aditya kumar's weblog

Back in 2001, when Steve Waugh’s men toured India, they were in a similar position as Ponting’s men now. The team was on a roll and had created a record of sorts with their consecutive test wins. It took an epic test match and a monumental innings to put an end to something which had been nothing less of a supreme, majestic run.

Ponting’s men have showed, time and again, an insatiable appetite for winning but what differentiates them from Steve Waugh’s team is that these bunch of players don’t seem to have a taste for dignity and fair play. It is an ominous sign, when a sportsman starts to think of himself greater than the game. Its worse when eleven of them do that, while the captain leads them from the front.

Bad umpiring is one thing and playing with integrity is another. He may not like it, but it does raise a question on Ponting’s integrity. It does not matter if, in the past, he has walked off without looking at the umpire after he knew he was gone or if he admitted of an unclean catch. It usually seems a matter of his convenience. Its evident that the Australian captain has started to think of himself as larger than the Game.

Bad umpiring did sink India but what has come as a rude shock is the attitude of the opponents, who, almost ironically, pride themselves for the spirit they carry for the game. They look like a teenager with a gun.

If Steve Waugh were at the helm of affairs, would things be the same? Perhaps not. Not only do The Australians lack a batsman of his class, they will always be deprived of the golden legacy that Waugh left behind. Michael Clarke, the guy often pitted to be next in line for captaincy is no Mr.Clean, his babyface looks notwithstanding.

I have always maintained that ICC could well be the weakest sports body in the world. There is laid back attitude that has always been a trademark of the council. This is not the first time that umpires, single-handedly, have been instrumental in changing the course of a game of cricket at the highest level. But the test match could well be important for the simple reason that it is indeed the first time when so many wrong decisions have collectively defeated a team that was well placed on 3 out of the 5 days of a test match and at one stage sniffed a real chance of victory. Why then, do we persist with umpires that are responsible for undoing of this magnitude? Why, do we not hear cricket umpires being warned, let alone be penalized. Why, at the end of each season, can’t the ICC show videos of their crimes to these umpires and seek an explanation? Would that be technology put to use or would the cricket traditionalists call it yet another tech-abuse?

Either way, we’ll only know the answers if the supreme body of Cricket may seek them.

While it was on, it was a horror show. Now that its over, The Sydney test was nothing less than a crying shame. It was a mockery, an abuse of the Game.

For now, it certainly sounds better to loose with dignity intact than to win with soiled, dirty hands in the mire. I have no doubt, a certain Anil Kumble will agree.

From the archives, this post originally written almost 3 years back, in February 2005, deserves a comeback. I am posting it as is, again.

“Thats the James Bond Beach”, said my sister.

“Thats the what bond beach?” I asked, my face giving a convincing, confused look not sure about what I just heard.

“James Bond Beach”.

My mind raced back to all the James Bond movies I had seen, the last 4. I could not even recall a single movie scene shot in India. Bond in India? At this place? How come I do not know about it.

“Why is it called that?”, the confused look on my face has transformed into a curious one.

“Oh its not called that. I call it that. Because, you know, it gives a feeling of how a typical beach is, in Bond movies. Blue water, silver sand, no one around, a seemingly private beach. colorful fishing boats beyond the coastline. The James Bond beach.”

She was right. This looked strikingly similar to one of those. It was probably the most beautiful sea shore I had ever seen in my life.

And for the third time in the last few minutes, the look on my face was changed to a convincing one. Yes, the James Bond beach. I was now staring with gleaming eyes on the waves, crashing on the silver sand, as if, in a matter of seconds, a bikini clad Halle Barry would just pop up from nowhere between the waves. The Bond-James Bond, Beach.

I am talking about a place called Karwar, a small town in the northern coast of Karnataka, a 150 km drive from Goa. I have stayed more than half of my life on the coast, and this was, quite easily, the best seashore I had ever seen. The water was bluer than the sky. The sun shone on the white sand, washing it and left it glimmering like silver. The sea was calm, as if pretending to me, that it has always been like this. Like storms, cyclones and the recent tsunami, were strangers to this sailors grave. “It wasn’t me”, as if the sea was telling me. The waves, calm and blue on the surface of the sea. But just before they crashed on the white sand, they suddenly turned green, as if venting some hidden anger only to be released in small quantities at regular intervals so that it goes unnoticed by anyone not paying attention. The anger, it holds inside, I said to myself. Behind me was the Navy establishment giving it the look of a private beach. And no one on the shore. Just the sea and somewhere on the horizon, the deep blue sea and the pale blue sky met. Nothing at all in sight. A sight to remember. It was like a hidden treasure, in the vicinity of the Naval authorities and away from the already little tourist attraction this city receives. It had no name, so we call it The James Bond Beach. The “Bond. James Bond” Beach.

Alright, for the few who have been following up with this blog, perhaps you did notice a little change, eh? Well, nothing much has changed. The WordPress version is now updated to 2.3. My loyalty to “The Journalist” WordPress Theme remains and I shall be ever thankful to Lucian Marin for creating it. The change in look, however, is a result of “upgrading” the theme to its latest version. It still remains true to its simplicity, I must say.

More later.

Verdict – 8/10

** No Spoilers Ahead**

Bollywood has felt the need for Child Themed movies as much as the fish needs the bicycle. Considering that, this movie comes as a fresh change, something that every movie lover could love forward to. Aamir Khan is his usual brilliant self but it is Darsheel Safary, the kid that steals the show all the way.

Taare Zameen Par is a movie every young couple should watch — Its a movie every parent with a teenage child must watch. Its a beautiful movie because it shows us how parents, with all the good intentions in their hearts, can still go wrong.

The reason why I did not give this a “9” is because I thought the parents role could have been a little more defining. Since for most of the first half, the family of the child plays a role of importance, one hoped that they could carry some of it, if not all, to the second half as well. But overall, by the second half, the story has a good foundation and the protagonist of the movie takes it off from there. The songs are well sequenced and not “just put there”. This has been an area that Bollywood has really improved over the last few years.

Aamir Khan impresses with his behind the screen antics and considering that he directed himself and a nine year old kid while working on a very sensitive subject that must have involved a lot of background research — all for the first time, I think he has done a brilliant job. I will not take away one thing from this man, who for all his brilliance, has often been misunderstood in the industry.

A few days ago, in conversation on the phone with a friend, talk revolved around the games available for playstation 2. Most of the games ported on video game consoles like the PS series are role-play. You are on the either side — The good guys or the bad guys. A terrorist on the run or a black commando killing robbers. Or a good earthling killing Martians. It boils down to one concept, the one of killing.

Honestly I am not in favor of letting a 13 year old use it because of the gore involved in the games. It is much worse than plain television viewing.

The concept of killing people with guns coupled with this modern amenity called a gaming console makes a combo that can be termed as trash of the western world. I got the console for myself when I turned, ahem, 26. Though I am sure I wouldn’t have picked up the gun but I shudder to think how would it be if I had got my hands on this thing 13 years ago.

The effects are for you to see. The School killings in America. Back home, a first incident of its kind, happened in Delhi a few hours ago. I am not suggesting that the people involved in these incidents were directly influenced by video games but I certainly see a pattern of some sort here.

Children carrying guns to school. This is the new face of the society we are living in.

What Modi did, when he made those comments about Sohrabuddin was that he provoked the little devil living in each man, in this case, the hindu front benchers who chanted “Kill him! Kill him!” when he raised up the issue.

Modi has been smart enough to show some state development on his performance report card. It would serve him right and because the Gujarati Hindu voter is always more than willing to give him that benefit of doubt because afterall, he views the CM’s efforts of development as perhaps, ten times of what has actually been done.

Whats disturbing in all this is that Modi saw it coming. He knew that his pro-Hindu (and Anti-Muslim) stance could turn on a backlash if he did not have real development figures to show up. So he had his figures ready.

In other words, this has been Modi’s stance — There has been development in Gujarat, I hate Muslims and I am the Extremist Hindu that you perceive me to be. Its all a part of the deal.

So, a large section of would-be-Modi voters need not worry about his remarks on Sohrabuddin. Why after all, there has been some work done and they need to vote for him. The real, unsaid reason is simple — His antics as Gujarat’s CM, the reasons we all know him for. The speeches ofcourse provoke that little devil in each one of them and the development figures are enough to devoid the voter of the guilt that he may have after voting for the man.

Congress’s comments on the issue have not helped the party; The muddy hands they have got now after all this mudslinging could put the busiest potter to shame. Perhaps it was wrong that Congress started the whole thing but then again, do two wrongs make a right? And don’t our leaders fear the law anymore — that they openly justify and advocate for the killing of a man who, though was accused by law of a crime, had not yet been convicted of it?

The third pillar of democracy, our courts are rotting. Our judiciary has become ineffective for the common man. Our politicians advocate killing people in election speeches. Democracy is being abused in India; we are bending it, breaking it to suit ourselves.

And here we are, hailing to our world of our Democracy. Politics has become such a crying shame.

All this, for the moment, happening in Gujarat — once known as the land of one Mr. Mohandas K Gandhi. I see him turning in his grave.

On my way back home from work, near the Sony world Koramangala intersection, I saw an Enfield Bullet with “POLITE” written on back, Red bold letters. Curiosity, like always, had the better of me and the red signal as it was, I went near the bike, dragging my (relatively) mediocre looking Honda Activa and I asked the rider what was the whole “Polite” thing all about. I mean, if these letters had to form a word on the back of an Enfield Bullet, “C” had certainly to be a part of it, instead of the “T”.

Turned out, our rider had a little sense of humor. His first reaction was a frown, but as I completed my question, it turned into a smile and he told me that “POLITE”, in those big Red letters, was actually meant to scare off the rude Autorickshaw-wallas, for the menace that they have become on the roads. And since he really didn’t belong to POLICE, he could not claim that “C”. In these mad streets, at high speeds and manoeuvres , “POLITE” could well be “POLICE”.

Presence of mind?

Now, I had to read this a few times to be really sure of what it was. On the exact same spot, a month or two back, a lady driven scooty with, believe it or not, a sticker that said:

“DON’T KISS ME”.

Oh, how could I lady, especially with that helmet you have put on.

Absence of mind?