And So It Ends

Catch a snail and watch it every inch of the way until it completes the New Jersey Marathon. Or drop a little lactic acid bacteria into a bowl of milk and watch it turn into curd. Or watch the 2007 Cricket World Cup. As for interest levels and thrill factors go, they are more or less the same - no disrespect to the snails and the yeast microbes.

With respect to sheer excruciating length of the show, the 2007 CWC has only one competition. Sindbad from 'Dina Thanthi' (The Daily Telegraph), a daily in South India where the hero tries to slay a monster in a three-pane comic strip (Pane 1 Sindbad stares at monster, Pane 2 monster returns stare, Pane 3 Sindbad wondering aloud whether to use a curse or his sword to overcome the monster which would have died by that time due to old age). However, by the time the first round of matches were over, Sindbad had waded through a slew of such monsters and was wanting more which doesn't say much about the format of the WC. Eventually, Malcolm Speed 'felt' that the tournament might have been 'slightly long'. Ladies and Gentlemen, please put your hands together for The Understatement of The New Millenium.



As for predictability, there are a few close competitors viz. "Kolangal", "Arasi" and "Lakshmi" - three flagship television mega serials where, in a move of pure genius at writing screenplay, the writers have ensured that no matter how many episodes you miss, you would still be able to pick up the story right from the point where you left. Oh, and if you want to point out some unexpected twists in the WC where Bangladesh and Ireland qualified for the Pauper League, they are exactly as soppy as their mega serial counter parts at best. Don't believe me ?? By a show of hands, tell us if you really thought Bangladesh or Ireland had any chance in the Pauper League ?? Anybody ?? Helloooo ??

So, after few months of lugging it around, we get to see a final. No, we finally get to see players grope around in the dark while the match referees and umpires are unsure of how to complete the match when it is written in big, bold letters in the rule book. And yes in a dramatic event of gigantic proportions, Australia won the WC. By a hair's width of 50+ runs (where the hair in question is Keratin from a Rhino's horn). After decimating the opponent earlier in the day. For the third time in a row. And they are unbeaten in the WC for God-knows-how-long. Wasabi icing on Ladies-finger cake.

Some food for thought : How about a WC format where Australia have to play beat _every_ single team to win the WC ?? How about giving Kichaans (the thamizh equivalent of Handicaps) to the other teams and their players ?? Maybe just arrive at different winning criteria for australians (score twice the runs in half as many overs by losing a quarter of the wickets the opponents lost, and if case all criteria are met, the whim of the opposing captain) ?? Play clandestine World Cups when the Australians aren't looking ?? Just plain abolish the sport of cricket and wait for the Australians to forget the game and then start all over again ??

It is evident Cricket needs an overhaul. No, not politician-turned-administrators and no-good-businessmen with a foot-in-the-mouth disease. Not ridiculously whimsical fans whose idea of fandom is (a) having the same hairstyle as their hero or (b) destroying their half built house. Not terminally-greedy managers who hiked the ticket rates beyond a limit that the empty seats easily outnumbered the occupied ones for the semi-final between the world's top ODI team and the current world champion. And definitely not intellectuals who banned people from carrying musical instruments inside cricket stadiums inside the West Indies because of the noise. What next ?? Stripping astronauts out of their space suits because they are heavy ??

Cricket administrators need to buy a new dictionary and look up the word "Relegation". They also need to understand the meaning of the phrase "Tiered Leagues". Have Eight teams in Tier 1 and call it International Cricket. Have Eight more teams in Tier 2 and call it League Cricket. Just to make sure home-bred FTBs (Flat Track Bullies) don't bloat their records, divide cricket records into International and League so that the "Highest Scorer in International Cricket" is not someone with a 600 not out against Scotland and a 12.52 average against Australia. Let teams play test matches and one-dayers against opponents only within their tier. After every year or two, re-visit the rankings and relegate the bottom two teams from Tier 1 to Tier 2. Promote the top two from Tier 2 up to Tier 1. Rinse. Repeat.

Then sit back and see how Pepsi/Coke/Sudarmani Underwear sponsor a team that plays 3-test series and triangular championships against Netherlands and Bermuda.

Read on ... (at your own peril, obviously) ...

Pulling The Plug

On the 16th of April, 2007, brave students closed down the doors and held them with objects and their bodies as shields to protect their classmates. There were long lines queue outside the nearest blood banks in Blacksburg minutes after the news of the bloodbath had broken out. Prayers were held all around the world in memory of the people they don't even know. Internet forums were filled with consolations for families that lost loved ones. The man who delivers newspapers for the assassin's house swells up in tears thinking about the fate of the parents. You seem to understand why it rains during summer.



Immediately thereafter, the first auction opened up on ebay to sell URLs. The names are essentially a mix of the University's name and one of carnage/gore/bloodbath/massacre. They are touted as "unmatchable domain names for selling memorabilia". Other assorted websites are starting to host pictures of the massacre for sale. Certain section are already fearing racial prejudice so much so that their respective embassies issue a statement in that regard. Just about anyone who has a white coat and a fancy leather chair (a total number of, say, Z) is invited to offer psychological insights into the heads of would-be assassins on every single TV show (a total of 2xZ).

In The Near Future Everyone who is silent or keeps to himself is either going to end up in a strait jacket or in solitary confinement. A bored housewife would write her memoirs titled "How I Survived A Mass Murderer In The Neighborhood" with the words "Note: Author lives in Nevada. But has traveled within 25 square miles of Blacksburg in 2007" appearing in small print. It would also include 101 breakfast recipes in the last 101 pages of the 103-page book, but will not affect it's sale adversely. Hollywood will buy out the rights to film the story. They would make a token donation to the University and would offer to invite the bereaved for the premiere, provided they sign an 'No Interviews' agreement. They would also be given a 5 minute feature on the Special Edition DVD as a token of their gesture. All would be forgotten until someone else abuses his/her gun and dedicates it to Eric, Dylan and Cho.



Somewhere in outer space, The Omnipotent Few Who Are Watching Us From High Above are clearly frustrated at their experiment and moved another inch closer to pulling that plug from under Project Earth.

Read on ... (at your own peril, obviously) ...

Nethu Rathiri Yamma

Everyday I walk into office with red-shot eyes, the inevitable question of "Did you lose sleep last night" is raised. Everyone seems to have convinced themselves that its because the of the World Cup and I choose to let them believe. Saves a lot of embarrassing questions.

Before I go into this blog, a few disclaimers
1. I am not ashamed of the fact that my first time was in my late 20s.
2. I am not ashamed of the fact that it was almost an every day affair at home till few weeks back
3. I am not ashamed if people think I am not acting my age by posting about all this.



The problem in our country is that we always put up a very closed projection of ourselves to the public. We frame a set of 'rights' and 'wrongs' for our children. Thus, children aren't given the right exposure at the right time and when they become adults, its only obvious that they get attracted and even become enslaved to all that they missed when they were younger. If only I was allowed to indulge when I was younger, I am sure I would have gotten over it years back and this new found craze wouldn't be as demanding as it has become.

My first time (obviously when I was alone, what were you thinking) was just plain earth-shattering. But just as addictive. And after a while, you start telling yourself you are not addicted, but are just interested. But the truth is there for everyone to see. Closed rooms, prolonged hours with yourselves, showing physical strain and tiredness, the usual - I was well and truly an addict. This makes the part where you come out of the closet to explain things to people doubly difficult. I have had, and am still having a difficulty. But not anymore. Not after this blog.

My one request to all my brothers and sisters out there. Do not be afraid to confess. You are not alone. It is only human to develop a taste for it. Don't heed those sniggers from behind your back. They are all ignorant or jealous or both. Just keep getting better at what you are doing. One day, they would all know what they been missing.

Note : Text below emboldened, increased in size and generally made prominent after
a) a few mails which range from minimal insult to outright libel
b) a few mangled cooking pans at home. Surprisingly, their misshapen form resembles my silhouette.

Viva Final Fantasy XII. Viva God Hand. Viva PS2.

Read on ... (at your own peril, obviously) ...