Monday, August 16, 2010

Kaju Feni

I can get Virender Sehwag out. Don’t laugh!! I bowl slow loopy spin, unsullied by skill, confidence or malice. Think Jeetan Patel, think Jason Krezja, think Paul Harris, Simon Katich and Suraj Randiv. Catch my drift? Don’t think Saqlain or Murali. I’m not that good. If I was, the scorecard would say “Sehwag not out 200”, not “Sehwag out bored by Kartik”. Oh if he was a strike away from a 100 or its multiples, I’d back myself more!

The day Sehwag made his Test debut, I got thrown out of a JEE Physics class. As Prof. Ananthan chastised me, I did some quick math. On a wing and a prayer that SRT was still batting, I could be back home in time for the opening day post-lunch session of the India-South Africa Test at Bloemfontein. On a lightning fast surface, with Pollock & Co. spitting venom, Tendulkar blitzed his way to a coruscating century of incandescent brilliance. As Ntini and Nantie Hayward bowled short to attacking fields, Sachin unleashed the upper cut to devastating effect. At the other end, a lookalike quietly took his first steps under The Master’s watchful eye, but would go on to construct a career free of His immense shadow. It wasn’t a defensive knock from Sehwag by any stretch of imagination. The upper cut was emulated, and some scorchers were punched off the backfoot. But it was probably the first time in his fledgling first-class career that he was part of substantial partnership, and not its star. It would most definitely be the last.

A few weeks later, Sehwag taught Sachin a thing or two about tackling Nasser Hussain & Ashley Giles’ negative bowling tactics. Then came the 2002 Champions Trophy where he could do no wrong. Even as his scintillating strokeplay set the tournament ablaze, it was a nerveless display of off-spin bowling that took the cake. It brought back memories of Tendulkar’s final over in the Hero Cup almost a decade ago. Then, as now, the opponents were South Africa, the occasion, the semi-final of a multi-nation tournament, and the result, a miracle victory. In the meantime, Sehwag was converted to an opener in both forms of the game. It was a no-brainer in LOIs, aimed at maximum utilisation of his natural game during field restrictions. To do so in Test cricket, reeked of desperation to fit a precious talent into a side with no vacancies in the middle-order. Everybody knew that one of these two investments would pay rich dividends. Few could have accurately picked out the blue chip. Along with making Dravid keep wicket in LOIs, it was one of Ganguly’s boldest moves. Dravid’s sacrifice ran its course out with the 2003 World Cup high. Sehwag’s promotion was crucial to India’s ascent to the top of the ICC Test rankings.

Everything about Viru screams out for limited-overs stardom. And yet the man himself swears by the longer version. The relative regard in which he holds the different forms of the game is manifest in his career stats. He prides himself on being an exceptional Test batsman, when all big hitters seem to be going the other way. Mind you, I would too, if I could score at a run a ball and average more than Dravid and fractionally less than Tendulkar. He has scored 21 Test hundreds, and yet maintains he doesn’t care for centuries. Of course he does, not as a personal statistic, but as part of a bigger picture in how it impacts his team’s chances. As much as plays the charade of perverse pleasure in missing major milestones by a hair’s breadth, his gumption for big knocks is readily apparent. You might bat around a score of 100 by Dravid for a total of 400. Sehwag could be back in the hut after a ton, and India could still be 120/1. Paucity of bowling resources makes it imperative for Viru to bat longer, and yet score at blistering rates. In giving a weak attack sufficient time to take 20 wickets, he has been as much a fifth bowler as he would if he rolled his arm over more often to deliver his vastly under-rated off breaks.

When the Fab Five clench a fist, Sehwag sticks out like a sore thumb. The rusticity of a Vishal Bharadwaj in an age of popcorn rom-coms and clichéd chic-flicks. The insouciance of playground slang in a tradition founded upon textbook grammar. The travesty of Kaju Feni in a cellar of vintage Bordeaux. The scandal of Tandoori Chicken in a Tam-Bram meal. It is the nature of his game that deters us from bestowing greatness upon him like we do on Sachin & Dravid. And yet, when his case is backed by no less than Ian Chappell, you know it’s not just hyperbole. Of late, a century seems to be there for the taking everytime he steps out in whites. It is an extremely close call to pick Dravid ahead of him as star of the noughties. He has played some of the finest Test innings of the decade; 2 triple hundreds and another that almost was, all 3 knocks at a strike rate that’s once-in-a-lifetime! There was the classy double against a rampaging Mendis that showed him at his controlled best (not if you believe the strike rate though!). When Andrew Strauss declared leaving India almost 400 to get in a little over a day at Chepauk, Tendulkar found catharsis for the heart-wrenchingly narrow miss a decade ago at the same venue. The difference; he walked in at 6/2 in 1999, and at 131/2 in 2008, of which Sehwag had bulldozed 83 in 68 balls.

The man talks like he hits; straight and hard. Everybody thinks Boycott was a boring batsman and knows Bangladesh is crap. Few would say it on air and walk away caring a damn for the consequences. As incorrect politically, as he is technically. When Sehwag and Dravid put on 410 for the 1st wicket, one could almost see Dravid’s speech in his pocket. Sehwag said he hadn’t even heard of Vinoo Mankad & Pankaj Roy, let alone their record for the highest opening partnership! Street-smart and extremely canny, he doesn’t do diplomacy; not quite General, but a fine Subedar-Major. Charging his team along, leading from the front, invariably towards victory. After all, Viru will forever be associated with Jai.

TUSKY

Sunday, May 23, 2010

Dreams



Dream your dreams so high,

Let no one pull you down,

Dont let the world reach

That place, call it your own.

Forget the world and what they say,

Just let go of the noise

Then you will see the beauty

You will see the dream rise

Make it sacred

More sacred than a shrine

Go there when you need strength

Go for peace of mind

Dont let them touch it

Or even have a peek

Dont ever listen to them talk

Of what you "were meant to be"

Decide for yourself,

Stick to your dream till the end

Its not they who will be you

When you have broken dreams to mend.

Divs


Saturday, May 15, 2010

India Burns

Immersed in darkness

Lonely roads to trudge

Time cannot heal

The scars of an unforgotten grudge

Coz love can stay no more

Hatred engulfs all

Humanity forgotten

By sapiens big and small

Reason is a blur

Reasons don't affect

The fuhrers refuse to listen

Coz hysteria overrules intellect
The plebeian look on

As insane demons declare

War among brothers

Some sane heads bowed in silent prayer

Impervious to pleas

Stoic hearts don't melt

Sanguinary minds

Fuel riot, to instigate threat

The air tastes of sorrow

As the bereaved bury their dead

Crushed are virtues

As hypocrisy lifts its head

In the name of religion

Are sown seed of hatred

And from the chaos arises

A question of dread:-

WERE THE SACRIFICES ALL VAIN

OF MARTYRS OF THE PAST

WILL THERE BE A DAY

WHEN MOTHER INDIA BREATHS HER LAST?



Written in memory of the riots and wars that rocked our country.. Divs

Thursday, May 13, 2010

MEMORIES

Spring is in the air,
The flowers are in bloom,
But the heart wilts
Awaits an impending doom
A mist hangs around
In there sadness seeps
Cold and damp surrounds
The lonely heart weeps
Echoes come back
Of memories far away
Cherished Thoughts-
In distant times they lay
Tears stream down
Join the rivers of sorrow
How sweet, How Bitter,
The reminiscence of yesterday,
The dreams of the morrow
Roses have thorns
They prick it bleeds
Has it not to be borne.
For the fragrance so sweet?
And so this sorrow
Is nothing but that thorn,
So great is the joy
Of remembrances of the times bygone

Divs

Monday, May 10, 2010

Comesum. And then some

I have a bizarre memory association paradigm. A. R. Rahman conjures up images of Pataliputra colony in Patna, where I first heard Rukkumani Rukkumani. The music of Dil Chahta Hai fills my nose with the odour of turpentine, as we had our flat whitewashed around the time the movie was released. And watching Jerome Taylor bowl the other day was a throwback to a small eatery at the Bangalore City railway station.

It is the First law of Engineering that study vacations are anything but. Well, maybe except for the Electronics guys. The study break preceding the 7th semester exams was a milestone. It was to be the last time we would be required to pretend to study together; feelaaya weinn... sorry Gary, just could not resist! A bunch of us decided to immortalise this seminal occasion with an experience without which no Engineering education is complete – a holiday in Goa. It seemed the ideal way to bust stress from the said studying.... okay, pretending, before we diverged on our individual Satya ki Khoj to change the world, or a more earthly quest for naukri, chhokri and a higher degree (In case anybody is keeping score, yours truly is barely holding down the first, zilch on the other two).

First stop on our trip to hedonistic heaven: Bangalore. We trooped into the Comesum restaurant located on the landing just off the footbridge between platforms 1 & 2 to tackle hypoglycemia. The TV set above the cash counter was tuned to the Champions Trophy 2006 Australia-West Indies game. Gilly had just departed for a workmanlike 92, leaving the Aussies 5 down & 50 odd to get at about run-a-ball. With Michael Clarke & Mike Hussey in the middle, the smart money was on them. But Australia was a side we loved to hate.

Funnily enough, Clarke & Hussey could never get out of jail against some clever bowling by Chris Gayle & Marlon Samuels. After 4 overs of classic cat-and-mouse, with 29 required off 24, Dwayne Bravo was brought on. The gay abandon in his cricket always makes for compelling watching. The lukewarm paraanthe, raajma & daal chaawal on our plates all but forgotten as Bravo-to-Clarke had our undivided attention. Bravo’s repertoire of slower balls had already assumed a celebrity of its own, but would he give Clarke one when it was so painfully obvious? The first ball of his spell had loosener written all over it, or so we thought! Even as the batsman prodded forward (SUCKER!), Bravo had already moved to his left in anticipation, to take a fine return catch and complete a dismissal that stood out for its chimera. We didn’t know it then, but the best was yet to come.

Jerome Taylor resumed duty at the other end. A barrage of full wide deliveries kept the Aussies down to singles. Then Hussey banged into Taylor and they exchanged malicious stares. Murder in the air! Taylor looked like he was going to wipe the floor clean with Hussey. Straight & full on off stump. Bull’s eye! Cya later Hussey! I don’t remember how the bowler reacted but there certainly was some high octane fist-pumping and backslapping at Comesum. New man was Brett Lee, so the Aussies weren’t out of it yet, but the Windies definitely had their nose in front. Taylor charged in for the final delivery of the over with all eyes riveted on the TV. If we wanted to sneak out without paying, this had to be the moment! Straight, good length, frrrreaking fast, it was the thunderbolt from hell. Lee rapped on the pads even before he could jam his bat down. The Windies went up in appeal but a sense of theatre wasn’t lost on umpire Rudi Koertzen. We unleashed a torrent of profanity. An orgasmic delay followed, before the finger went up. The ten of us let out a roar ever so primal, and shook the dumbstruck proprietor out of his reverie. He recovered enough to realise that we had abused his hospitality well beyond business hours and proceeded to shoo us out. That Taylor would come back and finish off the hat-trick by cleaning up Brad Hogg in the first ball of the 50thover seemed almost pre-ordained. For the record, Australia fell short by 10 runs.

We walked out of the station with enough inspiration to persuade the impossibly lazy auto-wallahs of Bangalore out of inertia. Over the next week though, that exhilarating hour spent at Comesum would be forgotten in a hotchpotch of sun & sand, beach football, Goan seafood, Bacardi breezers and millions of goofy photographs.

Tusky

Wednesday, May 5, 2010

Wishes

I wish you were the early dawn
so i could wake up to you
I wish you were the moonlit night
so i could sleep with your thoughts on my mind
I wish you were little drops of rain
so i could trap you between my palms
I wish you were scented wisps of breeze
so i could feel you tousling my hair

I wish you were the blue skies
so i could reach out to you
I wish you were the green grass
so i could sense your presence all around
I wish you were a bud
so i could watch you blossom
I wish you were the stars
so i could gaze at you all night

I wish you were the song of the nightingale
so i could float with the melody
I wish you were the rustling of the autumn breeze
whispering sweet nothings into my ear
I wish you were the tolling of church bells
so i could feel your vibrations
I wish you were the strumming of guitars
so i could tango

I wish you were an illusion
so i could dream you
I wish you were a prayer
so i could chant your name all day
I wish you were christmas
so i could be merry
I wish you were my soul
so i could live on.........

Tusky

Monday, April 26, 2010

Period beauty

My life on campus was bookended by 2 ICC World Cups - flagged off & wrapped up by the best & worst Indian WC campaigns of my lifetime, respectively. Being a fairly average student, there was no way I could have completed my course in the duration between 2 T20 World Cups, so you may safely assume I’m talking about the 50 over variety. It was a good time to be following the Men in Blue, and be proud of them too. It was a period when Indian cricket challenged stereotype and broke new ground. Overseas victories, foreign coaches, 3-pronged pace attacks, clinical finishers, agile fielders, verbal chutzpah – a few of them rarely seen in Indian cricket, the rest never before. And also, for the first time in more than a decade of unquestioned supremacy, India’s premier batsman no longer answered to the name of Sachin Tendulkar.

Writing a tribute to a great Test cricketer in the space between the IPL and the ICC World T20, may seem like bad timing, and an anachronism. Rahul Sharad Dravid can never be accused of the former, but the latter bears considerable veracity in his context. He stands out like Khadi in the age of denim. Yeoman, but not Superman. In a men’s hostel, you could always tell whether he was batting or not, from the noise coming out of the TV hall. The room which could rival Woodstock for chaos otherwise, resembled a Zen monastery when our man took guard. It is such a pity that his early dismissal, would be cheered with great enthusiasm, for it invariably meant the arrival of Tendulkar, even when the latter’s trough coincided with Dravid’s zenith.

Perhaps his body of work is so highly steeped in the cerebral, that it cannot be appreciated by those of us blessed with a lesser ken. Anointed “The Wall” very early in his career, the sobriquet was a double-edged sword; at best, a grudgingly allowed encomium, at worst, a grossly unfair euphemism. Stonewalling may have been his calling, but it certainly wasn’t his mojo. Unlike his contemporary champions of the long haul – Kallis & Chanderpaul – Dravid is beautiful to watch. The enchantment of his craft unfolds with the elaborate flourish of the bat as it describes a perfect arc and stays poised for battle at the top of the backlift, innocent of sex appeal and yet pregnant with period beauty. A focused countenance betrays precise calculations to decide the fate of the delivery. The bowler might be dignified by a response if the probe is deemed meritworthy, or simply ignored if the questions are an insult to a highly superior intellect. He wasn't born to play to the gallery. He serves a higher purpose, that of soothing the senses. Call him boring, call him a geek, and I'll call u blind, nay, stupid.

It is set in stone that almost every major Indian victory over the last 10 years has seen a sizable contribution from Dravid, if not a stellar one. But think of all the big individual scores and massive partnerships that Indian batting of recent vintage boasts of, and you'll find that most of them were mentored by Dravid. Not only has he starred in one of the most successful Indian batting line-ups ever, he has been its engine room; and Statsguru will back me up on this. Neither Tendulkar nor Laxman have put on more runs with anyone else than with Dravid. The Ganguly-Dravid axis is second best to the Ganguly-Tendulkar combine, but not by much. Sehwag and Gambhir bat exceedingly well together, but their separate associations with Dravid have averaged higher than their opening sorties with each other. 7 century partnerships with Gambhir, 9 with Sehwag, 10 with Ganguly, 11 with Laxman. And no other pair in 133 years of test cricket has put on more century stands than Dravid and Tendulkar (17). It goes to show that while SRT's sparkling constructions of the 90s stood lonely at the top amongst depressing ruins, Dravid is blessed with the unique ability to inspire his peers, sometimes to the extent of lesser men bettering him. Never mind the Fab Five, he has saved & won matches with fringe players like Wasim Jaffer, Dinesh Karthik, Deep Das Gupta & Sarandeep Singh for company. Of course, he is capable of playing last man standing too, as borne out by his classic over-my-dead-body heroics at Sabina Park.

His exemplary selflessness in agreeing to keep in LOIs to accommodate the 7th batsman, so very central to a highly successful strategy adopted by Sourav Ganguly, is well docuemnted. Then there's the small matter of his world record 193 Test catches. And I haven't even begun to gush over the paragon of virtue and epitome of probity that he is.

Some things in life are timeless. Classical music, gourmet food and period beauty never go out of style. You can add Rahul Dravid's name to that list.