Whoa Baby!

I don't know how much justice I can do to the match, but I can't, absolutely CANNOT but write this. So here goes.
A short recap of the pre-final matches for those out of touch with cricket. India-England: India made 218 from their twenty, with Yuvraj hitting six sixes in the 19th over off Stuart Broad (though the fault was entirely Andrew Flintoff's!) and reaching 50 off 12 balls in the process. England never really got off and India won by 18 runs. India-SA: I don't think anyone expected us to win this one, but we did anyway. With a meagre 153 on the board, we looked to be heading straight out of the WC. But our bowlers did a fantastic job, not only winning the match, but sending tournament favourites SA home* as well. India-Australia: Even fewer people thought we'd make it through this one, but I daresay a lot more hoped. Semi-finals against the world champs and our boys had nothing to prove and no expectations to live up to. And we beat the Aussies by 15 whole runs (HUGE margin in T20) defending 188. We'd made it to the finals, where Pakistan lay in wait.
India-Pakistan finals. Three words that can send chills up your spine and set your heart aglow at the same time. All post college extra classes were mass bunked. All roads were buzzing with people dying to get home between 5 and 5.30. At six, the roads were empty. The world (or all I know of it, anyway!) was glued to the TV.
India started fabulously, with Yusuf Pathan, big bro of Irfan, hitting a HEE-YOOOGE six in his very first over in international cricket, off Md. Asif nonetheless. Then we began to falter, and before we knew what on earth hit us, we were struggling at 40-2, and salvaged some pride only thanks to Gautam Gambhir and Rohit Sharma. 157, enough on the Jo'burg belter? Never! At least that's what we THOUGHT.
Pakistan came out to bat, and RP Singh took a wicket in his very first over. We were thrilled (duh!) but that was short lived - our very own Sree Santh went for 21 in his first. The next 14 overs are summarised below:
Kamran Akmal clean bowled by RP, Imran Nazir run out to a fabulous 50 yard direct hit by Uthappa, Younis Khan out to Joginder Sharma with Yusuf Pathan taking his first international catch, Shoaib Malik and Shahid Afridi both caught off Irfan Pathan's bowling in the same over, and Yasir Arafat bowled by him in his next. All of this with A LOT of belting. But with four overs left and 54 left to score, we all thought, 'Ah! We can make it easily', having done exactly that against the Aussies. But the Pakistanis were not giving up that soon.
With Harbhajan's third and India's seventeenth over going for 3 sixes, Dhoni had to give the ball to one of his strike bowlers. And who did he choose? Sree Santh. Who got absolutely thulped. Pakistan needed 35 to win with 3 wickets in hand before his over, after, they needed 20 with 2 wickets in hand. He'd given the 15 (much to our horror) but taken the all important wicket. Dhoni then chose to go with RP Singh for the penultimate over, which was a mini-stroke of genius because he gave away just 7 runs and took Umar Gul for nought. Pakistan needed 13 of the last over with a wicket in hand. Misbah Ul-Haq still eluded, though. Joginder, who'd gone for plenty earlier, was brought on to bowl the last. I was nothing short of a ball of nerves.
With the first ball of the over being called wide, the curses flew thick and fast. 12 off 6. The second ball was a swing and a miss from Ul-Haq. 12 off 5. The third ball broke a billion hearts as it flew for a straight six. 6 off 4, and all hope gone. The next ball was something which my mum and I agree has got nothing to do with cricket or even strength of character or prudence. It's just karma. Just scripted. The Gods simply wanted us to win. Misbah Ul-Haq croaked for the second time in a week and a half, scooping the ball to short fine-leg and straight into Sree Santh's wide open arms. We had clinched a thriller.
The hour that followed was a flurry of celebrations. The entire past two weeks have been, actually. A reverie of sorts. I'm just glad we came out a micron luckier.
We celebrated late into the night. (Okay, only 12, but that's late by our standards!) Today, as expected, tons of jokes and articles have started doing the rounds. Eg.

Knock-knock!
Who's there?
Misbah.
Misbah who?
Mis-bah 5 runs!

College was brilliant, with most of us dressed in blue (and even a handful in Team India jerseys) and singing 'Chak De India!' and 'We Are The Champions!'. And so the saga continues. Life goes on, but happier. The Men In Blue have taken our blues away.

*Technically, they were at home anyway, but you get what I mean!

The Messrs Hit Hit Bang Bang

I'm willing to bet that the number of blog entries posted across India today is at least double the average. And everyone who does post one is completely justified in doing so, yesterday being a completely blog-worthy day!
Let's start at the very beginning. I've always got a lot of flack from a lot of my friends who think cricket is too slow and too long. Twenty20 brings exactly what a lot of people complained about the lack of in cricket - excitement. And I for one am loving it.
My grandad isn't too thrilled with the whole idea. He said, and I quote, 'In 2017, we'll be watching 10-a-side matches, ten years after that, one over per team. I don't think they can take it below that, though'. Which brings me to my point. T20, in every way, is a game for youngsters. (My mum should be thrilled with this assessment. She loves T20!)
Yesterday's last match was nothing short of a thriller. The morning match was the real high scoring one - Sri Lanka made 260-odd against the Kenyans. But in my opinion, Harsha Bhogle made an excellent observation. He said the match left him cold. Because that's not what cricket should be about. It isn't really as much fun if every bowler's economy rate is over 8 and the outfields doctored to push the ball to the boundary. Give the bowlers a pitch with a little something in it and T20 cricket could be something more than just a display of mindless hitting. And that's exactly why yesterday's India-Pak match was brilliant. That, and the fact that India won.
I don't really think it's necessary for me to write a match report or anything of the sort. However, for the souls far removed for cricket, here goes. Md. Asif started off the match by taking a wicket each in each of his four overs. India looked absolutely down in the dumps. Robin Uthappa, however, did his best to turn things around with a nice partership with Dhoni, only to be dismissed immediately after his 50. The rest of the innings was a whole lot of swinging of the bat, with a little cameo from Pathan in the middle. India, surprisingly, reached 141-9.
Needing only 142,(Yeah folks, ONLY 142. ONLY 7.1 an over. That's T20 for you!) Pakistan seemed clear favourites. But wait! India had other plans. Some nice bowling from our openers, backed up by an absolutely inspired spell from Pathan (including a double* wicket maiden), in turn backed up by a brilliant spell from Harbhajan, ensured that India was on the brink of victory. The dropped Afridi catch notwithstanding. But we all know the Indian team has the uncanny ability to snatch defeat from the jaws of victory. They NEARLY did. Misbah Ul-Haq and Yasir Arafat brought it down to 1 required off 2 to win. The first delivery of the two, Ul-Haq missed completely. On the second one, it seemed like they had the game but some great fielding from India led to Pakistan finishing their 20 at 141-7. It was a tie that needed breaking.
And then there came a little something that I enjoyed thoroughly, but that was entirely because we won. I would have cursed it thoroughly had we lost, and I have no qualms about admitting it. One of football's joys is the penalty shootout, and now cricket has it's very own version. The bowl out. Each team nominates five bowlers to bowl at the stumps alternately, till one team has more stumps down than the other. To put it in a nutshell, Sehwag hit, Arafat missed, Harbhajan hit, Gul missed, Uthappa hit, Afridi missed and India won 3-0. Elation!
Everyone has their own take on this version of the game, and I'm no different. Personally, I love it. It's short enough to keep the game from getting boring - not a dull moment in T20 - and at the same time long enough to make sure real talent and efforts count. The other great thing about this ultra shortened version is that it is a great leveller. We saw a team dogged by controversy and hence consisting of mere schoolboys beat the undisputed world champs. As I speak, Bangladesh, the so-called minnows who have already sent the Windies home, have hit 76 off the first 7 overs against a solid SA side. You can't afford even a single moment of laxness, or the opposition can have a moment of brilliance which has you with your back to the wall.
What makes this World Cup enjoyable is more than just the whackfest. There's the additional advantage that since Dhoni-led India has absolutely no chance of winning the cup or even coming close, we can view every match as a bonus and watch it tensionlessly.

* The first ball of this over yielded a wicket, albeit a run out. Later in the over, Pathan picked up his first with a beautiful ball. So wicket maiden or double wicket maiden? Go figure. Whatever you decide, it's a rarity in this game. Which is why, for me, Pathan was the man of the match, not Md. Asif. Then again, my nationality might have something to do with it...

Harry Potter And The Deathly Hallows - A Review (****/*****)

I was just telling my sister yesterday about my Harry Potter theory - that I've enjoyed the odd-numbered books thoroughly, and the even-numbered ones not so much. So I figured that book 7 would be enjoyable. (More than figured, I was hoping against hope!) And I was right. And the only reason I'm not giving it a five-star review is because I'm writing this whilst still on the high that the book has given me, and I don't want to look back on this review as one which I wrote in a state of being extremely carried away!
Also, I'd better make this one short because I wouldn't want to inadvertently ruin the book for someone... All that I can say is that the book is distinctly Da Vinci Code-ish. Really complex and very deeply interwoven and at times rather confusing. But amazing all the same. And certainly thought provoking.
All-in-all, you've gotta read it, and gotta read it quick! At the last check, my mum had seen the eventual fate of most characters as headlines on a news channel's ticker, and I'll bet there are plenty more (idiotic) news channels waiting to do the same. So grab your copy before someone manages to ruin it for you!

Just Another Sunday...

Or not! I wasn't planning to post anything till my exams get over, but I know I HAVE to write about Sunday's match before I get over the high!
I think I've lost count of the times I thought Nadal was out of this year's Wimbledon (while he was playing Soderling and Youzhny, and before he played Djokovic). So when he made it to the finals, I was relieved more than anything else. I have to say I didn't except him to give Federer any sort of fight. I excpected a three setter, maybe a four setter... Well, I was wrong! (Thankfully!)
There was plenty of build up to the match, most notably a segment which had Jimmy Connors, John McEnroe and Bjorn Borg walk down from the entrance, past the locker rooms and right onto the Centre Court itself, rounded off with a nice little mini-interview by Sue Barker. I was excited enough already!
As Rafa and Feddy walked onto court, I was probably more nervous than both of them combined! The match began not so well for me - Rafa got broken in his very first service game. But thankfully, he broke back soon to take the set to a tie break. Feddy thought he'd won the set but Nadal made a very wise Challenge that won him the point. This was the first of many which Feddy was to suffer, though he didn't know it. (Of couse, we didn't either!) But Nadal just delayed the inevitable. Feddy won the set anyway.
The second set seemed pretty neck-and-neck, but just as Feddy was serving to stay in the set, Rafa won a fabulous point sitting down, and before he realised it, the set was snatched from under Feddy's nose! I loved that!
Third set was boring, more so for Rafa fans. Dragged into a tie break, which Feddy (duh!) won.
The fourth set was where the action actually began. Feddy got broken in the very first game of the set and I was thrilled to bits. Nadal held, and just when it looked as though Feddy was going to follow suit, Nadal made yet another brilliant Challenge. The ball was called in, much to the displeasure of The King. And (in a first), he whined, and got broken again. Just as he looked to be losing it, Nadal started gripping his knee. Half a game later, he called for the trainer. Now, Roger Federer was sulking like a little kid and asking the chair umpire to switch off Hawk-eye. That is the first time I have seen him behave less than perfect, and I have to admit, it felt sort of good. Nadal was, by this time, clearly not in greatest physical shape, but he somehow held on to his two breaks of serve and his own serve, and took the fourth set 6-2.
Fifth set would have been fabulous had Nadal not been injured. He couldn't convert any of his 4 break points, and succumbed quite easily to the might of Federer. I was almost in tears. To quote a few of my friends, (a) My heart had been smushed and plastered all over the walls, (b) My heart had more holes than Spongebob Squarepants and (c) Feddy had ripped my heart out and done the Mexican Hat Dance on it.
Still, Nadal and I both braved the presentation ceremony. Most importantly, I can now laugh at people who say that Nadal's a good-for-nothing except on clay. He's silenced the world with his game and won hearts (He's won mine, at least!) with his humility. Just to give some perspective as to how close the match was, let me mention that Nadal and Feddy had won the exact same number of games - 27 apiece. Which is more than you can say of Feddy at the French. Vijay Amritraj says that Nadal will win a Wimbledon before Feddy wins a French. And I hope with all my heart that he's right, because he deserves it thoroughly. And to me, he's brilliant already!

Troisieme Titre!

I remember seeing a video a few years back by Asha Bhonsle - one of her pathetic attempts at resinging her old songs and selling the album as Indipop. If you thought the song was bad, the video was worse. I think it features Perizaad Zorabian as the interviewer/ talk show host/ something of the sort who asks Asha Bhonsle, "Which is you favourite song of the ones you've sung?" and she replies, "Can a mother say which one of her children she likes best? How can you expect me to say which one of my songs I like best?". Terribly cheesy line. What I'm trying to say in all this beating around the bush is that I was torn between supporting Nadal and Djokovic in the semifinals of the French Open.
It was a very painful match for me. (I think I wrote the same thing when they met last year!) So
much so that after every point was over, I would cheer for the player who won the point and moan for the one who lost it. This REALLY irritated my family, but I had to do this for my two favourite players! In the end, it turned out to be a belting from Nadal, but there was tennis of great quality played by both. And I enjoyed the match in spite of my double-yelling.
The 'dream final' was something I'd look forward to since the Hamburg Masters. The whole tennis world, I guess. We were split into two groups - the ones who thought that Federer would win Roland Garros because of the psychological advantage he gained with the Hamburg Masters win, and the ones who thought that the aforementioned tournament final was simply a bad day for Nadal and that he would win the French. I belonged to the first group (Trust me, if you saw the Hamburg Masters, you would too!) but hoped and prayed that Nadal would win! And he did! It was a much closer fought match than last year's final, though. Had my loyalties not been so strong, I would certainly have enjoyed the match more than I did.
Bottom line - Nadal won, beating Federer 6-3, 4-6, 6-3, 6-4 and preventing him from holding all four slam titles at the same time and possibly winning the Grand Slam. So in spite of the fact that exams are fast approaching, I took a lot of time off to watch the French Open. And I plan to do the same for Wimbledon. So I'd better get a move on if I plan to finish studying in the next two weeks!

Something To Write (Home) About

Yay! It's a blog entry! And I have a perfectly good explanation for the lack of blog entries and the title of this blog. I was just randomly browsing the internet about two weeks back (Don't we all?) and I happened to stumble upon an article about blogging. Being a voracious blog reader and a former voracious blogger, I decided to read it. Now, the article was very blah, but there was a comment left by a reader that I thought made a lot of sense. It said that by blogging only when you NEED to express yourself, you not only have better creative satisfaction, but also a high quality blog entry. So what if the entries infrequent? I believe that instead of coming online every week and posting a one-sentence blog about how I'll post a longer entry soon or one about college (I guess everyone who's read this blog has figured out that there are tests/exams regularly at college, so I hope to write less about those!) I can write about something that has impacted me in some way. I hope this improves your Quality of Experience of reading my blog. (That Fancy Phrase is courtesy the Director of my college. He loves saying it!)
So here I am. With something to write about. Really! And as stupid and insignificant as a little 4' X 8' article might seem, it actually made my day. (Week, rather!) And it has inspired this blog entry.
Everyone who remotely knows me knows that I adore Rafael Nadal. And I've said a million times before that I like him WAY better than Roger Federer. I don't really have anything against Federer, really, but he seems very... unreal, somehow. Nadal, on the other hand, I find plain adorable, and the article a couple of days ago just reaffirmed that. The article just talked about Rafa's life and career, but there were these little things that made me feel really nice when I read them. For one, he still lives in his childhood home in Manacor, Mallorca, with his whole extended family. Also, he keeps out of the limelight as far as possible, and has a girlfriend who I never knew about (and I know a lot about him) which leads me to think he likes his privacy. And above all, I find that the word most reporters use to describe him is simple, and I love that about him. Which got me thinking.
I think it's Rafa's entire image which I love. He's sweet, simple and a child at heart. Which, rather than his tennis playing ability, is probably what appeals to me. (Seriously! Remember this article comes close on the heels of a loss to the Fed himself!) I'm sure Federer is the perfect Gentleman, someone you must admire, respect, revere, and sometimes just gawk at his shots... But (tennis playing ability aside) is he the kind of person one of us would like to befriend? And then I look at Nadal. Who isn't even close to being as talented or as dignified or polished as Federer, but somehow has a way of making you smile, of brightening up your day when you see him being interviewed. (And of keeping you guessing when he's playing!) I'm sure many people who are reading this don't agree with my assessment of the two people, but it doesn't bother me. To put it in a nutshell (if crudely) Feddy's the sorta person I feel like applauding for continuously, but hearing Nadal speak makes me want to jump into the TV screen and give him a huge hug. It's probably what the two of them represent that makes me like Nadal much more than Feddy. Heck, I don't know either of them! This blog entry has kinda been a huge analogy, but what (I think) I'm trying to say is that I always find myself enjoying the company of someone who's human rather than perfect, and it's people who belong to the former category who warm my heart.
P.S. Read the article. It can be found in the Bangalore edition (and all other editions, I presume) of the Times of India, dated 22nd July, 2007 (i.e., this Tuesday). My copy as been cut and preserved for posterity!

Sunshine Day!

After I've joined college, my family has rarely got to go on these family outings. Today, thus, was a good change! After weeks of planning to go, we finally took the plunge and ended up going to the Butterfly Park at Bannerghatta National Park.
My blog entry about it is probably going to sound like an ad for the park, but the truth of the matter is, I enjoyed it so much that I can't stop going on and on about it. One of the most pleasing sights greets you as you enter - the huge line for the main park as opposed to no line at all for the butterfly park! Can't deny that this felt good. The other thing that strikes you immediately is the modern design of the whole setup. It gets you going straight away. And doesn't disappoint.
The short tree-lined stone walkway in itself is extremely pleasant. Better still, there are little boards put up with tidbits of information to read as you walk. The actual reserve is a sort of bio-dome - a self contained ecosystem. I absolutely loved it. There are butterflies everywhere. (Duh!) And there was a serene feeling throughout the park in spite of the fact that we were there in the middle of the day. The variety of butterflies that we saw was amazing. (Here, pictures might be a better idea to bring out their beauty. Pics coming soon!)
As you exit the glass-covered dome, you enter a museum of all things butterfly. From pictures to live caterpillars to large posters to butterfly puzzles... You name it! Again, we spent ages here admiring the museum. At the exit, there's a small movie-theatre thingy which screens little movies on butterflies but unfortunately wasn't functioning today. We chose to take the long way out, and we're glad we did, because in doing so, we got to see the lab and nursery attached to the viewing room.
At the end of the small but highly enjoyable trip, we got to see another species - monkeys, and tons of 'em! We'd realised that a lot of trouble had gone into making the park - they'd done these little things like make the door to the bio-dome butterfly-shaped and the entire building larva-shaped. And all of us were really satisfied and felt that we'd got our ticket's worth! So next time you're in Bangalore and have half a day free, you know where to go!

What, Me Normal?

Anybody who knows me well enough will probably laugh if I suggest that I am a nonconformist. I assure you, I am not one. When it comes to following RULES, I do it stringently. No questions asked. However, when it comes to day-to-day things, I have very different ways of doing things. And this is something I take pride in.
Let's start from the very beginning. When I wake up each morning, I make it a point to do it with a smile. I get out of bed as soon as I can - I'm not usually the type to laze around in bed. And I go through the day with a smile on my face. Most of the time. And I tend to bounce through the day. (This can be confirmed by anyone who's seen me!) Still not convinced I'm weird?
My food habits. For starters, I love food of all sorts. (I don't eat red meat, and I'm not over-fond of bread or eggs. Give me anything else and I'll eat it. What's more, I'll enjoy it.) I choose to eat not in large quantities, but it small quantities at greater frequency. Which leads to my nickname of 'food girl' or 'fruit girl' at college. The latter nickname is due to the fact that most of the time, I eat fruits. And I absolutely love 'em. And veggies as well. But none of that is really weird. What's really weird is the way I approach a buffet. I eat every single item on the menu (unless it's got red meat in it) and then on my last round, pick out my favourites and eat an extra helping of those. I must be the only non-vegetarian I know who actually faithfully eats the salads as well. And I do it because I love them. The other day when I was making 'chaat' for myself, my mum pointed out something that I hadn't noticed before. I make my 'chaat' by pouring the chutneys one by one on each 'paapdi'. I do it with love. Actually, I deal with all my food with love. Why? No idea. It just feels good somehow.
Over the last couple of years, I've kinda figured I'm what I like to call 'anti-cool'. Don't get me wrong. I don't go around wearing yellow shirts and pink pants just because I don't want to look 'cool'. I'm just afraid of being lost in the crowd of people that is trying to be in with it at all times. And my idea of 'cool' is how I look normally, which is quite different from everybody else's description of 'cool'. Most of the time, I wear clothes that gives most people a headache - either too bright or too colourful. I've got tons of jibes for doing this but I don't care. Actually, I kind of enjoy it. Because when people don't see my style my way, I know that it's still MY style, and no one else's. I've got a multi-coloured tye-and-die hippie t-shirt, a red-and-white chequered candygirl t-shirt (which my sister likes to call the caterer's daughter t-shirt!), a flower girl belt, a multi-coloured stripey scarf with a knitted cap to match, a t-shirt with fish all over it... The list goes on. Also, though practically every girl I know rolls up the sleeves of her (ugly, dirty, grey, auto driver-esque) workshop uniform, I refuse to do so. Because it's just not me.
And there are other things - As I've said earlier, I love things that are old. Old music, old movies, old books, old fashion. I was born fifty years too late. I iron my pants with the crease on the side, not in the front like normal people. My favourite TV show is still Full House. (I can't stand Friends!) I need to go to sleep by 10.30 to feel satisfied. I need to sleep at least eight hours a day to function properly. I've eaten a glass bottle, cockroach repellent and mud. (Told you I eat anything!) When I sing, I tend to sing the background vocals rather than the main tune. When people start talking, I tend to pick up phrases they use and start singing songs which include these phrases. I sing in the bathroom. I'm one of the most scrupulous people I know (and most people think this is a bad thing!). I can think of a ton of things that are weird about me, but I should probably stop here.
The thing is, I have a constant need to stand out from the rest. And when I say need, I mean need, not want. I cannot bear to be lost in the crowd. I must have something which sets me apart from the rest. And, as my parents have pointed out most of the time, I usually do this inadvertently. Because who I am is just different. We all are, really, in some way or the other. And I find very often that those I am closest to are the most different from me. And we need to celebrate these differences. Because it takes five completely different fingers to make a fist. It takes seven completely different colours to make a rainbow. It takes billions of completely different people to make the world go round. Differences are the only escape we have from the normal, the mundane. And believe it or not, what makes us the most different from the rest is what brings us closest together.

Exhausted!

No... I'm not running tired. I've just exhausted all the praise that I could possibly have for the Indian cricket team! After all the speculation ('QOTD - Can India lift the World Cup? SMS Your answer to some-blessed-number-which-will-give-our-channel-tons-of-money'), strategising and whatnot, India is out of the Cricket World Cup 2007. (At this juncture, a fervent follower of cricket might point out that India CAN still get into the Super 8s if Bermuda beats Bangladesh. To which I reply, yes, just as pigs CAN fly to Mars and back in an our in their underwear!)
It's funny really. I've waited four years for this tourney. (Okay, three-and-a-half, maybe. It took a good six months for the shock of the previous WC final to wear off.) Initially, I thought that the worst thing about this WC was the fact that the timings wouldn't suit us Indian viewers. Now, however, that is the thing I've come to appreciate the most. Because I can avoid the whole thing much easier this way. There's this sad air that hangs over the tournament now. Think about it. Starting (and moving in ascending order of sadness) straight from Brett Lee's injury (which upset me a little), India getting belted by Bangladesh, Inzy's low profile retirement, India getting belted by Sri Lanka, Australia belting competition in all their matches and Bob Woolmer's death (which now increasingly looks like Bob Woolmer's murder). And adding to the really sad things are these annoyances. Like ads showing products being endorsed by cricketers (which are not all that bad usually, but can irritate me to no end when the cricketers in question play the way they did), Charu Sharma's wannabe Harsha Bhogle act, Mandira Bedi's... heck, everything about Mandira Bedi and SET's horrible tendency to chop off the telecast before the commentators finish their sentences and put in three ads per break.
That's the horrible thing about cricket. The Indian team is fairly good at it. (Before you stone me, rewind two weeks and read the papers.) They give us a hope and then drop our hopes down from a mile-high window. It's so much better to watch hockey, where either (a) The tournament is international, and India has no hope anyway, or (b) the tournament is an in-country league, and you can rest assured that an Indian team can win at least that way! Or football. Here, I can completely eliminate the tension to be suffered while supporting the national team, since I'm not entirely aware of the existence of one. Or, even better, tennis. You know that the furthest Sania is going is the second round in any given tournament. Also, out of the 20 or so people that stand a decent chance of winning any tournament, I support about 18. Or maybe I should just be like my sister and switch loyalties throughout the match in all sports, supporting whoever has the instantaneous upper hand.
As my blog entry probably suggests, this is the closest I've been to depression. And, my dad reminds me, it's all Indira Gandhi's fault. How, you ask? Well, she created Bangladesh!

Hats Off!

I know there are going to be plenty of articles/blog entries popping up worldwide about India's brilliant performance yesterday, so I'll just cut out the stuff about how much India sucked and how fantastic Bangladesh was and all. You can read about that elsewhere.
I've always been a glass half full type, so I'll throw in a little tribute to the Indian cricket team. For all those who didn't see the Ireland vs. Pakistan match, you really missed something. And that's where my story starts.
Disgusted with Team India's performance, I began to see the Pak vs. Irl match. (A little note here - us Indians are so self centred as far as cricket is concerned that we actually had two whole channels telecasting the same horrible match in which India got belted, and needed a third channel for the second match!) That match gave me a great feeling 'cause not only had Pakistan put up a lower score than India, but also had done it against a lower ranked, non-test-playing nation! As I was watching, I realised that Umar Gul was giving the poor little Irish batsman a mouthful every follow through. As more and more Pakistani bowlers came up to bowl, I realised that, in an Andre Nel-esque manner, most were either sledging or giving these really filthy stares or spitting in front of the batsmen or something of the sort. And I kept switching channels to see our match, and to the best of my knowledge, no Indian bowler did that. (This might also be due to the fact that I see all Indian cricketers through rose tinted glasses, but I really didn't notice anything of the sort.) And then I felt very warmed.
Our bowlers are not only more experienced than the Bangladeshi batsman, but also older (and I think this makes a huge difference). We could easily have made them feel unhinged by sledging and made our job a lot easier. But we didn't. In a very similar situation, the Pakistani bowlers just lost all control. Which got me thinking.
You win some, you lose some. Some days, you'll belt a team ranked way above you, others you'll lose to teams ranked way below you. It's all a part of sport. And life. Some days you're the windshield, others, you're the insect. The important thing being that you don't lose your dignity no matter what. India might've lost the match yesterday, but our players walked out with our dignity firmly intact. And for that, hats off to them!

Another One Bites The Dust!

Another set of tests, that is. I think I've barely had time to post since college started again. Second sem, is therefore only one post old. (Yikes, I know that ain't saying much, it's MY blog!) And the first set of internals is already done. And I feel kinda good because last sem, I slogged my behind off for the first internals, but pretty much loafed this sem. That is obviously taking a toll on my marks, but for some reason I'm not too bothered. Perhaps it's because I've realised that no matter how well I do in internals, VTU is going to make my life miserable with the externals anyway!
Amongst other activities - renaming and organising some 500 new mp3s, reading a little bit of Wodehouse, seeing the World Cup (Hoo Haa India! Aa-yaa India!!!), following American Idol, babying my little niece.
And that, my friends, is the sum total of all that is blog-worthy in my life.

Busy-ness...

I know that isn't a word but that's the closest I can get to describing my life over the past two weeks. First, college started. Which in itself was a huge step up from the previous utterly jobless week. And, the Bangalore Open (oops... I can almost hear my sister correcting me - "Sony Ericsson International 2007, Bangalore") came to town again. Missed it last year on account of board exams the next day, and wasn't going to do that again! Thanks to free passes, I think I attended the tourney every day (including qualifiers!) except on the Wednesday, and I enjoyed the whole thing thoroughly. [In case you haven't heard me showing off already, my sister was a ball girl at the open!] I learnt a lot of things at the tournament, actually. I saw the entire stadium get a complete facelift. I saw foodstalls being set up. I learnt that the 55 rupee tickets actually gave a much better view of the match than the 165 rupee tickets. (Of course, the 275 rupee tickets gave the awesomest views!) But the most ... I dunno, surprising? Shocking? Interesting? ... thing I learnt is that Sania Mirza is highly unpopular. Not only with the officials, linespeople and ball kids (here, unpopular is an understatement!) but with the general public as well. And it's realy no wonder. Because besides her overrated game, she's got a terrible attitude. All the ball kids at the open were called for a tennis clinic with the players. Apparently, the Uberoi sisters were extremely extremely sweet to the kids (to the extent that they actually asked to be called by their nicknames, and kept giving high-fives to the ones that played well!). Basically, all the players that were there (Santangelo, Kostanic-Tosic, Obziler, the whole enchilada) were really sweet to the kids, except Sania. [My sister reminds me to say she was really sweet whenever the cameras were rolling.] She even showed the finger to one kid during a match! Lol... Sania or not, all of us loved that week!
And then, back to college in full swing. Before I realised it, tests are just around the corner! (12th of March - almost the ides of March!!!) So before you grumble about how infrequently I update my blog, do remember all that I've been doing!

Old Soul!

I was watching American a couple of weeks back and Simon Cowell told one of the auditioning girls that she had an 'old soul', that even though she was just seventeen, she looked like someone straight out of the sixties. I really didn't pay too much attention to this comment till about a week and a half later.
We were driving down the road when I saw this huge poster advertising that someone or the other was slated to perform in Bangalore in a month or so. Again. (Bangalore just seems to have these artistes, both international and Indian, swooping down here all the time!) And, as always, I didn't have any inclination to see that performance. "Why don't any of my favourite artistes come to town???", I cried out loud. I began to name a few that I'd love to see performing - the Beatles, Louis Armstrong, Ella Fitzgerald, Dean Martin, Frank Sinatra, Jim Reeves... By which time, it struck me that all the above mentioned had one thing in common - they were dead. (Or atleast partly dead, i.e., the Beatles.) Trust my luck!
Then Simon's words came back to me in a rush. I thought it over. I realised that I too have an old soul! Here are the symptoms:

• As already illustrated, I love old music. The older, the better. And this applies for Western as well as Indian music. Because I've been brought up on a diet of my parent's music, and have always loved these songs. They are absolutely timeless!
• I also love old movies. My uncle sent across a few classic movies for my grandad to watch. He hasn't had the time to watch any of them as yet, but I've made sure I've seen them! I was mentioning to a friend the other day that I'd just seen a Bing Crosby film that afternoon which I absolutely loved. He hadn't even heard of Bing Crosby! And the film was so ancient that you could barely see or hear what was going on in certain scenes. But I loved it all the same. There's a charm about these films that you just can't find in newer ones.
• I love the clothes they used to wear back then. I really do. I wish there were more shops around selling plaid skirts and Beach Boys shirts and poodle skirts. I still live a large part of my life in capris. (Some of my friends have already been unlucky enough to see my tie-and-dye peace hippie-ish tee!)
• And lastly, a lot of my ideas seem to be quite old fashioned. I personally don't find anything old about them but a lot of people find my ideas quite funny. I'm very often told to 'grow up' or that I 'now live in the 21st century - it's high time your ideas grew a litlle more modern'. But the fact of the matter is that that's just the way I am. Call me old fashioned and I'll say thank you!
  

Maybe someday I'll grow out of it. But I hope I don't. I've heard my parents talk so much about the 'good old days' and I used to scoff at them. But I now realise that some of the stuff that the Stone Age had to offer are far better than their counterparts today.

Prah-per End Of Exams!

So exams finally got over three days back. And, as I had suspected, I have absolutely no inclination to write a long blog entry. (During exams, I longed for the day I would be free so that I could come online and post a nice long 'un. Now, I'm just too lazy and the prospect of typing out a nice, large post isn't really appealing!)
I'm getting to do something I haven't done for a long time - nothing. I've been painting (though you'll see that my 'paintings' don't even resemble art!), seeing TV (American Idol and a few movies - Happy Feet, Lost in Translation, John Tucker Must Die, The Devil Wears Prada, RV: The Runaway Vacation), sitting at the comp (designing a slam book for my sister, continuing setting a quiz that I started ages ago), sleeping upto 10 hours a day, reading good ol' Wodehouse and, most importantly, sleeping!
If anyone is grimacing after reading this absolutely-of-no-substance blog entry, let me tell you that's the essence of my activities over the last few days. Absolutely of no substance!

End Of Exams... Sorta...

Sigh... This is one of those things that I regret having to write about but I have to...
For the past two weeks, I've been telling myself that on the last day of exams, I'll write a huge blog entry (and I've actually composed most of it in my head!). Well, that fateful day is here. But, unfortunately, the blog entry isn't. Because I've just checked my mail after a gap of about 3 weeks, and I've had about 150 non-junk e-mails to deal with. So at the end of it all, I only have the energy to type a tiny account of exams so far.
Chem-> Okay. Not too bad. Although if I do pass this exam, I'll never have to take Chem again, so that's a good thing. (For all the people who like chem and are wondering why on earth I'm happy to leave it, I used to like chem too. And THEN there was Engineering Chemistry. For all those who like Engineering Chemistry - one question. HOW???)
Comp-> Idiotic paper. Didn't really learn anything new.
Math-> Best of the lot. Having only Calculus (okay, mainly Calculus) to look forward to in a Math paper is truly amazing. Muahahaha! No more Commercial Arithmetic for me!
Electronics-> Sucked to the core. I was doubly upset because of the fact that Electronics is going to be my major subject in the coming years. Got my fingers crossed, though!
(Environ)Mental Studies-> L&lol! Hardly an exam! More of a joke. My sister cracked the paper and she hasn't even seen the text book!
So now all that's left are the practical exams - Chem, Comp and CAD. Will write more after exams are PROPERLY over. Till then, it's adios from me!
P.S. Australian Open: Nadal def. Wawrinka 6-2, 6-2, 6-2! EPL: Liverpool 2 - 0 Chelsea! Can this be the build-up to a grand win for India against the Windies??? We'll just have to wait and watch!

Not A Great Day...

Today has not been the greatest day in my life...
(a) Rafael Nadal just lost at the semis of Chennai Open to Xavier Malisse.
(b) India got belted by SA hence losing the series (after being 1-0 up!!!!!)
(c) Exams in 4 days.
The way things are going, it can mean only one thing. Liverpool is going to lose today. Aargh! Oh ye football Gods, give us Liverpool fans something to cheer about!!! I can't take another loss today!!!
Somewhere in this blog lies the word 'exams'. I shall write more often after those!