The True Emotions Over A Fake Cup

You know, 12 years from now, when my kid can understand cricket, she/he is going to ask me “Dad what were you doing when India won the WC in style?” I know I have ruined it for her/him with my “Eh.. Umm..I was travelling in flight from Guwahati to Chennai”. Now my kid will then go on to become Poppit World Champion or the lord of Farmville with no trace of Cricket! I might just save it by saying “Hey, if it means anything, the cup was a fake.. (stupid grin)”

I tried to reconstruct my actions after listening to India win ball by ball over phone at the Airport. First came the screaming announcement that I made at baggage (ironically) conveyor. Then a jig that left a couple of impressionable audience scarred for life. Then discussed non-stop with a poor taxi driver on the defining moments of WC (much to his frustration, what with his leave application denied). Finally caught the images that matter the most as soon as I reached home – over and over again!

After promising myself, I will not talk about Leadership, Team Dynamics et all, thanks to the over eager media who should have left it to us – Its beyond words to describe what an achievement this is! I mean, we WON! Despite the Nehras, Chawlas and Sreesanths! In Style! This bunch has managed to capture the dreams of the billion and make it a reality after struggling to win against Ireland and Netherland! It was almost as if it was scripted by the richest country in ICC!

Watching MSD smash the six and react, I almost got reminded of his innings against the hapless Kings XI Punjab in the last league game of IPL3. With adrenaline pumping, the images were so similar, only this time it was the entire billion who were jumping in joy. (More on MSD) A crying Yuvraj, yet another similarity, but then again, this is a whole different context. Virat Kohli became an overnight hero due to his smart statement to media that touched a chord with all the Sachin fans.

Of course after this every one of those cricketers is crores richer, but then again, I don’t mind! Except when my grandmom, after looking at my PGDM degree from IIMS shed tears of happiness and said, “Had you been a cricketer, you wouldn’t need all this, no?”  

Knowing BCCI, the next step would be to organize a 50 over IPL format and create one more Lalit Modi. But hey, when Sharadh Pawar can be responsible for Anti-Corruption, I would gladly let Lalit Modi take on the reins of IPL and make it grand! I even forgive them for pocketing the 15lakhs and giving away the fake cup and then paying 25 lakhs to cover it up!

For the obscene amount of money Nike has spent on India, I will say, We Bleed Blue! Although I’m just extremely proud and happy we won! Yayyyyyyyyyyyy! Pride that will be carried into every tournament for the next 2 years (or till India gets its ass kicked real bad) 

Go India! 

The Finish Line

Since my last blog 3 months back, I have kind of changed as a person. Nothing Marlyn Mason type, just a few minor adjustments to prep me up for the post B-School world. Given the scariness of the place outside and the 2 years that were supposed to equip me for the battle, its time to set things right.

Everybody says it’s a rat race out there. Then shouldn’t the one who breaks the rope at the finish be the toughest and the meanest rat? I always wondered what they were racing for. In a B-School, especially an IIM, everyone runs more out of the fear of being left out than reaching the destination.

If it were the grades that people were worried about, then I can safely assure you, in a small institute like ours it did not matter. The happiest people were those who did not worry about the grades. Given the fact, whims and fancies of ‘business’ people with egos can influence your grades; they never are an indicator of a person’s acumen. So the race was not for the grades.

Pay checks maybe? I don’t think it mattered much. People have been sensible enough to prioritize what they wanted and at the end of the day everybody is happy (I hope).  And nobody I knew was eyeing what the other person should not get, if you know what I mean. So I guess it was pretty much every man for himself and the ‘race’ as such was inconsequential. More like a game of Koko.

Whatever it was, when we just finished a dress rehearsal for the convocation parade today, I realized none of it matters. We rehash the memories of the awesome batch we had, the people who we will miss, the last tryst with education for most and the legacy we are required to uphold. I know every batch of every B-School thinks they are special, but not many batches get recognized as special by the admin, juniors, faculty et all. We didn’t need any validation – the Awesome 66. I guess the real winning at this stage is the fact that we were together at the finish line.

The long nights of bakar, TT room, the group presentations, ‘situations’ and open houses,  politics, impromptu presentations, classroom nautankis, long walks, 3am maggi – without these, the lifestyle seems a tad boring! Heck, I even went to the library the last 2 days, place I had hardly gone the last 2 years!

 As I move ahead to my dream career, I will dearly miss some of the most amazing people anyone will ever meet, who are destined for glory and greatness. As I try to steal moments the last few days to relive every single aspect of this great journey, I know memories are all I will have. Wonderful journey with the wonderful people – Blessed! 

So much for brevity!

Special mention: A huge thanks to PGP10 for making the last month or so, so memorable for us and the hell awesome yearbook J All the best!

Roundup!

Filter coffee. Period. Maybe a dog at your feet too! Home cooked food to that. Well I managed to reach home in a AC car paying 350Rs for 10kms, did some shopping to find out Onions have touched 100Rs per kg(!!!) and to my horror wrote in Tamil after years! Anyways, this blog is not about any of those.

Old Shoes served well!

This blog is my yearly roundup – a decade’s actually! ( has come after I ditched 2 blogs on Airports and Capitalism!) Now, let’s see. There have been just so many highs and lows that you tend to agree with the zero sum game. But if you take memories, highs win hands down! I guess it’s got to do with the people in your life. Chennai, Vellore, Bangalore, Shillong, Trichy, Mumbai – I’ve been lucky (touchwood). As I enter the new decade I will have my hopes high for the rest of my life.

New Shoes for the journey ahead

Cricketing glory is not as memorable when it is listed from a historian’s perspective. The Eden test during my 10^th board exam, the India-Pak WC encounter a day before my physics class XII board, SA’s chase of 400+ that we caught panting after running all the way from Dhaba, India’s T20 glory from my small apartment in Bangalore with friends, CSK win over RCB I saw in Bangalore stadium in IPL 1, Sachin’s 200 in Shillong common room, CSK’s IPL 3 victory in Mumbai while I was a minority supporter in my own group - you see, that makes more sense to me J India is now the number 1 test team and number 2 ODI team! Awesome decade of Indian Cricket.

Of the cities – Bangalore is a close 2nd. I guess it had to do with independence, my own bike and awesome company (pun intended). But nothing beats Chennai. Just to prove a point this is the first time in Chennai I attended Kutchery and all that too proactively J Somehow am at the juncture where I’m trying to connect back to the Chennai in its essence though all these years I’ve taken it for granted.  As a traveller though I loved Chikmagalore, Gokharna, Mangalore, Bikel, Cherapunji, , Mawlyngon, Shillong and Mumbai – all made special by the people I had by my side. As Calvin says nature seems so stupid and boring without a furry friend by your side.

From a class X serious guy from a place that google earth did not show to an IIM guy from a place whose roads still don’t show on google earth the road travelled is pretty much like a road laid by the municipal department – supposedly smooth but full of holes and speed breakers. As I sit across tables with people from different periods of my life (not by any means out), I mirror the changes in/of/with time.

Paddu still speaks with sound effects, Ninja still goes all Gary, Mani still sounds all philosophical and Joe still calls me a posterior cavity. Life is good with the cards I’ve been dealt with. As I said, I’ve been lucky. Never mind the few hic-cups, wrong turns and falls that caught me unaware. Everything has played a part in making me what I am (As my friend once said “Stop blaming them”)

From a glorious time: Life is like a game of cards. You don’t always start with a royal flush. Hence it is natural that you might drop some formative sets or pass on some possible winners. But at the end if you continue on, you are definitely going to end up a winner as you are the only one playing your life.

Happy New Year to All! Entering 2011 with hopes and dreams. 

Diary entry blog

Dear Diary,

You know I’ve hated Diary entries, especially when it used to come as 10 marks question in Section B of English in class X. But somehow, I felt you must be remembered in the times of lost blogs and tweeple people.  It would also serve to write something understandable for the benefit of anonymous commenter, who asked me to do so over maggi after my last blog.

Other than the fact that I got your spelling mixed with the milk products and that I never used to get you in the same year, I’ve never thought much of you. Probably cos thanks to all the chic flicks, diary is seen girly! Yes, I have wondered why would people blabber a lot of personal things to you. I guess It is much easier to get you to listen to one’s life story than another human being (unless you are Rakhi Sawant, in which case you get high TRP). I must tell you, some of the professors, do their life story in class holding us hostage!

After computers and laptops, lot of people have stopped writing in the conventional sense.  Of course there are blogs, lengthy emails to dear ones, facebook notes and of course personal MS Word and MS Onenote. But the train of thoughts seem to go to the exhibitionist Shatabdi express (flowery words and high end) than the regular trains. Atleast for me this is true. I can’t make the good old grammatical mistakes without someone pointing it out.

Inspired by the books I read before I came to IIM, I thought I would write a book on my life at IIM that would serve as a guiding light for future people (roflmao). Well now, If I do write, it will be categorised under thriller genre (with a 18+ rating, if it can exist) with flying swear words, over the head lectures, politics, deception, scandals and not to forget mind numbing PJs! (I was just trying a movie voice over – it’s actually awesome) So much for my writing dreams!

Enough of me and writing, lets talk about you. The consultant in me (note the professional air), believes that you should reinvent yourself. The embossed leather covers are pretty much out-dated in the times of iPads and Palmtops.  I saw a pretty cool evolution of your species launched by happily unmarried (cool place.. TIC stuff). To be honest that was the reason I thought I should write a diary entry.  

I just imagined Barkha Dutt, Vir Sanghvi, Raja et all having diary entries that are exposed! I’m sure they have a lot of dear diary moments!

Anyways, I don’t think I will run out of people who I can bug. So I will just remember you this once. Welcome to the world of blogs.

Adios,

Me

You’d rather not be wearing..

Although it can be completed in a 100 ways and at least 70 of them would raise a few eyebrows, I’m happy writing about the remaining 30. Each paragraph has no direct relevance to the next.

Last 2 months, I’ve learnt a lot. The most important lesson being - how to shoot at someone who outdrew you. No learnt would be wrong cos then it would mean I would be able to do it.  Probably it’s the effect of philosophical classes or the cynicism that loads of bullshit can give you, I never felt it was worth the public medium. But then public medium – the new age weapon for love and war and everything in between.

I remember a conversation some years back on selflessness and greater good. At that point of time, I assumed the characters in mega serials my mom watches, are extremely unreal. My point then was, there was a basic goodness in people and hence selflessness is an attribute possible. Though it was disproved within the next 6 months, I refused to change my premise. I changed my premise.

To the Ravana camp, the monkeys were vandals and Ram the enemy. I try to convince myself that I like challenges and that I’m basically good. I’m convinced and so are some. But perceptions, you can’t be accountable. I, till date can’t smile at a person who I am not comfortable with! So much for two faced!

Being opinionated is like wetting your bed. You demand your ideas be debated not dismissed, howsoever irritated you are. Well, you can cry all you want, but you are still gonna have a wet bottom if someone doesn’t change.

You need to quash a bug when its still crawling around. Let it grow and you would not be able to stop it from biting your back. Endurance is not a characteristic but a lack of option.

I remember reading in class XI the lesson called “Olympic Gold” from the autobiography of Ali. (if anyone can find a e-book of it, I would be grateful). The line I recalled was ‘It felt like being at the receiving end of a 100 punches without returning a single one’. I somehow wondered how it would be. I shouldn’t have. It feels like this blog.

To complete my sentence – “You’d rather not be wearing your emotions on your sleeve”