Monday, April 04, 2011
World Cup Moment
“I had a point to prove. Not to anybody else but to myself”. These were simple words but in many ways reflect the significance of
If the 1983 win came as a pleasant surprise where a team of underdogs overcame much stronger teams by playing a brand of uncomplicated cricket, this latest campaign also came without the weight of expectations, media scrutiny and almost a demand by those who had invested millions to see results that matched their moolah. The intervening years saw the retirement of many of the 1983 heroes and it took a long time before
Had
In 2003, a good Indian unit reached the shores of South Africa but they were overshadowed by an Australian side at the peak of their dominance. An Indian side that was trying too hard to announce that they could match anyone with aggressive intent slipped up – Zaheer Khan’s 18 run first over after trying to sledge Gilchrist from the get go being symptomatic.
2007 marked
In these campaigns – whether it was “ambush marketing” where
It has been a gradual process of rebuilding and improvement since then – coinciding with the tenure of Gary Kirsten who believed in bringing out the best each player had to offer, a captain Dhoni, who remained equanimous and was secure about his strengths as a leader, player and team and also accompanied by the slow decline of the Australian side. And players like Yuvraj, Raina, Zaheer, Sehwag and Harbhajan who had seen the peaks and troughs of international cricket and who had time, during those troughs to reflect on their own strengths and realize what success at the highest level meant to them and how they had to condition themselves mentally and physically and also understand that success was not guaranteed by ability. Of course, a liberated Tendulkar, enjoying the most glorious late summers of his cricketing life but knowing that it no longer was him or bust, was the glue that held it all together along with Dhoni.
So when success came, it was not one that was achieved by mimicking
India Inc - one that includes not just the corporate bosses but those who go hand in hand from Bollywood to South Block in Delhi, was in full view at Mohali and Wankhede, ready to embrace the success of Team India and explore associations that would help further their own interests. There will be many who will define this success on terms that stand to benefit them in some way.
Much has been said about what this win might mean for India Inc. But what this means to the rest of us in India Exc (excluded) is equally if not more significant. Like the many who could not get tickets because they were not part of some club or the other. The many more who would have watched Dhoni clout that winning six on TV sets far away from the bright lights of South Mumbai, who finally had an image of our cricketers more enduring than them selling Cola or Engine Oil. The millions who would have gone to sleep wondering if the next morning would be as bright at the firecrackers that lit the night sky in Mumbai.
In the coming days and weeks, many things will be asked of these men. There are numerous interests that want them to be many things to many people – from peace ambassadors to brand ambassadors. Among the many roles these cricketers will be asked to play is to be one of the few bridges between India Exc and India Inc. And if that bridge endures, it will be more because of the fundamental human qualities of this victory that India Exc. will connect with at a basic level.
So, just like success achieved by Dhoni and his team looks and feels different from that achieved by Ponting’s team, perhaps our own successes will come in their unique flavor – be it in cricket or any other pursuit we choose. That we just need to look inwards and dig deep enough and persevere long enough. And that like Dhoni’s team, we will be judged not just by one tournament but how we do over a sustained period of time. When we seek success for the right reasons, surround ourselves with people that share that vision in its purest form and give it our all, our own private World Cup moment is within our grasp.
Saturday, July 15, 2006
Impacted by Wisdom teeth
Sounded pretty serious. Maybe I should do something after all, I said to myself. After all, if the idea of losing a molar doesn't spur you to act, what will?
So, I set up an appointment with the periodontal surgeon. From the time I entered the clinic, I felt like I was at a Toyota dealership to buy a used Camry. The sales guy was replaced by a doctor in a coat. And instead of trying to sell options in the car, he was trying to sell all the various services available to those who desired a better looking smile, i.e. putting a smile on every customer's face, literally.
"No, just the impacted teeth and crown lengthening please", I said. It turned out the total cost of following my dentist's orders to the "t", would be $2800. I thanked the surgeon and his staff and left, saying I would get back to them.
"$2800 is close enough to $3100", I told myself. So what, I hear you ask. Well, $3100 is the amount that AID Dallas the group I am part of, sent towards the Srikakulam Integrated Development Project in a cluster of villages on the border of Andhra Pradesh and Orissa.
The $3100 that we raised and sent enabled 500 households get electricity connections. It in part, supported a part of a library program where hundreds of children could spend their spare time reading stories, comics and educational material. It allowed our partners on the ground to educate people about their right to earn 100 days of employment according to a new goverment legislation. We also heard about some delightful personal stories from our partners on the ground - like how one of the village co-ordinators learnt how to ride a bicycle to enable her to get around quicker as she went about her work.
And then there was the Nirupedalu program, where a list of the poorest of the poor in the village was made. These were those who could not even afford two meals a day. Not to be deterred in the face of this grim reality, the villagers arrived at a simple solution by consensus - those with a surplus would put a small amount of rice/dal in an "excess bag" and every so often share the bag with their neighbours and friends in the village who needed it more than them.
In comparison, my endangered molar and the hoopla around saving it seemed cosmetic and a world away, literally and figuratively. So, I've decided to have my sister's dentist friend take care of it when I go to India in October for a nominal fee. And if it doesn't make it till then, I am sure I can make do with what I have.
Now remains one more small matter. To minimize the impact of my wisdom tooth removal, all I need to remember is to put away $2800 in my "excess bag".
Tuesday, March 14, 2006
Candle-light
Apparently, some sections of the press reported that the protesters were inspired by a very powerful scene from the recent Bollowood hit, Rang De Basanti. In the movie, an IAF pilot is killed while flying the dreaded MIG-29 Aircraft due to a faulty spare part. The Defence Minister squarely blames it on pilot error and neglect. The ensuing public outcry culminates in the mother of the pilot, played by Waheeda Rahman, leading a candle-light vigil at the India Gate demanding justice and her son's honor.
How a new generation of seemingly unlikely revolutionaries awaken is what the movie is about. These new brand of revolutionaries resort to a rather simplistic solution of violence in the end and the poignancy of the non-violent Candle-light vigil is somewhat undone, one might argue. What we can't argue with is that the movie itself struck a chord and has been a runaway success.
Now back to Jessica Lall. Late on an April night in 1999, 34 year old Jessica was working at a trendy bar frequented by Delhi's elite. Well past closing time, Manu Sharma, who is the son of a rich sugar mill owner and politician, demands a drink. Upon being refused, he allegedly shoots and kills Lall, with several people watching.
He is arrested, confesses, then retracts saying that his admission of guilt was under stress. Several years go by and several witnesses dramatically change their versions of what happened that night. And now, Sharma and his alleged accomplices are acquitted.
Traditionally, middle class, urban India has been a reluctant participant in protest marches, rallies, elections and the like. However, Jessica Lall seemed to have touched a chord with many. And the frustration with the ability of the rich and powerful to get away with murder, literally, seems to have triggered these unprecedented protests.
For now, they seem to be having some effect. For starters, the Delhi police have ordered a probe into evidence tampering in the case. While there have been no announcements about it, some acknowledge privately that the pressure from the public is going to be hard to ignore, as far as a retrial is concerned.
The Rang De Basanti style vigil seems to work. The SMS demands for retrial do seem to matter. Justice might not be elusive forever and with time, it might actually arrive.
And perhaps with time, we will learn not to look to Bollywood or NDTV to be the source of our collective social conscience. We might even come to realize that we don't need to look as far as Delhi to find instances of injustice.
And when we do come across injustice, here's to each of us finding it in us to light our own candle light.
Saturday, March 04, 2006
Bush Yatra: We want full disclosure!
What did President Bush eat for lunch when he was in Hyderabad?
How and why did the media miss out on this one? Did the CM of Andhra, YSR, feed him anything? I mean, were the Hyderabadi chefs unable to tickle the President's taste buds or what? Surely, if that was the case, this is an insult to the land of the Biryani. The most powerful man in the world comes calling and the journalists did not even report what he had for lunch?
Contrast that with the news from the previous day in Delhi, where we read about how Chef Oberoi put out an opulent platter featuring delicacies like Khumbi-ka-ras, Zaffrani Ghosht, Tandoori Salmon and Masala Chai Creme Brulee, among other things at Taj Palace. In fact, apparently, Bush approved of the food so much that he forgot to eat dessert because he was so busy thanking the chef for the outstanding food!
If that was lunch, dinner in Delhi was not to be left behind. Unlike previous state dinners, we are reliably informed, Rashtrapati Bhavan's chefs seem to have got their act together that night, serving up one appealing dish after another. The President and the first lady looked mighty pleased with the chow. And all this from a man who is not known to usually venture into ethnic fare.
Don't moments such as these make us all proud? Whether congress approves the nuclear deal remains to be seen, but for now, Bush's approval of desi food will do. After the much talked about nuclear deal, Bush's menu seemed to be the most featured news item.
Beyond the nuclear deal and Bush lunch/dinner menu, there were some other stories that were featured as tier-2 news items. For example:
** There was this story about how several Members of the Lok Sabha who staged a dharna in the well of the Lok Sabha on Thursday morning were also spotted at the Purana Qila on Friday evening to hear the President speak.
** Then, there was this story about how US embassy officials acted high handed with prominent members of the Indian press at Hyderabad house. Evidently, the journalists in question refused to comply until someone from the Ministry of External Affairs in the Government came to request them.
** The "beggar story" was also buried underneath the main headlines and pictures of Bush with farmers and artisans at the N G Ranga Agricultural University (axe, basket, straw hat and all). The story goes that several thousand beggars were "shifted" out of Hyderabad by the Government due to a perceived security threat that they posed to the most powerful man in the world and his world class security cordon around him.
** And finally, the protests. While news about the ceremonial parade, the 21 gun salute, the parleys at Hyderabad House and the press conference thereafter was being belted out on the networks, hundreds of thousands of people were protesting against Bush, some protests even leading to injury and two deaths.
These tier-2 news stories might have led to some debate. They might have even evoked passions and a diverse range of opinions.
In the meantime, I am sure someone will tell us what Bush ate for lunch in Hyderabad.
Sunday, January 29, 2006
Tendulkar: the beginning of the end?
Turns out, he actually had his hand off the handle at the moment of impact and hence might have been ruled not out had he stuck around for the decision.
If Moin Khan is to believed, Tendulkar was so terrified of Shoaib Akhtar steaming into bowl on the dreaded Faislabad pitch that he decided to bail out. Fair enough? Well, after all Shoaib is one of the most feared bowlers of our time and he was pretty charged up (ask Dhoni for he bowled one aiming for his throat not too much later). Could Moin be on to something here?
Well, let us see.
The Faislabad pitch was indeed dreaded. Up until the point Sachin did his hasty retreat, no fewer than 824 runs had been scored in the test match for the loss of 12 wickets. When Sachin walked into bat, the score was 236 for 2.
The Faislabad wicket was indeed turning out to be a dreaded one. But not for anyone carrying anything remotely resembling a bat.
So, what is Mr. Khan talking about? Isn't it absurd? I mean, how dare he accuse a great like Sachin of running away from fast bowling on a dead pitch?
But then again this is just the next in the series of phases that Tendulkar and the circus that goes along with his insitution goes.
1989 to 1990: Debut at the age of 16. Breath of fresh air phase.
1990 to 1996: Young genius flaying attacks across the world phase.
1996 to 2004: The best batsman in the world phase.
2004 to now: No longer the best but senior statesman/run accumulator phase.
And now, in 2006, Moin has begun the debate on whether this is the "beginning of the end" phase.
All through these different phases, corporate houses, journalists, authors, editors, politicians, cricket administrators, coaches, agents and commentators alike have ridden the wave.
His emergence coincided with a time when sweeping changes were underway. Markets were being liberalized. Doordarshan was giving way to Cable Television. With Gavaskar having retired and Kapil Dev on the decline, a fresh, young, dynamic figure-head was needed.
Back in in those days, there were no Paes/Bhupathi, Sania Mirza, Miss World titles, Infosys, Lagaan at the Oscars or American Presidents coming the Delhi way.
Sachin was the good news everyone was waiting for. And often times, the only good news around.
All through the saga from 1989 to date, a multi million dollar industry has thrived with him at the center. It showed stellar growth in the pre -Dravid/Sehwag/Yuvraj days when he was the only wicket standing between opponent teams and victory. It continued to flourish through the dark days of match fixing where he emerged squeaky clean. It got a shot in the arm when he returned from his Father's funeral to be with the World Cup squad. Even an indifferent captaincy reign and a series of painful injuries did not prevent the industry from chugging along nicely.
Books were written. Newspaper columns by former and current players paid their "Tendulkar tax" faithfully. Visiting team captains were made to mouth a tribute to him in every interview conducted on Indian soil. Commentators were besting each other to win the "Praise Sachin" contest. Awards were bestowed from a range of people from Tyre companies to the President of India. And of course, he was out there selling us everything from energy bars to automobiles and everything in between.
In the post 2004 era, the industry slowed down. Sehwag, Yuvi and Dravid now sell more on TV. Rival captains now talk of others as being the prized scalp. And Mandira Bedi can talk about others without feeling guilty. Most pundits would probably agree that Tendulkar has at least another couple of years at the highest level. I mean didn't Steve Waugh score most of his runs at the twilight of his career?
So, there is still some life left in the Tendulkar industry. And it is that life that Moin Khan is trying to latch on to.
What better way to do that than to question how much life he has left.
Wednesday, February 23, 2005
Faster, Higher, Stronger!
To me, these words bring forth images of Carl Lewis and his four gold medals in 1984. Of Greg Louganis and his famous comeback from the brink of serious injury in 1988. Of Michael Jordan and the dream team in 1992.
And now, these words bring to me images of the Freescale Marathon in Austin, TX on Feb 13, 2005.
No, there were no famous names running it. And no, I am not even referring to the people on the eventual leader board, who finished the marathon in a very competitive 2 hours and something.
I am referring to some people whom I saw finish the race in 5 hours and longer. That was then I was near the finish line, waiting for my brother-in-law, Tom to finish the grueling 26 mile run after he had prepared for it for several months.
As we waited for him to come down the home stretch, the wait turned out to be a little longer than expected as we got in about 30 minutes sooner than his expected completion time.
In the absence of too many alternatives in terms of things to do, I ended up watching the people who were nearing the finish line. I looked around and saw people - young and old, of all shapes, sizes and colors standing by to usher their loved one or friend and cheer them on to the finish line.
And as I began paying more attention to the runners themselves, I experienced an emotion that I least expected. There was something very moving about watching these people as they trooped in, huffing and puffing, mustering that last bit of energy to see them through.
As the runners came in, some were in good shape, actually working the spectators to cheer for them. The spectators readily obliged. After all, running 26 miles was no mean achievement. Other runners waved and asked their little sons or daughters to join them for the last 20 meters to share in the pride of their accomplishment.
Some had t-shirts that read "Because I can" or "Believe". One runner, cramping in both his calves, hobbled across the finish line in excruciating pain. We would later learn that an 84 year old man had finished the race.
And I remember the moment when Tom ran past us. The look on his face, as he saw his family urging him on, said it all. He was visibly moved to see the familiar faces of family see him complete his personal adventure. He, like so many others who ran that marathon, wasn't looking to compete with anyone when he started out. He did it because he thought that the marathon would teach him a thing or two about physical fitness, discipline, mental strength and maybe even a few things about himself.
It was an exhilarating experience to watch these people emerge triumphant in their own unique struggles. They were driven by a desire to win, but it was not about beating someone. For those of us watching, it offered an inspiration to reach out for something that was probably within our grasp but also somewhere we could not reach without going through the obvious pain.
It then came to me. Faster, higher and stronger wasn't just about professional athletes being pitted against one another to win Gold medals. It wasn't about the soap opera style coverage on NBC that we have gotten so used to.
I did not have to fear that the Olympic spirit had been tainted by athletes using performance enhancers. For it was that very Olympic spirit that so many people who ran this marathon embodied.
It was about being faster than they had been a month back. It was about reaching for something higher than they normally reach for. And it was about their quest to become stronger. Stronger in the body and stronger in the mind.
For a little while that afternoon, it seemed like we could all become faster, higher and stronger. And not even at the expense of anyone.
Thursday, February 17, 2005
At the doorstep
Last December was no exception.
My Mom (Amma), sister (Akka) and I got off the Rickshaw on the main street and walked through the long lane, lined by shops on both sides, that led to the Gopuram. Like all shops near temples, especially in Southern India, they carried things like coconuts, turmeric, kum-kum, camphor, betel leaves, devotional music CD and tape collections, bangles and of course flowers.
The shop that was closest to the Gopuram is the one we chose to pick up the flowers and coconuts from. We duly paid the shopkeeper and rushed off towards the temple as they would temporarily shut down the gate in 20 minutes. That would mean we would have to wait another hour or so before we have the next opportunity.
As we were about to join the queue, we were reminded by signs that Cell Phones were not allowed inside the premises and that we would have to drop them off at the counter opposite. The long queue at the cell phone drop off/pick up counter deterred us. With the closing time approaching quickly, I suggested that we drop off the cell phones with the shopkeeper from where we had bought out coconuts and flowers.
We deliberated for a minute. "Would the phones be safe?", "Why take a risk?", "What were we thinking - we should never have brought the phones with us".
Finally, we decided that the choice was to leave the phones at the shop and make it in time or to queue up at the cell phone counter understanding that we might only make it in time for the next darshan the next hour. We opted for the former.
I ran to the shopkeeper and told him our predicament and asked if he could help me out by keeping the two cell phones with him. He seemed a little taken aback and asked me if I was sure. I said I was. He then said - "If you trust them with me, you can leave them here. My name is Srinivas. Ask for me when you return".
I found myself feeling better about our decision and quickly ran back to join Amma and Akka. We got in fine, offered our coconuts and flowers, sat for a while in the square outside this 500 year old temple and then slowly made our way back.
We then returned to the shop that Srinivas ran. I half expected that he would see me and hand back the phones to us. He didn't. So, I gently reminded him that I was the guy who left the phones with him. He thought for a second, which seemed an eternity to me, as I was fighting my paranoid side. He then reached out for the phones, safely tucked away on a shelf to his left, wrapped in a rubber band and handed them to me.
I was relieved. And thankful. I then whispered to Amma that she should buy a few more things from his shop. So. we did. A couple of candle stands I think. The total came to some 30 odd rupees. I slipped him a fifty rupee note and said a sincere thank you and was beginning to walk out of the shop, expecting him to keep the change as a gesture of my gratitude.
I felt a gentle tap on my shoulder. It was Srinivas. Handing me back the change, he politely but firmly said: "No need for this, Sir. After all you already bought coconuts, flowers and the stands from us ".
He had a smile and a look that almost seemed to say: "Who did you think I was?". I quickly realized that it was futile to persuade him to change his mind. I took the change, made a somewhat sheepish gesture with my hand to say thanks and left his shop.
At the doorstep of his Govindaraja Swami, Srinivas did not need anything from me.
