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
Saturday, May 15, 2010
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
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
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
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.
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.
Monday, March 29, 2010
The Veteran of CATs
Once in a way life decides that you do not have enough excitement… and it throws you in the centre of a typhoon. Right now I am standing right in the midst of one…
Ok so ill start from where things usually start – the beginning silly!!! For four long years I have been trying my hand at what I think is India’s most Hyped Exam the Common Admission Tests (more popularly known as CAT). This year it actually was hyped with all the hullabaloo about the test going online. And predictions of the demise of the new online system even before it were given a chance to prove itself.
My track record began in my final year of college; I really did not know why I was giving the CAT except that I had to “further my education”. Fancy term it seemed then. So, I gave the exam without bothering too much to find out about the admissions. Obviously I bombed!!
The second time, I joined ABB at Bangalore, and I still wanted to “further my education” only this time it was just for fun. I tot I’d give ABB a try to gain some experience which counts, so I gave the CAT a light hearted try.. and surprisingly did quite well (Not well enough for the IIMs of course) but well I was kicking myself for not applying to any of the colleges. At that time experience that counts did not seem such a good Idea after all.. and the year dragged on.
I wonder if happens to all fresher, I was bored, yes too soon you may say. But two years into the job and when you are doing work which you think anyone with a basic knowledge of excel and math could do isn’t all that exciting is it? So, this time round I decided to give it my best shot! To further my education no longer seemed to be a fancy term or a light hearted trial. I dutifully did research of B schools, listed out ones I would be interested in and applied to each one of those. And I studied with respect to the exam too! Well… as fate (or whatever you call that abstract thing) would have it; this time once again I bombed not only in CAT but in all the other exams too…
Year four, I was a veteran now, a seasoned CAT writer.. I was doing pretty well at office; at least I had a better profile now! But still somewhere lurked the desire not to give up. That’s when life shrugged and dropped the next bomb.. There are only so many surprises that life can throw at you! CAT 2009 going online!! Thankfully the other B schools still considered the paper pencil test quite adequate for them. This I vowed was going to be my last shot, and hopefully my best. It’s funny you know, no matter how much one prepares; the best just does not seem good enough. All other B school results started rolling in..I was nowhere in on any list. The CAT result was the last to be declared, and of course was the most awaited. The number and types of rumors floating around made me wonder why there was a dearth of innovation in India.
The results were finally out. I was elated!!! Not bad on the border line of can be - cannot be. The uncertainty was unbearable! I even went to extent of changing my Gtalk status message as “Hanging on to the last thread of hope”. The IIMs of course were out of question. A month rolled by… I started doubting if I would make it anywhere… The Score was not good enough for MDI or IMT… So I gave up all hope.. I was kind of Shattered (that’s what my status message read).
It was a usual day at office. Not very eventful till there behold was a mail which read “Dear Divya Catherine Francis…. Congratulations! My heart leapt for Joy, Literally!!! Overjoyed, excited, thrilled, exhilarated, exalted all seem pale compared to what and where I was. Cloud 9 seemed too close to the ground..It was as if someone had just swept me off my feet and placed me on the moon. After a while the excitement did subside, and I went into a lower level of better conscience, but still am very much in the centre of a typhoon as I await my Interview. Please guys pray for me!!!
Ok so ill start from where things usually start – the beginning silly!!! For four long years I have been trying my hand at what I think is India’s most Hyped Exam the Common Admission Tests (more popularly known as CAT). This year it actually was hyped with all the hullabaloo about the test going online. And predictions of the demise of the new online system even before it were given a chance to prove itself.
My track record began in my final year of college; I really did not know why I was giving the CAT except that I had to “further my education”. Fancy term it seemed then. So, I gave the exam without bothering too much to find out about the admissions. Obviously I bombed!!
The second time, I joined ABB at Bangalore, and I still wanted to “further my education” only this time it was just for fun. I tot I’d give ABB a try to gain some experience which counts, so I gave the CAT a light hearted try.. and surprisingly did quite well (Not well enough for the IIMs of course) but well I was kicking myself for not applying to any of the colleges. At that time experience that counts did not seem such a good Idea after all.. and the year dragged on.
I wonder if happens to all fresher, I was bored, yes too soon you may say. But two years into the job and when you are doing work which you think anyone with a basic knowledge of excel and math could do isn’t all that exciting is it? So, this time round I decided to give it my best shot! To further my education no longer seemed to be a fancy term or a light hearted trial. I dutifully did research of B schools, listed out ones I would be interested in and applied to each one of those. And I studied with respect to the exam too! Well… as fate (or whatever you call that abstract thing) would have it; this time once again I bombed not only in CAT but in all the other exams too…
Year four, I was a veteran now, a seasoned CAT writer.. I was doing pretty well at office; at least I had a better profile now! But still somewhere lurked the desire not to give up. That’s when life shrugged and dropped the next bomb.. There are only so many surprises that life can throw at you! CAT 2009 going online!! Thankfully the other B schools still considered the paper pencil test quite adequate for them. This I vowed was going to be my last shot, and hopefully my best. It’s funny you know, no matter how much one prepares; the best just does not seem good enough. All other B school results started rolling in..I was nowhere in on any list. The CAT result was the last to be declared, and of course was the most awaited. The number and types of rumors floating around made me wonder why there was a dearth of innovation in India.
The results were finally out. I was elated!!! Not bad on the border line of can be - cannot be. The uncertainty was unbearable! I even went to extent of changing my Gtalk status message as “Hanging on to the last thread of hope”. The IIMs of course were out of question. A month rolled by… I started doubting if I would make it anywhere… The Score was not good enough for MDI or IMT… So I gave up all hope.. I was kind of Shattered (that’s what my status message read).
It was a usual day at office. Not very eventful till there behold was a mail which read “Dear Divya Catherine Francis…. Congratulations! My heart leapt for Joy, Literally!!! Overjoyed, excited, thrilled, exhilarated, exalted all seem pale compared to what and where I was. Cloud 9 seemed too close to the ground..It was as if someone had just swept me off my feet and placed me on the moon. After a while the excitement did subside, and I went into a lower level of better conscience, but still am very much in the centre of a typhoon as I await my Interview. Please guys pray for me!!!
Sunday, March 14, 2010
Citius Altius Fortius? No thanks
At last count, the 2008 Olympics were embraced by 11,028 athletes from 204 countries. That's about 10,900 more than the number of athletes that would be in action if all the top cricket teams of the world were engaged in battle at once. So cricket at the Olmypics? Does the IOC need us? And do we need them? Yes I've heard the quips, it would be India's best chance of a medal. That's not fair to Messrs. Bindra, Paes, Vijender, Rajyavardhan & Karnam Malleswari. But hey, cricket at the Olympics. Really?
What is so enduring about the Olympics? For every Carl Lewis, there is a Betty Cuthbert to teach us what the human body is capable of in the face of adversity. For every Jesse Owens who stood upto racism, there is a Jackie Joyner-Kersee who broke down the combined barriers of colour & sex. And there is Nadia non-pareil. How many of us can name a cricket "alpha-female?" To say that there aren't any is to be ignorant of a Diana Eduljee, reputed to be unplayable by Sunil Gavaskar, no less. It took the sister of a regular follower of the Ask Steven column on Cricinfo to remind us that while Sachin Tendulkar may have been the first man on earth to score an ODI double century, he certainly wasn't the first cricketer to do so, having been pipped to the post by Belinda Clark 13 years earlier. It is sad that the women's game is not given its due in terms of support of recognition. It is the single biggest reason why cricket does NOT deserve to be an Olympic sport.
All this talk of having T20 at the Olmypics bothers me. Who would you send to Cannes? Adoor Gopalakrishanan or David Dhawan? If at all there comes a day when cricket dresses in Olympic colours, I'd want it to wear white. When nations are competing for the highest quadrennial prize, it is the highest form of the art that ought to be on display. And yet it is not practically feasible to schedule a Test championship in a 3 week long Olympics. Heck, the ICC hasn't ever been able to squeeze in something remotely close to one. And so international cricket remains unique in crowning its world champion in all formats but the toughest one. I'd rather not have my favourite sport at the Olympics than see a T20 gold rush. We already have one of those by the way, it's called the IPL.
Cricket, along with the Telegraph & the Railways, is perhaps the most enduring Imperial legacy to survive the sunset of the empire. And that makes it one of the most prominent Commonwealth sports. So have it in the C'wealth games by all means. The experiment that failed in the KL 1998 Games deserves another chance. Delhi 2010 would have been an ideal platform, provided Sheila Dixit has the platform built in time for the Games :)
What is so enduring about the Olympics? For every Carl Lewis, there is a Betty Cuthbert to teach us what the human body is capable of in the face of adversity. For every Jesse Owens who stood upto racism, there is a Jackie Joyner-Kersee who broke down the combined barriers of colour & sex. And there is Nadia non-pareil. How many of us can name a cricket "alpha-female?" To say that there aren't any is to be ignorant of a Diana Eduljee, reputed to be unplayable by Sunil Gavaskar, no less. It took the sister of a regular follower of the Ask Steven column on Cricinfo to remind us that while Sachin Tendulkar may have been the first man on earth to score an ODI double century, he certainly wasn't the first cricketer to do so, having been pipped to the post by Belinda Clark 13 years earlier. It is sad that the women's game is not given its due in terms of support of recognition. It is the single biggest reason why cricket does NOT deserve to be an Olympic sport.
All this talk of having T20 at the Olmypics bothers me. Who would you send to Cannes? Adoor Gopalakrishanan or David Dhawan? If at all there comes a day when cricket dresses in Olympic colours, I'd want it to wear white. When nations are competing for the highest quadrennial prize, it is the highest form of the art that ought to be on display. And yet it is not practically feasible to schedule a Test championship in a 3 week long Olympics. Heck, the ICC hasn't ever been able to squeeze in something remotely close to one. And so international cricket remains unique in crowning its world champion in all formats but the toughest one. I'd rather not have my favourite sport at the Olympics than see a T20 gold rush. We already have one of those by the way, it's called the IPL.
Cricket, along with the Telegraph & the Railways, is perhaps the most enduring Imperial legacy to survive the sunset of the empire. And that makes it one of the most prominent Commonwealth sports. So have it in the C'wealth games by all means. The experiment that failed in the KL 1998 Games deserves another chance. Delhi 2010 would have been an ideal platform, provided Sheila Dixit has the platform built in time for the Games :)
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