Cruelty and Romance of Sport

            Serena Williams was on the verge of making history. Sure, she has already made history before. There is no need for me to elaborate on those achievements. If she had retired before this semi-final against Roberta Vinci, without picking up her racquet ever again, she would still be considered the best of this generation and in the Top 5 tennis players of all time. But this US Open was different. She is already one of the greatest. But we are talking a level above. Winning this US Open would have elevated her to the levels of Pele, Michael Jordan, Muhammad Ali and Don Bradman. ‘The Greatest’ club. At least to me.

            Better than Roger Federer and Steffi Graf, better than Sachin and Schumacher, better than Tiger Woods and Usain Bolt and Michael Phelps. That’s how remarkable her achievement would be. At least to me.

           But sport, and life in general, has always had some fundamental realities. Every time we forget, they are reinforced – in various manifestations. One of them was reinforced today. Serena lost. It was an upset for the ages.

Sport is cruel. Very cruel.

Ask Sachin Tendulkar, who after a surge of centuries, got stuck at 99 for an embarrassingly long time. His legacy was secure, but the disastrous wait for the grand event is also part of it now.

Ask Tiger Woods, who in 2008 won his 14^th Major but is still stranded at the same exact spot.

Ask Rafael Nadal, who is also stuck at 14, his odds of overtaking Federer considerably low now.

Ask Steven Gerrard, who seemed destined for Liverpool’s first EPL title and lost at the final hurdle. It got worse when he captained the England team in a horrible World Cup and finished his career with embarrassing losses to mediocre teams.

Ask Liverpool, who have been waiting for No.19 forever and seem to live more in history than reality.

Ask Badrinath, whose brilliant domestic cricket career overlapped with the careers of the Fab Four and is now lost in oblivion.

Ask those unlucky unknown sportsmen and women who lost their career to injuries, poverty and lack of opportunities.

Ask Serena herself, who stepped on glass after winning Wimbledon and lost a year when on top of the world. And has to defeat her own sister in nearly half her Slam wins. I am not even bringing up the prejudice and the intended/unintended racist views that she has to withstand. That needs a separate post of its own.

I agree, sport also has its own fairy tales – Ivanesevic and Sachin winning World Cup immediately spring into mind – but, in general, sport is cruel.  Very cruel.

But, come to think of it, the romance and beauty of sport is derived out of this cruelty only. This is what we watch sport for. For these moments when fairy tales don’t happen. This is what makes sportstars human. This is what connects them with us mere mortals, who couldn’t play beyond street/school/college.

 It is only when we recognize defeats, we truly appreciate victories.

Successes don’t create fairy tales, failures and adversities do. Success only completes them.

Information Overload - Is it or Is it not?

As I was paying over the counter for Appy Fizz, I got a WhatsApp message that said,”Appy Fizz causes Cancer. Never drink it.” Oops. What do I do now?

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I have always thought that the amount of information man can store and process has remained almost constant throughout history. True, the variety of info that a man can remember today is much more than, say, 60000 years ago, but in terms of the amount of data, like in GBs, it hasn’t changed much at all. For example, a  Jaravan tribal, who has no exposure to the outside world,  can identify and differentiate more than 70 types of tubers that he has seen in his entire life of living in a 200sq.km forest while, evidently, we cannot.

                So, as the variety of information we encounter and digest increases, it leads to two distinct developments.

•      It takes a lot of effort for someone to make me notice and absorb any info

•      The info I absorb doesn’t stay in my mind for long

The first point has led to what I call the “death of superlatives.” Every video that is shared is “Best ever”, “ultimate” and “never seen before”, every quote “the greatest of the century”, every picture “the cutest” and “most beautiful”, every act “impossible” and “extraordinary”, every cricket match the “greatest ever” and so on.  This is the same reason why Arnab Goswami goes berserk on TV and politicians scream at each other. The same reason why some online news portals change the titles of the same news articles multiple times so as to be relevant on Google News. It takes so much effort to make me take notice.

The second has more interesting effects. The “best ever” TV series I watched this week is usurped by another next week and I don’t remember the “greatest IPL match” ever. This means that a marketer has to put in more effort to make me remember his product, the R&D line of automobile companies have to keep rolling out new cars because my attention span is lower  and Arnab has to report new “Extraordinary events” everyday.

This information overload has unleashed a new beast, actually an old beast in a deadlier version: false information. Whenever there is a crowd, there would be false information, miscommunication, rumours and outright lies. And internet is a big bad crowd of magnitude humanity has never dealt with before.

So, we have a FB post of a quote attributed to Lord Macaulay that says, “I have traveled across the length and breadth of India and I have not seen one person who is a beggar, who is a thief. Such wealth I have seen in this country, such high moral values, people of such calibre, that I do not think we would ever conquer this country, unless we break the very backbone of this nation, which is her spiritual and cultural heritage, and, therefore, I propose that we replace her old and ancient education system, her culture, for if the Indians think that all that is foreign and English is good and greater than their own, they will lose their self-esteem, their native self-culture and they will become what we want them, a truly dominated nation.” Sorry, he never said this.

Then there is one more that quotes Putin saying something about Minorities in Russia. Sorry, false again. Gujarat and Modi is another area where there is so much wrong info floating around. Health facts are another area victimised. Appy Fizz causes cancer. No, it does not. Mentos plus coke will cause instant death. No it doesn’t. Kurkure has plastic. Seriously? Mobile phones emit 1000 times stronger signals when battery is low. Oops, wrong again. Dont drink Tea in Plastic cup. It can cause 52 types of Cancer. Bullshit.

All these information have one or more of these following characteristics

-          They make you feel good about your history, culture or heritage

-          They make you feel extreme emotions like revenge

-          They threaten your existence itself

-          They usually quote reputed sources

-          They give credence to what you want to think of, but what may not actually be true

Biased information is a different thing altogether. Varied interpretations of correct data may exist. For example, 18 degrees at Bangalore may be cold for a Chennaite but warm for a Canadian. 

But how do we identify which information is right and which is wrong, assuming we usually seek the right information? These false info and rumours may have serious consequences, like when north east Indians packed their bags from Bangalore and went back to their homes because of rumours about danger to their lives. Or like past week, in Chennai, when after a bomb blast, there were rumours of multiple bombs planted across the city.

Usually, couple of extra clicks and minutes can dispel your doubts about any info that you encounter. But it is always necessary to take any info on social media with a pinch of salt, particularly when you decide to act upon that information. So the next time I encounter a picture that shows Buddhist monks throwing dead bodies into the fire, I would do some more research and find out that they were actually cremating victims of a huge cyclone in Myanmar.

Doomsday Prediction

In a recent discussion on the ‘Impact of Macroeconomics on Auto Industry’, the presenter painted a very rosy picture of the future when a participant asked, “So, what’s the catch?” The presenter just smiled in a resigned manner and replied,” Please vote judiciously. We are doomed if the next government is unstable.”

This article is an attempt to understand if we are doomed. So, will the next government be stable? What are the factors that will impact the stability of the next government?

Before I get into who will come to power, let me get this straight. Corruption will not be an issue in the elections. India is too big and diverse for that. Did Adarsh scam impact me on a personal level? Did CWG, Coalgate or 3G impact me? Actually 3G scam may be the reason call rates came down so drastically. The common man who is more than willing to bribe the policeman when in trouble, bribes to get gas connection early, uses influence to jump the queue in crowded temples, produces non-existent receipts in office for undeserved reimbursements and so on is not overly bothered about corruption. The issues in the election will be price rise, caste, religion, jobs, roads, electricity, Marathi/Gujarati/Tamil pride and other stuff like anti-incumbency, leadership etc

So let us make a broad assumption on the seats for the parties.

NDA – 210-220

UPA – 110-120

Others – 210-230

       So what are the options that we have?

1. Third front – Let us get this myth out first. Mamata cannot live with Left, SP cannot with BSP, ADMK and DMK, TDP and YSR Congress. This just means  “Others” is not 210-230, because as a single coalition, it cannot be more than 100-120
2.  Congress led, supported by others or Third Front supported by Congress. The previous point makes it clear that this option will also not reach the half-way mark
3.  NDA led, Modi as PM, supported by others – This looks like a distinct possibility, under the assumption that Jayalalitha and Naveen Patnaik will support Modi.
4. NDA led, puppet PM, supported by others – This option may bring in a few “secular” parties along. So this is also a possibility, though a little far-fetched.

This buzzword “secular” reminds me of the impression created against Congress and BJP by the media and the other parties. This by itself can form the basis of another blog. It is fascinating to see media houses give subtle/not-so-subtle hints against some of the parties. While the negative imagery of Congress is around words like corruption, dynasty, suffering and poverty, the ones around BJP are blood, riots, wounds, death, dark etc. This is an attempt to influence those who value life over survival, which is pretty much everyone. To find out if the attempt was successful, we will have to wait till May 16.

Well, I digressed. Now that option 3 or 4 looks probable, the other parties which will possibly support NDA will be ADMK, BJD, MNS, BSP and TMC. And this brings in a peculiar set of regional leaders: Raj Thackerey and the deadly trio of Jaya, Mamata and Maya. What is the common thread among these leaders? One, they can be very unpredictable. Two, you can’t afford to hurt their ego.  

People like Karunanidhi, Nitish, Mulayam and Left leaders can be expected to behave in a certain way, depending on the ministries they get and the CBI cases against them. But the others are not. In 1999, Jaya had lost an election recently and had so many corruption cases against her, she knew DMK may come in to prop up NDA, but still she pulled the plug. But it was fairly predictable when Left quit UPA over the Nuclear deal.

So, this unpredictability and ego of these leaders (Raj, Jaya, Mamata and Maya) will be the factors that will decide the stability of the next government. Tough I say.

A sample of the demands that will topple the next government will be

• -           Vote against Sri Lanka in UNHRC session. Else I Quit
• -          Dont dare release Teesta waters to Bangladesh. Else I Quit
• -          Give special status to my state. Else I Quit
• -          Remove CBI cases against me. Else I Quit
• -          Dont dare increase fuel prices, damn the Oil companies. Else I quit
• -          Dont rub my ego in any way. Else I Quit

So what does the next 5 years hold for us? In one word, DOOM.

THE END

09:40:05 P.M, Yesterday

             He was waiting for her. It was cold and overcast. He pulled his jacket closer. The weather seemed to reflect his mood. He touched his gun to his cheek, feeling the cold metal. He would do it today. He had to. He wanted to see those pretty eyes widen in shock. This would be the final act. His Judgment.

                She must suffer for loving him; for leaving him; and for still loving him. Just as he had borne all her wrath.  Yes, the mistake had been his, his alone, but the price he had paid was far too much. And for that, she’ll pay now; with her life.  As he was rolling these thoughts around his head, he heard footfall.

              It was her. Those round, brown eyes; like a Japanese doll. His own moonbeam. He was entranced, just as he always was.  He scurried behind some bushes, out of sight. She walked past, as if in a spell. He realized that she must be thinking about him. He couldn’t bring himself to do it. “Tomorrow”, he said to himself and hurried back. 

09:40:05 P.M, Yesterday

           The pain was excruciating. She could not bear this emptiness in her. Leaving him hadn’t been easy. She knew it never would be. They had been too close for that. Still, she had to do it. There was no alternative. She tried to drive the thoughts off her mind. The park was silent, which did not help her cause. Then she saw him crouched behind some bushes, looking at her.

             She wanted run towards him, hug him and say everything was fine and they could go back to being just as they were, but she knew it was beyond reclamation. All spoiled by one moment of blind hatred. Part of her wanted him to run to her, hug her and say everything was fine but she knew life did not work that way. She walked past him; still hoping life did work that way.  

09:30:33 P.M, Today

                  He was waiting for her.  It was a beautiful clear night, and the moon was a thin two day crescent. Jupiter shone brilliantly in the east amid the faint stars of Pisces.  Even the night was conspiring against him, sneering, reminding him of all those nights he had spent with her under this same, star-dotted dome. That seemed a lifetime ago; those stolen moments of unadulterated bliss. Now he was tensed, and felt his shirt damp against his damp skin. The park’s nocturnal inhabitants were now waking up. He heard crickets droning, frogs croaking and the rustle of leaves as a snake slithered somewhere. “Focus”, he said to himself and mentally rehearsed what he had to do, as he hid his gun in his jacket. Then he saw her.

09:30:33 P.M, Today

                The park seemed the same. She knew he would be there today too; waiting for her as always. Today she wanted to talk. This stalking had to stop. All stories had to end somewhere. May be this might end happily ever after. She looked up. Jupiter shone brilliantly in the east amid the faint stars of Pisces. He had taught her star gazing; she thought that the night was telling her how delightful those days had been; those unending nights of looking at the stars, resting on his shoulders. She made up her mind. They had to talk. Then she saw him. 

09:31:00 P.M, Today

                He came out into the path. They stared at each other; all those years between them. She ran into his arms, sobbing. She felt him stiffen, but he relaxed immediately. They hugged, still sobbing. Slowly hand in hand, they started walking back, silent. They just needed each other’s presence. No words were necessary. No words would be enough.

                He felt her hands in his, warm and soft. She was his goddess, his muse, his unborn child, his dead mother. He felt ashamed that he had even thought of a punishment. He would make it up to her, he thought, devoting his entire life for her. Just to be with her as she grew old and pale; to be always there holding her hand.

                 She felt his hand in hers, hard and strong. He had taught her to appreciate the world and life; he had made her who she was. Nothing would bring them apart now. Everything was forgotten. It was all just a hazy dream in the realms of her subconscious. She would have been happy even if the world had ended right then. They walked back to his place and got married the next day. It was bliss. It was an entire lifetime.

09:31:02 P.M, Today

              He was calm, as he took the Glock 17 out of his pocket. He saw her eyes widening, scared. She knew. And he knew he couldn’t through with it if he heard her voice. 

“I love you”, he said, his voice breaking.

Then he shot himself. 

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A Short Story by my friend, Bharathwaj Ranganathan, that lazy genius who refuses to write more

Go Crazy..Write a Blog

               My blogging cycle works like this: An idea occupies my mind, I get obsessed with the idea, pour it out in my blog and then torture dozens of my poor friends to read it and forcefully make them say it is good. Then laziness prevails for few months before the cycle begins all over again.

                Today was one such day when the cycle should have begun. I had a couple of ideas in mind that I had to write about when I, fatefully, asked my bro for his opinion. He came up with the idea of me, not him, writing stories/posts on my blog and publishing it as a collection. His logic was if Chetan Bhagat and Amish can do it, why can’t I? I am also a Tech+MBA. But I am more of an analyst than a creative thinker, for which my bro came up with the catchphrase of the day,” If you dont try, you will never know what you are capable of”. Then began a deeply intellectual conversation that would put Raghuram Rajan and Albert Einstein to shame.

                So what follows is an initial list of what all one can write in a blog. 

The “Awwww.. How Romantic” Type:

                This series would have stories like “How I almost fell in love”. This is especially for people like who never fell in love but would somehow try to exaggerate every flirt of his into a looonngg and romantic love story, like the day a girl asked me if she had lost weight and I told her the truth. There can also be stories like “Why I never fell in love”, but this is for those guys who have been dumped by more than half a dozen girls. The focus should be on showing that you are above petty things like love, that you are more focused on your career or that girls are stupid.

The  “Fail!! Fail!!.” Series

                These posts can have titles something like “Falling in Love is no easy business” which is especially for those people who have always been ready to fall in love but no girl even registered his existence or every girl considered him a brotherly friend. This would be primarily because of getting tongue-struck in front of girls or the inability to stop talking the truth. Another post can be “Be a man and start crying” which is for those souls who pour out their feelings on blog because no one listens to them. Being drunk is a prerequisite for this. There is a breed of shameless men who just don’t realize the “Fail!! Fail!!” moment and carry on life as always. This can be titled, “Fallen down..no sand in moustache”. You need to be proud of your moustache to completely appreciate the title.

                For people who are screwed/insulted/failed/embarrassed in whatever they do, there is a special idea which can be named, “Hit me above the belt, please”.

The “appo, naan than out aa?” series: Roughly translates to “I am screwed, my friends are not“

                This is especially for MBAs who use none of what they studied in their work (“MBA is empty business”) or imagine they actually apply their learning (“6 reasons why you need to do an MBA”). There is also a very small breed of MBAs who work in factories wearing uniforms and are jealous of everyone else. This is for them-“Uniformed MBA in a techie world”. One common thing among all these is that these people realize that their friends without MBA have achieved more than them. 

 The “Go crazy.. Write a Blog” series:

                Finally there is this type of post that one can write called the “Go Crazy.. Write a Blog” where you write shit about nothing and waste a few mins of everyone’s life reading it, like I just did.

                Well, my brother had to go shopping, else I would have written a book on a 100 more ideas.

                Any praises (hopeless scenario) or any brickbats for this blog post are reserved exclusively for my bro.