the belief that any man, once cremated, resided in the well until Chitragupta worked out his deeds and ordered his carriage to either heaven or hell. Needless to add, people were scared of going near the well alone even in broad daylight as every now and then, someone would claim to have heard strange voices coming out of it.

Ghanshyam’s plan was simple. He would go to the well on a moonless night, spend an hour there, and return to the village. If he did return safely, his community would be bound to endorse him as a Panch over Meghram. To prove that he had actually visited the well, he would hammer a nail in the wall covering the well. So strong was his belief that he turned a deaf ear to his well-wishers’ advices, pleading sisters and a weeping mother and patiently waited for Amavas.

On the night of reckoning, he left the village when the clock struck 12, promising to return after an hour. As he walked to the cemetery, he laughed to himself when he heard multiple chants and prayers for his well being.

The villagers waited with baited breath for his return as time went past.By 2 o’ clock, his mother could not bear it and began bellowing while the sisters consoled her. By 3.30, even Ghanshayam’s sisters could not hold it any longer and started hollering, fearing the worst. By 4.30, the whole village was in frenzy, with the elders collecting in the temple and praying as the youngsters formed search parties to begin looking for him with the first ray of sun. The bravest of the youngsters, armed with totems, rushed to well, praying more for their safety than Ghanshyam’s.

They found Ghanshyam’s body sprawled by the well, with one hand strongly clasped on his Dhoti. His mouth was wide open and his eyes were about to pop out. The face had a look of such horror, as if he had seen a ghost. The priest insisted on first persuading the ghost to leave the body before allowing it to be cremated, costing Ghanshyam’s family a fortune.

The tragedy was nothing but another anecdote in the list of reasons cited by the villagers to keep away from the well. And oh, the old man who told me this story swears that he saw Ghanshyam’s dhoti stuck in the nail which Ghanshyam had hammered in the wall but nobody believed him as he was only 8 at that time.

*For all you morons who have a low IQ and didn't understand the last bit but are too proud to admit it, here's the logic:

Ghanshyam's dhoti got stuck in the nail and when he turned around to leave, he felt his dhoti being pulled. Fearing the worst, he died of shock.

Intern Diaries

The 1st day in Hyderabad began with n excellent breakfast at the guest house and then rushing to office. As in most corporate, the first half involved lots of lectures on which we, poor interns gave up half way as the senior management rattled on about ideas, principles and policies. After a very spicy Andhra lunch, enter my guide. A man who commands authority or is scary, depending on your perspective. But one thing was clear; you could not rub him the wrong way. He draws a 6 day schedule and sends me off to the on-field man.

From the next day, I was commuting between retail stores across the city sitting on the back seat of a scooter. The guy would go in the store, clean up and arrange the stock, while I’d hunt for relevant people to speak to. In between we’d take a break to have something selling by the road. I’d eat with him despite knowing that the food will upset my already weak stomach for the sake of blending in. I am told that this way, they share more info with you than they otherwise would. With time, the luxury of a scooter and a city guide disappeared and I was moving around and hunting on my own. Day after day, I seek to get lost in the sea of customers and try to observe and conduct interviews without the store authorities noticing.

Visits to office are so rare I still haven’t been able to button for tea in the office vending machine. The tea I need to relax before facing my boss, who gives me the hibberly-jibberlies every time I meet him. Not that he’s evil. In fact he’s very supportive and helpful but sometimes he’s just… scary. It didn’t help that he once yells on the phone at someone so loudly that everyone and everything in the office froze for an hour. Well, it felt like an hour.

My workload and degree of difficulty increases with every meeting and I keep insinuating that this time, it might not be possible to accomplish everything. He just asks me to try my best and somehow I have managed it till date. My mid-term review beckons now and with that, a few deliverables which seem impossible this time. I can just cross my fingers and hope that he lets it pass.

On the other end, life is a collage of colours after 5 PM, thanks to old friends and the 2008 alumni bunch. It all started the 1st day itself when Arnab invited me to celebrate his promotion. Within minutes of meeting, he had decided that I’ll move in with him and to Nanda’s place after a week without even asking me. For my 1st week, when I was living in the company guest house, I didn’t have dinner there even once despite the caretaker being a good cook, thanks to Arnab, Nanda and Neha.

The trend continued once I moved in with Auni and then with Nanda. In my 3 weeks in Hyderabad, I have been to HRC, an IPL match, 5 movies, a club’s launch party and Char Minar with these guys, not to mention the countless parties at home. I also have had the famous Biryani at Paradise and the awesome lunch served at 10 Downing Street on my own.

Such stays are not without their share of incidents and memories worthy to be reminisced upon on a later date. Hence, I admit to be politely asked to leave two retail stores as I roamed around the stores for over two hours without showing any interest in actually purchasing something. And then there was the vintage Robby act who just would not let Arnab leave and threw such a tantrum that Arnab relented and stayed back for a half hour even though he was getting late for his packing and his flight. And when Arnab was finally leaving, he went to the ground floor barefoot to see him off and took 15 mins to return to the apartment, in an elevator. Nobody knows how.

Personally as well as professionally, much has been done and more remains to be done. My project is not even halfway through and I am to implement a pilot before I leave, which doesn’t sound easy at all. I am yet to visit Golconda fort, Chaumahala Palace and Saler Jung Museum. There are friends to catch up with from graduation and school days. Friends, who will follow and terminate me if I leave without meeting with. And then there are the epic Nanda jokes to be chronicled and a Robby to control. (The last job spans the whole duration of my MBA.)

I don’t know how much I will accomplish during my stay here but it is certain that the memories will be pleasant and the intern educative.

The Missed Messages

Movies are a modern day wonder. We enjoy one, we learn from one, are inspired by one, or just kill time with one. Well, I usually pull my hair in frustration when stuck with one. But then, we do not completely comprehend everything we watch or read. Well, you, not me. So, for the enlightenment of lesser mortals, I have prepared a small list of the movies in which you missed out on the real message:

1. Inglorious Basterds - French chicks have bigger balls than the best of US soldiers

2. The boy in striped pajamas - Jews are sadists. The Jewish kid was going to die anyway... Did he pull in the other kid just for kicks?

3. Flags of our fathers - never send sissies to the front. They will only embarrass the country later.

4. X men - Nobody.makes.Fun.of.wolverine.Nobody.

5. Avatar - in the future, men may find 8 feet tall, blue skinned aliens hotter than chicks..

6. Rocky - a long retired, 50 yrs old boxer can make mincemeat of today's best... Something is seriously wrong with our generation.

7. Dev D – Forget your childhood sweetheart. A whore will love you more.

8. Forrest Gump: Even the retarded may strike wealth. Be nice to them.

9. Gran Torino: If you want your dad’s money, be good to him. If you are not, someone else will be.

10. Fight Club: The movie laughed at us you fool, just like I am at this very moment. "Is your life so empty that you honestly can't think of a better way to spend these moments?"

A letter to a Prof.

Professor Chakraborty,
Foculty,
Operations Management,
IMT Ghaziabad,
Rojnagar,
Ghoziabad

Sub: Onticipatory potition against the toghness of tomorrow's exam in view of the contemporary social and cultural environment

Dear Sir,

As you know, tomorrow is the mother-of-all closhes in the World Cup. In case you do not already know, I am dolighted to infarm you that India hab reached the semi-phinal of the on going Cricket World Cup and sholl be playing against sworn rivals Pakistan in Mohali tomorrow. Needless to add that the bhinner will proceed to the finals.

As a professor of Operations Management, I am sure you realise the grovity of the situation. I wish to add that tomorrow has been declared holf day in most compaanies across India, including US MNCs. (We didn't even need a strike to achieve that).Else, the amount of obsenteeism would have created an operational nightmare for managors like me who phinish their MBAs remaining grossly untrained and ignorant of the discipline.

Extrapolating the same logic, I assure you that none of my friends shall stady for the exam either, as I only befriend peepul who are cricket lovers. Only those without a shrod of patriotism in them sholl lock themselves up and crom for the exam. If taaph koschen is cooming, it will simply dibhide the test-takors in two categories. The majority with a big, bold 'O' gaping from their onswer sheets and an unpatriotic, capitolist minority who shall score some marks. Tell me sir, bhat is more impotent. Bhatching a Sachin (sorry, Dada retired a bhile back) straight drive reaching the boundory or scoring 10 marks in the eggjaaam.

I should omphasise that this is a dangerooos situatooon as it bhill create a class divide with the nationalists losing out to anti-national forces. Surely you cannot let that happen. Moreover, you being a Bengali should give the hard workers and the slockers equal opportunity and marks.

PS: We shall go on a strike if our demands our not met, Bengal style.

Thonkfully yours,
Ashutosh Bihani,
Cricket lover and accidental MBA

Adios, O' Fiendish Genius

I should perhaps begin by saying that I liked you. I liked you because you were a genius at your profession. The aggression, the grit, the skill and above all the bloody-mindedness were all in place. You decimated the opposition to pieces and robbed them of any self-belief they might possess. Steve Waugh, the greatest captain I have seen, prophesied that you shall be the best batsman for the past decade. His 'Aussiness' prevented him from adding the words 'next to Sachin' but we all knew that, didn't we?

I admired your class and the practice of taking on the best bowler of the opposition to stamp your authority. Down the years, you became the captain of the Aussie juggernaut and I admired you for being such a wonderful captain. I didn't hate you when each of the billion of us were at least dejected in '03 because of you. I even spared a thought for you and the very likable Brett Lee in the greatest Ashes Series ever.

But then, something changed. As the battle-hardened heroes set in to the sunset, they exposed a gray side of a genius which was, until then so effectively hidden behind the camouflage of a utopia where no pressure existed. To begin with, that team you lead was a as perfect a machine as their could be, in which, every cog and lever knew its function and performed it with precision. Once the old parts wore off, it became clear that you were not half the machine operator everyone thought of you to be. Your tactics ranged from intelligent to reckless, sometimes even flirting with selfishness and stupidity. (Think the time when Dhoni and Bhajji added quick 70 odd runs when Ponting bowled part timers, to get on with the time and save 'banned' from being stamped on his ass for the next match). More generally, recall his face when he loses from a tight situation. It is neither remorse, nor dejection. It is anger, frustration and above all, bewilderment. It screams a loss of control over the proceedings. Not done. Not done at all.

Such incidents can, however, only lessen respect but cannot generate negativity. That is generated by unfair, ungentlemanly acts. Of which, you have committed plenty. Sledging, pressuring the umpire and lying were, and are, simply part of the game for you. But then, this game is called the gentleman's game for a reason. Instances of dishonesty which are simply overlooked in other sports, are not taken lightly in this one. Such moments can be found aplenty in your career. (pointing out such instances is pointless)

You are a true great of the game and no one could deny you that. But with this greatness, did come some responsibility. You were to be an ambassador of the game, a mentor to your team mates and a role-model to the youngsters. Sadly, you failed here. You were arrogant, abusive and, to put it rudely, a cheat. While Sachin walks, Kallis takes the fielder's word on a catch, you insult the game by claiming grassed catches. I pray that the next generation of cricketers do not idolise you or the cricket field will turn in to a zoo with players jumping up and down like orangutans, the way Watson did on Gayle's face after getting him out.

I think I have made my point here. On a parting note, I am happy that you ended your illustrious WC journey with a century. Partly because it is befitting but mainly because the hurt of a gritty, memorable century in a losing cause will compensate a bit for the heartburns you have inflicted on cricket and its fans with your behavior.

Adios, O' fiendish genius!!!