Best friends

There was a touching tale I’d read ages ago that has left an undying impression on me. Although a little childlike and simple, it throws light on the inescapable reality- the choices, helplessness and destiny of humans.

There were two vagabonds Sam and Mike, the best of friends, who struggled to earn two square meals a day. Miserable and always depressed, they want a change in fortunes. Mike is so desperate that he would not hesitate to apply wrong means, morally or otherwise, to heal his deprivation. He therefore tries to convince his friend for them to be a part of small crimes. But Sam would not sell himself. Mike thus wants to part forever, but on Sam’s request, he agrees to meet him on the same spot, the forked road, twenty years hence.

Sam moves on. Sad, hurt and hungry, he fails to avoid an accident with a carriage. He is taken to hospital and provided treatment. The owner of that carriage is a hugely rich businessman, kind at heart, and childless. For a few months till Sam recovers, the couple takes care of him and grows attached to him, and decides to adopt him as their son. After a few years the couple dies. Sam is now richer beyond his wildest dreams.

It is five minutes to twenty years that he is travelling in his own carriage with a casket in hand, a smile on his face and tears in his eyes. He is about to meet his best friend after twenty long years. Suddenly, a robber stops the carriage and tells him to hand over all that he’d got. Sam uses his mind. Just as he is about to handover the casket to the robber, he drops it.

Clang! The policeman nearby is alerted and the robber caught.

Sam smiles and says, “I cannot part with this casket. It belongs to my friend whom I shall be meeting after twenty years.”

“Sam…Sam…is that you? It’s me, Mike…Oh, what a long journey I’ve had...won’t you hear my tale?”

“What! Release this man at once, constable.”

“The day we parted, searching for opportunities late night, I stumbled upon a gang of thieves, which was trying various ways to enter a house through the bars of a window. I was skinny enough, so the gang tempted me to do the job for them. I was able to fit myself through those bars. That was the beginning of my journey. I soon became a part of an anti-social gang.”

“But why? …You know God has been so kind to me that now I’m a rich man.” He then tells him the story of his life.

“Mike, I wanted to share my good fortune with you. Please keep it.” He hands over the casket to Mike.

“I’m not worthy of being your friend,” Mike says with a smile on his face and hands it back. “I shall meet you again only if I find myself capable of it. Here again, ten years hence, or maybe never.”

And both part ways again.

Delhi treats itself to Formula 1 delight

Veins pulsed threateningly as the mean machines of Renault scorched Rajpath and left Delhiites spellbound in an amazing extravaganza of maddening race stunts and blinding velocity during the 4-hour long Renault Roadshow on Sunday. As Formula 1 driver Nelson Piquet Jr. and test driver Lucas di Grassi managed more than 300 kilometres per hour in less than 8 seconds, eyeballs popped out to catch the deafening sound and the blur of vision from as close as possible.

The beautifully decorated Rajpath was not exactly thronged by visitors at the start, but as the show warmed up through Indian army skydivers (we witnessed the number of crows in the sky increasing due to it), Mahindra Renault Logans, crisp commentary and music, quite a large crowd gathered all eager to witness the unknown. Renault sports cars, including the Megane Trophy driven by Julian Piquet, whizzed past the stunned enthusiasts as unbelievable drifting manouvers and 360 degrees spinning were done effortlessly.

At around 2:15pm India watched live the first Formula 1 car, and though it was only a preview, people had by now gone crazy. The real Formula 1 spectacle was seen a little later when di Grassi drove, zigzagged, revolved and spun his car cruelly fast
to the delight and amazement of everyone. The best part was set for the last when present Renault Formula 1 driver Nelson Piquet Jr. drove his R-27 and set the path on fire. These wondrous machines could reach speeds of 100 kilometres-an-hour in just 2 seconds, 200 kilometres-an-hour in just 4.5 seconds and totally halt from 300 kilometres-an-hour in just 4 seconds. The smoke and majestic sound had filled the air, bringing the traffic around the area to a standstill.

However, it was Terry Grant, the famous Hollywood stunt director, who captured all imagination with his impossible stunts. In one of them, spinning his car at all angles, he revolved it endlessly at the intersection of the road when amidst all of this he came out of the car, did a namaste to the crowd, and even got down of the car for a few moments to let it revolve amazingly on its own.
Then, he also made the car move like a remote control toy as he showed amazing control to manouver it in between two girls standing less than two metres away.

For all lovers of speed and racing in Delhi, and for all the ignorant ones present at the event too, this was an experience of a lifetime. Formula 1 is not a common sport in India, and the objective of this initiative by the French team was not only the potential market, but also to draw more people into this sport before it finally arrives in India. Yet, one seriously doubts whether the average Indian public would perceive it to be more than just a tamasha.

New era of Formula 1

Journey through the year of another fabulously intense championship

The year 2008 will go down in books as a hugely significant year in the history of Formula 1. The first ever night race being held and the crowning of the youngest and the first black driver meant the shackles were broken. As we witnessed yet another cliff-hanger of a finish, we also went through a lot of drama, misfortune, joy and sorrow of teams and individuals throughout the season, which added immensely to the aura of it all.

Fernando Alonso’s return back to Renault meant that Heikki Kovaleinen became the new partner of wonder boy Lewis Hamilton. It all started with disappointment for Ferrari, who could not have a dream start at the Australian GP, which was won by Hamilton, but they bounced back in Sepang, and as a team from then it was dancing horses all the way. Apart from the frontrunners, it was Robert Kubica, who in his BMW Sauber generated a lot of attention for his brilliant performances, such that with the season’s first phase over, the championship fight looked tight with Hamilton, defending champion Raikkonen, Massa and Kubica all within three points of each other and firmly in the running.

In the Canadian grand prix, Kubica led a historic one-two to take his and team’s first win and the lead of the championship. This happened after a disastrous incident in which Hamilton ran into the back of Kimi Raikkonen’s Ferrari at the end of the pit lane as the Finn sat at a red light waiting for the safety car to pass. Nico Rosberg made the same mistake and both he and Hamilton were given grid penalties for the next round. The incident consigned all three drivers to an early retirement. Massa excels in France and Hamilton overcomes wet-weather conditions to win in front of his home crowd at Silverstone. Exhausted but happy, the British driver described it as ‘the toughest win of my career’.

At the top of the drivers’ table it was even closer, with Hamilton, Massa and Raikkonen tied at the top and Kubica just two points adrift. And just as their on-track skirmishes heated up, Ferrari and McLaren officially drew an end to their off-track hostilities over the 2007 spy scandal-the alleged spying by McLaren to receive secrets of Ferrari machinery.
In the Valencia circuit, Massa moved ahead of Raikkonen in the points table with a clinical display.

Belgian Grand Prix was a disaster for Raikkonen when, while coming first, he crashed dramatically with two laps to go, reminding us all of the similar incident which happened at Nurburgring in 2005. It was a bitter blow to his title hopes as Massa took second position, but inherited the win for Hamilton’s alleged hand in Raikkonen’s misfortune, and opened up a 17-point gap over his team mate and title holder. In Italy, Kubica is the biggest beneficiary as Vettel stuns the top guns with a maiden win for Red Bull. The Pole finished third behind Kovalainen, while Massa’s sixth place put him just one point shy of Hamilton, who took seventh. Raikkonen was again out of the points in ninth.

The special moment finally arrived when the first ever night race took place at Singapore. Under lights, the track and scenery had an amazingly attractive look to it. It was won by Fernando Alonso, who finally got back up there and displayed his magic, the same magic which won him the Championships of 2005 and 2006, especially the latter year in which he denied Schumacher a fairy tale end to his career. Hamilton was the only title contender to gain out of this race with a third-place finish.
Alonso followed it up with another win, Kubica taking the second position to get back in the hunt. Raikkonen ended his points drought but by this time, it was far too late.

The season’s penultimate race was dominated by Hamilton, with Massa coming second and Kubica with a disappointing sixth-place finish. All eyes were now on the final race, which promised to go right down to the wire like last year.

Local boy Felipe Massa drove his heart out to almost achieve the impossible and seize the Championship from the hands of Lewis Hamilton, who snatched fifth place by the skin of his teeth, thus becoming the youngest and the only black driver in the history of Formula 1 to be the World Champion. But as Massa took the chequered flag, Hamilton was denied the Championship as he was coming sixth, but then dramatically, he overtook a slowing Timo Glock at the end of the final corner and broke the hearts of all Brazilians out there.

An amazing professional that he is, Hamilton was the deserved winner of the season. Differences with double World Champion Fernando Alonso and the last race disaster were chapters from his rookie season he never wanted to repeat. His endurance and patience finally paid off for him when at long last Lady Luck smiled. Future looks bright as the history is created- the first driver of Black origin has won a Formula 1 Championship.
At the age of ten, he had approached McLaren team principal, Ron Dennis, at an awards ceremony and told him "I want to race for you one day". Needless to say, Ron Dennis will be proud of him.

Jumbo decides to land

The flawless star of Indian cricket calls it a day without much ado, the same way he has been taking countless wickets his entire career. As cricket lovers from all over the world deal with the shock of his sudden retirement and shower praises on him, Anil Kumble can be proud to look back on the 18 years of unheeded yet selfless service to the nation and sport, for being the perfect cricketer in many ways in these days of ugliness which has crept in our most loved sport.

Only some of us can sparsely remember the bespectacled 20 year old taking his first wicket of his then unknown career as an Indian spinner against England at Manchester in 1990, inducing an edge from the bat of Alan Lamb. As the world gasped to notice a dazzling Sachin Tendulkar in that decade, this man kept on silently taking bucketful of wickets. He became the fastest Indian then to take 50 wickets in just 10 Test matches, and the second fastest to reach 100 wickets in just 21 matches. On 27 November 1993, he took 6 wickets for 12 runs in an ODI to blow away the Windies at Eden Gardens , a new record for the best bowling figures by an Indian, one that remains unbeaten till date.

Against Pakistan in 1999, he bamboozled the Pakistani batsmen at the Kotla, which has been his happy hunting ground, taking 10 wickets in the fourth innings to win India the game, thereby becoming the second bowler in Test cricket history to achieve the feat. At the start of the 21st Century, he underwent a career threatening shoulder surgery, but still never paused. Like a dentist armed with a drill, he kept on probing at the best of batsmen. Once he had a victim on his chair, nothing escaped his attention.

His dedication for the game, the team and for the nation came to the fore during the Antigua Test in 2002, in which he arrived to bowl with a bandaged face after he had fractured his jaw. The most hard-working student of the game, as a spinner Kumble was India ’s best bet and his service was taken for granted. Yet he did not complain. Only about a year ago, when Dravid stepped down as the captain, he was widely perceived to have been offered captaincy only for holding the fort till successful glamour boy Dhoni was seen as able. However, the Bangalorean took it as an opportunity to develop Indian cricket for making it the numero uno in World cricket, when in November last year he presented three-page note to his mates, a stated vision that he believed could serve as guidelines for future generation of cricketers.

During the tour Down Under last year, which he has claimed to be the toughest, he reached 600 wickets, the third bowler in the World to do so, which was perhaps the final feather on his cap.

One of the most selfless and dedicated sons of the game, he has dealt with his entire career in an amazingly matured and professional manner. He was never the poster boy of Indian cricket, and has never got appropriate recognition for his performances and service. But that has not bothered him, and it tells immensely of the type of personality that he is. To many, he is one of the greatest cricketers in the World not just because of his records, but because of his spotless character and dignified persona. He will be sorely missed.

Brazilian Heart break at Interlagos

Lewis could not lose it this time.

It was a real cliff-hanger of an end. Local boy Felipe Massa drove his heart out to almost achieve the impossible and seize the Championship from the hands of Lewis Hamilton, who snatched fifth place by the skin of his teeth, thus becoming the youngest and the only black driver in the history of Formula 1 to be the World Champion.

As the first five drivers Massa , Renault’s Fernando Alonso, Ferrari’s Kimi Raikkonen, Hamilton and Toro Rosso’s Sebastian Vettel pitted for wet tyres due to rain at the closing stages, Timo Glock, running sixth for Toyota , did not. Hamilton came behind Glock at fifth place, which was still good enough for him. However, history was about to repeat itself when Hamilton fell sixth behind Sebastian Vettel on the 70th lap, as he made a crucial mistake and slid wide. It was a desperate situation as he needed at least a fifth-place finish to take the crown. As Massa took the chequered flag, Hamilton was only sixth and the Brazilian was the winner. However, tables were turned when at the end of the final corner Timo Glock of Toyota slowed down, struggling for grip on his increasingly unsuitable rubber. It was all Hamilton required as he took the fifth position at the end and broke the hearts of millions of Brazilians in the stands. The Briton would have had his heart in his mouth when painful memories of last year came to the fore for a few moments.

Hamilton last year too had had a favourable advantage, of four and seven points from his then teammate Fernando Alonso and Kimi Raikkonen respectively, coming into the final race. But it was a miserable end for him as he only managed a 7th position, after a horrible mistake which plunged him to the 18th position at a point of time in the race. Raikkonen won the Championship by a solitary point.

"Before it started to rain I was quite comfortable, and I was just focused on having a clean race,” said Hamilton . “Then it started to drizzle and I didn't want to take any risks - but Sebastian got past me and I was told that I had to get back in front of him. I couldn’t believe it. Then at the very last corner I managed to get past Timo - it was just amazing. This was one of the toughest races of my life, if not the toughest. I was shouting, ‘Do I have it? Do I have it?’ on the radio. It was only when I took the chequered flag and got to Turn One that the team told me I was world champion. I was ecstatic."

An amazing professional that he is, he was the deserved winner of the season. Differences with double World Champion Fernando Alonso and the last race disaster were chapters from his rookie season he never wanted to repeat. His endurance and patience finally paid off for him when at long last Lady Luck smiled. Future looks bright as the shackles are broken- the first driver of Black origin has won a Formula 1 Championship.
At the age of ten, he had approached McLaren team principal, Ron Dennis, at an awards ceremony and told him "I want to race for you one day". Needless to say, Ron Dennis will be proud of him.

The ideal principle

October 2nd is more than a special day for all of us all around the globe. This is the day the man who showed us Indians the correct path of righteousness and humanity in fighting the cunning British Empire was born, and whose ideas, inspiration and courage left a deep mark in the society of the world. He has led us from darkness to light, and it gives us all a sense of pride to recollect what exactly he has given to us. In this 21st Century, the analysts and the rationalists have criticised his ideals and his personality. People are still at a loss to figure out how Gandhian principles are relevant in today's circumstances.

Richard Attenborough's movie was a beautiful biography of the man, in which his psyche and the positives of his ideals came to the fore in a just manner. He was shown as a true leader of the masses, a man with simple words and highly powerful messages. Striving to be a right analyst, I perceive that his conclusion was that non-violence was the rightest and a most noble way of fighting injustice. This was indeed special since following the principle in the circumstances in those days of freedom struggle was impossibly difficult, and required selfless courage and the greatest mental strength to face its consequences. At a time when Indians were treated as tribals, made to face cruel injustices, and without mercy, non-violence was as good as suicide. Gandhiji realised that the good within all of us cannot be suppressed forever.

The British were also humans. With their cruelties exposed to the world, they were from within beside themselves with shame and regret, yet there were many whose hearts were made of stone-people had no conscience whatsoever. Non-violence and non-cooperation had the greatest power because of its nobility, and had a magical effect. There was a Godly influence to it.

Gandhiji had weaknesses and made mistakes too, which were not in the least hidden in his autobiography.

Around the same time there was another selfless hero, a revolutionary, who chose a different principle for the freedom struggle-Subhash Chandra Bose. This foresighted Bengali was for total violence. He believed that as Indians, we do have every right to engage ourselves in a legal war against our oppressors. This ideology was bold and brave, yet not unnatural or unique. The uniqueness lay in the man's revolutionary character, his superhuman abilities, his belief, conviction and love for motherland. Effectively, he had the greatest potential and means to achieve a dignified independence.

The ideals of both of these men were noble, right and most importantly morally acceptable( apart from Subhash's involvement with Hitler-there he perhaps proved to be politically and morally incorrect). Why history chose the course that it took is beyond our comprehension-neither of them could achieve desired results. Subhash Bose was mysteriously proclaimed to have been killed in an air crash at a crucial juncture, and Gandhiji seemed to be proven too weak to avoid partition. It was as if the British left us with another slap on our face, whose pain is yet to heal. But Gandhiji is nonetheless one of the greats of the world-it is his selfless attitude, his honesty, simplicity and courage which makes him so.

On a reflective note, aren't we in a confusion?With all my present mind and heart, all I can comprehend and conclude is that to win independence, our men chose the same track, but with differences in opinion, boarded different vehicles for it. And every vehicle will have its unique features. Non-violence has its relevance even today, and it is totally upto us individuals to accept or discard it, partially or wholly, or just admire it. There has been a clash of ideals between great men before, but today let us not forget to aknowledge the greatness of the principles of these heroes, and of them (subject to one's own perception).

vaayun

As a sensitive human the story below brought tears to my eyes, which are said to contain leaking taps. Needless to say, Aamir Khan along with Amole Gupte and his colleagues did a national service with his film. This is but a blog comment by one of us fans of the perfectionist in his site. Let us all pray for Reema and her family.
3329. vaayun
Posted on Sep,13,2008 at 09:54 AM
Hi Aamir,

I'm Reema and my son Vaayun is 2 and a half ..He loves you ...I guess it is also genetic as I have been an ardent fan of yours since two decades. vaayun takes you as his bestfriend...teacher....hero...He watches TZP everyday like a prayer..he sings along...copies your steps and actions from the film..he sleeps to the music of the film. This film and you Aamir have helped him heal from his dad's sudden demise. Thanks for creating a master piece aamir ...what you have created is helping and reaching out to children like my son and benefiting them in more ways than we can imagine...Today he told me " mujhe mere friend aamir se baat karni hai..." I hope his desire will be fulfilled. God bless you Aamir !

Bring the change

Ravi was a boy born with unique interests and abilities, which led him into trouble as he grew to adulthood. He was unique because he looked at philosophical side of things- he had gone beyond successes and failures, victories and defeats, money, nation...everything, which often worried his mother. He was just an average student and had no ambitions of choosing a genuine career. His sense of humour was absurd, since he was very foolish. Once he was found sitting on the branch of a tree which he was busy cutting. Needless to say, he was a laughing stock among everyone who knew him, and therefore had only a few friends, but he was never dissatisfied with anything.

In India, people maintain that it is highly essential to slog immensely and score infinitely in the Boards to scrape through admissions in the best institutions- for real success in life. However, Ravi never worked hard and found it hard to cope up with the pressure of performing well for examinations. He had nervous breakdowns and the world was very unkind to him- he gave vent to his frustrations by writing his heart out while pretending to be busy studying. He failed in the Boards and became disinterested in the worldly life. He was looked as a downcast. Often he would peep into the hearts of people to really analyse how our feelings work. Waves of emotions is what fascinated him the most, and kept on writing short stories..then, novels.
He wondered what wrong he had done, for which he was made to punish so severely- never accepted in society. Was he a criminal or a sinner? He couldn't find answers. All the injustices that he had had to face made him a stronger personality and gave him more food for thought. He analysed the strange behaviour of people, and kept on crying, keeping to himself, and writing his heart out. He lived a life of poverty.

After his death, his compositions were published. His name became famous- in fact, he was looked upon as a godly figure.

He redefined life and the purpose of it. The race for profit making, successes and victories, deemed so essential in modern life, was rightly said to be the cause of injustices, pain and negativity in this age. In fact, a life without any kind of success was said to be better, since it involved humility, a virtue so pure. Striving for success, however, is our duty. After our death, only our deeds, good or bad, shall remain with us. Life on earth is a chance for us to make or destroy our soul.

After going through Ravi's work, people said to themselves, " There is nothing new in it. We know all of this."

Inspite of it the mad race continues, the negativity continues, the discrimination among people continues, falsehood continues to dominate society, the world goes on....is there a change?

Cricket

Cricket- a game invented by the British and now followed as a religion in the Indian subcontinent, is not a sport, or should I say, not just a sport...it is beyond that. People say,"Life is sport". But it is the original test cricket which teaches you how to live life. To be a real cricketer, besides acquiring skills and knowledge of rules, one requires the temperament, patience, dedication, hard-work, the cricketing spirit, faith and most of all, joy. It was famously referred to as ' the gentleman's game'- a game, which played in its original way, teaches you to be the perfect human(sounds a little far-fetched, doesn't it?).

Test cricket is a matter of five whole days, in which the team which scores more out of the total of two innings, is the winner- as simple as that! Playing a test match is anything but, when cricketers really have to put their heart and soul into the game 8-hours a day for the duration of the match. However, right from early stages of its history, cricket could never be a global sport. That is primarily because of the complexities of the game, and of course nowadays also due to its consuming a long time. It was a prime sport in its place of birth (England), and spread to its colonies, of which the Indian subcontinent was a part. In India it was played by the royal elites- Ranjisinghji, the magical player of yesteryears also belonged to the princely class. Australia also played this game with utmost passion, as it was a part of British rule till its independence in 1900. In fact, the bilateral series between Australia and England involved immense pride, which, due to a famous incident, was renamed 'The Ashes'. A little later it was a team known as West Indies which announced its arrival in the cricketing world and revolutionised it to a large extent.

India played its first match in 1932 against England, which it lost, but not before creating a few flutters. At present, there are ten countries which are the so-called 'cricketing nations', although in some of these nations the primary sport is not cricket. Australia are the champions but, India, by far is the biggest and the most passionate cricketing nation in the world. There have been nine Cricket World Cups and England, the founder of the game, has not yet won a single one. To make it global, cricket has undergone a lot of changes: in its approach as well as the rules. The traditional test cricket still remains, but 50-over matches and most recently the 20-over format, giving rise to animalistic approach to make it more happening and exciting, has wooed spectators like never before. It no longer remains the gentleman's game, although fragments of it can still be found in the way some cricketers play it. Cricket of today involves instinct, intense sledging, cunningness, innovative ideas and aggression. Australia, especially, has shown us the way. Although the excitement and addiction to the game in the shorter versions, especially the micro-mini form of the game, is unmatchable, it is really disheartening to witness its side-effects spilling over to the original version.

It is indeed a matter of amazement that there are people in the Indian subcontinent who are patrons of cricket in the right way, realising the true value of the original game- the subtleties of the traditional forward defence, the off-drives, the pulls and hooks, the prettiness of seamline bowling: the outswings and the inswings, the value of spending time on the crease....A true cricket-lover would never stop sipping this elixir and value batsmen like VVS Laxman, who have made cricket even more beautiful to watch. Most of the 21st Century greats are more brutally efficient, not pretty really. I do accept the growing unpalatable content not with a heavy heart, as I know there are people in this world who'd bring back the true aura. Life is cricket.

Journalism Hons.

Every person has a story to tell; as people say 'life is a lesson', it can also be viewed as a rollercoaster journey towards achieving our dreams. And it is totally mysterious, no person would have any clue about the events that would take place in his or her life or the reasons for it. When we go through tough phases in our short span of career and life, we look above and find the Almighty smiling at us; when we go through happy and successful phases, we again find Him smiling at us exactly the same way, and then we find the answer-everything in this world happens for good.
Personally, I feel my life has been a largely violent joyride, overwhelming me with omens to realise my dreams(although it may seem quite far-fetched). Unlike others, I hardly knew where my future lay till about a month ago.

My greatly dreaded board exam results were a rude shock to everyone, though I had anticipated this. What troubled me most was the reaction of my supposed well-wishers, for whom success is almost the only criteria of judgement-normally success in academics. All of them expected a lot from me, so for them it was kind of an anti-climax. They weren't frank with their perceptions and largely tried to console without being able to say that their opinion about me had changed. My life fell into turbulence and turmoil soon after, when the cut-offs in my dream colleges soared, and I wasn't able to make up my mind about what undergraduate course I'd pursue.

However, I always knew that everyone on this planet is uniquely special and has one's own place. I had by now understood that I was made for Arts; with such horrible result and with the abolishment of entrance tests for the english hons. course, I was in a terrible fix. When I explored more options, I found out about the entrance tests for journalism hons. There was only one college in which I could effectively apply-out of five colleges in Delhi University offering this as an undergraduate course, three were girls' colleges and one other was too far way from my residence. I applied for DCAC and prayed and hoped that I would be through, for this was the best option for boys. On the day of the entrance test, my eyes popped out of my sockets when looked at the count of candidates-465. There was vacancy for only 20.

Results were declared the same day-I was overjoyed to read my name among the 90 selected for interview. I ate, drank and slept interviews after that, till the d-day arrived. Honestly, I think I was able to express myself really well, and the jury seemed to be impressed- I couldn't help leave a philosophical touch in all my answers and statements(which may or may not have worked in my favour). I was so sure this time that I would get through, but my name wasn't in the initial list. I was asking myself and the stars what went wrong.

I had read one of my Orkut predictions-'Pleasant surprise is in store for you' a few months ago. That surprise came in the form of a letter two weeks ago that informed me about my selection.

In Journalism Hons. at DCAC, I have my rightful place among the so called elites of the college. The college is supposed to have got its reputation largely on the basis of this course, so being a Journo student is prestigious. Now I know that I've entered the right doorway since I've got like-minded students as my classmates-peaceful, friendly and matured; and coupled with the fact that I now have a base to achieve heights in the profession which suits me, its like a dream come true. But over the past few months, I've had lots of ups and downs-in fact, more of downs..so I really do have an idea of the stampedes for admissions and the repurcussions an unsatisfactory Board result may have in a student's career.

I have long been an admirer of people with good values and beautiful minds, regardless of whether they have achieved worldly successes. And I wish I could teach this to people..and well-wishers...

Metro

Right from the time I had arrived in Delhi two years ago, I have been travelling to most of the places through metro. I remember the first month of my stay here-Delhi metro was so new to me, and so fascinating that I actually enjoyed sitting in the same seat like a dummy for almost an hour-the time taken for travel to and from school. Through the months and eventually two whole years, I find myself deeply attached to it.

Metro travel is not easy. To arrive at the college in the stipulated time, you have to rush, as the college is far. Entering the train is pleasant indeed, as you get immediately the whiff of cool breeze of the air conditioner. When you get a place to sit, you consider yourself lucky as you imagine the situation inside the train after just a few stations-the number of people increases tremendously and so quickly that you cannot help feel like it's magic. And what a pleasant journey it becomes then, when without a seat you have to stand and feel not just claustrophobic, but unable to stand properly or even move any part of body since there are millions inside the train. It seems the people that surround you always forget to apply perfumes-strong body odour of these people cannot escape you. The best possible situation arises when your head is positioned under someone's armpits, which are given a free licence to publicise their smell when the hand moves forward to get a support. You try to breathe through your mouth but find yourself unable to do so-you've just got to accept it and wait for your destination. This, incredibly, happens more often than not. Needless to say, you are impatient to reach Rajiv Chowk and escape the train.

You, however, still have to wade through an ocean of people wherever you go, since there would again be millions travelling with you in yellow line(the separate route of metro). At Central Secratariat, you heave a sigh of relief as you have finally succeeded in protecting yourself from stampede. On the way back in the afternoon, it is a similar story, but the train, packed to the core, gradually lessens its burden this time.

But even when you get a seat at the metro, you crave for a companion since it is so boring standing or sitting like a statue at the same place.

Boarding and deboarding is a separate worry-there is always an extensive pushing and shoving while the train opens its doors at a particular station. At Rajiv Chowk the amount of people is enormous, and hence the officials have mentioned a specific way of first letting people deboard from the middle, and then allowing people to board from the sides. They have tried their best to explain time and again about how it saves time and eliminates discomfort and stampede. Actually the public is not so cooperative, so there will always be a huge struggle at the doorway of people trying to come out and those trying to go in. I personally sometimes feel I could get crushed anyday. But that's life in India-that's metro travel in Delhi.

Although Kolkata metro is a lot less congested, I, inspite of all that happens to me everyday, have developed an unexplainable emotion towards Delhi metro travel. It is a part of my life for a long time now, and I dread the days ahead, when population of this country would manyfold within no time. But I still do like it. That way I'm not practical, but I cannot blame myself:everyone is peculiar in one's own way.

Chandni Chowk

As if the hectic travelling to and from DCAC getting scorched in the sun everyday was not enough, I, along with my friend, had one hell of a time two days ago. At the end of it all, we were as exhausted and tanned as we may never have been. I personally had the priviledge of exploring a lot of the so-called 'original Delhi', and had been overawed by the witness of what I believe was the real India-Chandni Chowk, which filled me with a sense of nostalgia. Like how Ishaan Awasthi had found the whole of Mumbai so fascinating-it added immense joy to my heart.

It all started with the nasty temper(or so it seemed) of our English teacher in the morning at college, when he reprimanded all of us severely and warned us not to attend his classes unless we purchased and brought our textbooks to class. He seemed to lose all control of himself when he found out about our not having the books with us-his face was a fearsome sight. So my friend and I decided to visit the famous Chandni Chowk that day itself. I had also to meet another friend of mine at Connaught Place. As usual, we boarded the bus from college to Central Secretariat, and then metroed our way towards this guy who had come to Delhi for the first time. A lot of walking in the sun in the afternoon of summer and a short chat(shamelessly again in the sun) later, we found ourselves accompanying him amidst a huge rush to the New Delhi railway station again via metro, and then moved towards Chandni Chowk.

This place was totally new to me, and you could notice and percieve the economic condition of the people here, by their attire, gait and of course by the fact that they were not pretentious. From the station, it was an endless walk to the dingy and dirty streets congested to the core. But once we were there, our eyes were full of shops-I think it was the time when I began to realise women's nature, the ultimate
pleasure of shopping:with all the refreshment stalls, all kinds of books, calendars, purdahs, salwars and other dress materials, and of course the spicy food at dirt cheap rates. I was most interested in refreshments-we had lemonade the first thing, and subsequently countless bottles of cold-drinks. Suddenly you do not mind the pushing and shoving of millions of people around you, do not care about the sweat or exhaustion so much. We had to walk a long way again, but this time with a spring in our steps. Everything was so fascinatingly new to me that I felt like a five-year old.

We had come here for our textbook, and after a lot of sight-seeing of sellable items, we purchased it from a shop which only my friend could locate out of innumerable similar-looking ones. "Hey, haven't you visited the Red Fort?", my friend put forward this embarrasing question to me, to which I sheepishly denied. How was I to realise that the guy would take me to the fort? I was too happy to oblige-the outing was turning out to be more than just an outing. At 50 degrees and with a smile on our faces, we told our legs to move ahead, and boarded an immensely congested bus going 500 metres towards Lal Quila. Within seconds, we had reached the meaningfully magnificent monument, but the best was yet to come.

'It's a Monday, it is closed.' I could not believe what the personnel at the entrance were saying. Defeated, we sat and consumed another bottle. By now my friend's pockets were full of holes. More than 190 rupees were spent on drinks and the spicy samosas. I was determined to not stop our fun here-I forced him to visit our home, which was almost two hours away from his. At 4:30 pm, we made our way back to the Metro station through bus and endless walking. We were roasted brinjals by then.

Two hours of travel later, we reached home. It was nice to come back here, and I was compelled to say 'home, sweet home'. My friend, after a brief time, left at 7:00. Father arrived, I started to read the newspaper, chat with my parents, and by 8 I was asleep. I could not reflect back on the events of this unbelievable day.The reason why I call this unbelievable is because we have nowadays confined ourselves to our homes:sight seeing of this kind with people of our age and with carefreeness is extinct. Fun nowadays are of a different kind-chatting and playing on computers, surfing the net, visiting fabulous restaurants and partying. I do hope that this is the beginning of the days of my second childhood and that I visit other fascinating places as well. I also thank the Almighty for making me live such a beautiful dream. This was a day which rekindled my past, during a time when I am supposed to foresee my future.

Taare Zameen Par

I had been taught at every stage of my childhood that extra-sensitiveness was a hindrance to a successful personality. My own father endorsed this theory, and to an extent, he was absolutely right-he always said,'don't build castles in the air'. In real life, too, one needs to be mechanical to avoid needless problems. The wonderful book Alchemist has elaborated upon this to make us go deeper, give up confusion and understand life better.

It tells us that one needs to maintain a balance:keep a watch on your present circumstances, but also look up and dare to dream and realise it. Both are necessary-doing either one without the other would lead to foolishness. At this point, my maturity level tells me that having an ultra-sensitive approach to life is a speciality in some people and a boon in disguise. And as said above, one should not forget to keep a foot on the ground, yet dare to recognise this quality in oneself which could be helpful in realising one's destiny. So, when I cried copiously hundreds of times while watching Taare Zameen Par, I did not hide the tears from others.

The movie was most special to me(and of course for millions of others). We all laughed and cried with the eight-year old Ishaan Awasthi, who represented all of us as a victim of today's cruelty by the world and circumstances, and could not help recollecting our past...the humiliation, the helplessness and the agony that we have all had to face which some people called the necessary dose of punishments to keep our foot on the ground. Ishaan, a dyslexia patient, suffered to the extent that he lost his ability to dream-gave up painting which was his passion and in which lay his heart and soul. He could not read nor write properly due to the disease, and everyone he knew considered him an idiot-a misfit in today's generation of toppers. Then there comes this newly-recruited arts teacher in his boarding school at Panchgani, who changes his life, partly because he sees a resemblance of his own childhood in the boy-yes, he too had suffered from dyslexia before.

It was joyous to see the smile coming back on the young M.F.Hussain Master Ishaan gradually as Aamir gave him the keys to go back to his world of kites, fishes and spaceships by transforming him to enable him to compete with others in academics and other activities. What made this movie truely extraordinary was that it laid bare the sad and inhuman mindset of Indian household today, which always compells children to lose their personality to survive in today's society. It forced the people to analyse, reflect and rectify their mistakes. It gave a platform for kids and teenagers to express their pain. No, social messages as deep as this are not confined to art-films alone.

The movie is special because of the message and lessons of life in it. Aamir Khan and Amole Gupte have done a service to the society-the whole of India should thank them for opening the eyes of millions..TAKE A BOW.

Amazing Ganguly

It is incredible how much life teaches you as you grow throughout your future. When you look at Sourav Ganguly's career you cannot help recognizing the greatness of this man. No, he is not just the comeback king, but after his recent successes, he has gone much beyond mere runs, wickets and team-selections.

I was watching a 7-month old edition of Harsha Unplugged, and much as I am a huge supporter of this man from Behala, it was an immense pleasure to listen to such a juicy conversation. Ganguly chose only a few words, but conveyed a whole lot more than just answer the questions put by Bhogle. I was awestruck at how he looked at life-his dropping from the squad, the mockery by people and media, from such a beautiful perspective."I wouldn't have mind had they just dropped me from the side, but lets be honest-Sports is beyond all of this", he said smilingly, referring to the politics, lying and conning during that hungama. You wonder why the whole world was so cruel and unforgiving to him. His conversation reflected also the trauma that he had faced then, how he had emerged from it and how he came to smiling like ever before.

As a skipper, he was passionate. He used to look at his team as his family-encourage, motivate and support his team mates like a father, and have undying faith in them too. "You must look after them", he says, as if it were obvious. His successor was different-very methodical and mechanical. But that meant, then, that we missed the enthusiasm of the team instilled by this man, and the joy of watching the emotional highs and lows was also extinct. He confesses,"My supporters in Calcutta then used to say-'you have to make a comeback, but even if you don't, you'll still be our hero'. That was special." Firm believer in faith and destiny, he has no regrets with his past. One cannot help comparing him with the late Hansie Cronje.

Could you have imagined a person like Yuvraj Singh, or infact, anyone, who could make the conversation so pleasing to the ear? It is evident that this man is not just a successful cricketer, but one of the greatest, and funnily, not just because of his performances, but for having survived and emerged from the fatal roller-coaster ride of his career so refreshed and matured(not that anybody had a doubt about his maturity level before). Again, success or failure does not define a person, it is the way one accepts it which does. Hats off to the Maharaj.

Nuclear Deal

For the past few days(in fact, months), I've fatigued to learn about the developments of the much-anticipated deal of nuclear supply by the US. That is primarily because all the political outfits have been guilty of using this as a tool or an agenda to reap maximum personal benefits. Almost all of them have played through the minds of the gullible public(as always) in trying to convince them about the positives and the negatives of the deal. In fact, I believe they've been priviledged to be a part of the political system of a nation whose citizens are easily infuenced-yes, in this case even the hi-fi urban society.

I was watching Headlines Today just yesterday-they were showing live interaction with the Bangaloreans at some grand-looking mall, questioning them about this hot news topic and their views on it. Most of them did not know what they'd say, some of them were nervous and looking lost and out of it. There was only this middle-aged lady who had some strong views to share. She was for the deal and elongation of UPA Government. But after all of that, I couldn't help feeling dazed at such lack of knowledge of political affairs of the country by the people. I wondered about the role of mass media in this whole issue, for which the authorities had mastered the art of being pretentious, leaving the whole nation divided in opinion and confused to be able to lose interest.

Newspapers and channels are doing their bit to increase viewership as well, providing evidence to the well-known theory of personal gain. However, more than the will of these journalists, it is the nature of their job for which they're not to be blamed. Political parties nowadays prosper mainly on the basis of cunningness, which is like quicksand-once a person enters high-level politics, he has got to shut his conscience to survive. It is an irony that in the pursuit of improving the face of global India, these political figures have made it a laughing stock among the concerned people in the whole of the world. But again, it is not their fault. So whom do we blame? Rang de Basanti theory this time.

Personally, I'm strongly against the N-deal because of two factors. First, this deal would play havock with our sovereignty since we all know what the nature of US is like-they would have infinite power to enter even more deeply into our personal affairs, and secondly, because we can ourselves find a solution to the nuclear problem through our greatest minds, since we have ourselves to blame for making a mockery of the whole thing(instead of digging up sites of nuclear resources discovered as early as in 1991, we invested in the construction of more and more nuclear plants, without having the resources for it's survival, yet having it!). Nuclear Deal would be like spoonfeeding-we are all independent and talented enough to find a way out, atleast without having to pay so much. But whatever happens now, I, like millions of my countrymen, hope that it does not do us any harm.

Debt

Over the past few days I've had hectic travelling to and from DCAC. After the long journey of about an hour by metro, I have to board a public bus going the direction of my college. The metro station at Central Secratariat is a huge and sophisticated one(perhaps because of the magnificence and importance of the area), and one needs to be clear of one's sense of direction, as there are so many exits that it definitely becomes confusing. To board the bus, I was making my way towards the Krishi Bhavan exit the other day, when I overheard a conversation of a newcomer asking guidance from someone to reach his destination which was incidentally the same as mine. The local could not help him a great deal, and then I went upto him to not only guide him but also have company(as it is so boring travelling alone).

The man was undoubtedly a Bengali, revealed by his accent and tone of speech. He was relieved to have found someone to help him out. We crossed the road and waited for a long, long time before the much-anticipated bus no.610 arrived at the stop, and at 9:30 in the morning, it was overloaded. Our man seemed to suffer from claustrophobia-his face contorted a great deal when he witnessed the amount of people that were pushing and shoving inside the vehicle, so he held my hand to stop me from boarding it. I resisted as I did not have enough money to manage an auto travel, but that wasn't a problem for him. Interestingly, he followed me inside the bus with some reluctance. Conductor asked for the tickets and he immediately said,"Sarojini Nagar market for two". I had a ten-rupee note in my hand but could not prevent him from paying for me. I was wonderstruck. When I expressed my displeasure at this, this man from Garia in Calcutta replied,"You shouldn't pay-atleast I got a friend to guide me".

To me, it was a bit too much to take in as I'd done nothing but manage an accompanist who'd travel with me. He resisted the heat and did not mind the foul body smell of more than a thousand people inside the bus just because of me. I was feeling embarrased to see the droplets of sweat on his face. When we deboarded at Sarojini Nagar after some time, I immediately apologised to him to which he replied,"No, no need to say sorry, after all it's just one day". I wondered what to say next, before he himself went his direction and I took the way to my college. There was a sense of disappointment in my heart, and I kept on analysing why that man behaved the way he did. I mean, there was nothing special in what I had done, and by suffering due to bus journey and paying up for me, he did not fail to bring me into heavy debt. And to think that he thought it was his way of expressing gratitude!

M S Dhoni

The young, bold and charismatic skipper that he is, MS Dhoni has created quite a flutter already in his short career. He is now an overwhelming favourite of the masses, the media, the corporate and the cricketing world. It has indeed been a surprise to note the rate at which our man has climbed to this platform of stardom and power in just three years. There must be some quality in him which sets him apart from the rest. Or the gullible people of this country have easily been hypnotised by this magician.

He is now a man so confident of himself that he never pauses to ponder over the decisions that he takes-as if he had foreseen that fate would always take care of him in future, and moreover, has this uncanny knack of producing amazingly brilliant results with it. His personality is magnetic to the world, even when he suffers with a drop of form he is never subjected to total criticism. It is interesting to note that when he arrived in the scene he was taken a special note of by everyone due to his collective wicketkeeping and batting abilities-his consistent performances including his 148 against Pakistan and 183 against Sri Lanka, which propelled the selectors to take him into reckoning, seem a distant past now. Even though he still has a brilliant average of 49, he has more importantly been able to guide his team to famous victories, and save his face gracefully during the odd defeats, like the loss at the consecutive finals at the Kitply Cup and the Asia Cup. He showed us during IPL a part of his mature self when he gracefully accepted defeat off the last delivery in the finals, because he evidently does not become pretentious during these situations, quite unlike the Roger Federer post-match after having lost the final at Wimbledon. And that increases the aura about him.

For now atleast, this personality more than his abilities makes him an extraordinary leader. Needless to say, he has a lot of similarities with his pre-predecessor Sourav Ganguly, who has had to face a taste of bad life a few years ago. With his suggestions like that of dropping seniors for the one-day squad and the bold step of withdrawing from the test side momentarily, one does hope that his confidence(or over-confidence) does not bring his downfall. A hero that he is , he still exists as a human, and he, more than us needs to reflect on that. Or maybe, the Jharkhand lad is a magician enough to realise better than us what he is upto.

Life is unreal

It was three days ago that I had a most surreal experience. It was dreamlike yet wasn't a dream at all. It was magical. On my way back from DCAC, I was in a hurry at the station to catch the metro which was on the verge of leaving us and make us wait for five more minutes. So I rushed down the stairs at the rate of naughts, only to find the doors of the train closing in front of me and waving to me to say goodbye sarcastically. An old man then, must be around 75 years old, came up to me and said," We all have a child hidden in ourselves-out here" pointing to the left part of his chest. "See, you'd just have to wait for less than five minutes!" I was amused by his words and just smiled. He added," But yes, it is wonderful to sometimes give vent to the childlike nature of ours-it provides us with the enthusiasm, alertness and positive attitude so necessary for good living." Again I had nothing to say and just smiled.

The next train arrived within three minutes and we both boarded it. With the rush of passengers from the train trying to shove and push their way out as quickly as possible, our man was stranded at the doorway, unable to force his way in. After succeeding myself, I lent him a helping hand, and he somehow made it. I offered him a seat next to me, and he was again in a talkative mood. "You see," he said, "these political figures do not stop eating us up even now." I agreed. "You know, boy, I think if there is an option called'none of the above', we'd all exercise our right to vote, and if the like minded people like us(referring to himself and me) vote for this, it'd create a sensation, and the media would ensure then that the government is forced to look into the matter." I couldn't help agreeing more. He then asked me what I was busy with in my life at the moment, and the place where I finished my schooling. During this chat, he got badly interrupted by an extremely loud conversation of a person on phone, seated infront of us-he didn't like it. "Oh my goodness, I thought there was an announcement or something!" But again, he did not fail to mention the positives. "See," he said, "they are so natural, no pretensions!" referring to the fact that the man on phone did not care about people getting disturbed or anybody else looking at him. "Yes," I said, finally saying something worthwhile, "we all try to behave differently infront of people than at our homes."

We deboarded again at Rajiv Chowk to board another one going a different route. But as in India which is so common, it was again a great struggle to make our way out of the train. After having made our struggle useful to successfully barge our way into the next one, this man had some parting words to say. "I wish for your success in life and am sure that you will grow up to be an extraordinary man. Abhishek, I really believe that you would be uncommon and refreshingly different from the rest. I hope you make your parents proud and realise the summit in whatever you do." I was speechless, couldn't say a word even though I wanted to, badly. Then I somehow struggled to say,"I wish I would meet more people like you." "Oh, that's really a complement", he said, smiling,"but remember, you'd have to deal with this unforgiving world." And he kept on smiling at me, and I stared blankly. I was tongue-tied, I couldn't say a word. And before I could even think of anything, he left at the next station. I cursed myself of not even bidding him goodbye. What an idiot I was.

I pine to meet him again. Or people like him again. I think it was a message of the almighty making me realise that there are all kinds of people in this country-the good ones are so rare, but they exist everywhere; giving me an inspiration to proudly be the odd one out. (this article was published in Hindustan Times innervoice- July 16, 2008)

Kolkata

If we go by history, the city of Calcutta, which served as a base for the British for ages, was initially a cluster of three villages of Bengal-Sutanati, Govindpur and Kolikata. Needless to say, most of the initial development of this place as a lavish hub of major industries and posh colonies was done by them. Quite like Bombay, people dared not step into the huge world of the British here. Today, it is again special but in a slightly different way.

It is mentioned in the same breath with the likes of Delhi and Mumbai, but nowadays the 'Kolkata' has a sad story to tell. It tells us about the change in government about three decades ago, which has gradually made it cease to live up to its earlier reputation. Depleting economy and work culture has stagnated the growth, what with the lack of industries ensuring that the city has not much developed over these thirty years. Falling victim to pot-holes on the road during monsoons are as common as having eggs during breafast; century-old trams are more than a menace, as it totally disrupts the traffic, which is a famous, non-solvable problem. That is because roads in Kolkata cover only 2% of the area of the city as compared to 25-30% in other cities - and as such you will find extremely narrow, dingy and dirty roads proudly serving as major thoroughfares. Old British-age artistic structures are a treat to watch, but you are not sure when they would actually collapse and fall on you head. And the people? Well, they have a sense of pride over the 'preservation of heritage' such as this. Kolkata does not attract the elites or the youth anymore. In this magnificent place the worker-class rule the roost, so do not try to get into any trouble with them. Dharnas and hunger strikes keep on taking place throughout the year to make it a menace for the rare workaholics. And yet, we find loads and loads of references to this amazing place by numerous people as being a city to fall in love with.

It is because of the minute aspect of our lives called culture, the emotions attached to this and the love and righteousness of people. The magnificence of a place is defined by its people, and even though there is a definite lack of economically related progress here, public here has ensured that its heart is as pure as Gold. Plus the fact that this city remains the proud 'Cultural capital of India' by far would make the common man value this region as no other. It is a pity to realise that there are Lata Mangeshkars and M.F.Hussains hidden in every nook and corner of those dingy streets, with their economic background ensuring they never get the platform to give vent to the talent to make it useful. You would find the best of portrait-makers begging people in major fairs in the city to show their abilities at peanuts. Yes, there is a stampede here and the shun of arts in our money-making corporate world has ensured that there is no place for them. But they are proud of this-again! No matter what the gravity of situation is - they would never stop pursuing their passion for they believe arts leads to spirituality. Don't you think that this is actually a refreshing change from the world we live in? When you realise this, primitive factors like lack of economic improvement do not matter much.

I, myself as a person would definitely love to be a part of this culture, as well as ensure that I do my bit for the missing factors. It is an irony, but God-willing, it is going to change for the better soon.

Agony of common 'man'

Over the years I've been tired and disappointed at the way people look at the difference between the two genders in our country. It surprises me as well, to find that so many different kinds of people get affected by it in so many ways in various regions. While in Kolkata, we find the females getting profuse respect from the commoners, in most areas in India, prominently in Uttar Pradesh and Bihar, they find it hugely risky to plod through the places alone, especially when in their prime. Which means that the so-called fairer sex pity themselves and develop a strong dislike and hate for the 'men', and rightly so. However, in many cases this hate is developed right from childhood. The small girls get brainwashed in many ways, consciously and subconsciously, to the extent that they believe beyond doubt that the man has been born to inflict miseries on the woman. And the boy kids are always made to feel guilty, by this portrayal, for no reason at all.

There is a very strong reason to feel discontented and the need to express the right amount of wrath, but not at the cost of others. Now the whole community of man is looked down upon by them: in railway stations, in buses, in offices-in fact in all the major public places you will always find some man at the receiving end. Even if a woman's pointed heels are on your toes, you have no right to shout- the woman might complain. Whenever there is an accident involving a man and a woman, the woman is almost always spared.

I recently read a friendly sms on my pal's mobile phone, and found it quite interesting. It lamented about the agony of today's man, what with all the reservations for women to make them have a higher position in society. Even during enquiry about admissions in various colleges, I found that there is a substancially higher ratio of girls scoring more than 95% than boys, and yet not only do they get rebate in the cut-offs, they also have the choice of studying in additional brilliant women's colleges, although the number of male students is higher. I myself feel very sorry for this supposedly 'weaker' gender which has allegedly been suppressed from early civilisation in many parts of the world, people who are actually indulged in the wrong acts have nothing to fear and are not caught, but it is people like us who are the unfortunate victims. I ask, are the females taking revenge for what has happened to their community over centuries now and is happening to them due to some morons, on the commoners? A time will come when the silent sufferers will protest.

But, as we all know, there are loads of public places where the woman is actually made to suffer. I find that the awareness which is so necessary to stop this menace is actually harming us commoners this way.

We need to be mature enough to understand that both the genders are a single community, and both are necessary for the growth of the society, soul, the world and of course for each other. The difference in gender is nothing if one goes beyond the primitive arguments. Why don't people understand this?

I strongly condemn the acts of shame and disgrace by the man of the yesteryears as well as the present. But please spare the 'common' man.

Nadal over Federer

I've always maintained that true sportsmen learn much more than commoners about the subtleties of life throughout their career- be it in victory or defeat, but as we experience in our daily lives what Miss Rowling percieved as well, defeat adds enormously to our maturity which is much more essential in leading a mentally-prosperous life. However this is a consolation for people like Marat Safin and now Roger Federer, the latter rarely having had to reflect on defeats in recent times until the emergence of the extraordinarily improving Spaniard Rafael Nadal. As this man won the epic final, what was really disheartening was to realise the amount of sorrow felt by Roger which clearly reflected on his ever-smiling face. Post match, as Nadal was busy wiping his tears of joy and meet his family in the stands to cry with them too, the five-time Wimbledon champion was seen pretending to smile. In fact, he couldn't even do it properly, which was quite understandable, but was quite unlike him.

Yes, he had never faced it before. Over the past few years we had all wondered if there would be any competitor who'd challenge the supremacy of the Swiss, as he had been running away with almost all the trophies in the world which tennis could possibly provide. And now we've got the answer, and the gentle and quietly confident champion would have to hand over the reins, possibly momentarily, to this newcomer. This is a trying period in Roger's tennis career, and he does not need to brood over it- sooner or later it had to come. This loss justifies the fact that Federer is a human and can be challenged, and that a monopoly cannot go on forever. I would definitely wish for Federer to bounce back and reclaim his crown at Wimbledon, but trust me, this moment would help him as he would be compelled to experience the other side of life as well.

As for Nadal, I truely believe he could go on and do a Federer over the years to come, but it would be equally important for him to grow as a person, which I think he already is doing. Success or failure does not define a person, it is the way you handle them which does. This is a lesson for not only these rivals but also for all of us.

Student life-a burden?

Every sixth man in the world is an Indian. With all the major cities flooded with capable youngsters trying to make a living, survival in the job-arena has indeed become a hard-fought challenge. Needless to say, parents and students alike are concerned about this, and this struggle starts from early childhood.

Schools nowadays have ceased to be just the temples of physical and mental education- they have become money-making centres and those which produce academically sound students are the most sought-after ones. While the concern may seem healthy and right to some extent, the situation has blown out of proportions. The students are made to realize that student-life is not for enjoyment. They are expected at every stage of their early lives, to remain focused on excellence, especially in academics. When Rahul came back from school one day to announce to his parents that he had come second in class by just one mark, he received a beating from his strict father. “Learn to achieve, and study harder! How will you cope up with this competitive world outside waiting for you, if you fail to succeed in an arena like this? No outdoor games, no computer and definitely no television from now.” Hapless Rahul wonders why his father is so cruel. There are millions of such Rahuls in India, and one cannot help but pity them all.

However, in many other cases we have witnessed unwanted exposure as a bane as they lure students, especially teenagers away from their main focus of establishing their lives. Greed, fear, hatred, jealousy and insecurity have gripped us all, and they adversely affect youngsters. The modern western culture of late-night parties and the new Bollywood, which portrays glamour as an essential ingredient of style, have ensured that there are always a few people who make a mockery of their lives subconsciously. The modern gadgets have ensured an ultra-luxurious life, making it extremely difficult to keep their minds and bodies in shape and keep laziness away. Virtues like patience, perseverance and positive attitude tend to stay away from such people, which is another reason as to why students of today underperform and commit suicides.

As mature citizens, we all know that each individual has some special quality and talent inside them, but they are as hidden as diamonds in a mine. They need to discovered, and then polished substantially to have worth in the World market. Each one has one’s own destiny to fulfill, and with the help of Almighty’s omens each one is expected to go ahead. Striving for excellence is one of our national duties, but we must not forget that man is not a machine. He needs love, support and a right amount of freedom from well-wishers for his success. Let us all make this happen and ensure a better and peaceful future of them and our own nation, by rightfully counseling and advising them at every stage of their beautiful lives.

Dada

The story of this prince, who went on to become a Maharaj, would be the perfect script for a huge blockbuster hit. He has been greeted with garlands and burnt effigies during the ups and downs of his high-profile career, but the extraordinary quality about this man from Behala in Kolkata has been his ability to back himself at all times, never bowing down to lady luck and proving a tough nut to crack, time and time again.

Sourav Ganguly’s cricketing career effectively began in the summer of 1996 at Lord’s, where he scored a century and impressed everyone with his sublime strokeplay. He became a star batsman of the Indian squad and set the scoreboard alight along with the master blaster Sachin Tendulkar at the top of the innings. During these initial years, amidst all the issues of under-performance and match-fixing, Ganguly always performed consistently well for the Indian team and got the accolades. It was perhaps his destiny to lead the country four years since his debut and emerge as the most successful Indian captain. During his tenure as the skipper, Indian cricket was undergoing a revolutionary phase- with youngsters hungry for success and having a desire to down the best teams. Under him, the world witnessed a remarkable turnaround of the attitude of the Indian players as compared to the Azhar-era when it seemed that the only performers were the star-batsmen who were busier breaking individual records than helping the team win matches. It is hard to say whether Ganguly initiated and forced this change, but what we really know is that he reposed faith in these youngsters just like an elder brother or a ‘dada’ which helped them to give it their best. India has one of the greatest pools of world-class talent in the world, and Sourav Ganguly knew it.

The series win against the Proteas at their own backyard (which was marred by the startling confessions of match-fixing by Hansie Cronje) was the first major success of Ganguly as a skipper. They were followed by the home series win against Australia- remembered for the series-saving 281 by VVS Laxman which completely changed the face of the second test match at the Eden Gardens, and eventually paved the way for an emphatic series win; the Natwest series triumph in 2002 at Lord’s when India successfully chased down 325 and the 2nd place finish at the World Cup 2003. India, as a cricketing nation, slowly but surely emerged as a force to reckon with, but with it the batting form of this man also reached a peak-low. The reaction from the public and also the selectors became so intense that he was immediately dropped from the squad in 2005. India found a new captain in Rahul Dravid and Ganguly was thought to have reached the end of his career. It was a trying period in his life as he faced criticism from all quarters. A website named ‘ihateganguly.com’ became popular and the experts all suggested him to stop behaving like a spoilt child, for he did not accept retirement. Differences with the then newly appointed coach Greg Chappell made matters worse for him. His supporters back home in Kolkata were the only ones who stood by his side. Harsha Bhogle had even commented “It is Sourav who should choose how he wants the world to bid him ‘goodbye’”. All in all, people had more or less accepted the fact that DADA is history.

Little did they know that he was yet to reach the peak of his career. After a gap of about 18 months, he got a chance to be back in the Indian lineup for the series against the Proteas through some remarkable domestic performances. Unwanted by coach Greg Chappell, unsure of his reception by teammates, mocked at by most of the media and fired by injured pride, a determined Ganguly landed in South Africa, and needless to say, made his critics eat their words who had never given him a chance of a comeback at the age of 34. He not only got back his form, but also the flamboyance and enthusiasm of a nineteen year old, as we saw him plundering runs like never before. Winning adulations from world over, he won the hearts of many as a rare comeback King- yes, this was the time when he ceased to be just the prince, he matured to transcend as a Maharaj, and this time there was no one mocking him. It was at this phase that he became again the most consistent Indian batsman and at Bangalore in September last year scored his maiden double century against Pakistan, which was another feather in his cap.

Even though he is currently not in the Indian one-day squad (shockingly), he still remains the enthusiastic yet calm tiger of Bengal and Indian cricket, having still the undying quality of fiery leadership.

As a man from Bengal myself, I can conclude that he represents that race of rare Bengalis who were revolutionaries, like Subhash Chandra Bose. He would still rue many things that happened to him in his career, but as he himself confesses, “It is a part and parcel of the deal”.

English Honours

This is funny and unbelievable. How confused can one get? The choice of a career is an extremely important one, but in my case this dilemma made me tear my hair out. It gave me sleepless nights along with nightmares! It made me weep and annihilated my self confidence. With poor marks in the Boards and time running out, I’m sure it would have resulted in a nervous breakdown as well. There was a time when I seriously thought about Law, at other times about graduation in Computer Science and then seemed to have made up my mind with Engineering. But now I’m relieved enough to be able to tell myself- “I’m choosing a career totally of my choice”.

I’m going to pursue an Arts course from a prestigious institution. If you people want to laugh, please do. I’m not a sheep neither a buffalo driven by people, the well-wishers, who want me to follow the trend. In pursuit of job- security and money, I would ruin my life. I may not be modern, for I endorse the true meaning of ‘career’ as ‘some service to the society which one is destined to do with all heart and soul throughout one’s life’. Sounds outrageous, doesn’t it? But that’s how it is. I can pour my heart and soul in putting my own thoughts on paper. With all the philosophical and independent thoughts that cross my mind every now and then, I get overwhelmed. I feel I ought to convey my feelings to the whole world. At other times I feel like waking the people of India from their deep slumber through my words.

Yes, you read it right-deep slumber. The urban Indian society of today is changing for the worse, due to various reasons. There are very few who are mature enough to ponder and analyse the lifestyle they lead, a far cry from what is expected of an Indian individual. Those who have the resources and can think beyond food, water and shelter ought to give a part of themselves to the country. But no, corruption is so common that there is no wonder why progress of this ‘mahaan’ nation is so slow. The upper middle class and the affluent too are busy making money. The pub culture is in full swing and youth is addicted to it- that’s the so called ‘fun factor’ attached to it. And unfortunately, the rural public would definitely follow their brothers in the cities. The western influence has played an immense role in this unfortunate ‘revolution’, and how can we ever thank the ‘modern’ Bollywood for it?

When person from a village decides to make fortune in the town, the hurdles and humiliations that would follow would definitely make him street smart. He would learn to play dirty tricks in order to make quick money and follow the easier path. Would he ever learn about the path of truth?
What I mean to say is-today’s generation wants economic independence, and have totally forgotten their duties as a responsible citizen. Also, there are millions of people who are forced to give up a life of idealism due to circumstances. In fact, in short, I can merely state that our society lacks the will, the patriotism and finally the firepower to change the global Indian face.
Oh, I can go on and on about it. If you realise, the above words will be echoed in the minds of many, but do we pause to ponder over it?

There are people who have done it. The story of Rang de Basanti was written by someone who shared my views (although the movie had a few flaws in it as well). So reader, do I still need to convey where my future lies? - It is here, in my diary. With English Honours, I will only be going deeper into this familiar language and helping my cause.

moral science

Everyday in the newspapers I read about horrendous crimes. It makes me wonder whether people even know that there is something called conscience inside them. As ordinary people too we are taught moral values by so many around us(although it is at a sharp decline), but hardly anyone pays attention to it. It is one thing to admire & preach moral values and quite another to apply them in our lives. However, the most wonderful thing about us human beings is that even though we commit a lot of sins and crimes, if we ask our own selves whether we are actually that bad, the answer is an invariable no. I am absolutely sure that the two boys who shot their classmate dead in Euro International School a few months back were normal people like all of us, and see how they have had to repent for a few moments of madness! In fact, even the professional robbers and killers must have had a prick of conscience the first time they were drawn into the criminal business.

There is never a wrong time to do right things-this we forget. Moreover, God is always ready to forgive us if we repent to our sins, ask for forgiveness and surrender ourselves totally to him. But no, here we can see the ruthless world of fear, dominance, hatred, jealousy and insecurity. Sinners are proud of their sins, 'inspire' other people to commit sins and crimes. There are people too who opt to use the wrong path as it gives them instant pleasure. For example, it can be as simple as cheating in an examination hall.

Most of the times, we also see in our daily life that people respect success more than anything else. Today an Andrew Symonds is a hit; even after all the controversies he has had. Why? merely because he plays well. Ishaan Awasthi was treated badly by the whole world in the movie 'Taare Zameen Par'- not because he was a bad person but because he was a failure. Is this the criteria to judge a person? People forget that success should be valued only as long as the goodness of a person is not doubted.

It is true that people become more and more mature as they increase in age. It is also wonderful to say, then, that even in old age people try to make the right use of their lives. The biggest example is that of Mr. Pierre Pean, a French national who lived in Paris as a travel agent, in his retired life now spends the day teaching poor students free of cost sitting in a not-so-comfortable stool in a ram shackled bus in Malad, Bombay. What made him do so? In fact, the only article that makes my day is that called 'Essential India', which speaks of the people who have in their own ways made the country proud.

Not all is lost. We need to be taught moral values in a different way, which tells us how to apply them in our lives. The world is changing for the better. Let us hope that we contribute a small part to it.