Sleeping through the static

Mussoorie Days - column for GQ India, August 2011 issue

2011-08-16T18:07:00.000+05:30

2011-08-13T22:08:00.002+05:30

A shellacking, a hammering, call it what you want. It wasn't pretty, and India have much soul-searching to do. But instead of going crazy and hammer and tongs at the team, we need to accept that that India were just poor, and were beaten by a very good team. England won session after session, leaving India with very little to clutch at. They came in at them and didn't allow much room to breath or flex their muscles.

Their lower order was far superior to India's, which in the first two Tests was rolled over. On day one at Trent Bridge, England lifted themselves from 85 for 5 to 221 with the last two wickets adding 97 runs. Conversely, India capitulated from 267 for 4 to 288 in a matter of six overs. In their first three innings, India lost their last five wickets for 46, 36, and 15 runs. It was heartening to see MS Dhoni and Praveen Kumar offer some fight in both innings at Old Trafford, and for India's sake lets hope this inspires the batsmen.

Crucially, England's catching has been superior. Their batsmen have all scored. They have failed to cross 300 even once. Where England have so far managed ten century-plus partnerships, India have just one. England's wicketkeeper has been also excellent. And then there are the bowlers.

Some will point to the bowlers that helped win the Ashes in 2005, but when Ian Botham and Bob Willis, England's top two Test wicket-takers, say that this is the best England attack they've seen, that is some tribute. James Anderson has led the way for a great bowling attack over the past couple years, Stuart Broad has evolved splendidly, and Tim Bresnan has stepped up after injury ruled out Chris Tremlett, himself a fine bowler. Anderson is in a great place as a pace bowler, and the manner in which he picks up big wickets is testament to his class. Broad has been the most compelling player of the summer, and the way he grabbed a hat-trick during the second Test was immense. To turn a match in seven deliveries, that too after Rahul Dravid has batted six hours to set a platform, is an incredible achievement.

Bresnan has been outstanding with bat and ball and brought a definitive edge to the team. He is a quality allrounder finding his place in this Test team a couple years late, but his attitude and enthusiasm will keep him in good stead. His bowling on slow pitches has been near outstanding, and his ability to hammer away and make things happen is Bresnan's greatest asset. The success of these three fast bowlers has smoothed over the indifference of Graeme Swann this series. Broad's hat-trick aside, the highlights have been Anderson's inswinger to remove VVS Laxman on day four at Trent Bridge and Bresnan's corker to bowl Dravid on day one at Old Trafford. That is what quality teams aspire to achieve, and there is no doubting that England possess a very fine bowling attack.

So yes, lets accept that India were beaten severely by a superior team. They were woefully under-prepared, as a result of a cramped calendar. This is a systemic issue which which needs to be addressed or else India will struggle to reclaim the top spot and hold on to it. The batsmen will bounce back - though there is plenty of work required on how to play bounce - but the bigger issue is the imminent transition that awaits Indian cricket. Dravid and Laxman will, in all probability, call it quits after the tour to Australia, and how much desire Sachin Tendulkar has to play Test cricket is anyone's guess. Virender Sehwag is two injuries away from ending his career, and the worry is that there isn't enough quality on the horizon. Yuvraj Singh remains susceptible at Test level and Suresh Raina has much work to do before he looks a convincing Test player.

More worrying is the state of the bowlers. The inconsistency of Ishant Sharma and Sreesanth is a big concern and the management really must be harsh on the pair. Zaheer Khan's four-month absence is sure to curtail his Test career, and the lack of quality replacements is an issue that will plague India in the future. Most alarming is the state of India's spin bowling.

Ravi Shastri believes India's focus this year was the World Cup, and that having secure that trophy after a 28-year wait, it should not be alarming that India have slipped into a bad patch. This comment came on air during another debate about what Indian cricket's priorities are. Defenders of the IPL - and there are a few - are saying that to label the IPL as the villain is incorrect and that the BCCI's focus should be on all three formats. There should be room for Twenty20 in the international calendar, but was it wise to schedule the IPL six - SIX! - days after the World Cup final? This only shows the greed with which Indian cricket is run. There is minimal, if any, concern about the fitness of players. The World Cup, played over 43 days, followed by the IPL, spanning 51 days and 74 matches? If that is what defenders of the IPL mean by allowing all three formats to happily co-exist, that is complete rubbish. Scheduling a Twenty20 tournament six days after India clinched a trophy they had striven for for 28 years? That is a joke.

This is the wake-up call Indian cricket needed. The BCCI has to provide answers and look at how it runs its cricket; they will have to re-look at schedules and workloads. It won't be easy for India to bounce back, but they can.

2011-08-10T12:31:00.000+05:30

Links to latest pieces for GQ India: on Dravid's ODI recall and what India can learn from the Test series. More to follow.

2011-08-08T16:02:00.000+05:30

There are some cricketers who manage to endear themselves to individuals for various reasons. I'm not talking of superstars or legends of the game, but of those smaller figures who, for one innings or shot or spell or catch or celebration or series, left an impression. For me, one such cricketer is Robert Croft.

Croft played only 50 one-dayers and 21 Tests for England, and will probably be remembered as an international cricketer more for his gritty unbeaten 37 scored in over three hours - and which made up for three wicketless Tests- to help seal a famous draw against South Africa in 1998 and for his decision not to tour India in 2001 because of security concerns more than for his prowess as an offspinner. For me, however, Croft will always be a cherubic fighter.

I never saw him bowl live in a first-class game, but through telecasts of Benson & Hedges matches and clippings in newspapers and Sportstar when in school in the Himalayas, found myself drawn to his pudgy offspinner. He just looked like he was having a great time doing what he did, never mind that the wickets columns rarely reflected anything special. I first read about Croft in 1997, when his picture found its place in the back pages of The Hindu and subsequently in Sportstar, after he took seven wickets in England's win over New Zealand in Christchurch.

There was his face, lit up in celebration after scalping a wicket, as his England team-mates rushed to Croft. Having not seen him bowl, I imagined how he bounded up to the wicket based on Ted Corbett's copy, of how he turned his arm over during a marathon spell of 39.1 overs, which resulted in career-best figures of 5 for 95 in just his fifth Test. The report in The Hindu spoke of how England's attack on the day had been wayward, but how Croft bowled with much heart and discipline, and there were words of praise from the coach, David Lloyd.

It was around this time that I myself took to offspin in a big way. I imagined myself as Croft, a smiling, gentle tweaker of the ball. Once I caught his action during a B&H match on Star Sports, I did my best to mimic it. Of course the results were nowhere as fluent and easy on the eye.

I did my best to follow Croft's England career. These were days when the Internet had not yet spread to our school, and so all I had to rely on were the newspapers and Sportstar. As the dailies mostly dedicated space to India, I relied mostly on Sportstar, and it sufficed. I read of how well Croft bowled on the tour of Zimbabwe, but then found his name wasn't taken as frequently. That meant that wickets weren't coming.

Then, in the summer of 1998, I went to London. South Africa were in England for a full series, and there was talk in the dailies of how Croft should be dropped. I knew he had not been in the wickets, and expected his name to be chopped from the squad. One day while at Lillywhites at Piccadilly Circus, I saw Croft, Nasser Hussain and Mark Ealham in the store for a promotional gig. Excited, I got into line and with a miniature bat which a relative had kindly purchased for me, handed it to the three England players. Here was the bowler whose career I had followed in Indian newspapers and magazines, and who I had not heard much of for a few months. Croft smiled his genial smile, asked my name, and duly scribbled on the bat. A week later, his name and pictures found their way back into the UK sports pages positively, because of his gritty innings at Edgbaston. However, an extended run of poor bowling form saw Croft dropped.

Back in India, and with the Internet now starting to become prominent, I was able to follow Croft's career on a regular basis. I did this while in college in the USA too, and eagerly checked the county scores to see what Croft was up to. He was in the wickets in a big way in 2000, and was recalled to play against West Indies. But he again failed, and was dropped. Croft spoke negatively of the England camp, only to blame "media misrepresentation" for the furor that followed. A few years later he was again recalled, for England's tour to Sri Lanka, but did nothing of note.

In early 2004 Croft announced his retirement, finishing his England Test career with 49 wickets at 37.24. As unobtrusively as he he had slipped onto the international scene, Croft stepped away. I continued to followhis county career closely, and was pleased when he captained Glamorgan to the one-day title in 2004, scoring 671 runs at 35.31 and taking 54 wickets at 34.55. I imagined him plugging away, with that jump at the wicket and that animated celebration whenever he snared a wicket.

In 2010, at the age of 40, Croft became the first Glamorgan player to 1,000 wickets 10,000 runs. He still plays for his beloved county, and I recently saw him bowl a maiden in a Twenty20 match. Last week I came across a good interview with Croft on Star Cricket, one conducted by SKY's sports correspondent and one-time England batsman Ian Ward. It was a touching interview, with the affable and self-deprecating Croft talking about his illustrious career with Glamorgan, from chubby teenager to record-breaking bowler, and his stints with England. He was the same Croft, laughing and bubbly and keen about his craft and it was a treat to watch him chat about his career. Thanks for the memories, Crofty.

Dravid's recall: a knee-jerk reaction

2011-08-06T15:24:00.001+05:30

Once again, youth has been jettisoned, the system has been done away with, journalist's Saturdays have been ruined and, quite amazingly, Rahul Dravid is back in the one-day team. The same Dravid who was dumped twice over the last four years and overlooked for the World Cup, a chance he silently pined for. WTF?

The decision, we are told, is a pragmatic, immediate one: the team is marred by injury and needs Dravid's vault of international experience - he is the seventh-highest run-scorer of all time, with 10,765 runs in 339 matches - and his innate ability to scrap and hold together an innings.

But the man in question is 38 years and 207 days and hasn't played an ODI since September 2009, after being recalled two years from being dropped. The scenario then? India's young hopefuls had failed to cope in testing conditions in the lead-up to the Champions Trophy in 2009. The scenario now? Injury to Yuvraj Singh, Cheteshwar Pujara's absence through injury, the apparent need for solidity in tough conditions, and the selectors' lack of faith in Yusuf Pathan, Subramaniam Badrinath and Manoj Tiwary, who were part of the ODI set-up in the West Indies prior to this tour.

Beyond the headlines that Dravid will dominate, there is a bigger issue at hand - why and how this selection came about. Were there really no options beyond Dravid? Have the young men in whom the selectors had earlier placed faith failed to make the grade? Keeping in mind the future of Indian cricket, would it not have been a bad move to bring in Tiwary or Ajinkya Rahane, giving them a a chance to taste English conditions? Or to look back on Robin Uthappa, perhaps see if Ambati Rayudu actually has the goods? To give youngsters the chance to spend time in the dressing room, to tour international venues, to soak in the team culture?

The message to the younger is brigade is clear. Sorry kids, you aren't up to scratch. Yusuf bhai, your 56 ODIs haven't inspired us. Badri, you're still not international quality. Ajinkya, runs for the Emerging Players side in Australia don't amount to much. Manoj, umm ... yeah ... well ... you know. Uthappa, Rayudu ... the IPL isn't actually a springboard for Indian talent.

There has been no batting crisis for the one-day world champions. The top three spots are fixed. Suresh Raina, Virat Kohli and MS Dhoni make up the middle order. Success or failure would have surely come in handy for the youngsters like Tiwary and Rahane. What does Dravid have to gain from five ODIs?

Given his form of late, and especially in seam-friendly English conditions, Dravid's selection would make sense if he were four years younger. But it is clear that the BCCI is not thinking of Dravid the ODI player beyond the upcoming five-match series. India's next ODI assignment is a five-match series at home on placid tracks against England, where they will surely not need Dravid. Yuvraj will be fit, Pujara should be available too, and knowing the BCCI, it won't at all be surprising if they pluck Tiwary or Pathan for fixtures in Hyderabad, Delhi, Mohali, Mumbai or Kolkata. It is, after all, India. Where the World Cup was one. Where Pathan can clobber 60-ball centuries. Where survival isn't necessary - notice Guwahati isn't a venue - and where players can drive off the front foot without worry.

India have enough players to field an XI without Dravid, but after recalling him, the management would do the man a huge disrespect by not playing Dravid. In November, Harsha Bhogle wondered whether Dravid was too caught up in the mechanics of survival to flourish. Since then, Dravid has responded with runs a aplenty, in conditions as diverse as Nagpur, Centurion, Kingston, Lord's and Trent Bridge. He is in a very good spot as a Test batsman, once again, though at the end of his glorious career. And he has never officially announced his retirement from ODI cricket. But is a one-day recall the right thing for Dravid? And for Indian cricket?

2011-08-02T17:42:00.001+05:30

Two bad losses in a row. Bad bole toh ... BAD. Defeats by 196 and 319 runs is massive. The better side has won, and the poorer side has much to reflect on. But you win some, you lose some. India haven't looked a No. 1 side all tour, and they've been guilty of letting England off the hook several times during the past two Tests. They've got only themselves to blame because they had chances to shut England out on all of the first three days.

You have a team on the mat at 124 for 8, and then allow them to score 221. Then you get a lead of 40 with six wickets in hand and end up with a lead of 67. And on the third day, India's generosity in the field - what was Dhoni doing with his fielders? - meant they went from chasing 275 to over 478. That is poor cricket and you aren't doing yourselves any favors by ending up in such situations. Not the cricket of a No. 1 side, and the way India are shaping up means they will have to play extremely good cricket to retain their ranking.

Of course, India with Sehwag, Gambhir and Zaheer is a much different side, and they will fight in the remainder of the series. Of that you can be sure. England have been exceptional in patches, most notably through Stuard Broad who seems to be on a different level currently. His bowling has been relentless and his batting has come along wonderfully. He's shrugged off criticism in the best manner possible and is in a really good place as an athlete right now.

Dhoni just didn't seem to be there over the past two Tests. The one time he woke up, he ended up recalling an appeal against Ian Bell which has polarized opinion. Was Dhoni right in recalling Bell, who was a complete chump in assuming Tea had been called and walked off? It was a daft thing to do, as Bell himself admitted to. All this jazz about Dhoni's action being sporting and morally correct and "the right thing do do" is not for me. Bell was naive, but there are laws in place for a reason. You cannot just shove them aside just because one set of people are being booed or termed unsporting or because it could leave bad blood between the two sides. This is sport, and its not always fair. Men are playing it, not boys.

What business did Strauss and Flower have in knocking on the Indian dressing room? There was no anger, disrespect or nastiness in what happened on the field. No law was broken, no umpire questioned or denigrate. The laws had been adhered to, by Mukund, Dhoni and the umpires. As a friend says, if it had been Steve Waugh who opened the door, he would have told Strauss and Flower just where to go.

Obviously the mud is flying. But its not the disaster its being made out to be. India were undercooked, missing some key players, and had some bad luck. Athletes will tell you that getting to the top isn't as hard as staying there, and for India the challenge is to improve. They have not been consistently challenged, and when they have been pushed in every department by England in successive Tests, they've fallen flat. The need, for the BCCI, is to prioritize, as Nasser Hussain pointed out. Easy to say, tough to implement. They didn't have back-up batsmen, and to rely on the same bunch of jokers who comprise a weak bench is not productive.

The challenge is to manage the talent and the calendar. Its clear that Test cricket is not the priority for the decision-makers, and that's not the way to go forward. England have caught up, so too will South Africa. What then?

2011-07-30T23:06:00.001+05:30

Better days of Test cricket are hard to come by. This is what we live for, the kind of battle we flock to the grounds to, put aside work and other daily activities and chores for, skip work for, the reason some of us become sports writers. Those of you who happened to be at Trent Bridge to day, I envy you.

The first session, to India. Dravid and Laxman, Indian cricket's third best partners of all time, but who had

never batted together in the first over of an innings before yesterday, once again seeing their side out of tricky spot. From the rigor and caution of the first evening, to the confidence and panache of the second morning. Laxman, the aggressor, cutting and driving and pulling, supple of wrist and keen of eye. Dravid, the indefatigable, pushing and leaving and tucking and dabbing and steering. Laxman, seeing the ball and judging the length early, playing late and punching through the line and on the rise. Dravid, quick to come forward and then deflect the ball with soft hands. Two artists, Picaso and Warhol, coming together to paint a canvas of luminous quality.

The morning came alive with four consecutive boundaries, two each to Laxman and Dravid either side of two overs. Ten boundaries in the first hour, six to Laxman, all off James Anderson. Laxman, pulling superbly, playing the shot with which he was dismissed in the second innings at Lord's with purpose. A whiplash cut, a flowing drive, two open-faced steers and two purring pull shots. Nothing violent.

No movement as on day one, and the arc behind point proved especially productive for Dravid and Laxman. Dravid, what more to say? One of his best centuries, up there with Adelaide and Trent Bridge (2002) and Rawalpindi, admitted by the man who witnessed such epics at close range, Sourav Ganguly. Every run was sweated over and carefully planned.

Laxman, chatted up and needled by the fielders. He and Dravid competing with each other, a lovely engagement. When one drove, the other attempted the same. When one steered wide of backward point, the other, rubber-wristed, placed the ball out of gully's reach. In between, testing stuff from Stuart Broad, who but for one delivery in the first session bowled only at Dravid.

And then, when it seemed Laxman would ease past his highest score of 74 in England, he fell, nicking a gem of a delivery from Tim Bresnan. Soon after it was Tendulkar, playing a poor shot. Trouble? Not quite, as Dravid settled the nerves by guiding four to third man to raise his fifty, off 131 balls; the runs to deliveries ratio reflected his graft. Dripping with purpose, Dravid shook of a blow to the right wrist and with Yuvraj, out after Raina sliced a wide ball to point - India still 82 behind at that stage - formed a sturdy alliance. Swann was attacked, clattered for three fours in one over. Trott fell to the ground attempting a save, hurt himself, and went off the field. Andrew Strauss once again misused a review. Safely, India took tea.

And then, England's man of the moment, Broad. Bowling fast and hard and with gusto, knocking India back. Again the match swung, and how. Dhoni, Harbhajan and Praveen gone in three deliveries, a fantastic hat-trick for Broad. From a position of control, and one from where visions of a big lead loomed, India slid from 267 for 4 to 288. England's spirits soared, India's sagged.

There was Dravid, watching in horror. And so he threw bat on ball, scampering to a splendid century - his third in the last five Tests - and finishing on 177. A magnificent effort, but a lead of 67. India had the final word, however, with Ishant Sharma removing Cook cheaply. England 24 for 1 at the close, behind by 43.

A day of rock climbing. India scrambled a couple of meters, then pulled back before regaining balance and moving forward again through Dravid and Yuvraj. The biggest slip came in the final session, when Broad grabbed five for five in stunning manner and England's resilience came to the fore. The self belief was immense, the joy of such a stunning comeback palpable. Ishant's strike at the end of the day gave India reason to smile, and now they will strive for some dragging down on the third day. The scales tipped often, and this match is tantalizingly poised after another gripping, low-scoring day.

2011-07-28T17:01:00.000+05:30

Trent Bridge, the scene of a famous draw in 2002 and an epic win in 2007. India return to the venue having lost the first Test, and look in some trouble. Virender Sehwag is still not available and Zaheer Khan is a doubtful starter. They appear shaken, though not by any means down and out. With or without Zaheer, they will have to shape up and play a lot better than they did at Lord's.

Lets back the truck up a bit. Should we be surprised India lost the first Test? Taking nothing away from what India have achieved over the past few years, they had little time to acclimatize, had rusty players returning from injuries, and were without Sehwag. They lost, but weren't steamrolled. It wasn't a crushing loss. They will pick themselves up. That's what good teams do.

India have been No. 1 in Test cricket for some time. They've beaten Australia, England, Sri Lanka at home. They drew with South Africa home and away. They won in New Zealand, drew in Sri Lanka. There have been some fantastic wins in their ascent to the top spot, and thereafter too - Chennai, Hamilton, Colombo, Mohali, and Durban. Also, there have been commendable draws - Napier and Cape Town. But there have also been defeats like the one at Lord's - Colombo , Nagpur, Galle and Centurion. Five defeats in four years says that this is a very good side.

But, is it a champion side, fair earners of the No. 1 tag? No. In winning these matches and series, did India look like a champion side? In spurts. Never did they carry an aura of invincibility that previous West Indian and Australian sides have. They have never intimidated by their presence on the field. A few Australian and South African bowlers have admitted being cautious of Harbhajan Singh, but never was there any apparent feat in the way India took the field.

The bowling has always been suspect. Zaheer has been the workhorse; Harbhajan inconsistent; Ishant and Sreesanth unreliable; Mishra never convincing; Ojha too safe; Mithun too raw. That India managed to win as many Tests and move to top of the pile is proof of how much they have eked out of such an inconsistent bowling attack and how much they have relied on their big bats. Twenty wickets is the best way to win a Test, but having the likes of Sehwag, Gambhir, Tendulkar and Laxman carry the team has been immense.

The win over Australia in Mohali owed much to the batsmen; Tendulkar, Sehwag and the middle order set up the win in Nagpur; Chennai was all about Sehwag and Tendulkar; Sehwag's outstanding 293 downed Sri Lanka in Mumbai; Sehwag, Laxman and Raina starred in Colombo; that legendary last-wicket win over Australia in Mohali wouldn't have been possible without Tendulkar, Raina and - BIG PROPS - Laxman; in Bangalore Tendulkar, Vijay and Pujara played big roles.

Yes, the bowlers chipped in collectively and factored in these wins, but without the batsmen - and mostly the seniors - victory would not have been possible. There have been wins set up by the bowlers, but more often than not it has been the batsmen who have outweighed the bowlers.

And so, after the loss at Lord's, India need Gambhir, Tendulkar, Laxman and Dhoni to fire. The bowling, if Zaheer does not play, will be weaker but it is the batsmen who will need to deliver. Gambhir will need to bat out the first session of India's innings, shepherding Mukund. Tendulkar will need to get rid of whatever ailed him in London and forget this whole 100th century nonsense. Laxman will need to step up should these two fail, and Dhoni ... well Dhoni needs to sort out his head before anything else. He didn't seem to be there at all at Lord's. This happens to him sometimes. India can't afford to have their talisman leader out of sorts.

At Lord's India were under-prepared, overconfident, and outplayed. The better team won and now the series moves on. Test cricket at its best.

The Chemistry Brothers

2011-07-25T13:49:00.000+05:30

A mesmerizing fifth day at Lord's awaits. England need nine wickets, India need to bat three sessions to escape. Gambhir in some doubt following a blow to the elbow, Tendulkar unable to bat until half an hour after lunch or till five wickets are down. Dravid, yet to be dismissed in this Test, and Laxman, the man for a crisis, at the crease together, both having made it to the thirties before stumps on day four. The 2000th Test is set up amazingly.

Today, Dravid and Laxman will walk out for India as they have done so creditably and so often. Both at the end of their illustrious careers; Dravid, the second-highest run-scorer in Tests ever, a legend of the modern game and indeed of all times, and India's most dependable batsman and best No 3. Laxman, who summons his inner legend when the chips are down. The pair will be up against Anderson, Tremlett, Broad and Swann, England's best attack since the summer of 2005. Yet again, a Test to be saved, a precarious situation to be turned on its head like so many times before.

This is Dravid and Laxman, of the 376-run partnership at Eden Gardens in 2001, still the highest partnership in India vs Australia Tests. Dravid and Laxman, of the 303-run alliance for the fifth wicket in Adelaide in 2003.

Consider the figures:

In the best overall partnerships for a pair, Dravid and Laxman stand at tenth place. In the overall partnerships records for India, this pair unsurprisingly features prominently. For most century partnerships for a pair, Dravid and Laxman are at 16th place overall (the Dravid-Tendulkar pair is top of the pile). In the list of highest partnerships for all wickets, Dravid features at 13th (410 with Sehwag against Pakistan) and 22nd (376 with Laxman against Australia). In terms of the times that Dravid has batted with Laxman, the numbers show us that this pair is due a big stand; their last significant association was the 175 they put on in Sydney back in 2008.

There is no doubt that Dravid and Laxman are partnership men, an able couple who work well in partnerships, infusing much value and substance. They know such situations, they have forged most of their partnerships under such pressure, and now, in the dusk of their careers, Dravid and Laxman face a very, very tough assignment. If they succeed, Dravid leaving and poking and nudging and Laxman cutting and whipping and blocking, fans of Indian cricket and Test cricket will be treated once again to sublime batting and displays of patience and resolve, and we can all raise our glasses to two fine cricketers and men.

Rain, rain, rain ...

2011-07-21T23:27:00.001+05:30

So, a damp squib of an opening day at Lord's. A sedate start from England's openers after Dhoni won a good toss and opted to field, and I reckon India will feel a bit let down by their performance. Zaheer aside - he really is the most important player on either side - the bowling lacked bite.

Praveen, playing for the first time in England, got the new ball to move about significantly in a nine-over first spell, but was guilty of pitching a tad short on occasion. Seeing Dhoni stand up to the stumps on the first day of a Test was a bit odd, but then Praveen has little pace to speak of. With his style of bowling - a quintessential county bowler, though he's never played in England - Praveen should have been pitching the ball up more to the batsmen. He drew thick edges off Pietersen's bat, with the batsman defending both times. Neither time did the ball carry to a fielder, and Praveen thus should have been getting them driving, so that the harder the shot, the further the ball could have carried. Praveen is a good, smart bowler but appeared to be operating with the kinds of lengths he bowled in his debut series in the West Indies. But the pitches in England are far different, and his lack of experience in such conditions told today. He's a smart nut, and will only improve as the match continues.

Ishant's inexperience of the conditions also showed. He was too leg-side, and wasn't able to hit the deck as hard as he can. Not too many plays and misses or edges off his bowling, and just one peach of a delivery to beat KP's bat and narrowly miss the stumps. Ishant didn't look the bowler who picked up the Man-of-the-Series award in the West Indies.

Zaheer ... well, what to say about Zaheer? Lacking in pace, he was still miles ahead of his bowling team-mates. There was movement, bounce - what was Strauss thinking when he played that shot? - and he constantly had the batsmen watchful. Zaheer v Strauss was one of the key battles going into this series, and round one has gone to the bowler. He picked up Cook (12) with one that nipped back, during an opening spell of 7-3-9-1 and did for Strauss ten balls into his second spell, digging the ball in short. He should have had Trott - by far the most comfortable of batsmen on view - on 32 but inexplicably Dhoni didn't go for a catch off a thick outside edge to a lovely delivery. The ensuing boundary was the first runs England score off Zaheer in 34 deliveries, and his anger was palpable. Trouble for India, though, when he limped off the field with what looked like a hamstring injury. Very bad news for the visitors if he doesn't get better fast.

Trott was lucky to get to an unbeaten half-century by the time rain forced an early abandonment. He was reprieved off the first ball from Harbhajan, with Dravid diving to his right but failing to hold onto the thick outer edge. But he cut and flicked with much comfort, and looked decidedly unruffled. Maybe its just me, but there was a swagger and certain ferocity with which Trott chewed some gum today. He looks good to frustrate India a lot more tomorrow.

KP took 14 balls to get off the mark and was one stage 2 off 23. Hardly a convincing innings from him, with testy moments against Ishant and Praveen. Repeatedly Pietersen tried to off-set the pair by walking across his stumps or down the track, but never managed to put them away. Ishant drew an inside edge when Pietersen was 2, but there was no forward short leg or silly mid-on. Not so smart from Dhoni; at one stage he even operated with a leg slip, so why wasn't a more conventional catcher used?

An iffy sort of day. An engrossing first session, a proper way to get this much anticipated series going. Then India stepped off the pedal, dropped Trott, and lost Zaheer. India would have wanted more wickets, and England will be satisfied with Trott's fluidity and the fact that Pietersen was roughed it out. One of his more nervy innings for some time.

The rain was always expected. Lets hope it stays away, and we can get some more Test cricket in.

Here's to a summer of cricket ...

2011-07-20T11:15:00.005+05:30

Tomorrow England will host India at Lord's, the 100th time the two countries will go at it in whites, and it will mark the occasion of the 2000th Test overall. That the match is being played at Lord's, the home of cricket - yes, that is what it is and will always remain, no matter what other countries will have you believe in this day and age - only adds to the significance of the moment. India's Lord's history is shaky, and that adds to the intrigue of this first Test of four.

For one member of the current Indian squad, a return to Lord's is a very, very special occasion. And rightfully so. Fifteen years ago, at Lord's, began a very, very special cricket's very, very special journey. Today Rahul Dravid is 49 runs short of surpassing Ricky Ponting's Test tally and moving into second place behind Sachin Tendulkar, the only other current Indian player to have been at Lord's in 1996.

Tendulkar himself arrives in England with plenty of buzz around him, given that he is on 99 international centuries. He has never managed to get his name up on the honors' board at Lord's, and as this is will be his final tour of England Tendulkar will be driven to rectify that anomaly. To get that 100th century at Lord's would be special, but even if he does not, what will it matter?

Once this series gets underway, either with James Anderson running up the slope with the new ball or Zaheer Khan fixing a steely gaze on Andrew Strauss, most people will forget the series that just passed in the West Indies. That rather odd affair ended with India's much-maligned decision not to press for a win in the final Test, and now MS Dhoni's team has a chance to erase the bad taste of Dominica and play like the champion side they claim they are. As Harsha Bhogle mentioned, the prospect of holding on to, or earning, the No. 1 Test team tag cannot occupy your mind, it must happen as a consequence of good cricket, and both teams are capable of producing that.

India, unbeaten in Test cricket under Dhoni since the middle of 2008, and England, playing better than they probably have in the last 20 years under Strauss - "every player goes out to play for himself, and for the team," said Michael Vaughan on a cricket show for The Telegraph this week - and coming off a win over Sri Lanka. England-India series haven't always been gripping - Lord's and Chennai are about as thrilling as Tests between the two sides have got - but with this series comes the chance for Strauss and Dhoni to usher in a summer of competitive, gripping cricket and, one writer believes, even start a new premier rivalry. Strauss believes players must be the ones to make Test cricket more attractive, and what better time to start than now, by leading from the front, against the best Indian side for ages?

Cynics - and there are plenty, judging by newspaper and web space and Facebook and Twitter status messages - do not read much into the practice match against Somerset. Indian sides have never been good at beginning tours on a good note. In more recent times, a few examples: at the start of the competitive 2003-04 tour of Australia, the visitors were held to a draw against a Brad Hodge-inspired Victoria and then struggled to draw against the Queensland Academy, and were taken to task by twin centurion Lee Carseldine. We all know how that Test series ended. When India began their first full tour of Pakistan in 14 years, back in 2004-05, Pakistan A handed them a pasting in their only warm-up game. India went on to win the ODIS and seal a historic first Test series win over Pakistan, their first overseas series win in more than a decade. In 2007, India went into the Tests against England after drawing with Sussex and England Lions; after three Tests they ended up winning their first series in England since 1986.

What are the subplots that we can expect from this series? Zaheer versus Strauss and Cook, for starters - the spearhead of the Indian attack, the experienced Zaheer returns to the scene of his splendid series in 2007, and goes up against an in-form Cook and Strauss, coming off two handy innings playing for Somerset against the tourists; England's tall pace attack of Anderson, Chris Tremlett and Stuart Broad against a strong batting side missing Virender Sehwag; a rejuvenated Ishant Sharma hustling in and trying to bounce out England's batsmen; Graeme Swann - the man Dravid has termed as a big threat - to Gautam Gambhir and Tendulkar, India's best players of spin; Harbhajan Singh, who has just crossed 400 Test wickets and still finds himself criticized, could learn much by watching Swann bowl; the insatiable Jonathan Trott against Zaheer's swing and reverse-swing and Harbhajan; the prospect of more artistry from VVS Laxman, sandwiched between Suresh Raina desperate to cement his place and Dhoni needing to score some runs, and Kevin Pietersen bursting back into life with the intensity raised for the No. 1 Test team; Dhoni the captain versus Strauss the captain - the one who will take more risks will come out on top, feel many experts. These are just some of the tasty appetizers that will present themselves during the feast of cricket that is the next month.

And of course, there is the return to England of Duncan Fletcher, and his reunion with his former pupil, Strauss. Across the table, another Zimbabwean, Andy Flower, has called on England to raise their game. Neither man will be on the field, but this series has the possibility to provide an engaging insight into how Fletcher and Flower operate against the backdrop of their history with England.

There are spots to be cemented, such as for Raina and Morgan. Abhinav Mukund handled himself decently on debut in the West Indies, and with Sehwag out for at least the first two Tests, he has a chance to become the third opening candidate for the foreseeable future. For Ishant this is a big series, and he will need to extend that form and support Zaheer. Praveen Kumar seems to have done enough to nudge out Sreesanth for Lord's, and what a treat it would be to see him play at Trent Bridge. Tremlett is riding on the confidence of success against Australia and Sri Lanka, and has been in the wicket for his adopted county, Surrey. Back up against the team against which he debuted four years ago, and rattled in a pacy spell on the fifth day of defeat at Trent Bridge, Tremlett can go a long way in keeping his place alongside Anderson. Broad will be under pressure from Tim Bresnan and Steven Finn, and with Flower calling on him to be more controlling, there is much to be gained for the man regarded as a true allrounder by many. He will also do well to keep his mouth shut.

So, will Strauss and Cook struggle against Zaheer? Will Trott be found out by Harbhajan? Will Harbhajan raise his game? Will KP burst back to life? Will Tendulkar get his 100th at Lord's? Will Dravid and Laxman one final time bail India out of trouble under grey skies and with the ball wobbling and darting about? Will Anderson and Tremlett sort out Raina? Will Dhoni extend his unbeaten Test series record? How will Gambhir, without the security of Sehwag at the other end, cope in his maiden Test series in England?

These are a but a few of the things I am looking forward to. It promises to be a great Test series. Lets hope the weather doesn't intervene too much. Lets hope for packed houses and plenty of cheer. Lets hope for some heated exchanges, but no jelly beans. Lets hope for good umpiring, and no bossing around by the Indians. Lets hope for swing and seam, from both sides, and loop and drift and turn from Harbhajan. Lets hope for drives off back foot and front, and square cuts and pull shots.

As I write this, I am looking out at the old tennis court where, 15 years ago, as Dravid and Ganguly defied England's attack at Lord's, my friends and I played cricket on misty mornings and between rain interruptions. There was no TV then, and so, after reading lovely reports in The Hindu, and reading of how these two men had battled it out against the home side's pacers, I put to motion the shots I imagined they had played over the course of those five magical days in 1996. Today there is no one to play with and the field is in bad shape, but the mist still lingers and the rain still interrupts my thoughts and hopes of bowling at a makeshift stump, or of getting my friend Vinod to bowl a few off-breaks at me. Maybe I will do so over the next few weeks, inspired by more sparkling strokeplay from Dravid and fizzing off-breaks from Swann. Here's to a great summer of cricket.

Mussoorie in the monsoon

2011-07-07T10:58:00.000+05:30

This place is home. Its been home for years, but over the past ten I've hardly been here for more than a couple weeks at a time. A couple Christmases, the odd weekend or four-day trip from Bangalore, one 36-hour visit and another 48-hour visit earlier this year from Bombay. Thus, after a busy few months (the World Cup and IPL, mainly) I decided to take off six weeks or so and come up to Mussoorie, to Oakville, and do some writing and running and bicycling. It was long overdue.

The writing is going along well, the running not so well, due largely to the rain, and the bicycling ... well, that's not happening. But I do get in a good five to six kilometers of walking a day, and twice did more than that with walks into the bazaar and back, up Mullingar and on to Char Dukan, then back around the chakkar and to Oakville. Here are a few pictures from early morning walks and late afternoon/evening strolls.


Morning mist up along the chakkar

Its something else to be able to walk alone through the oaks and pines and deodars and horse chestnuts and maple trees, not disturbed by the honking of cars - though the Cantonment has a lot more tourists than before, largely due to the presence of Rokeby Manor - or crowds.


View of the valley from near Lal Tibba

Along the way I meet familiar faces now and then, and there are exchanged salaams and questions and answers about relatives and careers, sometimes a few back-slaps and jokes and memories from youth. Its a nice feeling to be able to able to return home and see friends with whom you played cricket with and watched movies with, and though its not the same - most of them have jobs and families, naturally - there is a certain pleasure from seeing these faces and catching up, briefly even.


The deodar along the chakkar's ridge

Nice way to spend an hour a day, I reckon.

Oakville - our field of dreams

2011-07-01T18:58:00.000+05:30

We each have our field of dreams. The space where we first really took to cricket, where we played the game because we just loved the sound of ball (rubber, tennis, cork, whatever) on ball, where we could square-drive like our heroes (Dravid, for me) and mimic bowling actions and try our hands at legspin or left-arm pace and try to intimidate and flourish, and where we could - for an hour, a day - escape the drudgery of school and chores. Maybe it was a parking lot or a sandlot, a maidaan, an open field, a side street, a gulli, a stadium, an terrace. You know what I'm talking about.

For me, that field was a beaten up, run down former tennis court tucked away between the magnificent deodar and handsome Indian Chestnut tree and sturdy Himalayan Oak and serene maple trees. A little piece of heaven where in days of yore British, American and Canadian missionaries spent sunny summer afternoons playing tennis and rounders but which by the time my buddies and I took over had withered into a rough, mossy mess of dilapidated cement and dirt. It was perfect.

It was here that I established and furthered friendships that have lasted years and will always do so. A friend and I, with help from my father, arranged for a crease at either end of the field be painted in thick, green paint. We measured the crease with tape, and ensured the specifics were to the T. We measured the length of the pitch, never mind that we were bowling on aging concrete and moss. We had the grass cut; the stinging nettle and dock leaf in two corners, square leg and long-on, the clovers along the wall that ran from second slip to fine leg. When it rained, we mopped up the muck and slush. A few times we used gunny sacks to absorb the muck and laid them down like mat, three feet from where we batted. The rains didn't deter us. Neither did the snow; one winter my oldest buddy - he drove up from Dehra Dun just to play cricket - scraped up the snow and bowled in the freezing cold until we were called inside for Christmas lunch.

We played eight and ten and twelve and fifteen-over matches. We played 'Test' matches. We played one-on-one matches. Sometimes I bowled alone to single stumps, offspin and medium-pace. Many, many weekends were spent on that field, from eight am to six pm, often with hardly half an hour for lunch. Sometimes I skipped lunch. Many times friends groaned that they needed to eat more than raw Maggi and lemon squash for lunch.

On once return home from college, I tried to wrap a tennis ball in black electric tape like my Pakistani friends had done so skillfully in college in the Midwest. It was an epic failure, because the tape wasn't sturdy and repeated hits along the rough, grainy surface and through thick and wet grass ruined the stuff. The most fun was had when I discovered the MRI cricket tennis ball, a hard white ball somewhere between a tennis ball and a cricket ball. It looked like a tennis ball but was much harder; if it hit you, it bruised. It was a great ball to bowl fast with, no matter how dodgy your action, and when you struck it firmly the ball flew. Good fun.

During the summers we welcomed visiting guests at Oakville and beyond, fathers and sons alike. We had many last-ball finishes - Atul, sorry for all those sixes - and once smashed a window of a study. How many balls were lost on top of trees and in their branches and down the khud over extra cover or over third man and in the garden or over the roof of the Big House, lost forever to the mountainside, I cannot begin to recall.

It was here that little Siddharth, whom a few of us doubted would every grow beyond four feet, played the paddle scoop long before Dilshan and McCullum. True story. We kept score in notebooks. Once summer, with help from Beth Norford, we each got white baseball caps with our names traced onto them in black ink. The Oakville cricket team was the best in the vicinity, beating teams from Char Dukan and the Cantonment both home and away. We all lived for cricket.

Left-handed or right, crooked action and smooth, hopeless fielder and natural athlete alike, we were a band of brothers. We fought, we cursed, we laughed and we celebrated. Tashi and I were fierce rivals; Tashi fancied himself as the best batsman on the team as did I. He was more technically accomplished, while I could hit a long ball. I had a tough time figuring out his whirlwind helicopter-like action, which Tashi never shied away from reminding me whenever I played and missed and got out. I liked batting with Gautam and Raghu. I enjoyed pinching singles with Gautam and standing at the nonstriker's end and marveling at how cleanly Raghu could hit the ball straight back over the bowler's head. Paras was capable of bowling fast, and his full deliveries with the MRI were the closest to Waqar Younis-like toe-crushers as we could imagine. Vinod had an action similar to Murali; Sanju had his patented karchi shot; Balli was the only left-hander for miles and had one shot, ala Robin Singh - the mow across the line.

My friends from Woodstock made regular appearances: Ronjoy, mostly, and John and Atul and Akash (seldomly). There were weekends when Ashis came up from Hostel, and I remember his elation and subsequent harassing of Ronjoy after he had him caught by Helmet, after a miscued slog - first ball, mind you - came down through the leaves and branches of the maple tree and somehow stuck in the little tyke's hands. On another occasion Balli managed to tick off Atul with his sledging, and scampered up the hillside with an irate Atul hurling stones at him. Great times.

Others also featured in our matches over that four-year period: my father, Momo, James Conrad, the mad Sardar who drove Atley Brar's jeep, to name a few.

One summer, John and I returned from the States during our college years. Ronjoy met us at the airport in Delhi and we drove through the night, picking up Atul and Vijay Roy outside Dehra Dun and getting 'the gang' together at Oakville. I proudly took out my handicam and had it set up to record me facing Ronjoy after two years. To my embarrassment and his elation, Ronjoy yorked me first ball.

Another night, the last before I flew back to the USA for college that same summer, we arranged for lights to be brought up from the bazaar. We had two installed, and they provided sufficient lighting for us to play from nine pm to 2 am. We had enough people to make three teams of six, and had a tri-series. It was an unforgettable night. The lighting behind the bowler was poor, and to spot a green tennis ball from out of the dark was damn tough. I remember telling myself to bat like Dravid or Steve Waugh on a bad wicket, and took guard a foot outside the crease. It worked, and twice that night I steered my team to victory after the rest had fallen in the dark. There was always last-man-batting at Oakville.

Today that field is used only by three large bhotia dogs, their own playground where they can chase each other or imaginary intruders and chew at whatever they happen to find. The grass is much higher, the cracks much larger, the mud even more prominent - especially now, during the monsoon - and there is a fence around it. But that has not changed my view of what was my field of dreams.

Ronjoy and I recently returned to Oakville and got an hour's play in during the rain. Sure, we were stiff and not as athletic, but it was as if no time had elapsed at all since our last visit here together four years ago. He still beat me many times with pace and spin and I managed to pitch a few on the right cracks to surprise him.

Oakville's tennis court will always remain my field of dreams, as I'm sure it will be for many of the friends I've mentioned. Maybe some day our children will come here and play cricket. I can only hope that they too will one day play the way we did, on warm days and wet, from morning to evening. Thank you, Oakville, for all the memories.

2011-06-25T10:29:00.000+05:30

Haven't been able to get Harbhajan Singh's latest performance out of my mind. Yes, a good win for a new-look Indian side on a tricky surface, which that legend Rahul Dravid handled with customary determination. But watching Harbhajan return match figures of 3 for 105 against a sorry line-up when Devendra Bishoo grabbed 7 for 140 - including dismissing Laxman, Dravid and Dhoni in quick succession - was tough to digest.

Here was a surface with bounce and turn - the two facets any offspinner will thrive on, and more so Harbhajan - but he failed to deliver. His line was all over the place: too many wide deliveries which the left-handers - and there were five of them in the West Indies side - could leave alone, and then an equal number of deliveries drifting onto the pads off a short length. The batsmen were rarely bothered. When Harbhajan switched to around the stumps, he continued to feed the batsmen on the pads. What offspinner thrives on that line? Coolly, the batsmen tucked runs off Harbhajan to the leg side. Too many to even recall, but there must have been a large percentage of runs scored to the on side.

This isn't a new facet to Harbhajan's bowling. For too long he's done this. Watching Younis Khan reverse-paddle Harbhajan, on 99, in a Test in 2007-08 is the most accurate indication I can recall of how predictable a bowler he can be.

While watching Harbhajan's uninspiring display, I re-read this article by Harsha Bhogle from earlier this month, in which he called on the bowler to look deep inside himself and strive to become the "great" he was born to be. It got me thinking: what is so great about Harbhajan?

Ninety-four Tests, 396 wickets. That's a pretty good career. You don't get close to 400 wickets by being an ordinary bowler. But is Harbhajan destined to be great? Or is he an ordinary bowler who has achieved more than he possibly set out to at the top?

A friend - while informing me that Harbhajan is the fourth most successful wicket-taker in Tests over the last three years - put forth the argument that Harbhajan is a decent bowler who is judged too harshly by those who expect him to be great. All too often Harbhajan is the bowler people go after, citing his inconsistency and negative flat-on-leg-stump lines and lack of drift and turn. How many times have we read certain former India spinners criticize Harbhajan for not having a stellar series, or for "lacking heart", or for failing to put pressure on the batsmen? True, there are many average batsmen who have played Harbhajan with ease, and many instances where the conditions assisted turn and Harbhajan failed to do as well as he should and could have.

So yes, over the last three years, only three bowlers have taken more wickets than Harbhajan; in 28 Tests over that span he has taken 121 wickets at an average of 33.78 and strike rate of 71.50. Not the figures of a "great" bowler by any means. Over the last 12 months, Harbhajan has taken 41 wickets in 11 Tests (average 39.95), with one five-wicket haul, in South Africa.

There is an argument that Harbhajan does better on wickets that are hard and bouncy, and his returns in India's last two overseas (outside Asia) tours, to New Zealand and South Africa, give credence to this. Harbhajan bowled very well in New Zealand in 2009 and, after a poor first Test in South Africa in late 2010, did well in the remaining two fixtures with 13 wickets. After the drawn series in South Africa, Harbhajan admitted he had adopted Graeme Swann's wicket-to-wicket line which yielded 21 wickets in four Tests in 2009-10. So, you need to look at another offspinner to figure out that a wicket-to-wicket line is key to taking wickets? After 13 years of international cricket? It shows a little into Harbhajan's thought process, and its scary.

It is also pertinent to note how Harbhajan's form has waned over the last five years, especially at home. Overall, from 2001 to 2005, over 42 Tests, Harbhajan's strike rate was 59. Since 2006, it has ballooned to 71.40. From 2001 to 2005, he had 17 five-wicket hauls. Since 2006, he has managed just seven. Bowling at home from 2001 to 2005, Harbhajan took 141 wickets in 23 Tests at a highly impressive average of 22.62. In the last five years, at home, he has 96 wickets in 21 Tests at 33.92. That's a jump of over 10 runs per wicket.

When New Zealand toured India in late 2010, Harbhajan publicly lashed out at the lifeless wickets provided in Ahmedabad and Hyderabad, but clearly failed to notice how well Daniel Vettori bowled on those same tracks. Bowling to far greater batsmen than Harbhajan did, Vettori varied his pace and flight to compensate for the lack of turn; Harbhajan, by contrast, pushed the ball through flat and quick.

Test cricket's current leading wicket-taker isn't destined to be great, but a Test bowling average of 31.87 surely proves that. The 30-mark is generally taken as the cut-off between great and good/average Test bowlers, and Harbhajan has some work to do to get his figures below that point.

2011-06-24T10:02:00.000+05:30

The tacky tiles ache for an identity.
The upholstery screams for comfort.
The neon sign above the entrance flickers for friendship.
The waiters' smiles quiver from claustrophobia.
The upturned glasses on the cold white tables beg to be toasted.
This is so not the breakfast of champions.

Manali

2011-06-21T15:01:00.000+05:30

40 kilometers. Up and down. From Manali to Patlikuhl and back. On mountain bikes. Through the hills of Himachal Pradesh, breathtaking scenery on either side, the Beas flowing to the right down in the valley below, alpine trees dotting the horizon and offering shelter from the sun, the road curving like a scythe, arms outstretched, wind in the face, music in in the ear. Amazing. Seven of us biked it to Patlikuhl, and two of us decided to do the return leg as well. It was a challenge, but one overcome through determination. Coming back was a lot of uphill, and my legs were aching and burning after the first climb. The two of us kept at it, stopping once for water and then at the halfway mark, for some hot tea at a dhaba. Then it was back on our bikes, legs pumping as we scaled the terrain and managed to stay clear of buses and trucks as the light faded and day made way for night. To reach our destination, the Dragon Lodge in Old Manali, and to slap backs and hug friends and retell the journey was a fine way to cap a fine day.

2011-06-11T22:30:00.000+05:30

The rain came down. To my left, three kids laughed and splashed in a puddle of muddy water. To my right, a laborer hauled a wagon of boxes covered by blue tarp, his every muscle creaking as he struggled to lug his load through traffic and heavy rain. In front, a man on a scooter argued with a taxi driver. The rain came down. So this is monsoon.

2011-06-07T11:29:00.000+05:30

"Yeh hai Bruce Lee ka bhai, Choos Lee."

"Kutte ko billi ka salaam. Meeeeowwww."

If you've heard those two hilarious lines and can't place where you did, chances are you heard someone else use them. If you've seen Peecha Karo and can automatically place the source, well then all I have to say is SALAAM ... minus the meeeeowwww.

I recently got my hands on a copy of Peecha Karo, Pankaj Parashar's 1986 laugh riot starring Farooq Sheikh, Amjad Khan, Roma Manik, Rajendra Nath, Rajesh Puri, Anupam Kher, Viju Khote and, in a comedic pairing to rival their antics in Jaane Bhi Do Yaaron, Ravi Baswani and Satish Shah as the bumbling secret agents, Hari Giridhara and Giri Haridhara.

This movie is up there with JBDY and Andaz Apna Apna. Surely the climax of AAA would not have been possible without Peecha Karo (go see it, it's on YouTube and available on Flipkart). The film is riddled with subtle (there's a No Smoking sign in a massive haystack in the middle of the road, where Hari Giridhara and Giri Haridhara are hiding out) and not to subtle (the Kuk-du-Ku song) gems, and its OTT style showcases the comedic talents of every member of the cast.

Each character gets ample space to have fun. Amjad is too good in his role as the Brigadier. His subtlety works superbly amid the shenanigans. Note his interactions with Sudhir. Rajesh Puri hams wonderfully as the Brigadier's servant.Viju Khote makes you laugh in each scene, as is repeatedly frightened by talking postboxes, moving bushes and flapping placards. Sheikh is reliable, as always, and really gets to let his - thinning - hair down in songs like 'O Pori Zara Ikkade Aa' and 'Mujhpe Goli Na Chala' as well as in fight sequences with Choos Lee, son of Guth Lee. Javed Khan also has a memorable cameo. Roma as the leading lady of the film is the weakest of the lot, but doesn't get overshadowed. She knows her role has little scope and so goes with the flow.

This is arguably Rajendra Nath's best role. Playing the father to Sheikh's Vijay, he gets to mouth some of the funniest dialogues - "Krishna ne Ramayan mein Arjun se kaha tha, zindagi ek safar hai suhana, yahan kal kya ho kisne jaana" and "Shakespeare ne Menaka se kaha tha ki naach meri bulbul tujhe paisa milega" and his constant attempts to measure a person's body so he can keep his self-titled Kandharam & Sons shop, which sells 'maiyyat ka samaan' alive (no pun intended) will have you in stitches. His exchange with Amjad is howlarious - he responds to the Brigadier saying "Mein Brigadier hoon" with his own, "Main bhi fire brigade walon ko jaanta hoon."

The best of the lot are Baswani and Shah. From the time the film opens with Baswani's Giridhara breaking into a jail to get out Shah's Haridhara, the pair engages you with their wit and slapstick humor. If Baswani's Chhota Chetan gag sets the tone for the buffoonery to follow, Shah's reenactment of Shiva Ka Insaaf's dialogue take it a step further. The madness never stops.

There are too many scenes to recount, and of course I encourage you to go and get a copy of this film. If you like mindless comedies with five people speaking at once, then Peecha Karo is for you.

2011-06-06T17:38:00.000+05:30

"What happened to your hands?"

The look on the taxi driver's face was one of concern.

"Huh?"

"Your hands. What are those dots on your skin? Some disease?"

"No, not at all. Its common. Many people have it."

"I've never seen it. Looks like something happened."

"No, they're called ... forget it."

How can I explain freckles to him?

2010-12-03T17:52:00.000+05:30

Just noticed that this season's highest run-scorer in the Ranji Trophy Super League is Wasim Jaffer, 32, with 617 from eight innings. Sridharan Sriram, 34 and representing his third state in his 18th season of cricket, is at five in the list. And then, at No 16, but just 120 runs shy of Sriram's 440, is Pankaj Dharmani, 36 and captaining Punjab in his 19th season. A spot below him is Delhi's Mithun Manhas, 31. Connor Williams, 37, is a few places behind Manhas with 291 runs at 48.50. Hemang Badani, 34 and now playing for Haryana, follows with 263 at 43.63 from six innings. Domestic stalwarts Sanjay Bangar and Amol Muzumdar aren't far behind.

Each of these men has been around for a long time; Dharmani would have seen each make his first-class debut and blossom as players. Manhas and Muzumdar aside, each has been called up to the national side. Williams never played an international, but did make it to the Test XI for a match against South Africa which was deemed unofficial as a result of the Mike Denniss row. Dharmani played a solitary ODI in 1996, hardly three years after his Ranji debut; Jaffer got 31 Tests and two ODIs; Sriram eight ODIs; Badani four Tests and 40 ODIs; Bangar was tried for 12 Tests and 15 ODIs.

To see Jaffer still going so strong is a sign of his dedication, ability, experience and perhaps lack of bowling talent. But that would be a disservice to Jaffer's work ethic. His hunger is phenomenal; the Marathi manhoos in him is legendary. He recently said that he could be in the fray for a recall if he kept churning out runs, but we all know that won't happen. The latter, that is. Runs will continue to flow from Jaffer, who now wears a thick beard ala Mohammad Yousuf.

Sriram has gained in years and around the waist, but what he brings to an inexperienced Assam side must be very valuable. Muzumdar has also joined Assam. Lets hope the youngsters around them benefit from the presence of a such domestic veterans, and that Assam as a team progresses up the ranks. Same for Haryana, with Badani a major presence in the middle order. Manhas knows he will never play for India, but still he turns up day in and day out to lead Delhi with dedication. Williams' best days are behind him but the Baroda giant has much to offer his team-mates. Ditto for Bangar, who any domestic veteran will tell is you is one of the most sincere and dedicated players on the circuit.

The day isn't far when some of these names, who I grew up reading about and watching, will hang up their boots and pass on the mantle to the next generation. Hope the journey was worth it.

2010-11-29T12:31:00.000+05:30

Watching England post 517 for 1 in their second innings at the Gabba showcased that this England could bounce back from adversity at a venue where historically most touring sides have shown a propensity to wilt, but it also further drove home the fact that this Australian team does not have fast bowlers who can deliver under pressure. By the time the players shook hands as the Test ended in a draw, Peter Siddle's six-wicket haul, including a hat-trick, on the first day was completely out of the memory. Instead, images of Siddle, Hilfenhaus, Watson and that most over-rated of fast bowlers, Mitchell Johnson, with their hands on head or hip, looking forlorn, where what remained strongest. Cardiff, Mohali, Melbourne and now Brisbane. Four instances where an Aussie attack failed to take wickets when they had to; each ball and each over resulted in the opposition's confidence increasing and the Australians' falling.

The first man to attract criticism would be Johnson. He seems likeliest to be dropped for Doug Bollinger for the second Test. An 18-ball 0, a dropped catch, and match figures of 0-170; his first wicket-less Test in 39 opportunities. I've never been a big fan of Johnson - look closely and many of his wickets have come off not-so-good deliveries - and he isnt' express pace nor is he as good a swinger of the cricket ball as many point him out to be. His waywardness is too frequent. He vacillates between being good and horrible (last summer, anyone?) but now he just seems confused as to what role he's supposed to be playing: flat-out quick to rough up the batsmen, swing bowler to try and work out the opposition, or defensive bowler?

Johnson drifted the ball onto Strauss and Cook's pads too often, as if off stump were the plague. The bouncer was more tennis-ball fair which the two lefties could pull with ease. There was no movement, and Johnson's pace was well short of what he's capable of.

Ricky Ponting has always backed Johnson, but what does he do now? Shane Watson said it was silly to focus on Johnson as all the bowlers had struggled for consistency, but Johnson's last five Tests have produced 11 wickets at 55.36. You can always argue that numbers don't define a player, but Australia's management has some serious thinking to do ahead of the Adelaide Test. They need their strike bowler tearing in and hustling the batsmen, repeatedly producing breakthroughs, not kicking the turf in frustration and loping back to his mark.

These are a few of my favorite things ...

2010-11-28T09:22:00.000+05:30

2010-11-13T10:28:00.000+05:30

Is Gautam Gambhir really out of form? The question is being asked, and a few people - MS Dhoni, Gary Kirsten, and Gambhir himself - have spoken about it without really offering any answers.

In 2009 Gambhir amassed 727 runs in five Tests at 90.87. That included four centuries in four Tests. Then he made a silly decision. He opted out of the third and final Test against Sri Lanka at the Brabourne. He had just hit 114 and 167 in the two previous Tests. In 25 Tests leading up to that decision, Gambhir was averaging 77.

Since opting to skip a Test match for his sister's wedding, Gambhir has averaged 24.41 from eight Tests (he's yet to bat in the current Test in Hyderabad). On return in January this year, he began with 23, 116 and 68 against Bangladesh, but since then has scratched around for just 86 runs in five Tests. I understand he picked up an injury during this period as well, and struggled on comeback from that injury, getting out twice in the first over in Galle, but is there something ominous about that decision taken in November last year?

His was the first instance I've heard of an international player skipping a Test to attend his sister's wedding. Sunil Gavaskar went an entire tour of the West Indies without seeing his son Rohan who was born while he was on tour in New Zealand. Many cricketers have gotten married during the off season. Death, illness and paternity leave, have been accepted in this era. But a sister's marriage? That is unacceptable. We live in an era where even the BCCI, for all its shambolic management, announces dates for matches well in advance; at times even a year in advance. You're telling me Gambhir and his family couldn't have scheduled the wedding after the third Test? And would Gambhir have missed an IPL match to attend his sister's wedding?

This sets a dangerous precedent. Gambhir wasn't injured, he wasn't fatigued. Test cricket is supposedly the ultimate, but seeing a player skip a match was unpardonable. Forget the injury. The reason for Gambhir's drastic dip in form is a change in mentality. He thought he could do that because there was no one else available to challenge his place in the team. Now he's struggling for runs and has M Vijay, with a century in his last Test innings, looming in the background.

Anshuman Gaekwad, speaking to Mid-Day after Gambhir's decision, had this to say: "Anything can happen in this game. When you are in form - and Gambhir is in great form - it is very dangerous to take a break, however small. You never know... the guy who takes your place might just score a big hundred and you'll struggle to get back."

And that, as they sail, is the proverbial nail on the head.

2010-11-09T14:00:00.000+05:30

I quite enjoy not having to to office anymore. I get my work done, and I have some free time to watch cricket (the odd day of a Ranji match, an ODI or Twenty20 live on TV, as well as highlights of random games).

The ODIs in the UAE were exciting, and a great advert for the 50-over game, but I doubt the Tests will be. A two-Test series in the UAE of all places just seems a bit odd. We don't know what the tracks will be like, but we can expect high scores. South Africa v Pakistan is hardly one of the most engrossing rivalries in Test cricket, primarily because there have only been 16 Test matches between the two, with South Africa the dominant side. In fact, of all current Test-playing countries, Pakistan have the worst record against South Africa. In 16 Tests, they've won just thrice and lost eight times for a success rate of 37%.

I jogged my memory trying to recollect some memorable moments in Tests between these two teams, and most of what I could remember were South African highlights. Here are the few that I could recall, and with the help of some scorecards and stats, unfurled a few nuggets that Pakistan fans won't remember too fondly.

1. Graeme Smith and Herschelle Gibbs' monstrous partnership of 368 in 69.2 overs at Newlands in 2003. The two first broke all the possible partnership records for South Africa against Pakistan before passing the 260-run South African first wicket partnership, between Bruce Mitchell and Ivan Siedle against England at the same ground during the 1930/31 season. Next to fall was the 341-run highest South African partnership for any wicket, that set by Eddie Barlow and Graeme Pollock against Australia in Adelaide during the 1963/64 season.

2. Gibbs' 228 from 240 balls in that Newlands massacre is South Africa's highest individual score against Pakistan. He's not playing, and those who remain the Pakistan squad will probably think that a good thing.

3. Fanie de Villiers had a thing for Pakistan batting line-ups. It isn't the best individual bowling analysis in an innings (that record belongs to Paul Adams and his 7 for 28 at Lahore in a losing cause in 2003), but it is perhaps the most memorable. "Superficially, Pakistan looked even more powerful going into the final Test," wrote Wisden in its verdict of the third Test of the 1999 season. Instead, Pakistan imploded and South Africa leveled the series with some ease. Starring was de Villiers, in what he said was his final Test, with his best figures, 6 for 23, to make it 8 for 48 in the match.

4. Not only does he have the best individual bowling analysis for South Africa against Pakistan, de Villiers also has the most for a Test. In a one-off Test in 1995, de Villiers inspired South Africa's biggest ever home victory in terms of runs, while Pakistan surrendered their record of at least one Test victory in their inaugural series against each of their opponents. His 6 for 81 skittled Pakistan for exactly half South Africa's total, and after Cronje chose not to enforce the follow-on, de Villiers was at it again with 4 for 27 to complete a crushing 324-run success.

5. Its not the javelin thrower who leads the way in South Africa v Pakistan wicket-taking prowess, however - its Shaun Pollock (45 at 21.35 apiece), then Ntini (41 at 24.07) and Donald (27 at 22.37). Polly's finest hour against Pakistan came in the third Test at Faisalabad in 1997, on a pitch which Wisden said "looked positively emerald by Pakistan's standards". By bundling Pakistan out for 92 on the fourth day, South Africa took the series stunningly. At stumps on the third evening, Pakistan were 4 for 0 needing 142 in two days. The next morning it was all Pollock, and a thrilling win was sealed quite against the run of play. Wisden described it thus: "Then Pollock, bowling with impeccable discipline to a specific plan for each batsman, took four in seven balls. The batsman played like rabbits but Pollock became the headlights which paralysed them. Lunch was taken at 79 for six - "I don't know how they felt," said Pollock, "but we couldn't eat a thing. We all just sat, staring at the clock, willing the minutes to go by. . ." "

6. One of the most frustrating innings against Pakistan has to be Pat Symcox's only Test century, at The Wanderers in 1998. Symcox became the first No 10 batsman to score a Test century for 96 years, and with Mark Boucher he put on ninth-wicket partnership to 195, a Test record, on the second day of the first Test. Symcox, 37, and Boucher, 21, - the oldest and youngest members of the side - beat the 190 set by Asif Iqbal and Intikhab Alam for Pakistan against England at the Oval in 1967. As if facing Symcox bowl wasn't boring enough, Pakistan had to watch him bat his way to a century. Those present during that match probably don't remember it too fondly.

2010-11-05T19:37:00.000+05:30

The most intriguing aspect of tomorrow's play will be how Brendon McCullum applies himself. He's done really well to get himself to 38 from 75 balls at stumps, but with New Zealand needing to avert the follow-on, he's going to really have to outdo himself. Having given up wicketkeeping in Tests to concentrate on his batting, he really has no option but deliver. Touring India is tough, and given that he's never played a Test here before, and the psychological impact of the 4-0 hammering in Bangladesh, McCullum has his work cut out.

McCullum, at 29, is something of a father figure in the squad, but needs to perform like one. Having given up wicketkeeping to concentrate on increasing his batting average, McCullum has to deliver no matter where he bats. His naturally aggressive ways haven’t always worked, most noticeably in Sri Lanka last year, where a little over a year ago, sitting in Colombo, I wrote this about McCullum.

Since then, he's averaged about 50 in Test cricket batting at No's 6 and 7. Now, after requesting he be shunted up the order, McCullum has a chance to prove he can deliver as a senior statesman on a very difficult tour. He also has to shed the image of a dasher. To succeed in India you have to get down and dirty. That's the key. The most successful non-Asian batsmen here have been those with the ticker for battle: Andy Flower and Matthew Hayden in 2000-01, Damien Martyn and Michael Clarke in 2004, and Michael Hussey and Strauss in 2008.

McCullum needs to become patient and rein in his attacking instincts. Too often he's been guilty of throwing away his wicket with an over-ambitious shot. Too often it appears he's done that not because of an inclination to dominate, but because of poor judgment when he's getting carried away. McCullum's technique is not set up to block, nudge and accumulate but he has to evaluate himself on this tour, and tomorrow could dictate the course of his series.

In the subcontinent, overseas batsmen have often been found wanting in proper footwork against spinners. Having to stretch far forward to try and suffocate the turn, coincidentally having to be prepared to rock back and cut, is a tough task and then there is the need to produce the sweep shot. McCullum cut and pulled well today, and his defense was also very impressive. He's shown patience today, but tomorrow the real challenge will be to curb his natural game for a longer period. Not so much that he bats in a way that is alien to him, but enough to show his team-mates and critics that he's not going without a fight.

2010-11-04T22:23:00.000+05:30

Poor attack aside, Virender Sehwag's 199-ball 173 today was a masterclass on how to bat on a slow and low wicket. It was an innings that Sachin Tendulkar would have been proud of, having played many such gems the first half of his career. But it was so very different from any Tendulkar innings.

Its been so long since people viewed Sehwag as a Tendulkar clone. In his early days, from the time he batted alongside the master in his debut Test, Sehwag was labeled The New Tendulkar. His idolization of Tendulkar aside, the stance, grip, backlift and shot selection was eerily similar. When they opened together against England the ODI series of 2002, many found it difficult to differentiate. There was even a chase in that series when the pair seemed to be trying to outdo each other, shot for shot. If Tendulkar drove on the up past extra cover, Sehwag repeated the shot with more ferocity. If Sehwag clipped off his toes, Tendulkar outdid him for sheer panache and placement as if to say hang on, that's my shot.

Sehwag is an artist as much as Tendulkar is, but today there are differences in their styles. Tendulkar innings are studies of character. Sehwag's innings are studies of plot. Indeed, you could say he's an artist of plot.

This is both Sehwag's brilliance and his weakness. Sehwag can frustrate as much as he can thrill. In the same match he can scythe through an attack on the opening morning en route to a rollicking century. In the second innings he can flash at the first ball and nick to second slip. His centuries are most often like a madcap Glasgow pub crawl: it makes you elated in the moment and sorry when its over. His oeuvre encompasses the gamut from sublime to suspect, and there is much to be frustrated about. There is no denying his extreme popularity the world over. He is the most fascinating cricketer going around today. His willingness to laugh at himself only adds to his likeable character.

Sunil Gavaskar, on air today, said he thought Sehwag often got bored after crossing a quick century and that he should put his mind to sorting out ways to play the short delivery better. I disagree. Sehwag's beauty is that independent-minded aesthetic; he wants to entertain. Any ideas that pop up about his technique or conditions or the bowler running in are secondary.

To see him signal a free hit today after Chris Martin overstepped, and then nonchalantly drive the next ball for four, was to appreciate him for what he is. A maverick, a free spirit.

2010-11-04T15:00:00.003+05:30

Have uploaded PDFs of my recent interview with Daniel Vettori, published in the November issue of ASM, which is now available at news stands across India.

You can view the article in three parts ... here, here, and here. Sorry its not in one PDF. I'm a bit technologically challenged.

Comments, etc welcomed.

2010-11-03T00:25:00.000+05:30

New Zealand are in the country after a 0-4 ODI whitewash in Bangladesh, and they're not carrying a lot of confidence or numbers going into the three-Test series. Apart from the sheer weight of experience, runs and wickets that separates India from the tourists, what stands out is the ability to bat in pairs and to do so for long periods. A glimpse at the two teams' records over the past 12 months is enough to suggest a lop-sided contest.

In the past 12 months of Test cricket, India's record of batting partnerships is outstanding. Twenty times have pairings crossed 100 and eight have passed the 200-mark. Once even the 300-run threshold (Tendulkar and Vijay's 308 against Australia in Bangalore) was passed.

The two men most likely to feature in a century-plus stand is Tendulkar. Not surprising, given the form he's been in over the last 12 months. Of the 20 century-plus stands, Tendulkar features in eight. Sehwag has had a hand in seven such alliances, Laxman five.

The bulk of these partnerships are clustered around the third, fourth and fifth wickets, which is very encouraging. That shows the strength of the middle order, and the ability to deliver on the occasion when the top order hasn't done a whole lot. The four century-plus opening stands have predictably been dominated by Sehwag. An unbeaten 259-run stand between Dhoni and Laxman, India's second best this past year, came for the seventh wicket. Sufficed to say, batting in pairs isn't a real concern for India.

Compare this to New Zealand. There are just five century-plus partnerships - three for the sixth wicket and one for the seventh. McCullum features in four of the five: 339 for the sixth wicket with Guptill (New Zealand's best stand over the last 12 months), 176 for the sixth wicket with Vettori, 164 with Vettori for the seventh wicket, and 126 for the sixth wicket with Vettori. That's three times that Vettori has had to bat deep for his team's cause. None of the top five collaborations have come from the top of the batting order. New Zealand's best opening stand was an unbeaten 90 between McIntosh and Watling against Pakistan in Napier when a result was improbable. The best for the second wicket was a paltry 50 between McIntosh and Ingram against Bangladesh in Hamilton, while the highest for the third wicket was 117 between Guptill and Taylor against Pakistan in Dunedin.

India's top ten partnerships weight in at a hefty 2374 runs as compared to New Zealand's 1357. That's a whopping 57% more.

Individually, over the past two years India are also streets ahead of New Zealand. India have scored 34 centuries as opposed to New Zealand's 13, with three double-centurions compared to Ryder's 201 against India.

I'm particularly interested in following Tendulkar against New Zealand, against whom he managed just 71 runs in four innings when they toured here seven years ago. He's got a good record against New Zealand (1,406 runs in 19 Tests at an average of more than 52) and in 2010, Tendulkar has scored 1,270 runs in nine Tests at an average of 97.69. If you want some spending money for Vegas, have a little wager on Tendulkar scoring that elusive triple century in the month of November.

India's top 10 partnerships in Tests: Nov 2009 - Nov 2010

Tendulkar & Vijay       308      vs Australia (Bangalore)
Dhoni & Laxman         259*    vs South Africa (Kolkata)
Raina & Tendulkar      256      vs Sri Lanka (Colombo)
Sehwag & Tendulkar   249      vs South Africa (Kolkata)
Dravid & Sehwag        237      vs Sri Lanka (Mumbai)
Gambhir & Sehwag     233      vs Sri Lanka (Kanpur)
Dhoni & Dravid          224       vs Sri Lanka (Ahmedabad)
Dravid & Tendulkar    222*     vs Bangladesh (Dhaka)
Sehwag & Vijay          221      vs Sri Lanka (Mumbai)
Sehwag & Vijay    165    vs Sri Lanka (Colombo)

2010-11-02T18:10:00.003+05:30

Spent a couple hours at the MCA ground today watching the Ranji Trophy match between Mumbai and Saurashtra. About the only moment of excitement was when Rohit Sharma, after a long session at the nets, took over a photographer's camera and began shooting shots of us journalists sitting in the press enclosure.

The cricket, to say the least, was mind-numbingly dull and that is because of the nature of the wicket. How can Indian cricket survive when the curators are happy to produce such benign surfaces? Ajit Agarkar, will all due respect to his batting prowess that earned him a Lord's Test century, and 20-year-old left-arm spinner Iqbal Abdulla, career batting average of 21.64, with a previous best of 30*, should not have been able to bat like Ponsford and Woodfull. Abdulla was steering, cutting and deflecting with such ease and regularity. There was nothing in the wicket for the bowlers, and Ravindra Jadeja deserves a medal for managing four wickets on that track. Abdulla was unbeaten on 150 - 150!! - when Mumbai declared at 580 for 9.

Why can't Indian curators lay pitches that provide a fair degree of bounce? Ask anyone in the know and their response will most always be unsuitability of the soil and interference by captains and host associations. But how long will curators offer these excuses? Why are there but three sporting five-day wickets in the country? To me, the root of the cause is that typical 'sab chaltha hai' attitude. So deep is the malaise that now few can attempt to change anything. There is no other excuse. The BCCI isn't short of money. Is the pitches committee such a threat to administrators of state associations? How can state associations demand wickets of their own liking?

One suggestion, not a solution, would be to scrap the home and away system currently in place. This has been suggested by others at the highest level but to no avail. This should be done for both the Super and Plate leagues. Have matches at neutral venues where pitces are not doctored according to the preference of a captain, coach or board official.

In most grounds across the country, the honorary curator is an elected position within that respective state associations. Many are qualified, but not all. It is those who lack the necessary experience or skills that is killing domestic cricket. In countries such as England, Australia, South Africa and New Zealand, the curator is a professional position; the individual has graduated to level of education in cricket pitch management.

The BCCI and its various state associations need to implement a structure in which new curators are trained. The legion of geriatrics in existence need support and ideally need to be replaced. A system is in place, of that I know, but the pitches committee needs to work harder on formalized training of junior curators. The system must run deep.

What kid today will want to become a bowler if he watches the kind of cricket that was on view at the MCA ground today?

Gimme a D!

2010-10-31T18:30:00.004+05:30

OK, so India jumped on the disco train a few years late. But Bappi Lahiri and Mithun made up for it. This was the era before cable television and the internet, and so granted it took a while for LPs of Abba and the Bee Gees to reach Bombay and into Bappi da's fat, gold-laden fingers. Once he did, the 80s were never the same. And his crowning glory was 1982's Disco Dancer, with Mithun in his career-defining role.

Awesomely bad songs with even more awesomely bad choreography. Everything glitters and flashes. In case you weren't blinded by the excess silver and white costumes, the "chew chew chew" laser effects sure did. Even Liberace would have hid for cover. Flashing lights, mirrors, shiny disco balls, skintight (male and female) costumes and stiletto white boots are the norm here. Only Mithun could make Disco Nite an event where men and women aged 18 to 88 could all clap and sway in unison while he dazzled them with his headgear and footwork on stage. Is your eight-year old daughter bored of the usual Saturday evening routine of Snakes & Ladders or Antakshari? Well then come on down to your nearest auditorium and let Jimmy put a smile on her face and a twist to her hips? And don't worry, even Nani and Nana can join in for some wholesome family entertainment.

If you've seen Disco Dancer, you know what I'm talking about. If you've not, you're missing something. If you're hesitant, here are 18 (the age this film will make you feel again) reasons to go get a copy of this movie, apart from the obvious - that Mithun can dance, that Bappi da's music rocked, and that disco will never die.

1. An aging and overweight Rajesh Khanna grimace his way through 'Goro ki naa kaalon ki' and the kid playing Mithun as a kid strumming that miniature guitar like there's no tomorrow while lip-synching to Usha Mangeshkar. (I have to add here that sitting in a little seafood joint in Galle after covering a day's Test cricket, and looking up to see this very song dubbed in Sinhalese comes very close to a liberating experience, but the original Hindi version is the best).
2. Mithun's Jimmy dancing down a bridge and getting discovered by Om Puri's David Brown, who just happens to be standing under a streetlight waiting for the next dancing sensation to hot-step into town.
3. Tun Tun as the Catholic bride about to marry a little person. About the only intentional comedic scene in the film.

4. Kim, that vintage 80s bombshell who was never far from Mithun's arms and who became Danny's woman.She definitely ain't Lil and she most definitely ain't no Kardashian, this desi dhamaka. Note the scene in which, smitten by our hero's humility rather than his song and dance routine, she comes to reconcile. "Autograph book kahan hai?" asks Jimmy, to which Kim puts a finger to her rosy red lips and pouts suggestively. Or the scene in which, clad in very short denim shorts, she helps Jimmy start walking again on the beach. Medical marvels be damned, those legs could have made crippled men leap into the Bay of Bengal.
5. The West Side Story-inspired snap-fight scene. Dude, don't ever smash Mithun's guitar. He'll snap-fu your ass right there.
6. Jimmy, in a daze because of Guitarphobia (best medical jargon in Hindi cinema since lymphosarcoma of the intestine. Any coincidence that Kaka was in both films?) on stage in a poncho. A poncho. Yes, a poncho. No, really, a poncho.
7. Om Puri as David Brown. Still can't figure out what he was doing in this film. Must ask him someday.
8. David Brown, after Sammy throws a glass of wine in his face, wiping himself and telling an apologetic Nikki: "Its alright, kid." Listening, Mr Bogart?

9. Karan Razdan's Sammy - on debut - and Kalpana Iyer's Nikki gyrating to 'Auva Auva, Koi Yahaan Naache' - a blatant rip-off of 'Video Killed The Radio Star'. Shiny silver costumes? Check. Shiny headbands, male and female, to match? Check. Pointy silver boots, male and female? Check. Awkward dance moves? Check. Fans going wild? Check. All that glitters is not gold, let me tell you. Bang Bang!
10. Sammy cutting a phone call between Nikki and her father David Brown by pressing down on the receiver with his toe. Umm, now that's a moment in world cinema, Vidhu Vinod Chopra.
11. Jimmy in that garish winged costume dancing to the tunes of 'Krishna Dharti Pe Aaja Tu', sung by the one and only Nandu Bhende. It took a while to grown on me, but what a trippy song. Salaam.
12. The scene just after the 'Krishna' song where David Brown shouts: "Jimmy, YOU HAVE DONE IT!" and Bombay is instantly consumed with Jimmy fever: Jimmy ice cream! Jimmy chocolate! Jimmy fabrics! Jimmy T-shirts and perfumes!
13. As part of the same montage, the scene where a husband and wife are shown lying in bed. The husband, thinking his wife, is asleep, turns around and from under his pillow takes out a picture of a bikini-clad bimbette and kisses it. The wife, waiting until the husband closes his eyes, takes out a picture of Jimmy and kisses it. A true WTF moment.

14. Good ol' Bob Christo's entrance. Hired Goon 1 is sitting with Nasty Rich Father. Looking toward the bar, HG 1 says to NRF: "Oberoi sahab, yehi woh aadmi hai. Saala saath khoon kiye hai London mein. Aur ek bahut bada singer hai. Apan ko uska naam nahin maloom. Uska bhi issi ne khoon kiya. Saala top ka criminal hai." NRF pulls on his cigarette and looks ahead very intently. Cut to Bob, who turns around from the bar, scotch in hand, dressed fully in skintight black (turtle neck, mind you) and shades, and walks into the frame.
15. Bob's legendary "Iski taangein tod do" line. You'll go weak in the knees.
16. The world-famous in India "Internationalntie Of Dance Competition" (Yes, that's what the sign says) at the climax where, drum roll, the superbly named "Disco King & Queen Of Africa," who appear to be a Kenyan law student with loose motions and a stoned air hostess.
17. The scene in which NRF sees his heroin-injecting collapse son Sammy at his feet and doesn't so much as flinch. Instead he mutters to the camera as it zooms in, vowing that he won't let anything happen to Sammy. Bhai, baap ho toh aise.
18. The Guitar of Death. I won't say more, except that it's a shocker. No pun intended.

2010-10-30T12:24:00.001+05:30

'Tis the season of XIs, with the pick of the lot being Andy Zaltzman’s list of an attractive but useless XI, which you can have a chuckle over here . With a bit more time on my hands now that I’ve quit my job, I’ve put some thought into an XI of random cricketers who grabbed my attention but ultimately ended up being, at best, footnotes in the glorious game’s history. You may argue that a few on this list don’t even deserve a footnote tag, but this was done primarily through the veil of nostalgia of a time lapsed by. And who doesn’t like reminiscing?

So, here we go …

1. Ali Naqvi I was in my junior year of high school and following the first Test between Pakistan and South Africa in Rawalpindi through the daily reports in the newspaper. The reports of a 20-year-old debutant batsman, Ali Naqvi, were very promising. This was the first batsman to score a Test century on debut that I had the opportunity to follow from the start, and I read up whatever I could on Naqvi. This was 1997 and the Internet had yet to properly arrive at school in Mussoorie, mind you. The reports in the papers, and later Sportstar, described a technically correct batsman who played nice and straight, and who stood up to South Africa’s pace attack where others failed. He batted 353 minutes for his 115, apparently playing mainly off the front foot and with a range of handsome strokes. I was happy for the guy, especially because he’d hardly played any first-class cricket. But then he failed to cross 30 in eight innings and was never turned to again. Last heard, Naqvi was enjoying himself in the obscurity of Thatcham Town in the Thames Valley League.

2. Gagan Khoda You just had to feel sorry for Khoda. Heaps of runs at junior level; a century on Ranji Trophy debut; loads of runs on the domestic scene. Then he was called up as replacement for an injured Tendulkar during a tri-series at home in 1998, scored 89 against Kenya, picked up the Man-of-the-Match award, and was promptly dropped. I watched that entire 89 and it wasn’t a flashy innings. But it was composed and he handled pace and spin well, so there was evidence to suggest he had it in him to succeed. But nope, that was the last we saw of Khoda in blue.

3. Mathew Sinclair When I logged onto Cricinfo a couple days after Christmas 1999, the main story was of a debutant New Zealand batsman who had taken a double century off West Indies. I didn’t get a glimpse of this phenomenon called Mathew Sinclair (dull name, keeping with New Zealand tradition) until he had collected another double ton and a 150 in his first 12 Tests. He wasn’t nearly as commanding or fluent as I had imagined he would be, perhaps because at this stage he was creaking from the burden of expectation, and he was a walking wicket against Australia in 2001. Thirty-three Tests over ten and a half years say a lot.

4. Rob Key More than a cricketer, especially a top-order batsman, Key looked like that fat kid from fifth grade that nicked your tuck and was always hanging around at the baker’s stall. But there was also something endearing about a rosy-cheeked, roly-poly batsman who didn’t emote much at the crease. I watched his debut series against India and then followed his career over the winter when he was part of the Ashes tour. He didn’t do much at home or in Australia, but there was a sparky 47 in another lost cause that forced Steve Waugh to comment: "He doesn't give a shit about much and is real relaxed. I like that in a bloke; it stops him getting overawed." When I next saw Key he was biffing West Indies all over Lord’s for a pretty sweet double-century, but six Tests later he was gone. And with it the last portly batsman of the modern era.

5. HD Ackerman Long before he moved to Grace Road and began churning out runs in county cricket, Ackerman debuted for South Africa against Pakistan in Durban in February 1998. Son of the former Northamptonshire batsman of the same name, he plodded forward efficiently for much of his debut innings of 57 from 155 deliveries from No 4. I watched most of that innings on a tiny TV in the Himalayas, interspersed with a few eight-over tennis ball matches outside, and what I remember most is how at ease Ackerman looked just keeping bat and pad together in monotony. There was the odd square-drive off Mushtaq Ahmed, but overall it was a resourceful innings of patience and grit where Ackerman didn’t offer a stroke. Facing Muttiah Muralitharan turned out to be an altogether tougher situation, however, and Ackerman’s international career was over three weeks later.

6. Gavin Hamilton Who doesn't have a soft spot for the underdog? Having rooted for Hamilton's Scotland during the 1999 World Cup, I was happy to hear that he'd been included in England's Test squad to tour South Africa. This was a major achievement for an Associate player, and I was very interested to see if Hamilton would be picked for one of the Tests. Sure enough, he got his debut. And it was a horrible one. Hamilton bagged a pair and was never even remotely considered for England selection. Not even remotely.

7. Chris Read Has one freak dismissal ever haunted a man more? Sitting in Mussoorie, I watched Read duck into a slow yorker from Chris Cairns and get bowled, and shook my head in disbelief. Countless replays later I still wondered what the guy had been thinking, and to this day Read probably does too. He came into the England team with a lot of respect for his wicketkeeping but somehow never convinced with the bat. Read’s glovework really was, and still is from whatever I see of him in county cricket, smooth and at times brilliant to watch. It all seemed so easy when he was behind the stumps. Singled out by Duncan Fletcher as a flawed ‘keeper – after no less than Rodney Marsh rated Read as the best English stumper he had seen since Alan Knott - Read has barely warranted a mention since his last Test, in 2007.

8. Niroshan Bandaratilleke His name, Mapa Rallalage Chandima Niroshan Bandaratilleke, was enough to get me taking a good look at this slow left-arm spinner when he made his debut. New Zealand were touring Sri Lanka and I was discovering the joys of ball-by-ball commentary on the Internet. MRCN Bandaratilleke had the Kiwis in a fix in just his second Test, spinning out nine wickets. His picture appeared in the Hindu during one of those five days and I saw a scrawny little chap celebrating a wicket with much gusto. I didn’t hear much more of him thereafter, except that he was the middle wicket of a Wasim Akram hat-trick during a Test in Pakistan the following year. Not much was heard of MRCN later.

9. Franklyn Rose I won’t forget Rose decimating India at Sabina Park. He was raw alright, but he was quick and mean. At that time it took some skill to clean up Tendulkar, but Rose did it during his 6 for 100 on debut, which earned him the Man-of-the-Match award, and backed that up with seven wickets in the third Test. This was when Ian Bishop was dwindling through injury and so it was genuinely believed that Rose was the man to take over from Walsh and Ambrose. But alas, that was not the case. His dip started soon after his feats against India, in the form of a fine by the WICB over an outstanding hotel bill, and by 2000 Rose was forgotten.

10. Dean Headley Sharing a birthday has nothing to do with my interest in Dean Warren Headley. This Headley, son of Ronald Headley and grandson of West Indian legend George Headley, came into prominence at around the time I took to following England seriously. He had the height (6’5”) and decent pace, and after a remarkable eight wickets on Test debut it seemed England were onto something. This was, after all, the decade in which England’s assembly line of fast bowlers included Neil Mallender, Mark Ilott, Peter Martin, Steve Watkin, Paul Jarvis, Martin McCague, Joey Benjamin, Tim Munton, Alan Igglesden, Paul Taylor, Neil Williams, Mike Smith, Neil Foster, Simon Brown, Phil Newport and David Lawrence. Sitting in Dhaka of all places, I watched Headley decimate a strong Australian line-up in the fourth Test of the 1998 Ashes, and it was truly an astonishing display. He was almost unplayable, and just seemed so perfect in that role. Given his talent, it is a surprise that he did not play more than 15 Tests (60 wickets, strike-rate 50.4) for England. But full marks for trying.

11. Anthony Stuart ‘Anthony Kaun Hai?’ wasn’t about this man, but it would be an apt name for a film if ever it were to be made. I spent many a winter’s morning waking up to watch cricket relayed from Australian summers, and of the many Carlton & United Series matches I watched, the most abiding memory is of a beanpole Anthony Mark Stuart taking a hat-trick against Pakistan at the MCG. And then I never saw him again. His run-up was smooth, the release almost mechanical, and on this particular day his pace and bounce did for Ijaz Ahmed, Moin Khan and Mohammad Wasim. The Wisden verdict: “As a teenager, he was a wicket-keeper, but found his niche in bowling history when Moin Khan edged a perfectly pitched leg-cutter to slip, and he finished with five for 26.” They forgot to add that Stuart never played for Australia again, and that within 12 months was released by his state side.

2010-10-29T12:20:00.000+05:30

Shane Bond's new book is due out. Worth reading, I'd imagine. I only saw Bond play once live, in a poor Champions Trophy match against Sri Lanka at the Brabourne in 2006. He didn't bowl very well, and Sanath Jayasuriya played a couple trademark whips and flicks off him, even as my father, seated next to me, grimaced and urged Stephen Fleming to keep a square third man for Jayasuriya.

That disappointing day did nothing to take away the effect of the man. I had followed his career from the time I read he was a former constable, and when I first saw him on TV it was evident he was fast. And that he could move a cricket ball. Swing has always fascinated me and seeing Bond make the ball talk against a struggling Indian batting line-up on a blustery Wellington morning was something special. The way he ran in, all fluidity and grace with that purist's action, was mesmerizing and a bit frightening. And I was sitting in the US watching it on the Internet. The yorker that did for Dravid was outstanding.

Most of my Bond viewing was during college and on the Internet. I will never forget his World Cup achievements (17 wickets), and that awesome display at Port Elizabeth, a match New Zealand had no business losing. Ball after ball, over after over, Bond ran in and terrorized the Aussies. Hayden, Gilchrist, Ponting and Martyn were hopping, missing and nicking. Bond always saved his best for Australia.

Shame that Bond missed twice as many matches as he played for New Zealand. Could have been one of New Zealand's greats.

While in Sri Lanka last year, I had written this diary entry on watching Bond bowl in the nets on the eve of his New Zealand comeback. It is a memory I will always cherish.

2010-10-28T11:32:00.000+05:30

"Cricket is at first and foremost a dramatic spectacle. It belongs with the theater, ballet, opera and the dance." So wrote CLR James. James never got a chance to see Virender Sehwag bat, but if he had, he would have decreed Sehwag's batting as one of the greatest pieces of evidence for that statement.

Another channel-flipping session last night. Of the lot, Sehwag at the MCG in 2003-04 was by far the best. Audacious innings. Sehwag is a spectacle. There is no better word to describe him. He provides the theatrics day in an day out, be it by slicing a short ball over third man for six in the first half hour of a Test match, pinching a frenzied single to move to 93 in the over before lunch, or by moving to 300 with a six. A twinkle-toed drive off a spinner through extra cover is to behold beauty. A similar shot against a fast bowler, on dancing feet, is to submit yourself.

Sehwag isn't all ferocity. Even in picking up a single he can be audacious. But it is his nonchalant determination and ability to score in any condition that sets Sehwag apart. His batting against Sri Lanka, albeit on a flat track, at the Brabourne in late 2009 was of a different world. My father, who sat in the stands during that phenomenal innings, said it was the best batting he'd seen live since Tendulkar's double-century for Mumbai against the Australians at that same ground in 1998.

Ian Chappell, who once termed Sehwag "the greatest destroyer since the U-boat", has his three S theory of Sehwag, others have created a terminology. In 2008 Sehwag's Test strike rate was 85; in 2009 he scored his Test runs at over a run a ball. After Bradman, only Sehwag has crossed 290 more times in a Test.

"The moment I hit two or three boundaries in an over, they spread the field. If you are lucky, if I make a mistake, then I will get out," he said in that customary matter-of-fact manner during the Sri Lanka Tests this past summer.

Today, a typical field for Sehwag will include a deep point, fine leg, square third man and leg gully. The ball will be banged in at his ribs. He will hop across and work the ball of his hips. Most times it will fetch him runs. Sometimes he will find the man at deep square leg. Many time she will upper-cut the ball deliberately in front of that deep point fielder.

There was a time when Sehwag didn't get that left foot across in the line of the ball. He would go hard at the full and inswinging deliveries on middle and off or thereabouts. He would most likely stay beside the line instead of getting behind it. Today he gets inside it a lot more. He isn't as susceptible outside off anymore. He plays a lot more on-side shots. He admits he isn't a good hooker or puller, but he's made his own ways of scoring.

That he puts away length deliveries on the rise, with disdain and regularity, is another matter. Sehwag doesn't hurry to get to the ball, rather he hangs in his crease with a bit of a movement back. His bat speed is terrific, much like Adam Gilchrist's and Mark Waugh's, and it is that lack of footwork that actually allows him to negotiate reverse swing. Rarely is he cramped when going for the ball. If he is, he relies on that same bat speed and ferocity of wrists.

Sehwag has had to battle a few demons along the way. He has had his ODI woes and short-pitched woes. But he has always come back hard, worked on his shortcomings, and trusted his instincts. Australia, South Africa and Sri Lanka have most recently tried all sorts of tactics. At times they have succeeded, but most likely Sehwag has come out on top. Most recently he was the target of a bouncer barrage in Bangalore and fell to the trap, but it made for fascinating viewing. And you know Sehwag will have his revenge of Australia. That's what is so endearing about the man. He won't give in.

When he knows its going to come at him short, Sehwag goes deep. He doesn't shy away from pulling in front of square. There will be days it doesn't come off. But that's the rush of watching Sehwag bat. Technique is irrelevant.

Of technique and television

2010-10-27T11:46:00.002+05:30

Indian television is great for cricket. Not if you're typing the ball-by-ball commentary for Cricinfo and an ad cuts off a bowler's celebration after a wicket, but in terms of how much cricket it shows and how consistently. Yesterday afternoon, flipping through channels, I was able to choose from highlights of an ODI between India and Australia in Indore in 2001, another between South Africa and Zimbabwe from last week, Dravid and Laxman batting India toward victory in the famous Adelaide Test of 2003-04, Sri Lanka beating New Zealand at the Brabourne in 2006 (an ODI I happened to watch live), Somerset's facile win over Derbyshire in last season's Twenty20 Cup quarter-finals, and Matthew Wade's maiden limited-overs century against Western Australia in a Ryobi Cup fixture from over the weekend. An overdose, surely, many would say.

But flipping through every format of the game, with different teams going at it in different countries and conditions, allowed me the chance to see so many different styles and techniques within the span of a few clicks.

There was the masterful: a Tendulkar straight drive between the bowler and mid-on and a flick over backward square leg. There was the orthodox: Dravid and Laxman crisply driving and flicking the feared pace duo of Brad Williams and Andy Bichel, interspersed with the odd shot of a water-tight forward defensive. There was the ugly: Graeme Smith stabbing at the ball violently and inside-edging Shingarai Masakadza past square leg. There was the effortless: an in-form Hashim Amla punching length balls on the up past cover. There was the modern day orthodox: Craig Kieswetter making room and lofting spin inside-out over extra cover for six. And there was the totally unorthodox: Wade paddling a fast bowler for four and Trego connecting hard on a reverse sweep.

I've always enjoyed watching the different techniques on view, especially the more unorthodox. Sehwag and Trescothick are my two faves. They are testament to the fact that footwork counts for little when you are blessed with amazing hand-eye coordination, sweet timing, and a whole lotta self confidence. My main gripe with Trescothick's otherwise endearing autobiography, Coming Back To Me, was that he didn't allow the reader into his style of batting and how he honed it. Would have been fascinating to find out whether he was coached on his batting, or if people tried to correct his footwork. But that's another story for another day.

After Sehwag and Trescothick, the most successful current batsman not to have great foot work is Graeme Smith. How he has scored so many runs despite a problem with the moving ball delivered from left-handers - especially Zaheer Khan - and such an ungainly approach is a bit baffling, given he isn't nearly as sweet a timer of the ball as the aforementioned duo. He doesn't bring the bat down from second slip, as the coaching manuals want you to. Instead he brings it down from gully, and then relies on his wrists to jab at the ball and work it away anywhere from square leg to mid-on. He manages to keep the bat face straight very regularly as well. Its makes for fascinating viewing, especially when Smith bats for long periods.

As I flipped, I came across Fleming, another left-hand batsman who didn't bring the bat down in the more accepted way, and who also looked a bit awkward at the crease. He had a higher back lift than Smith, and used to get out a lot of times lbw to left-armers, most noticably Chaminda Vaas. In that Brabourne match, the commentators were talking of how many times Vaas had nailed Fleming and, as if on cue, Fleming walked across his stumps and was out for 10-ball duck. Same routine: the bat came down angled instead of straight and as Fleming tried to stand tall and on-drive he was late and beaten by the movement. Bringing the bat down from somewhere near point once again got him in trouble.

It was a fascinating half hour of flipping back and forth and seeing a range of batting techniques. Yes, I need a life, I know.

Class will out?

2010-10-25T11:57:00.001+05:30

The last post on unfulfilled talent lead me to think about the small and select band of Indian cricketers who lorded over the domestic circuit but never played for their country.

Here’s the list I came up with:

KP Bhaskar With more than 5000 runs at an average of 52.84 in 95 first-class matches, and being the Indian Cricketer of the Year in 1989, Bhaskar was perennially close to earning the India cap. Between 1983 and 1989, he averaged close to 70.00 with 13 centuries. But, as he once told me, he just wasn’t destined to play for India.

Rajinder Goel In a domestic career that began with Punjab in 1958-59 and ended with Haryana in 1984-85, Goel took a record 640 wickets in the Ranji Trophy. Apart from one unofficial Test against Sri Lanka (then Ceylon) in 1964-65, he never represented his country. His 640 wickets from 123 matches at a stunning average of 17.15 is a record unlikely to be broken.

Amarjeet Kaypee With 7,623 runs and 27 hundreds in Ranji cricket, a Ranji record for nine years, Kaypee retired in 2000 without once being called up to represent India.

Amol Muzumdar Another domestic giant, Muzumdar broke Kaypee’s Ranji record on November 6, 2009. That he wasn't wearing his beloved Mumbai cap when he did so tells his tale. Muzumdar was one of the many middle-order batsmen born in the wrong era, that of Azharuddin, Tendulkar, Dravid, Laxman and Ganguly. He began his first-class career with an unbeaten 260 and stacked up runs for Mumbai season after season, winning seven Ranji titles.

Padmakar Shivalkar Like Goel, the Mumbai left-arm spinner, was unlucky to be bowling in an era when India’s Famous Four. Even 589 first-class wickets and several Ranji Trophy titles couldn’t get Shivalkar into the national side.

Uday Joshi Another spinner to be completely overshadowed by the great quartet. Took 577 first-class wickets for Saurashtra, Gujarat and Sussex.

Sarkar Talwar The former Haryana offspinner’s first-class career spanned 21 years and he is a very respectable name in the league of Indian spinners, being the second highest wicket-taker in Ranji cricket.

Ashish Winston Zaidi Domestic cricket’s own Amar Akbar Anthony consistently delivered over his first-class career as a pace bowler for UP yet was always overlooked. His 348 wickets were second only to Madan Lal’s 351 for pace bowlers in the Ranji Trophy.

Anand Shukla One of only a few domestic players with over 3,000 runs and 300 wickets in Ranji cricket, he looked on as his brother Rajesh played one Test.

Limitless talent? Limits of talent?

2010-10-23T13:04:00.003+05:30

This post on Cricinfo about Owais Shah and the limits of talent made me chuckle. Another hero has fallen. Or so another cricket romantic would like you to believe. The Brits, in particular, like to talk (a lot) about sports and can talk about practically any player, match, manager, coach, physiotherapist, ball boy, bus driver and ticket vendor with equal ferocity and passion and disbelief. I have read, seen and heard this on many an occasion. Brit sports fans love to dissect and analyze, but most of all - apart from wallowing in their room temperature beer and feeling sad about themselves - they like to romanticize the failed genius. There is no greater example of this than Mark Ramprakash. The batsman, not the dancer.

Each April, as the winter gives way to spring - well, not spring, but a somewhat overcast and gloomy summer - and the bats and balls come out, talk of Ramps reaches a crescendo. How many centuries this season? Will he help Surrey avoid relegation? Surely, now that he's past 40, a recall is due? Will he catch Osama? Can he resuscitate the global economy? Folks, he was never going to be recalled for The Oval Test.

Ed Smith, another batsman from whom much was expected, summarized Ramprakash's dilemma succinctly: "The clouds of professionalism descended, and viewing what he did as a job made Ramprakash less good at doing it." Simple. Shut it, move on. The Ballad of Mark Ramprakash is not going to be made into a BAFTA-winning feature film.

There have been many others that have been dissected and romanticized. Graeme Hick, anyone? Hick loyalists will gladly tell you that his three half-centuries in the 1992 World Cup, after a poor contribution to Worcestershire's Bensen & Hedges Cup triumph, helped England reach the final. That Hick topped England's batting and bowling averages on the our of India in 1992-93, scoring his maiden Test hundred. That he averaged 46.44 in Tests between 1992-1995. That in 2001 Hick scored 200* against Durham, completing the set of having made first-class hundreds against all 17 other counties, both home and away. That in 2008 Hick became the most prolific run-scorer in all cricket, with more than 70,000 runs to his name, and the first player to play in more than 1200 games. And that Hick's tally of 136 hundreds ranks eighth on the all-time list.

But if you look at it objectively, was Hick really an enigma, or just a flat-track, front-foot thumper? He had a record-breaking career with Worcestershire but never fulfilled his potential with England, but the man himself has admitted he didn't have "the ruthlessness" to cut it at the top.

To be an English cricket fan is to be wary of success and ambition and disdainful of accomplishment. To be an English cricket fan is embrace defeat and toast the vanquished. To be an English cricket fan is to watch heroes dazzle and be walloped. Which is way the fallen are so often romanticized. Today Owais Shah is being seen as a missed opportunity. Previously casualties include Derek Randall, one of Nottinghamshire's most revered sons, Mark Lathewell, Chris Lewis, Phil Tufnell, and Vikram Solanki (whom Ian Botham at one time insisted was "the future" for England). Tomorrow it will be Ravi Bopara.

Like England, India too went through a phase of promising so much and then falling flat. Refer to the 1980s.
Indian cricket's three biggest stars of the Unfulfilled Talent category are Vinod Kambli, Sadanand Viswanath and Laxman Sivaramakrishnan. But instead of a legion of hopeless romantics, its these three who you'd most likely find with their faces in a beer talking about what could have been. We know have to deal with Siva from the commentary box, mind you, and Kambli on Sach Ka Saamna. This after Kambli tried his hand at film. It is not so much romantic as comedic.

Sitting in the stands at the PCA Stadium watching Kings XI Punjab open their campaign in the last IPL season, it was poignant to see three of this generation's most promising players all in the same floundering team - Yuvraj Singh, Mohammad Kaif and Irfan Pathan.

Yuvraj should have sealed a place in the Test middle order years ago, while Irfan fell victim to the dangers of rapid promotion, having been elevated into the national team far too prematurely and then jettisoned just as he was coming to terms with his game. He has now been given the epitaph "former future Kapil Dev". And Kaif ... well, a friend and experienced journalist once termed "India's Michael Chang" - super fit, always buzzing around, just never going to go anywhere - and I think that says it all.

No romanticizing these three. Lets leave that to the Brits.

2010-10-22T12:38:00.001+05:30

Had a discussion recently about how India lack the bowling to win the World Cup as well as how the No 1 Test team tag doesn't fit a side with the current bowling attack. Talk invariably drifted to how this is the Golden Age of batting. It got thinking about a piece written by Gideon Haigh and after some quick browsing managed to locate it here.

I've dug out some stats to show how the bat has indeed dominated ball over the past decade or so. The average runs per wickets during the 464 Tests played during the 2000s was 34.17, the highest since the 1940s (35.77). There has been a rapid rise in run-rates: in the 2000s, every team scored faster than the previous decade.Leading that race were the Australians, who in the 2000s scored their runs at 3.39 as compared to 2.87 in the 1990s.

As compared to the 107757 runs that were scored from 108 Tests in the 1990s, 130475 were scored from 115 in the 2000s. In the 2000s there were 99 double-centuries scored by Test batsmen (including Jason Gillespie, that great allrounder!). In the 1990s there were just 41. Indeed, batting averages are soaring. Flat pitches, Zimbabwe, Bangladesh and a sagging West Indies are factors.

But there is hope for the bowlers. It was interesting to find out that bowling strike-rates were higher in the previous decade than any before. The three most successful wicket-takers in Test cricket were spinners; one retired in 2007, another in 2008, and the third this year, though he is still very much in his country's World Cup plans. Swann is leading the spinners' charge and the likes of Steyn, Morne Morkel, Roach, Johnson and Mohammad Amir (his verdict pending) are keeping batsman anxious. All is not lost.

There is no doubt that Test cricket has changed, and that the biggest influence has come from one-day cricket. Why old-timers lament that change is what bemuses me. Why wouldn't you be happy with faster scoring rates? Look at the recent series between India and Australia. Australia batted first both times and scored over 400 both times (478 in the first innings of the second Test) ... and ended up losing both matches. How many times can you remember a side scoring over 400 in the first innings and losing? It makes for absorbing Test cricket. That India scored their first-innings reply on both occasions at 3.74 and 3.41 respectively, each time themselves crossing 400 (495 in the second innings of the second Test), allowed them to win both contests. Brilliant.

This aggressive attitude towards batting in Test cricket is what makes the modern game so interesting. Today's Test cricket makes many series of the past, even famous ones, look dull. Batsmen attack from the go (how many times have we seen the first ball of a match been hit for four over cover of point?), bowlers have worked hard on reverse swing and mystery deliveries, diving and sliding has become the norm, direct-hit run outs from short leg and short midwicket are common features. Today's Tests most always reach a conclusion; some before stumps on the fourth day. Granted this has a lot to do with weaker teams, but it can also be argued that pitches have become much flatter. Winning matches inside four days on flat tracks takes some bowling, doesn't it?

In the 1960s, 42% of India's Tests ended in a draw; in the 1970s, 56%; that rose to 60% in the 1980s and fell to 45% in the 1990s. In 2000s, the first decade in which India played over 100 Tests, they drew only 17%. England, in the 1960s, drew half of their Tests; in the 1990s, about a third; in the 2000s, less than a quarter. Australia drew less than a third of their Tests in the 1970s; just over a quarter in the 1990s; just 16% in the 2000s.

In the 2000s, a whopping 75% of Tests played ended in a result. That is higher than any other decade since the 1910s, when war accounted for just 29 Tests across the ten years. Since January 1, 2010, only three of 29 Tests played entirely have ended in draws. I'd say that's a pretty healthy piece of evidence.

2010-10-20T14:10:00.000+05:30

With so many XIs doing the round of Cricinfo’s pages this week, I’m going to put up a few XIs of my own. I’ve not included men I’ve not seen play, such as fatties Colin Milburn, WC Grace and Warwick Armstrong or giants like Joel Garner and Tony Greig. This is just from those I’ve seen play.

Food and Beverage XI

1. Jesse Ryder (Beer is his diet)

2. Mark Cosgrove (My, that lad is big!)

3. David Boon (Well obviously)

4. Inzamam-ul-Haq (Wasn’t called ‘Aaloo’ for nothing)

5. Arjuna Ranatunga (Could have doubled for a sumo wrestler)

6. Mike Gatting (Don’t need to say much)

7. Rod Marsh (A sizably paunchy ‘keeper)

8. Ramesh Powar (Lends substance to lower order)

9. Ian Austin (No size 10)

10. Merv Hughes (Another double entendre)
11. Dwayne Leverock (The ground beneath me in Bangalore shook when he dived in Trinidad)

12th man: Akram Khan (Biggest Bangladeshi of all time. Of all time.)

13th man (team chef): Samit Patel (Dropped for being overweight? Check.)

Godzilla XI

1. Chris Gayle

2. Michael Vandort

3. Will Jefferson

4. Peter Fulton

5. Albie Morkel

6. Jacob Oram

7. Courtney Browne (wk)

8. Chris Tremlett

9. Morne Morkel

10. Suleiman Benn

11. Mohammad Irfan

12th man: Ishant Sharma

2010-10-19T16:22:00.001+05:30

County cricket attracted me even before I had seen a match or knew the names of players. It just seemed like the breeding ground for world-class Test players. The Aussies were all over in England playing, Gavaskar had played over there, Yorkshire had signed up Tendulkar, albeit with relatively unsuccessful results, and it was where Botham and Richards struck up a lasting friendship. Visually, initially from the odd photograph in Sportstar or a grainy black-and-white snap in the dailies, and later once cable television started relaying highlights, the cricket was pristine. The grounds, with names so decidedly Edwardian, dotted with white picket fences, the players looking dapper in their sweaters and starched whites, collars turned up sharply as they stood at slip awaiting a catch or playing a hook shot.

County cricket, and in particular their major venues, had been honored in prose and poetry and added to the fable that was English cricket. Cardus, Arlott, Fingleton, Robertson-Glasgow. Lord's, Trent Bridge, Old Trafford, Headingley, Edgbaston, The Oval. I wanted to go to these grounds and soak in the history.

From late April to early September, England was the place to be, as far as I was concerned.

Briefly, in 1998-99, Star Sports showed occasional footage of the county season. I remember watching the Holliake brothers bowl in tandem for Surrey; Graeme Hick batting at Worcester; and a young Yorkshire offspinning-allrounder, Michael Vaughan, whom my father said had the potential to play for England. Sure enough, Vaughan was called up for the tour of South Africa later that year and, batting at No. 6 with England a shocking 2 for 4, easing the nerves somewhat with an assured 33.

Landing in London for the first time, I peered eagerly out of the window (I had specifically asked for this seat) and counted the number of cricket strips I could pick out from above. There seemed to be so many. Having previously only watched cricket at the Wankhede and Mohali, the greenery was overwhelming.

The first county game I watched live came after I'd witnessed both semi-finals of the 1999 World Cup - a one-sided affair at Old Trafford, and arguably the best ODI ever, the tied match at Edgbaston - was Surrey v Lancashire, at The Oval, day one, in what was then the PPP Healthcare County Championship. As my father and I paid for our tickets and entered through the turnstiles, I remember being overawed at how lush the grass was. And then by how easy it was to get a seat – the ground was virtually empty – and how accessible the players were.

Mike Gatting, suited and booted, engaged in banter with fans from the players’ enclosure, which was not 10 feet from where we sat. The players signed autographs and shook hands with spectators as they walked back from lunch and tea. I remember big Andrew Flintoff walking out to bat and being bowled for a duck. I remember a spanking pull shot by Mark Butcher off Peter Martin, followed by a square cut off Muralitharan; Murali’s dismissal of Ian Ward, lbw and looking clueless as to whether to play forward or back; John Crawley, padded up and waiting to bat, lighting up a cigarette; an old man sitting in front of us with a pint of beer and score sheet on which he monitored every single piece of action that unfolded.

After that year I went to the US for college. Now there was the Internet to keep up with the scores. There were a few whose careers I would follow as closely as possible. Every day – usually behind the student supervisor’s desk at the library – I would go to the BBC site for the updates on all the county action. As the weeks went by I grew to associate initials with counties – SC Moore, SP Peters (Worcestershire); DP Fulton, RWT Key, ET Smith, (Kent); MJ Chilton (Lancashire); RL Johnson (Somerset); DI Stevens (Leicestershire); DA Cosker (Glamorgan) – and as the runs or wickets piled up for a few individuals I began following their careers closely. It was especially pleasing to see a few of these names go on to play for England: Key in the summer of 2002 and Smith and Johnson the following year.

I got the chance to watch and cover county cricket – all three formats – in the summer of 2008. I went to Lord’s, The Oval, Tunbridge Wells and Uxbridge. I should have gone to a lot more grounds, but work and my financial situation were factors. I took the tube and commuter rail get to grounds; along the way I had for company a the first edition of that great anthology, The Joy of Cricket, given to me by a friend before I left India. During that summer I met journalists whom I had read and heard, as well as old-timers in the stands who shared their views of the modern game. I sat in press boxes I had once seen on television. I sat next to Mike Atherton in The Oval press box with Mike Selvey and Christopher Martin-Jenkins the only other people in the room, and Atherton turned around and asked me a question about Cricinfo, for whom I worked at the time.

The four-day game still didn’t have many spectators, but the Twenty20s did. Now there were pink shirts and pink grips, but still the game just seemed right. Now I could drink beer, and did so with a pack of Walkers crisps and the sun on my back, while watching Surrey take on Hampshire at The Oval. The players still looked dapper, their collars were still as starched as I had remembered, and the sound off the bat when someone cracked a pull was still so sweet. And that is how I will always remember county cricket.

2010-10-17T18:54:00.001+05:30

I am a mood for some reminiscing of the good old DD days. One channel. Fewer ads. Quality programming. A time when celebrities didn't endorse everything under the sun. When there were no 24-hour news channels. When Chitrahaar was the shizzle. When Vico turmeric was applicable, not men's fairness cream. When you couldn't make stars with your thumbs. When Michael Jackson was black.

Mile sur mera tumhara. Hum Log. Buniyaad. Nukkad. Karamchand. Vyomkesh Bakshi. Dee Dee's Comedy Show. The Guinness Book of World Records. Rangoli. Ek Anek. Tehkikaat. Mr Yogi. Jugalbandi. Malgudi Days.

And what about those ads? Nirma washing powder; Fevicol; Parle G; Maggi Hot n Sweet; Rasna; Dabur Chywanprash; Complan; Laxman Sylvania; B-Tex; Cincara; Ajantha clocks; Cinthol; Lifebuoy; Bajaj; Lijjat Papad; Cadbury's; Limca; Gold Spot; Prestige Pressure Cooker; Pan Parag; Woodwards Gripe water; the kid in yellow pyjamas pointing to the giant puri tumbling down the TV screen. The list is endless.

Some unforgettable jingles/punchlines:
- 'Bhool na jaana, ECE bulb laana'
- 'Jab main chhota bachcha tha'
- 'Jaandar savari, shandaar savari'
- 'VICO turmeric, nahin cosmetic'
- 'Boost is the secret of MY energy…OUR energy!'
- 'Zor lagake hai ya, dum laga ke haiya!'
- 'Humko Binnies maangta'
- 'Only Vimal'
- 'Mango Frooty, fresh n juicy'
- 'Namak ho Tata ka, Tata namak'
- 'Jo biwi se karein pyaar, woh Prestige se kaise karein inkaar?'
- 'Humein kya maloom tha aap bhi Pan Parag ke shaukeen hain!'
- 'Meri jaan, meri jaan, murgi ke ande'
- 'Arre huzoor, Wah Taj kahiye'
- 'Khujli karne waale! B-Tex lagaa le!'

What are your memories of that era?

2010-10-16T12:48:00.002+05:30

Matthew Hayden recently unveiled how during the boot camp in the lead-up to the 2006-07 Ashes clean sweep, Shane Warne, a fierce critic of John Buchanan's methods, sat in a ditch during one night of grueling exercises saying: "I'm weak, I'm soft and I want to go home."

It was the camp that threatened to divide the Australian cricket team back - a punishing four days in the Queensland bush that was designed to boost the bond between players.

Yesterday, news filtered out that James Anderson is a major doubt for the first Ashes Test after it emerged he suffered a broken rib while boxing during England’s recent team bonding trip to Germany.

WTF?

Anderson is England’s strike bowler – with due respect to Graeme Swann – and losing him to injury will be a bitter blow for the England management. It also brings into question the wisdom of the trip to Germany which was unpopular with several members of the squad, coming as it did at the end of a demanding summer.

Now just why would you engage players in a boxing bout?

It is one thing to travel to Galipoli and the Somme and Flanders Field, but exerting physical pressure on the very players who served you so spectacularly all year? Granted Messrs Flower and Strauss – sounds like a botanical garden – haven’t done much wrong over the past 12 months, but this just isn’t cricket.

Great expectations

2010-10-15T10:50:00.001+05:30

Both were batsmen earmarked for greatness long before they were drafted into their national squads. Both had supporters who felt their eventual international debuts had been prolonged. Both are technically sound top-order batsmen in the mould of former batsmen from their respective countries who had been burdened with similar expectations when they made their debuts. Both accrued domestic reputations of being able to deliver the goods under pressure. Both are at home in the slow, low conditions that reward technique and application. Both made attractive 70s on Test debut. Both took sharp catches on debut. Both have always been more comfortable in the shadows than the limelight. Neither is like to fill a room with their aura as soon as they step into it; instead they’ll probably shrink when all eyes turn towards them.

I’m talking about Ian Bell and Cheteshwar Pujara. At the exact spot where Pujara is after one Test, there are similarities to where Bell was at the same juncture. They both came into the side with the weight of expectations on their shoulders, given the strong first-class records they had accrued and the praises they had heaped on them. Both had been knocking on the selectors’ doors for some time and it had become virtually impossible to ignore them. Both looked utterly at ease in Test cricket. Both became men after one Test.

Bell was drafted onto the England tour of New Zealand in 2001-02 as cover for an injured Mark Butcher. He had scored recently 836 runs for Warwickshire at an average of over 64, including three centuries. In August 2004, Bell finally made his Test debut against West Indies and made a polished 70 in his only innings. It would ten months before he played again for England, and when he did he ransacked lowly Bangladesh to lift his batting average to 297, including a maiden Test century. From here, Bell found world champions Australia entirely different proposition for the rest of the summer.

Pujara, a run machine in domestic cricket, has had to watch other, less-prolific batsmen walk past him and into the Indian side. Along the way he changed his approach and strike-rate, seemingly to prove his detractors wrong. This despite - at the age of 22 - a first-class average of 60, with three successive seasons of heavy run-scoring (averaging 53.35, 65.56 and 82.33 respectively).

Now that he’s made his Test debut, Pujara will make way for VVS Laxman when he recovers and steps back into the middle order for three Tests against New Zealand. On the fifth day in Bangalore, Pujara played an innings from No 3 that the man he replaced for that particular innings, Rahul Dravid, would have been proud of. Bell too eased into the role he was required to fill when he played his debut Test and then humbly went back to domestic cricket to continue to churn out runs until he was required for England again.

Bell has since endured a rollercoaster international career and pretty much seen it all, while only recently beginning to fill the expectations of a cricketing fraternity. Pujara is just starting out at the top. His place, it would seem on the basis of his sparkling 72, is at one down once Dravid goes. Pujara hasn’t done enough to usurp India’s greatest No 3 yet, and with Laxman returning to fitness and Raina doing well so far, he will have to be patient. Much like Bell was. From there on, lets see if the similarities continue.

2010-10-14T11:18:00.002+05:30

An India-Australia series gets top billing and this was a series to cherish for the home side. They lived up to their status as the No 1 Test side and played some enthralling cricket.

Forget what critics and pundits say about the IPL and Champions League being massive stepping stones for the young crop of Indian cricketers. Test cricket, and especially a Test series between two competitive sides, offers so much more than six weeks of bonhomie on the Twenty20 bandwagon. You can go through a lifetime of emotions in five days, and surely an afterlife if you happened to be a part of the Indian camp during the humdinger of a final day in Mohali.

Anil Kumble recently pointed out that the core of India’s tomorrow has to go from strength to strength on the field and in their minds, individually and as a unit. They have to get to know their own games, he said, and that doesn’t mean get to know how to play in a Test, ODI or Twenty20, but how to prepare mentally, to know ‘this is what I need to do to be at my best’.

It is rare that India have rookies to experience a series win in their first exposure to the national side; Murali Vijay and Amit Mishra were the last to do so when India beat Australia in 2008. Cheteshwar Pujara and Jaidev Unadkat have so much to learn from being in the dressing room through those five days of Test cricket, and to be on the field as the post-match talk and presentations panned out.

It was especially heartening to see a tired and sweaty Tendulkar hand over souvenir stumps to an enthusiastic and refreshed, shorts and slipped-clad Pragyan Ojha, emphatically: “Pujara ko ek dena.” The message was loud and clear – the debutant had played a big role in this series-winning victory, and he had to be recognized and made to feel important.

Unadkat did no more than bowl to the likes of Sehwag and Dravid (who was dismissed by left-handers thrice in the series, all got behind the wicket) in the nets before and during the Bangalore Test - the sole reason he was picked, according to Ravi Shastri – but he would have experienced so much. He is still some ways away from national reckoning, given that he’s yet to play a first-class game, but to be part of this series he would have been exposed to much more than possible while on tour with the A team or in the IPL. He needed to be a part of the celebrations after the win, and hopefully he will take those memories with him and ply away for Saurashtra with a new zest and vigor.

A winning environment breeds winners. If India can keep on winning, they won’t have to worry so much about the next generation.

Rooting for the rookie

2010-10-13T14:36:00.002+05:30

It’s always good to see a rookie do well on his Test debut. It’s especially pleasing when the debutant is someone like young Cheteshwar Pujara, who has had to put in the hard yards for some time.

Pujara hasn’t divided opinion among Indian cricket followers like VVS Laxman, Sourav Ganguly, Yuvraj Singh or even a Sadagoppan Ramesh have in the past. He came into prominence in the 2006-07 Ranji season, with 600 runs at over 50. Over the next three season he averaged 53.35, 65.56 and 82.33. His supporters bemoaned his being neglected despite a first-class average of over 60, while his detractors said he scored largely at home on a dodo-dead Rajkot track and that he didn’t score big hundreds and was a tad slow. But Pujara ticked off each of the issues his critics pointed out. He scored runs away from home; he scored three consecutive triple centuries; he improved his strike-rate; he scored in England and Australia.

When Pujara cover-drove his second delivery in Test cricket for four through cover-point, it was a shot that released a couple years of frustration. Despite the bulk of runs and having passed nearly every test needed for international selection, he had been neglected by the national selectors until very recently, when the squad for the two Tests against Australia was announced.

In a chanceless second-innings 72, Pujara showed that he indeed had the ability to score runs. At the end of the day, the five wise men who make up the selection panel have no more reasons to doubt Pujara’s capability. Granted this wasn’t a menacing surface or bowling attack, but the manner in which Pujara took to the bowling – having fallen to a brute of a shooter in the first dig after a six-hour wait with pads strapped on – showed he had the technique to face international bowlers.

What is certain his ability to look extremely comfortable in the middle – on Indian pitches, at lease. Against the Aussies, he played some spanking drives though the off side, and some even better cut shots. When Shane Watson pitched short, Pujara emphatically pulled him over midwicket for four to raise his half-century on debut. Two deliveries earlier he had created the angle to flick Watson’s straight delivery past fine leg. His strike-rate began frenetically and remained brisk throughout his stay.

That Pujara is indeed a contender for a middle-order berth in the not too distant future has been proved by his selection in the squad and his performance in the Bangalore Test. The selectors were criticized for taking their time to pick Pujara, but is 22 too late? Not at all. Pujara is certain to be picked for the Tests against New Zealand and though he may not get further chances this year to prove his ability or inability, he will not be banished back to domestic cricket.

His closest competitor is Yuvraj, who he replaced in the squad. That Yuvraj, since making his India debut in 2000, has been unable to cement his place in the Test middle order is a great Indian tragedy. With so much talent, he should have knocked aside one of VVS Laxman or Sourav Ganguly a while ago. It is no argument to hear from Yuvraj and his supporters that it was impossible to do that given how rich India’s middle order was. If you are that good, you kick the door down.

It can now be argued that Pujara has a stronger claim than Yuvraj by virtue of his debut performance, sharp close-in fielding, and the latter’s inability to produce big innings. Don’t read too much into a double-century in the Irani Trophy.

To stay on the horizon - for, in Yuvraj, Murali Vijay, Rohit Sharma and Virat Kohli, there are a few contenders – Pujara needs to keep the runs flowing. That should come pretty easy to him.

Memories

2010-10-11T17:41:00.004+05:30

Samir Chopra’s nostalgic blog on Cricinfo recently, about following cricket as an ex-pat, got me reminiscing about my own sojourns with the internet and cricket on foreign shores.

Most of my time while studying at the College of Wooster was spent following and playing cricket, in that order. Studies took a back seat but over six years on, I have no regrets. I'm doing what I want to do.

Having waded through a sea of memories – staying up all night to iron on logos to white jerseys, getting up at dawn to roll out the mat, taking a stinging catch to my left at slip, hitting a straight six, to name a few – I focused on the many nights and mornings, depending on where India were playing, in which I had logged on to the internet to follow the ball-by-ball scores. I have not included memories of watching cricket on the internet or on satellite, though those would have made for some great stories, considering they frequently involved inter-state trips in my trusted Olsmobile Cutlass Ciera.

Maybe I can relive those memories another time.

My first memory of ball-by-ball commentary is not as a student in the USA, but rather in high school in the foothill of the Himalayas. It was 1998, and the internet had taken its sweet time to come to Woodstock. Dick Wechter, the computer lab monitor in the high school library, was kind enough to allow us cricket freaks to pop in to check on the scores during breaks. It was he who suggested we try this website called cricinfo.com, where we could follow the score ball by ball. Needless to say, given the absence of television and radio, we were fascinated.

It took some getting used to, this pattern of watching the screen refresh and the batsmen’s score tick over, his name highlighted in red followed by a sequence of dots, digits and random letters denoting extras, boundaries or wickets. But it was a new experience and one we eagerly savored. I still remember waiting impatiently for the page to refresh – and mind you, we had a slow connection those days – so that Sadagoppan Ramesh could get to his maiden Test century. A couple of us cheered when it finally did and Ramesh’s digits changed from 99 to 100.

Thus began my relationship with Cricinfo’s ball-by-ball commentary. Years later I would go on to type out many, many games on Cricinfo’s CMS, but at that time I had no inkling of what my future held.

Cut to the Wooster campus. It was late at night and my roommate Ankit was trying to sleep ahead of a big Biology exam. But India are playing Australia in the ICC Knock-out in Nairobi and I have to keep abreast. A fellow cricket enthusiast, Ehtesham, comes to inquire the score and I make him sit with me for the entire night. Yuvraj Singh, in his first international innings, plays a blinder of an innings that deflates the mighty Australians. We never saw a ball of that match on the net or on video since, but almost every shot of Yuvraj’s innings of 84 is in my mind. As he galloped to his half-century from 46 balls, Ehtesham and I sat transfixed on the screen of my clunky PC. Yuvraj square-drove, we purred. He flicked off the toes over midwicket, we shook our heads. When he put Glenn McGrath away between cover and point, I rushed to shake Ankit from his sleep. When India won, and the night began to fade away into dawn, Ankit was on his feet in celebratory jig. Biology be damned.

There were many other memories of following live scores on the internet. Andy Caddick’s demolition over against West Indies at Leeds; India’s famous chase of 326 in the Natwest final at Lord’s, when I was the only one left to sit in a room on campus during the summer of 2002, because at 87 for 5 the game seemed over; Mohammad Kaif’s century in his very next match, against Zimbabwe in the Champions Trophy; Mervyn Dillon’s last-over brainfreeze against South Africa in the same tournament, and the words of Cricinfo’s Travis Basevi – “Dillon, you idiot!”; Nathan Astle’s stunning assault on England in Christchurch; South Africa’s tour of England in the summer of 2003; Daniel Vettori’s maiden Test century, against Pakistan in Hamilton; Mohammad Ashraful’s giant-slaying Cardiff century; India’s implosion in the final of the TVS Cup; Tendulkar’s 141 in a lost cause in Rawalpindi. There are so many memories, and I can recall exactly where I sat and how I reacted during each match. The cups of coffee drank, the pizzas eaten, the jokes shared, the abuses given, the shots shadow-practiced in the middle of the night, the morning classes skipped because Dravid was batting in the eighties, and the excuses given for being late to work.

Like they did so many times on my PC screen, these magical moments will forever refresh themselves in my mind.

2010-04-21T21:57:00.002+05:30

In a week that's resembled the midpoint of the French Revolution, it's easy to feel depressed if you're a true cricket fan. Two Twitter-obsessed men with power at loggerheads, the BCCI at war with its own, wherever you look it's madness, not to mention an overload of DLF Maximums and Citi Moments of Success. It's frustrating and it's sickening. There's a storm swarming around the IPL, and it's making international headlines. When did cricket come to this?

What happened to the days when it was a contest between bat and ball, and the only men whose opinions mattered were the captains? Why do 'sweat' equities and the nitty gritty about a consortium grab more headlines than a Test match? It's at times like these that the fan inside me looks back to better days, to times when I was drawn to the game for real reasons.

When I first picked up a bat and looked up at the bowler running in with a tennis ball. When I first cracked a proper shot. When I was first dropped. When I first took a catch. When I first heard a game relayed over a crackling radio. When I first heard Richie Benaud. When I first saw Warne bowl. When I first went to a Ranji Trophy game. When I ran five kilometers to reach a town shut down due to curfew and banged on the shutters of an electronic store to watch India play Pakistan. When I woke up a friend at 3am to tell him Sourav had won the toss. When I sat and discussed Tendulkar's batting with friends.

When I sipped tea and talked cricket as over the radio Zaheer yorked Steve Waugh. When I sat and watched India struggle against Holland. When I ran from my dorm in the winter to a friend's room after he called me to tell me India were batting. When I square-drove in my room as on the radio I heard Yuvraj do the same to McGrath. When I woke up my room-mate who had an exam in a couple hours and got him to dance in celebration of India’s win. When I logged onto the Internet to check the score of the match between Kwazulu-Natal and the Nicky Oppenheimer XI. When I sat and watched my Internet connection come and go as West Indies steamrolled India.

When I drove cross-country laughing with friends and listening to Springsteen after a loss to a rival university. When I woke at dawn and put out a mat before a match. When I sat and watched the rain play spoilsport two hours later. When I took two catches at slip in the same match. When I watched Akram square up Arnold four times in a row and then clap for him when he got bat on ball. When I rooted for Tikolo even as Kenya were dismissed for less than 200. When I called my boss and said I couldn’t come into work because Dravid and Laxman were batting. When I won my first match as captain and picked up the kit bag. When a friend and I stepped out for coffee at an ungodly hour of the night and returned to see India had lost two more wickets. When I sat with friends and relived a match. When I argued with a friend about who was better, Tendulkar or Lara.

That was cricket, and that was life. What first drew you to cricket? This may be the time to remember.

2010-04-04T16:38:00.000+05:30

Flipping between Andaz Apna Apna and Ghayal on a lazy Sunday afternoon. Imagine, the same guy made those two films. Did Santoshi get his due? Forget Family: Ties of Blood and Halla Bol and Lajja, those were aberrations. He knew what the masses want, similar to how the late Mukul Anand did before he died. I just hope the rumors about an AAA remake with Ranbir and Imran aren't true.

2010-03-13T09:56:00.002+05:30

Word is that SRK wasn't going to show his face at the ground until KKR won. Thanks for winning your first game, guys. Now we've had it.

2010-03-10T08:06:00.000+05:30

Off to cover The Circus today. Bangalore-Delhi, Delhi-Mohali, Mohali-Delhi, Delhi-Mohali,Delhi-Bangalore. Cringe at the thought of how many DLF Maximum sixes and Citi Moments of Success we're all going to be inundated with for the next six weeks. Imagine the folks in Dharamshala. Lovely little ground, sleepy little town, quaint scenery, and against the backdrop of that awesome mountain range you'll have Samir Khochar, Angad Bedi and Ayushmann flashing their enamel while Ravi Shastri bursts a few hundred more blood vessels asking - nay, demanding - downtown Dharamshala whether they're ready for the toss. Those poor monks. It's enough to force even the most tranquil ascetic pick up his robes and make for the plains. Ah, the bedlam in Goliath. More updates from the road.

2010-03-09T17:56:00.000+05:30

We're trained to differentiate between wants and needs, good and bad, right and wrong, necessity and frivolity. But what happens when the fundamental ability to understand what's good for you and bringing you down deteriorates? That's when you haul ass, brother.

2010-03-07T13:09:00.001+05:30

"Arre beta, tumhare pant toh thode chote ho gaye hain ..."

"Aunty, mein chaar saal ka hoon aur mere pant teen saal ke."

Yes ma'am, I was witty at a very young age.

2010-03-03T23:45:00.000+05:30

Kishore, Mukesh, Hemant, Rafi, Manna Dey ... good companions this evening. Aaj Mausam Bada Beimaan Hai. Khoya Khoya Chaand. Mere Mehboob Qayamat Hogi. Yeh Mera Deewanapan Hai. Yaad Kiya Dil Ne. Main Zindagi Ka Saath. Now if someone can just do that bloody RBS Cup wrap.

2010-02-28T17:49:00.000+05:30

You're a lover, I'm a lover
you are willing, I am willing
then who are mummy or daddy?
its only you who is capable of love
the entire society is useless

you need a friend like me
i need a friend like you
those who burn, burn them more, dance dance dance

what happens when two of us meet has happened
I in you and you got lost in me
seeing you I too melt, like light melts

2010-02-24T20:46:00.001+05:30

JP Duminy has got another first-ball duck. It's never easy walking to the middle with your side five down for just over 100 chasing 402, but Duminy's identical dismissal as during the Eden Gardens Test last week begs the question: is he really that good?

His first couple Test innings were undoubtedly crucial contributions, and they got Ian Chappell purring about Duminy being a future great. Sure his debut Test innings was a nerveless gem and his follow-up century in the next game a match-turning knock, but if you look closer to that ton at the MCG you'll notice that the Australians didn't attack him and were more content to let Dale Steyn at the other a lot of time at the crease. Brett Lee only bowled 12 balls to Duminy; the combined threat of Hussey, Clarke and Symonds bowled over 20% of the balls Duminy faced. There were loads of runs to be had to fine leg and third man. And, most keenly overlooked by those eager to praise Duminy, was the fact that he was nowhere near a quality spinner. With all due respect to Nathan Hauritz, in December 2008 he was nowhere near the Test bowler he is in February 2010, and even his current avatar is hardly world class.

Graeme Swann gave him a working over in the four Tests at home - to the extend that he was labeled Swann's bunny - and Duminy was Harbhajan's to be had in the two Tests in India. He resembled a walking wicket, unsure about his footwork to spin, the bat coming down late and often feeling for the ball, unsure of whether it would turn or not. Its very evident that he cannot play good spinners. In specific, offspinners.

Let's get down to the cold stats: Duminy has scored 73 runs in his last nine Test innings (an average of 8.11) and, out of his 20 Test innings, he been out before reaching 20 on 14 occasions. His career Test average has fallen from 49 to a paltry 29. South Africa's management have put up the 'form is temporary, class is permanent' statement outside their doors for a few months. They may need to do a whole lot more soon.

It's easy to say he is suffering from a crisis of confidence, but at this stage it appears he has been found out by bowlers at the highest level. This could be more than just a sizeable blip after a phenomenally successful first season at the top.

Sophomore albums are a bitch. Just ask Tracy Chapman. But Chapman took time off, slowed down the rate of production, and came back with a hit album in 1995. Duminy too has cruelly realized that following up and living up to hype isn't easy. He can start, with some help from South Africa's selectors, by being given time off to sort out those technical flaws.

2010-02-24T18:19:00.000+05:30

"Langeveldt to Tendulkar, 1 run, 137.6 kph, single to reach the first double-hundred in ODIs, streered behind point, takes off his helmet and waves to the crowd, which is on its feet, so are his team-mates in the dressing room, a fan's blowing a conch, Tendulkar's soaking all the adulation and after a brief moment, gets back to his crease to face the next delivery"

Forget the typo; those could be the most read words written so far this decade.

Sachin Tendulkar, 36 years and 306 days old, went became the first man to cross the 200-run barrier in ODIs. Salaam.

2010-02-21T09:48:00.000+05:30

It is fundamentally human to want to socialize and stay connected to other people. But the internet’s greatest achievement is not the ability to connect or educate or allow business to effectively advertise and market their products or services. No, it is the massive platform it has provided, with the security blanket of anonymity, for people to bash each other. As the pace of the wired revolution continues to expand, showing every sign of tightening its grip on the way we communicate and consume,it is not hard to see how pessimism and trivial-mindedness have become the edifying currency of our generation. Look around you. These two features drive page views, sell magazines, and give people the opportunity to deride and degrade and insult others and their own without worrying about direct retribution. Look at that ugly phenomenon called the “comment” box, whose allure allows posters to say what they could never dare say to another’s face. Shockingly, online content is now responsible for almost one in five complaints about racial vilification. Why are we all competing to bring each other down?

2010-02-19T18:23:00.000+05:30

They meet almost each evening like true and old friends do. They don't talk a lot, but what they talk about is good. They shut out the faff of the outside world. There's a mutual appreciation of each other. They are my friends too, Mr Monk and soda.

2010-02-17T17:42:00.000+05:30

Random Films I Liked: Its time Toby Maguire burns that damned Spiderman suit. His role in Jim Sheridan's Brothers - the first war movie I enjoyed in a while, mostly because it showed the aftereffects of war - is by far his best role. Well supported by the dependable Natalie Portman and Jake Gyllenhal, Maguire gives Brothers its soul and by that I mean he pumps everything he's got into it without hardly uttering a word for the second half of the film. His traumatized veteran, haunted eyes and hollow cheeks et al, chillingly captures the horror he's been through. How his inner demons simmer to the top - now that is a superb scene at the dinner table - and then lurch out - I'm not telling - makes for compelling viewing.

The film, directed by the man who gave us gems like My Left Foot, In the Name of the Father, The Boxer and In America, is a remake of a Danish film. It has a good script, great acting - you can't really go wrong with Sam Shepard, and the kid who plays the elder sister is very good - and hits the right level of emotion. Gyllenhal, no stranger to war movies, gets to do all the battling away from the killing fields, as he gets out of another stint in jail and returns to a home where his father does not conceal his disdain for him. But mostly see it for Maguire, who shows you how you don't need words to express pain.

2010-02-16T10:29:00.001+05:30

My trusted pair of dark blue Old Navy chappals passed away over the weekend. I’d had them since the summer of 2003, borrowed in a moment of desperation from Anshuman Bagharia and never returned. They were good to me. They got me through that I.S. summer, through many house shifts and job searches, from Ohio to Boston to Bombay, Bangalore, London and Colombo. They ran from Armington to Kauke Hall and Gault Library, strolled down Beacon Street and Comm Ave, creaked under the weight of lifting cartons while unpacking in Shrewsbury and Brookline, and in their latter years, though battered and thinning, stood their ground when the Bangalore monsoons lashed across my balcony. They were the oldest piece of footwear I've owned. Thanks for all the memories. RIP.Be good up there in chappal heaven.

2010-02-06T20:07:00.005+05:30

Yusuf Pathan after his superb centuries in the Duleep final.

2010-02-02T19:45:00.003+05:30

Groundhog Day. February 2. Stirred some nostalgic memories of Punxsutawney, PA. Sleepy little town town not too far from the Ohio border. Got my first car from there, a 1994 Oldsmobile Cutlass Ciera. ECT 4072. What memories, Shabbo. Yearly drives to Punxy for the vehicle registration. Remember the first time I drove into town, and realized this was the Groundhog Day place. Saw the big statue of Punxsutawney Phil in the town square. The little gas station store waiting for the work on the car to be done. Columbian coffee. Hot dogs. Chilling with Kirtiman in the meantime. The Beatles and Springsteen and Pink Floyd on the radio. Freezing cold mornings. Speedway replenishment. Dozing off behind the wheel. Good times, good memories. RIP, Shabbo.

2010-02-01T19:31:00.001+05:30

Here for public consumption is my definitive play list for long drives, doing absolutely nothing and/or dozing off at night. Strongly suggested. Good results guaranteed. Happy downloading.

1. All My Days - Alexi Murdoch
2. Whatever It Is - Ben Lee
3. World Spins Madly On - The Weepies
4. Speed of Sound - Chris Bell
5. Chicago - Sufjan Stevens
6. One of These Things First - Nick Drake
7. When You Notice the Stripes - The Shins
8. My Winding Wheel - Ryan Adams
9. You Belong To Me - The 88
10. Spit On A Stranger - Pavement
11. Nine Words - Oppenheimer
12. Save It For A Rainy Day - The Jayhawks
13. Eastern Glow - The Album Leaf
14. Dice - Finley Quaye
15. Little Round Mirrors - Harvey Danger
16. Carry Me Ohio - Sun Kil Moon
17. Metropol 47 - Mark Kozelek

2010-01-30T20:00:00.002+05:30

This Bangalore winter is definitely underrated. It's the end of January and there are no more blankets, the fan is on full, the walk to work has become a pain. Each winter I've been here over the past three years has decreased in pleasantry. What gives?

2010-01-29T06:02:00.003+05:30

you're not a man till you sing Barbie Girl duet at karaoke ...

2010-01-22T23:09:00.000+05:30

Another entry in the Random Films I Liked section: Sam Mendes' Away We Go. I've liked Mendes' work, especially the brilliant and under-rated Road To Perdition, and watched this movie a couple days after seeing Mendis' claustrophobic and overly grim Revolutionary Road. It was like nothing Mendis has directed and was just the right movie for an afternoon's entertainment. Do not go into this movie expecting a Mendes masterpiece, because it is not. Nobody dies and nobody is out there to wow you with their acting chops. This is one Mendes film which is not going to attract votes at award ceremonies, and in a refreshing way that makes Away We Go easy to watch.

Simple premise: thirty-something American couple, a white male and mixed-race pregnant woman, set out to find their uniquely own place to raise their first child. Could be a recipe for disaster, but it's not because of Mendes' handling of the subject and the acting of the leads. Is it predictable? Yes. Is it heavy? No.

It's essentially a road movie with very good acting - The Office's John Krasinski keeps getting better while for Maya Rudolph, see of SNL fame, this was a breakthrough role - and exudes a warmth that not a lot of films do not these days. The script follows the road movie them by carrying the viewer from city to city, character to zany character, problem to problem, and is not pretentious, which it so easily could have been.

There's nothing gimmicky about the film, which you expect from Mendes. It seemed like a massive release for a man of his caliber, especially after Revolutionary Road and Jarhead, and it was a cohesive movie. The humor is intelligent and quirky, the acting very good.

I did, however, feel that the characters who cropped up needed to be fished out more, for at times you got attracted to them through their flaws only to see them fade away into the background, leaving you wondering if they weren't just cardboard cut-outs. A few even seemed familiar, not on a personal level, but in that I couldn't but feel I'd seen such people in movies before. In way they are all exaggerated stereotypes of American families, but Krasinski, Rudolph, the awesome soundtrack, composed by Alexi Murdoch, the locales captured exceptionally by Ellen Kuras, and the tone of them film more than make up for that flaw.

2010-01-17T17:08:00.000+05:30

"Ordinarily", India would have had Bangladesh eight down at stumps. But "extraordinarily", its India in that position. Sehwag, cat got your tongue?

2010-01-13T00:00:00.000+05:30

Three young boys, not more than 11 or 12, started walking with me as I approached MG Road on a lazy Sunday afternoon.

"Hallo man, you which country?"

"Heard of USA?"

"Ya, ya, USA!"

"Heard of England?"

"England, yes! London!"

"Yes, I am from in between these two countries. It's called Chinchpokli."

Puzzled faces. Furrowed brows. Exchanged looks. We keep walking.

"Chinchpokli? Where is Chinchpokli?"

"In the middle of USA and England."

It doesn't register.

"Where you going?"

"To office."

"Office. On Sunday?"

"Yes, my life is sad."

"You know Garuda Mall?"

"Yes. My office is near there."

"OK, we going Garuda Mall."

"OK."

"You know Brazil?"

"Yes."

"Brazil. Ronaldo. Ronaldinho."

"Yes, and Chucky Cheese."

"What?"

"Nothing."

"What language you speak?"

"English."

"You speak only English?"

"Little French."

Guffaws all around. "Say something in French man!"

"Quel âge ont-ils?"

Seriously loud guffawing.

"You know Tamil?"

"Illa."

Mad laughing. "Good, good! You speak Kannada?"

"No. Hindi."

More chuckling. "You know Rajnikant?"

"Yes, we went to school together."

Shocked expressions. Then more laughter.

"OK bye, friend. Nice to meeting you."

Handshakes all around and off they went.

Just another day in my life walking around Bangalore.

2010-01-08T20:38:00.000+05:30

There is a reason I didn't want to take hummus and baked goods with me to Bangalore, and the main reason was security at the Bombay airport.

I pick up my backpack and reach for the bag of goodies, when the lady sitting there stops me. She asks me if this is mine, and I say yes. She signals to the fatso behind the screening machine. He doesn't even acknowledge me and tells her in Hindi to ask me to open the bag. I look down at the bag and see the bottom has fallen through. I tell the lady that she's welcome to look through the bag through both ends. She has no sense of humor. I take out the contents - hummus, banana bread, and two kinds of other breads for the hummus - and lay them out for all to see.

The woman draws a blank. Then she turns to fatso and says have a look. He raises his eyebrows at another standing cop and indicates to take over the situation. I bet this is a serious Code Orange. So this twit walks over and asks the woman what the problem is. She says the liquid content is the concern. I wonder what is liquid in the bag. She points disdainfully to the hummus. Fatso takes his gaze away from the scanner and says that has liquid in it. I say no it doesn't.

The other guy asks me what it is. I say hummus. I may as well have said LAKOUKARACHA five times in hurry. I say its a chutney. He turns to fatso and says its a chutney. What kind, I'm asked. I pause. I say its eaten with bread. He asks the ingredients. Now I draw a blank. Chick peas and yogurt and spices, I say.

Eat it, says fatso. Should I dip some bread in it too, I ask. He doesn't appreciate my humor. Sure, if you'd like to, he says. I dip the middle finger of my left hand into it and taste it. Pretty good, I tell fatso and his cronies.

Fatso starts mumbling something about people sticking unsafe objects in food and smuggling them on board. Save it, I tell him, and start stuffing the food back into the broken bag. Fatso is still mumbling as I cradle the damaged goods and set off to Cafe Coffee Day to see if they have a plastic bag.

Bah hummus!

2010-01-07T11:03:00.000+05:30

No place in this country like Bombay. Loving being back for this brief visit.

Random conversation at Prescious near where Warden Road meets Kemps Corner, where I've been getting my hair cut since I was a kid. Rang de Basanti on cable, proprietor and his friend are watching on a jobless afternoon. That said, I have never seen the boss do anything else apart from sit there, talk, and read film magazines.

Proprietor (P): "Is film mein lambe baal bahut chala."
Friend (F): "Sahi bola."
P: "Pan North mein aisa bal chalta hai na, mast."
F: "Barobar."
P: "Arre Aamir Khan jo bhi style dalenga, who fashion ho jaata hai, bhai."
F: "Haan re, sahi mein."
P: "Yeh bhi achcha actor hai ... Atul Kulkarni".
F: "Bahut achcha hai. Yeh bhi sahi hai .. kaun hai woh South ka hero?"
P: "Siddharth, Siddharth ..."
F: "Haan, Siddharth. Achcha role mila usko. Aur yeh bhi achcha hai, Joshi ..."
P: "Sharman Joshi. Haan, woh toh hamesha achcha kaam karta hai. 3 Idiots mein bhi he was good. Uska pehla film dekha? N Chandra ka Style. Udhar se comedy shuru kiya ..."
F: "Haan, lekin acting achcha hai uska."
P: "Haan, hai. Aur yeh ... Kunal Kapoor ... yeh bhi OK hai ..."
F: "Naa, yeh overacting karta hai ... achcha abhi dekh, abhi yeh log Kakori ka train lootenge ..."

And so the conversation continued. Bindaas. I love it.

2010-01-05T10:52:00.002+05:30

A very good http://www.cricinfo.com/decadereview2009/content/story/439734.html piece on the decade we are heading into, in terms of where cricket stands ...

2010-01-01T16:37:00.001+05:30

And so another year has passed, and a new decade is upon us. No resolutions.

First accomplishment of the year was getting the Ishqiya soundtrack, and it was a nice way to start of 2010. Good stuff on the whole, as expected from Vishal Bhardwaj, but I got you there with Dil Toh Bachcha Hai, sir. Direct lift from Memory.

Ibn Battuta could be the new Dhan Te Nan.

2009-12-31T15:46:00.001+05:30

What have these three idiots done?

2009-12-29T18:14:00.001+05:30

He let the world spin madly on.

The old man squatted alone, on the small, grassy bank between the murky green water and the dirt path for walkers, joggers and cyclists. His knees, thin and bony, were hunched nearly up to his chin. His back was thin, his ragged shirt clinging to it against the gentle evening Bangalore breeze. He looked out at the lake in front, ugly and polluted and hollow. All he got back was the stale stench of waste. His boat, old and creaky and alone like him, swayed slightly on the tip of the embankment.

He let the world spin madly on.

Not ten feet to his left, a group of young vagrants tugged at another boat. A few threw crude fishing lines into the water. Empty, eroded plastic bottles hovered half submerged not too far away. Behind the man, a college couple fought about adolescent feelings. Two men, their bellies sagging over their belts, strolled by talking business. Two middle-aged women walked, in salwar-kameez and sweaters, walked briskly past. A young cyclist struggled to peddle with the weight of another kid riding pillion. Another couple sat near a row of bushes, their heads buried in each others arms. Behind the grilled fence, a girl on a scooter was swapping phone numbers with a boy on a cycle. Behind them, life passed by in a blur of vehicles.

He let the world spin madly on.

2009-12-28T21:46:00.001+05:30

Christmas came and went. Didn't even feel it. Worked till 10pm. Three days later, after a massive lovely Mallu lunch - pork, mutton, rice, bread, kachimur, veggies, plum cake - and just being welcomed at a house I'd never been to, and sitting around with people I had never met except for two, brought back memories of my youth. The days of getting up at the crack of dawn to see how many presents were under the tree, and whether Santa had drank the milk and cookies. The stockings with peanuts, Snickers, Cadbury's, Reeses, bubblegum and an orange in them. Hot cocoa by the tree. The nativity set on the mantelpiece. Christmas cards. That massive brunch. Family. Christmas carols. Snow.

2009-12-27T13:51:00.000+05:30

Stand out in the crowd? Tired of being stared at while sitting in an autorick at a stop light, walking to buy groceries, or at a train station? No? Well I didn't think so, but in case there are a few of you out there who do, let me introduce my three-step program to repel the gawkers who gape - and occasionally giggle - at you like you've sprouted green antlers right in front of them in the 56 seconds it takes for the light to change red to green. These may seem like drastic measures more likely to attract further intense scrutiny but they actually work in getting people to turn away and even look quite flustered. Then you sit back and marvel at your own handiwork.

Here goes:

1) Stare at said person(s)' shoes or sandles and then slowly make a face of disgust, like you've just noticed they've stepped in a pile of dung and its clung to the soles of their feet and attracted a swarm of flies. Keep staring, never for a moment looking at the person.

2) Do your best Ace Ventura impersonation. I mean wonky eyebrows, scrunched nose, crossed eyes and doofus, contorted grin. It normally surprises the hell out of onlookers and causes them to look away at something else, lest you suddenly start liking your own palms and make monkey noises. If they choose to slowly turn back for a peak, make Jim Carey proud. Full throttle.

3) Wink at them. It almost always throws them off guard and leaves them embarrassed, looking around to see if anybody noticed. Pure gem, I tell you. But this one requires some tact so pick your opponents, and make sure you have enough time to scoot in case they happen to reciprocate, should this be their thing. Be especially aware of your surroundings at traffic signals.

No animals were harmed in the making of this free public service announcement.

Ten best Hindi films of the decade

2009-12-25T23:54:00.002+05:30

I’ve spend a lot of time these past couple weeks reading and working on various moments in cricket that stood out over this past decade, and while doing so I got to thinking about the more memorable Hindi films I’ve seen since 2000. So here, in order of their release, is my list.

Lagaan: It fell short of being a masterpiece, but Lagaan skillfully combined good acting, direction, writing, music and cinematography. The result was an entertaining, if slightly clichéd, film of gigantic proportions which ushered in the use of synch sound in Indian cinema. Not having to dub the extensive outdoor scenes, erected on a set in rural Gujarat, gave the film a crisp quality that was so crucial to its intricate details. It also helped change the way films were made – with Dil Chahta Hai just around the corner as well – in terms of technology and professionalism in the Indian industry.

Aamir Khan was, as most always, superb and gave the film its soul. Ashutosh Gowarikar, after duds like Baazi and Pehla Nasha, had pitched the idea to Aamir earlier but was snubbed. He made some changes and went back to Aamir. Success! It was just the pair required to get such a film off its feet. The film was marketed very well – until the date of its release the public was uncertain as to what this magnum opus was about – and it got the global audience’s attention. It was never good enough to win an Oscar, but Lagaan made the viewers clamber to the theatres to watch a clean, excellently made film that ultimately trumped because it had the soul necessary for a hit – a tight script. Simple though it was - the poor rebel against the suppressors and come up trumps - it was Aamir's role and his hand in the production that set Lagaan apart. Bhuvan was believable, even when he hit that last-ball six.

Dil Chahta Hai: In my mind, the summer of 2001 was Aamir's finest. The season opened with Lagaan and not two months later, Aamir was the gregarious, flirtatious, non-believer Akash in Farhan Akhtar's debut film Dil Chahta Hai. An incomprehensible about-turn from Lagaan's Bhuvan. Two films from different worlds, with different budgets, casts, but what they had in common were high production values, superb direction, great music, and Aamir. The film marked the debut of a skilled and thorough technician in Akhtar, and he carried on his work in each of his films this decade, though none was as good as this. He showed his masterful touch in many scenes; some that stand out are when the three friends are talking about their economics teacher, when they sit in the club and Aamir starts to impress Preity Zinta, when Akshaye Khanna realizes he likes the older woman, when Saif Ali Khan first meets his first ‘true love’, when Aamir realizes he loves Preity in the Sydney opera house and the following when he drops her home just after, and is caught between the old Akash and the new. It was a film India’s new and urban youth could identify with and was truly a trendsetter.

Maqbool: The Bard has been translated, morphed, copied and butchered in Hind cinema for years, but in January 2004 his work was given it best, purest and surprisingly easiest transformation into Indian theaters. If you hadn’t heard of Vishal Bhardwaj, he of the lilting OST of Maachis and the well crafted Makdee, you were sure made to sit up. Bhardwaj lined up a terrific star cast - Naseeruddin Shah, Om Puri, Irrfan Khan, Tabu and Pankaj Kapur – and threw Macbeth into the underworld of Bombay. On the outside it perhaps seemed like a repetitive scenario, after a slew of gangster movies out of the Ram Gopal Verma factory, but Maqbool was very different. It had superb acting and good music, but its strongest point was the narrative. The film boasted a number of dazzling sequences that stuck with you – the scene in which Irfan, in his piece de resistance, looks down a dark corridor and sees the ghosts of people close and far is one of the most haunting ever – and Bharwaj handled his plot with utmost precision without ever compromising on his belief.

Yuva: Six years after he gave us the misunderstood, ahead-of-its times Dil Se, Chennai’s own Martin Scorsese made Yuva. The film, borrowing from Amores Perros, interwove the stories of three men in Calcutta and connected them via a road accident. The background of the film, shot superbly by the ever reliable Ravi K Chandran in the City of Joy, was set against politics in college. The cast was superb, with Abhishek Bachchan delivering a breakout performance and Ajay Devgan backing him up with another determined effort. Vivek Oberoi continued to impress, Kareena Kapoor shone in a brief but also career-boosting performance, and Rani Mukherjee confirmed that she was a real talent. Technically very sound, Yuva was a pulsing, story-bound film that resonated with the age-old angst that people develop when torn between the mind and the heart. With shades of existentialism and escapism in almost equal measure, the film was a cinematic masterpiece that somehow got misinterpreted and underestimated. In a year during which candy floss fair like Veer Zaara and Mujhse Shaadi Karoge drew audiences into the cinemas, Yuva fell by the wayside commercially. But its content, acting and gritty edge left a strong resonance

Swades: This film was unfair compared to Lagaan. Lagaan was made to entertain, Swades was Gowarikar’s attempt to explore interior, rural India and the problems besetting the country. It was told through the eyes of an NRI, Mohan Bhargava, which was played with utmost dedication by Shah Rukh Khan. Watching Mohan take a break from his plush NASA job and journey back to India, first in Delhi and then to the fictional town of Charanpur where he meets his childhood nanny and an assortment of characters, was endearing. It was Shah Rukh’s best role, and you didn’t feel he was SRK in the movie.

On a wider canvas, Swades tackled the issue facing Indian citizens at the grassroots level. When Mohan returns home, he isn’t aware of the hardships villagers face, the lack of basic amenities and such. What he intended to be a simple task, prompted by nostalgia and fondness, turns into a literal and metaphorical journey of exploration. How Mohan’s views change forms the crux of the story. Simply put, the film was about reality and reaction. Audiences found it preachy, but I think they misinterpreted Gowarikar’s vision of the central protagonist. He wasn’t preaching about the need for NRIs so come home and change India. He was just telling one man’s story.

Bunty aur Babli: “Yeh jo world hai na …iss mein do tarah ke log hain … It was a throwback to the masala films of the 70s and 80s. A simple premise with good treatment and great acting. A couple on the run and a hounding police officer. Nothing serious or realistic here. Just solid screen presence and direction, great lyrics and foot-tapping music. Don’t go looking for logic, just enjoy the ride. Colourful characters casually going about conning all before them. It worked well.

Abhishek Bachchan and Rani Mukherjee proved yet again that their screen chemistry was the best of the decade. From the sleepy by lanes of Fursatganj and Pankhinagar, to Kanpur to Lucknow to Delhi and Bombay, the tale of two starry-eyed individuals was pure fun. Some of the cons were predictable, but most were refreshingly original and really well depicted. Lyricist Gulzar and director Shaad Ali Sahgal again proved a great combo. Watch for the subtle homage to potboilers from Ramesh Shippy and Manmohan Desai. Yes, there was a bit of Bonnie & Clyde and Catch Me If You Can, but whose being picky with this film? Notice the scenes where Babli grooves with Q .. Q .. Qureshi to the tunes of Ramba Ho, or when the pair sells off the Taj Mahal for five years. Sheer genius. And then there was Kajra Re.

Rang De Basanti: Aamir more than made up for that indiscretion that was The Rising of Mangal Pandey with Rang De Basanti, a film that pricked the conscience and challenged the viewer to think outside of the box. Best of all, he didn't entirely hog the film, and the ending, critically, was not all about him. He had a deft director, Rakeysh Omprakash Mehra, who was thankfully allowed to be the boss and weave his craft as he had invisioned it.

Far from your run-of-the-mill Indian movie, RDB successfully weaved historical facts with contemporary themes. While I do not agree entirely with the film, I think it was a landmark film in Indian cinema's history. It was a sincere attempt at making a pivotal, social point, and it does what few Indian films in recent times have done - make you pick a side.

Omkara: The best film of 2006. From the opening scene - which captures the rugged Indian landscape in a way not seen since Sholay, or to a lesser level Bandit Queen - between Saif Ali Khan and Deepak Dobriyal to the final in which only Viveik Oberoi remains standing, the film is first-rate. In a year of Kabhi Alvida Naa Kehna and a long list of Juhu-born, London-fed yuppie directors churning out candyfloss to no end, Omkara was poignant, no-nonsense cinema. In cricketing parlance, Vishal Bhardwaj’s masterpiece Maqbool was a one-dayer, and Omkara a fullblown Test match. Here, Vishal proved without a shred of doubt that he is a fine storyteller and great director. He handled an amazing starcast with ease and got the best out of each. Ajay Devgan excels in the title role, one that he was born to play, Karishma Kapoor delivers a break-out performance, Konkana Sen Sharma rises above her role, Vivek Oberoi and Bipasha Basu were, thankfully, taught to hold themselves back, Deepak Dobriyal was given a sensational debut, and Saif...well, Saif given the role of a lifetime.

Jab We Met: The year 2007 ended with a gem of a movie. On the outset it was an age-old tale of love, but what made it special was the treatment of director Imtiaz Ali and the lead couple. Jab We Met was a refreshing take on the genre. It wasn’t heavy, there wasn’t a major spanner thrown in the works courtesy a conniving ex or rage-fueled father, and there weren’t any jarring scenes. Where the reel-life chemistry of Shahid Kapur and Kareena Kapoor crackled and gave the movie its pizzazz, their real-life relationship went kapur. But thank god the movie was shot when they were an item, because the pair were superb. Kareena, in the role she was born to play, wooed hearts and made you giggle sloppily in the aisles. Shahid, until now reduced to playing mostly immature parts in larger ensembles, was handed a meaty role and he sunk his teeth into it. With Pritam’s music topping the charts, this one was a winner all the way. And, of course, the unforgettable dialogues. Come on, seriously, if you’ve seen the film you know what I’m talking about. Sample 1: “Kya boss, chakkar kya hai? Drugs-shugs leeya hai?”. Sample 2: “Ab toh mera haat chodh do, itni bhi sundar nahin hoon main!” Sample 3: “Tumhe museum mein hona chahiye, ticket lagne chahiye tumhe dekhne ke liye!” Sample 4: “Kyun dekhoon mai ganne ke khet?” Classic dialogues, memorable characters.

Taare Zameen Par: Aamir the director trumped Aamir the actor by some distance. He' had been handed a fine script - credit goes to Amol Gupte here - and he handled it so magically. It wasn’t without stereotype - the staff at the boarding school are dripping in clichés and the father broke into hives at the drop of a hat - but Aamir's shepherding of young Darsheel Safary and the camera was superb. He showed he can narrate a story very, very well and does so without any glam, thankfully. It was a touching movie; expertly handled it did plenty to make people aware of children with dyslexia.

Darsheel Safary was wonderful. TZP was about him, not Aamir, thankfully, and he did full justice to the role. Hindi movies have never had good child actors - the girl in Black was exceptional - but Safary has set the benchmark brilliantly.

Some other films of the decade that can watch repeatedly: Ab Tak Chappan , Yahaan, Khosla Ka Ghosla, The Blue Umbrella, Rock On, Jhoom Barabar Jhoom, Company, Oye Lucky! Lucky Oye! Ek Chalis Ki Last Local, Hazaaron Khwahishein Aisi..

2009-12-24T13:48:00.000+05:30

Email from HR department to all staff yesterday: "You are all invited to a special lunch from Adigas tomorrow at 1 pm to celebrate the merry spirit of Christmas."

For the uninitiated, Adigas is a chain of oily, canteen-style, cardiac arrest-inducing purely vegetarian chain of restaurants popular in Bangalore, reasons for which some very portly South Indian deity suffering from high cholesterol would only know. It is so bad that some of my south Indian colleagues crib about it. A couple even staunchly claim they have had better dosas and vadas IN NORTH INDIA. Heavens to Betsy.

Seriously, if you picked up one of those saada dosas and wrung it out,you would get a bucket full of oil more than enough to jump-start a Tata Nano.

Really Christmasy, if you know what I mean. So yeah, sufficed to say I skipped that totally festive Christmas lunch and ordered Chinese.

2009-12-23T18:00:00.001+05:30

I remember seeing my dad on TV when I was about five. I remember waiting for him to come home that day. As soon as he opened the door I ran up, excited, and blurted out: "I know who you are!"

"Yes, I'm your papa."

"No you're not, you are Tom Alter!"

Cometh the hour, cometh the Onion

2009-12-21T10:34:00.001+05:30

What. A. Session. West Indies didn't survive in Perth but England somehow did in Centurion. Cracking last session. Friedel de Wet, take a bow. At about 5pm South African time, with England four down for about 200, the mood was bordering on dull as the on-air commentators discussed the selection conundrums for both sides ahead of the second Test, with a lot of chatter about whether South Africa should drop de Wet or Ntini for a fit Steyn. There was talk of Ntini's ability to swing the ball away from the left-handers if he found assistance in Durban, but also of how impressive de Wet had been on debut, especially the longer he bowled. Then, in eight overs of the new ball, de Wet turned the game on its head and the commentators were salivating.

Tremendous effort by the debutant. Unlike Ntini, he made the batsmen play. That's all you need to do in such situations, and a false shot or two is bound to occur. Sure enough, a solid Trott was done for bounce, the ball skimming the shoulder of his bat to third slip where de Villiers took a blinder. Next to go? Surprise, surprise ... the Shermanator. Ian Bell looks gorgeous when creaming drives through cover and mid-on when all is well, but turn up the pressure and this wimp nicks the ball to second slip, tucks his bat under his arm, and its thanks for coming, Belly.

As the commentators discussed Bell's ability to bat big and pretty in county cricket but how his mindset changes in high-pressure Test cricket, the inevitable happened. Good bell, bat hangs out, nick to Boucher, great catch. Bye bye, Bell.

As one regular Cricinfo feedbacker said: "If Luke Wright does not replace Ian Bell for the 2nd Test, I'm taking up South African nationality in protest."

Prior was done for by a gem from de Wet, climbing from off stump and taking the edge to Boucher. Out goes Ntini, in comes Harris for some spin and viola! Third ball he gets Broad to nick one and the review confirms it.

Now its five slips, a short leg and a short cover. de Wet red hot. What a spell - 7-3-11-3. Poor Collingwood at the other end, stubborn and wondering where his team-mates were and who the posers were on the procession line. It really was an amazing collapse of South African proportions. The game looked headed for a tame draw but inspired by de Wet, it all changed.

Then a fuller one stayed low and darted back off the upright seam, striking Swann flush on the knee cap in front of middle and leg. It looked plumb, Morkel confidently appealed, Aleem Dar raised his finger, and Collingwood's request for the review showed that the world's best umpire was spot on. Nineteen deliveries to go, and out walks the last man. Five wickets went down for 15 runs in 11.1 overs.

It was as tense as Edgbaston and Old Trafford 2005, Lord's 2007, Sydney 2008 and Cardiff 2009. In fact England could have fainted from the deja vu of that Cardiff cracker this summer.

In the second last over, Collingwood and Onion ran a single off the fourth ball. That left Collingwood two balls to get a single. He got a four and a dot. Smith went back to Ntini for the last over. Six balls in his 100th Test. Amazing. Onions on strike. But was Ntini the best option? He made Onions play all six balls but Onions survived. So near, yet so far. Onions should keep his place in Durban just for his batting. England survived the most draws this decade?

South Africa's exceptional catching also contributed to the drama. de Villiers and Boucher were awesome. What a wonderful, see-saw match, and that's the beauty of Test cricket. Good to see Smith push de Wet up the stairs as the team reached the boundary, saying go on, lead us off.

Stuff high-scoring ODIs where big bats sodomize dead tracks. Give me a session of Test cricket like that any time.

Random Films I Liked: Pirate Radio

2009-12-20T12:30:00.006+05:30

Introducing a new post that I hope will occur frequently on the these pages: Random Films I Liked. And starting off it is Pirate Radio, aka The Boat That Rocked, a period comedy about an illegal radio station in the North Sea in the 1960s.

A film that begins with Phillip Seymour Hoffman yelling into the airwaves about the power of rock and roll to the tunes of The Kinks and ends with the words "That's how you do it, innit?" cannot really go wrong.

It's far from perfect, the frame isn't bit enough to carry the cast of eccentric characters, and it doesn't take itself too seriously, but it's a lovely little film - I say little because it doesn't carry an overbearing Hollywood tag and resonates with tinges of indie classics like Almost Famous and Across the Universe - that portrays the mayhem of rock music and what it went through in that era.

The film, shot almost entirely on a ramshackle oil tanker, is set against the backdrop of the whole sex, drugs and rock n roll theme and the battle the stiff-upper-lip BBC waged against it. In the 1960s the BBC had a monopoly on radio services in the UK, and there were but two hours of rock and roll music played a week. As a result, the high demand for rock and the low supply led to the emergence of pirate radio.

Refusing to bow down is the most popular pirate radio station, and iconic ship anchored in the North Sea, with a motley crew of DJs and support staff. Think of the crew from The Life Aquatic drinking, smoking and playing classic rock hits on the radio from the middle of the ocean, with conjugal visits from ecstatic groupies and teenyboppers.

The kid trying to find himself in his teens, while searching for his father, and his sexual awakening track was a bit cliched and forced, and one that often turns your attention away from the bigger issue of the law trying to clamp down on the radio station via its Marine Offense Act (the naming of a government functionary Twatt was apt). But the acting and Curtis' ability to pen witty one-liners and create funny situations keeps you entertained. The montages range from surreal to slapstick to rowdy to existentialist, but all bind the film together.

Sure, there are times when the symbolism and metaphors pore over almost as frequently as the terrific blasts of classic Brit rock from the Beatles and the Stones to Dusty Springfield and David Bowie, and the boat does creak from character overload, but director Richard Curtis (Love Actually) succeeds - for the second time - in steering the film's ship through choppy waters. Aiding his vision is a terrific ensemble cast. I mean seriously, can you go wrong with Hoffman, Bill Nighy, Rhys Ifans, Nick Frost, Kenneth Branagh and Emma Thompson? Throw in a top-notch supporting cast - props to whoever decided to get Flight of the Chonchords' Rhys Darby on board - and a great soundtrack and you can't go wrong.

Night, Frost and Ifans get the bulk of the classic dialogue, but everyone leaves an impact, even if they don't all get ample screen time. Playing The Count, an American DJ, Hoffman gets to let his hair down after Doubt and, as the who-gives-a-crap outsider in a sea of "Limy bastards", gets to lift the film's finger up to establishment theme.

Critics may argue that Curtis could have pushed harder to delve into the phenomenon that was British radio in the mid-60s, and rightly so, but it was probably his choice to stick to a genre he's comfortable in. The point is not to push the envelope too much, and in a way that makes this a watered down final product. No pun intended, as you'll see in the final scene.

The film's message is that its just about having fun. As Ifans' cool cat DJ Gavin would say, purring into his microphone: "Hit it!"

2009-12-19T12:42:00.000+05:30

It’s always fun to watch the underdog try and make a fist of it. West Indies, set 359 to win at the WACA and level the series, were three down for about 80 when I switched the TV on. I watched fleetingly, going about getting breakfast, checking my email, letting the maid clean up, and so on.

A while later I looked up and the score had moved to 140 without further loss. Still a mountain to climb for West Indies. It wasn’t just pushing and prodding and padding up. There were pull shots being attempted, cuts were being squirted past fielders and the frustration was palpable on the faces of the Australians.

Hauritz versus Deonarine isn’t going to get many enthusiasts glued to their TV screens, but there was an intriguing little contest brewing. Deonarine was stuck in the forties for a while, and broke the shackles with a four and six off Hauritz, both hit on dancing feet and over the infield. Suddenly there was a bit of aggression in the chase, and for the next two overs Deonarine’s shot selection turned itchy, like he wanted to continue attacking Hauritz.

Until this point Hauritz had found it difficult. He hadn’t gotten any turn, his flight wasn’t forthcoming, he was plugging away from only around the stumps, and he’d gone for nearly three and a half an over. Perhaps taking a cue from his spinning partner North who, despite the lack of sharp turn showed himself to be a thinker by making Deonarine and Nash play a bit more, Hauritz brought his line closer to off stump. He gave it some more flight, the ball pitched and spat up to clip Deonarine’s glove and then Haddin’s shoulder before it died just in front of Clarke at slip.

A few overs later Hauritz tossed it up generously, tempting Deonarine, and he took up the challenge, striking it well from out of the rough and playing through the line, and got four over mid-off. Hauritz wouldn’t have minded. Almost every time Hauritz gave the ball flight and slowed it up, something happened. An aerial shot, an inside edge, an outside edge falling short.

It was a fantastic session. It began with Deonarine and Nash blocking everything Australia threw their way. Towards the end of it, a slip and silly point were being counter-punched by the pair, who didn’t shy from cutting into the off side. Sliders were also being swept with power, shorter ones pulled over square.

West Indies were fighting, for the second Test running.

2009-12-15T20:51:00.001+05:30

The kid sitting in front of his father on the handlebar of the motorcycle is looking at me, agog. What does a kid of 2 or 3 think when they see someone who looks different? Can the mind comprehend the difference in skin color? Do I even look human to that kid?

2009-12-14T21:28:00.001+05:30

Sign spotted at the junction of Frazertown and Ulsoor: WORK IN PROGRESS TAKE DIVERSION AT KENSINGTON OVAL. Seriously?

2009-12-13T17:11:00.001+05:30

Rare Sunday off. Found myself watching Karz. The Himesh one. Why did they have to take a bad film and remake it into a terrible one? Can you imagine being Dino Morea, dying, and then coming back as Himesh Reshammiya? It doesn't get worse than that.

Cracked up hearing Himesh clear this throat/nose when singing his ode to Om Shanti Om - Hari Om. Sounded like he was saying "Hurry home, hurry home".

And what's with his fetish for 15-year olds? And Raj Babbar looking like the discarded sardar from the mafia gang in Singhh is Kingg?

Bakhtyar is in the film too. First time I saw him anywhere other than Bigg Bosss 3 or that contraceptive ad. I half expected Vindoo to walk into the frame and slap him.

2009-12-12T17:43:00.001+05:30

I’ve cracked it. There’s no point spending time and money joining a gym or getting up at 6 am for a run. To look slimmer, all I have to do is hang around people fatter than me.

Jinge bells, Santa smells

2009-12-11T22:38:00.003+05:30

You can tell the Christmas season is upon us in Bangalore when the beggars at the MG Road traffic lights come up to you wearing floppy Santa hats and try to get you to buy one as well as a crappy plastic Santa mask. Ho ho ho.

2009-12-11T10:17:00.002+05:30

"Tumhara desh ka ek rupaiyya hai kya?"

That's the cab driver at 12.20 in the morning after dropping me home from work.

2009-12-10T21:58:00.000+05:30

"Chunnu, munnu aur pappu di gaddi". Its no more. Buland Bharat ki buland tasveer. Its no more. RIP.

Please don't touch HMT watches, Saridon or Laxman Sylvania.

2009-12-09T20:21:00.003+05:30

If your name is Hanumanth Reddy and you are reading this, please tell all who are important to you that my number is not your number. I'm sick of the wrong numbers.

Paa ...

2009-12-09T10:19:00.000+05:30

Electricity bill was a week overdue. Decided to beat the rush and get to the local BESCOM by 845. There was still a line at that time. An eclectic one at that. An Anglo-Indian portly lady, her hair done up in a bun and bandanna, with shopping bags. Three old men, each haggard and unshaven, like they'd stumbled out of the nearest watering hole and decided that standing in a line was a decent way to beat a hangover. I ended up behind one of them, with long oily hair matted to his forehead. He was sweating on a cool morning. The burlap handbag hanging by his side was leaking something that, if you stepped in it, smeared the ground. Then a short old man joined the line behind me and kept getting a bit too close for comfort. I'd move to one side, he'd close in. Not fun.

Finally I got to the window and paid my bill. As I was waiting for my receipt another old man, scrawny, toothless and in a beanie, sidled up and smiled. I nodded back. Then from is satchel he pulled out three books about Christianity and handed me one: "Its only 50 rupees, brother, and the Lord will save you."

I'm getting Ramesh to pay my electricity bills from now on.

2009-12-07T09:41:00.000+05:30

Three of the first crew that was Motley were at the Brabourne watching the return of Test cricket to the venue. Naseeruddin Shah, my father and Aakash Khurana. Where's Benji?

Seeing the trio, alone and on different days of the Test match, took me back to Sadhana Apartments and the backstage of Prithvi, where as a kid I would watch rehearsals, make-up sessions and after-show parties. I remember hiding under the bed when I saw Kenny get out of the lift at Sadhana. I remember hating Naseer briefly because he'd killed my father in Shyam Benegal's Junoon. I remember playing with Benji's son Rahil. I have vague memories of meeting Naseer and Ratna in the US, and ordering pizza.

2009-12-06T14:50:00.002+05:30

Do the blind have dreams and nightmares?

2009-12-05T14:47:00.001+05:30

Music has always been an integral part of my life, even though I can't play an instrument. Tried the flute in grade four, but something about blowing on a long, thin object just didn't seem right. Tried the piano, but old Mrs. Hoy in Harrisburg, PA put me to sleep. Tried the guitar, but the creepy Polish instructor Ivor pissed me off. Am I making excuses for my own ineptitude? Maybe.

I grew up around music, if not musicians. There was always music playing wherever we lived. I remember being a toddler and fiddling with my parent's record player, tiptoeing up to it and playing with the cartridge - it reminded me of a caboose - before someone yanked me away from it. LPs of Bing Crosby, CCR, the Eagles and Bob Dylan sat placed on shelves in Mussoorie and various apartments in Bombay.

My earliest memory of comprehending lyrics is of sitting in Sadhana Apartments on Gamadia Road, the quite little lane that connects Warden Road to Peddar Road. My dad flipped between audio cassettes of the Beatles and Aradhana, music by SD Burman. I remember being amazed, confused and later confident at listening to and mastering a few lyrics from both cassettes, as distinctly dissimilar in language and comprehension as my five-year-old ears and mind could believe them to be.

"Follow her down to a bridge by a fountain ... where rocking horse people eat marsh mellow pies" shares as much space in my memory as "Raat nasheeli, mast sama hai, aaj nashe mein, saara jahaan hai...". I didn't know what half those words meant but they were mystic, overpowering and cool. I will never forget either song.

In a way that moment captures who I am. Torn between two cultures. I have never been able to decide on whether I like Western or Indian music better.

"You prepare the paperwork and come, yes?"

2009-12-04T15:32:00.001+05:30

So apparently I have a new job profile - that of translator between my building's Nepali watchman/supervisor and foreign tenants with broken English who don't speak Hindi.

I'm at home finishing up season two of It's Always Sunny in Philadelphia this afternoon, after getting home from a 4am-12noon shift at work, when the doorbell rings. It is Ramesh, the watchman, who speaks decent Hindi. But he's got an accent that makes it a little difficult to comprehend what he's saying, plus he doesn't really open his mouth when he speaks. Its more of a mutter.

He says something about how he can't communicate with the man below, who he says is Iranian. He says he's supposed to pay eight thousand rupees but wants to bring it down to seven. I have to ask thrice to confirm just what he was paying for. It's a motorcycle the guy below is apparently selling. Ramesh asks me to translate between him and the Iranian.

I go down and ring the doorbell. A thin, nearly bald man in utterly ill-fitting track pants - and I mean ill-fitting; like too tight in all the wrong areas - with a brat clinging to his foot opens the door. He's clearly confused at why the watchman has brought a white guy who hasn't shaved for a week and desperately needs a haircut. Flustered, he asks us to come in but I politely decline.

I tell him what Ramesh asked me to - that he will give seven thousand now and the rest later. The guy looks at me like I've asked him the meaning of life. Ramesh looks at me expectantly.

We manage to get on the same level soon enough, and I figure out that the motorcycle is not his, but his friend Musa's. Musa is not in Bangalore, I'm told. Ramesh wants to know who has the paperwork. The Iranian says he does. Ramesh is apprehensive of signing off in front of a third party. The Iranian seems keen to shut the door and smack his brat, who has now started to hurl a tennis ball against the wall. Ramesh looks back and forth between the Iranian and I.

The Iranian gets onto the phone, speaks for a minute, and hands me the phone. I speak to Musa, whose accent is thicker than the man in front of me. He wants to know who the interested buyer is. I tell him it's the watchman. He says he wants eight thousand tomorrow. I converse with Ramesh, who says he can give seven and a half max, final offer, repeating that he's a poor man and that Musa give him a concession. Musa isn't buying it. I hand the phone back to the Iranian. He and Musa speak for a while longer.

"OK, that is settled. Thank you," he tells me.

I ask him what is settled. He gives me a blank stare. Ramesh twitches. The kid is about to eat the tennis ball.

He says that Ramesh should decide what he wants and come back. I tell that to Ramesh, who is not properly puzzled. He asks who has the paperwork, and is worried that a third party won't suffice in completing the paperwork.

The Iranian says he has all the paperwork, but that Ramesh must bring the money and "prepare the documents". By now I'm the most confused, and tell Ramesh what the man has said. "Chuck it, something's fishy with this Iranian," he says.

I suppress my laughter. The Iranian snaps at the brat. I say thanks for his time, Ramesh gives him half a smile. The Iranian shuts his door.

Ramesh and I have an awkward moment. He thanks me and we part ways.

That was like a moment from the sitcom I was watching. My life is fun.

2009-12-03T15:28:00.001+05:30

Flat tracks be damned, Sehwag has just hit three consecutive fours, scampered a couple, and smacked another boundary to reach his sixth Test double century. What a player. No Indian batsman has hit six double centuries.

He's on 202 from 168 deliveries, on day two of a Test match. Not just any Test, the first one at the Brabourne for 36 years.

My father is sitting in the crowd somewhere. Lucky man.

2009-12-03T07:13:00.000+05:30

Listened to a few tracks by The Raghu Dixit Project. Decent. I especially liked 'Mysore Se Aayi', 'Hey Bhagwan' and 'Ambar'. Its contemporary folk, sort of. The band played at a prison in Bangalore recently. Seems the inmates enjoyed it, from what I saw on TV.

2009-12-01T14:05:00.000+05:30

It doesn't feel right seeing Adnan Sami Khan and Jermaine Jackson jiving in a pop video tribute to Bombay (yes, Raj, I will call it that, boo hoo)a year after 26/11. What does Jermaine know of the city? What does he know of India? And seeing Adnan holding the Gateway of India between his index finger and thumb just looks wrong. I see where he's going, trying to salute the city's spirit and all he's earned from it once hopping across the border. It smacks of gimmick. But more so it leaves an awkward taste, given how strained relations have been between India and Pakistan. A Pakistani, who has earned so much fame and money since landing in Bombay, holding a symbol of the city, just in front of the scene of that horrific attack? Doesn't feel right.

2009-11-25T10:17:00.000+05:30

Trains used to be decent fun. What happened? Can't sleep. Can't eat (what is with the two veg patties and a slice of bread for breakfast?).

Ik Omkara ... OYE!

2009-11-23T12:11:00.004+05:30

What if Vishal Bhardwaj had made Omkara with Sunny Deol instead of Ajay Devgan? Let’s have a look at how different some of those unforgettable dialogues would have been … steady on …

Omkara in the jail (yelling with an outstretched hand, with that trademark sideways glance): “Jo agvai ka kaam kare soh hijra, Bhaisaab. Agar inki beti mujhe jhoota bole toh maa kasam, saara PIND ko aag lagake ek-ek karke in KUTTON ka khoon pee jaaonga! Jo bole so nihaal!”

Omkara to Vakil Sahib: ”Hamari jaat to khoob pehchani aapne Vakil Sahib, par apni beti ke dil ki baat nahi pechaan sake! Dolly sirf meri hai, sirf meri, aur koi bhi mai ka laal uski taraf aankh utha kar bhi dekhe na … toh haddi-paslee thod ke rakh doonga!”

Omkara to Surinder Kaptan: “Badi lakdi mat ttha, Kaptan! Maa ka doodh piya hai toh asli mard se panja lada!”

Omkara to Kichloo, who has been held up against a wall: (With an outstretched arm, pointed index finger wagging, eyes burning, nostrils flared, lungs being cleared with the force of a geyser) “Oye, haramkhor, sarat godon pe lagate hain, sheron pe nahin! Yaad rakh nahin toh boti-boti pees ke rakh doonga! Balwant Rai ke kutto! OYE!!!”

Omkara to Kesu as he anoints him the new bahu bali: “No if, no but, sirf JATT!”

Instead of humming the lullaby Jag Jaa to Dolly, Omkara will stomp his feet and dance: ”Yaara o yaara, ab toh jag jaa!”

Omkara to Rajjo on the evening of Gollu’s birthday: “OYE! Saam dale kinga jaayegu tu, machchar?”

Omkara, instead of asking Langda where Kesu is, will bellow: “Oye, ROMEO kidhar hai?”

Omkara to Langda Tyagi and a bloody, inebriated, shamed Kesu Firangi: Kasoor daaru ka nahin, PAKISTAN ka hai! OYE! Hand pump kidhar hai?”

Omkara, when demanding to know where the jeweled cummerbund: ”Utaar ke fenk do ye wardi aur pahen lo Balwant Rai ka patta apne gale mein!”

Omkara to Langda in the rain after the shootout on the train: “Haan ke naa? Oye kaminey, haan ke naa? Yeh dhai kilo ka kaath jab kisipe padtha hai na … toh aadmi uttha nahi, ud jaata hai! Haan ke naa?”

Omkara’s ultimatum to Langda ahead of his wedding day: ”Taarikh pe taarikh! Saddi se pehle saboot ni laya na … toh halak pe haat daal ke kaleje kheech lunga haram khor! Kasam khata hun kal ka suraj ka, ussi waqt zinda doonga! OYE!!”

Omkara to any number of baddies, reaching for the nearest hand pump: “Khaal udhed ke pinjar dhoop mein sukha doongaa, Balwant Rai ke kutto!”

Run fat boy run

2009-11-22T14:47:00.000+05:30

I’ve started running off and on – the off ration outweighs the on significantly – in the mornings after my gym membership expired in August. I can’t do this gym thing; I much prefer the outdoors.

It’s been good because there actually is a place to run near my apartment in Bangalore and there are lots of joggers and walkers so I’m not the only person exercising at that hour. As expected when a white guy puts on a t-shirt and shorts and straps an iPod Nano to his arm in these parts, there are a lot of curious onlookers.

By now a few of them - the regulars like the bicycle tire repair dude, the newspaper stand owner, the barber who opens his shop at 7 as I’m returning, and the army guards at the gates of the officers’ mess – don’t even bat an eyelid as I bustle past.

A few people have struck up conversations whenever I stop to walk a little ways to cross the road or where the dirt path around the lake is dug up. There was the sardarji who crossed me in his Hyundai Accent – he’s also a regular walker – and asked me if I wanted a lift to the lake; the elderly American lady walks with her trio of friends; the college kid walking his dog who asked me why obesity was so bad in the US. A few others have just stood gaping. There are invariably young kids – most regularly the street urchins and the boy scouts – who giggle. There was even the trio on a motorbike who catcalled as they sped past (I know, three dudes squashed together on a Hero Honda and I look strange?).

Today was funny though. So there I was this, busting a gut to The Doves’ ’Kingdom of Rust’, when an auto rickshaw slowly pulls up and put-puts alongside. Says the driver: “Hello, boss, you want auto?”