सोमवार, 18 जुलाई 2011

When The Autograph Seekers Desert You

Wealth and fame slip before one realises the loss. Still, it was a mighty surprise to witness it the way I did the Sunday before last.

Smriti, Rani and I visited Mantri Mall that Sunday. We thought that we would pick up a laptop immediately as the showroom opened, and leave the place early to have lunch at Smriti’s favourite, the Chung Wah, in RT Nagar.

As it usually happens, the showroom opened only at 1100. By the time the Reliance Digital guys were through with explaining the features and requesting for a re-visit the next day to handover the free air-ticket voucher, the clock had already struck 1230. The laptop and accessories came packed in more than a single carton. We were already armed with an umbrella. We had also brought a bag to carry the laptop, but the bag turned out to be inadequate in size to accommodate the cartons. So, here were the three of us, each carrying some sizeable burden.

Chung Wah is a friendly joint reached through a narrow staircase connecting the entrance on the pavement on the street to the restaurant on the first floor. No, visiting it would be out of question, we decided; our shoulders and arms already aching from carrying the oversized packets.

We went up another floor in Mantri Mall. The Madarin Trail betrayed an empty look. Obviously, it was too early for the lunch crowd to throng it. We went to three shops, ordering sea food, fried chicken and noodles. Visits to two of these three shops coincided with those of a middle-aged beauty, and so did the follow up visits made to check the execution status of our order. Half-an-hour later, we thankfully traced our way to the table in the dining area, balancing the food trays, avoiding collision with other people and furniture, and still keeping an eye towards our destination.

It was then when I noticed him. He had a vacant look in his eyes. He was staring at some nonexistent object on the horizon, lost in thought. A far cry from the swashbuckling hero who struck 27 in 29 balls, thus contributing to India winning its first cricket World Cup in 1983. These 27 included a sixer, one of the three that came India’s way in that run starved match.

Here he was, the same never-say-die guy who hit a spectacular 174 at Adelaide in the 80-81 series, after India had collapsed to 130 for 4. It was the highest innings till then by an Indian in Australia, coming after the first test when this batsman retired hurt, hit over the ear by a Len Pascoe delivery.

I crossed his table again, to pick up some more food. There he sat, engrossed in spreading mustard sauce over the fried fish, sitting beside the middle-aged beauty. And to think, he had played role in a movie with Poonam Dhillon. I do not know whether the crowd recognised him. As such, he is difficult to be confused with common folks. The typical salt and pepper French beard is almost a trademark.

No, you can’t miss Sandeep Patil even in a crowd. I looked back, only to find that he had already left. The crowd had given him a miss.

सोमवार, 4 अप्रैल 2011

What they haven’t written so far

In less than thirty hours since India’s ICC World Cup 2011 win, English newsprint describing, dissecting and eulogising the victory is already larger than the carpet area of an average middle class Mumbai home. Consider all languages, and the area occupied would perhaps beat the size of a bungalow in Jharkhand!

What has not been written so far, or, more honestly, what I have failed to read so far, is the following:

1. Experts are entitled to their opinion. So are the street-smart blokes. Regardless of its origin, the opinion is contradictory, and so, by a simple arithmetical logic, partly erroneous. Wins are achieved when the opinion of the bystanders is not allowed to dictate the action of those entrusted with planning, strategy formulation and execution.
2. Products that serve both ends of the spectrum are difficult to be dislodged by the competition. Normally, the left handed Yuvraj Singh should have joined Gautam Gambhir at the fall of Sachin Tendulkar’s wicket, but that would have meant having two left handed batsmen at the crease. Dhoni, a right handed batsman, elevated himself in the batting order, resulting in the need for fresh field setting by Sri Lanka after every single run and and the end of each over.
3. The cash cow (Sachin Tendulkar – 18 runs) and the star product (Virendra Sehwag – no run) may fail to sell at the most crucial moment. The problem child (Dhoni – 150 runs in 7 innings before the final, 91 runs in the 8th and final innings) may bring about spectacular results with a change in product positioning strategy.
4. It is not enough to have a sympathetic or friendly market – urge customers to voice their sentiments in the market place. The entire stadium singing the national anthem with Team India at the beginning of the match, playing of songs motivating India throughout the match, and public expression of support were a damper for the Sri Lankans.
5. Just because something never happened in the past doesn’t mean that it can’t happen. Till India won the World Cup 2011, (i) no host nation had ever won the title, (ii) no team had won the finals if their opponent hit a century in the match, (iii) scores such as 274 were never successfully chased, and (iv) the success rate of the side batting second was only 33%.
6. The shrewdest marketer can miss an opportunity noticed by a field-salesman. The umpire negated the LBW appeal against Thilan Samaraweera. When the bowler Yuvraj Singh insisted, the review was taken and the dangerous batsman had to return to pavilion at 33.
7. Your competitor may write your success story. Had Pakistan not dropped Sachin Tendulkar (85 runs) four times in the semi final, the Cup, perhaps, would have been won by some other team.
8. Brand equity matters a lot. It was perhaps the excitement of dismissing Sachin that led to Pakistan flooring four of his catches. In the old days, mere presence of Sunil Gavaskar at the slips made opponent batsmen over conscious of their technique.
9. Perseverance pays. Even when the dice appeared to be turned against, facing 48 overs and two balls paid rich dividends.

सोमवार, 14 मार्च 2011

Free Expert Advice

I am very unhappy. Unhappy, and sad. Why me, almost everybody is unhappy and sad. Perhaps unhappy and sad more or less mean the same, but unless I use both repeatedly, you will not get a fair idea about my mental condition. In fact, apart from being unhappy and sad, I am angry. Very angry. And so is everybody else.

And why should I not be angry? What does this Dhoni fellow think of himself? I mean, is this his father’s rule (baap ka raaj) that he will include just anybody in the team and not include the ones I prefer? I mean, here the world was crying hoarse that a particular off spinner must be included in the India side, but Dhoni, the adamant fellow that he is, persisted with only a single off spinner. If you can have one off spinner, why not as well have two of them? Don’t one and one make eleven (ek aur ek gyarah)? In his simple high headedness Dhoni included a particular fast bowler. Why? Why could he not have opted for the other guy who not only bowls, but dances well, and picks up fights apart from wickets? And then Dhoni has the cheek to comment about poor fielding. What is the point in making a comment? You are the captain, not the commentator! You should have taught the fielders how to field, rather than complaining, Dhoniji. But what will he do? Money has gone to his mind - these advertisements shadvertisements and all.

Now see the result! India lost. Shameless fellows. Why do you play the game if you are going to lose? In my childhood, whenever I was on the brink of losing, I used to topple the carrom board, throw the chess pieces, and tear off the playing cards. I never lost a game. Never. My first condition before I agreed to participate in any game was that I could not be defeated. There are so many sports lovers like me who now sit on their sofa sets with broken hearts and shattered dreams. See, how happily we used to jump and raise hands whenever the camera zoomed on us in the stadium! You could not but admire the fighting spirit with which we jostled and occupied the entire frame, till the camera moved away.

All our happiness stands punctured now. I wish the guy could listen. But then, no one listens to me. Going to the office and coming back and sitting in front of the TV and having food. Had I desired, I would have become a really big sportsman. Even bigger than this Dhoni fellow. Or, I could have become a better singer than Sonu Nigam. Or a better actor than Shahrukh. But, proper studies were more important for me, not this nach gana and khelna kudna. So I studied, and got a job, and am working. But that does not mean that I cannot give these guys a run for their money. Ab bhi waqt hai Dhoni, sambhal ja! Baad mein mat kehna ki bataya nahin (Get your act in order while there is still time, Dhoni. Don’t complain later that I did not warn you.).

मंगलवार, 8 मार्च 2011

Give and Take

Author Khushwant Singh in a recently published column recounted his birthday celebration. He had turned 96, but that was beside the point. He painstakingly described the gains from the birthday celebration – two bottles of scotch and something else that I have forgotten.

He reminded me of a relative, a lady, a wife of a brigadier on the verge of retirement. The lady attended some function and had to give some gifts. She was happy on her return, showing us the gifts she received at the function. She even calculated the price of the bouquets handed over to her, and was happy to explain that the receipts overweighed the expenditure.

A friend had a habit of scrutinising the rear cover of the greeting cards he received, to figure out their price. Another one has a habit of visiting stores looking for items identical to those received as gifts, to ascertain their price. She says, the exercise is to ensure that she is not found wanting when it is her turn to gift an item to the particular person!

This is just fantastic! A gift, a token of love and delicate sentiments, associating with crude commercial considerations. What should one expect next? Parents expecting children to pay for their stay when they grow and earn?

My thinking about the great Sahir exaggerating in the following lines stands changed:

Jawani Bhatakti Hai Bezaar Ban Kar
Jawan Jism Sajte Hain Bazaar Ban Kar
Jahan Pyar Hota Hai Vyapar Ban Kar
Yeh Duniya Agar Mil Bhi Jaye To Kya Hai!