Namesake

Disclaimer: This is not a review of the movie or the book.

All of you, those who have already visited this place before & those who are first-timers here, must be wondering what does the title “C.t.N” stands for! This post will tell you all about it and something more. :)

As I already said, when I started blogging, it took me more than 2days (54hrs 27mins & 3secs, to be precise) to decide upon a name. Now I have always had a tough time with names. :( I have never been comfortable with them. And I don’t mean remembering names of others or something. :) It’s more of a personal thing.

For starters, I must tell you that till my school days I had been christened with some other name. (Now I am assuming you are not interested in knowing that, so we should leave it. :P) And I personally liked that name, although it was easy to make a mockery of & you could make thousand funny-sounding-stupid derivatives of that sweet name without even cracking a nut on your brain, if your imagination ran little wild. And if you ever ran out of ideas, you can always contact my sister for some help.

Now according to my mom, that name was more like a pet name & didn’t suit a grown up like me. She was more worried about how this name won’t look good, when my name would be written in golden letters in the family history book. Well she has huge expectations from me. :) The fact is that my name had no such defined meaning in hindi & she wanted a bhari-bharkam (bulky) name for her not so bhari-bharkam son. :) Man I tell you moms will always be moms.

I had trouble convincing her that she is a mother of a son whose name is world-famous & also some really interesting personalities share the same name. I would crib about how difficult it will be after I change names & also those tiresome procedures that need to be followed & money you need to shell-out bribing officials. But she would never understand. :(

Anyway all my means failed on the d-day. I got my admission into an engineering college far-off from my home & was about to leave that evening. I was a little senti and they (my mom & sis) took undue advantage of it. I don’t know from where did my sister found a notary & got all those affidavits & other docs prepared, waiting just for my signature. And they knew very well that I couldn’t say no to them that day. Ah! They are too good at planning strategies together. So with that dreadful sign on that fateful day my old-name was buried without any processions & a new name was tagged to me. :(

I land up into this college for admission with my new name but the director there was too busy, with so many students awaiting their ticket to an engineering college, that he asked me to enroll with my old name for now & to change it later when the pressure for other formalities are less on his broad shoulders.
So am in complete mess. Not sure how to introduce myself to others. Should it be my new official name or should it be the name which I filled in for admission (which is also official now). This way the entire 1st sem passed off and by then I had become quite famous in the college. People knew me by my old name. :)

Finally when I did get my name changed in the college records, I (rather my names) was the source of entertainment for my hostel-mates. Well now I have got used to both names & love them equally (basically it doesn’t matter).

Now I can completely relate to what the Bard was trying to say, when he phrased “What’s in a name?” How correct you were, man. *sigh*

I know, you must be wondering where I explained the name of my post. Well I thought you smart people must have already guessed that by now. :)
Anyway it is "Chuck the Name" yaar. :)

Do the cricketers really deserve this?

India is out of world cup. I am disappointed too like zillions of other fans, whose hopes of seeing the cup and glory return to this cricket crazy country came crashing down. I agree that this team played well below their potential and didn’t deserve to qualify for the Super 8.
But what makes me feel even bad (rather sad) is the long list of forwarded mails and articles aimed at ridiculing the cricketers. The performance of the team as a whole and individuals has been well below par (you can say abject too), but what sounds more pathetic to me is the country wide reaction to the premature exit from the tournament. What purpose does breaking into their house, torturing their families, taking out processions with their mock dead bodies or burning their effigies solve?

No one can be more dejected than the players themselves. We all saw the grim faces of Dravid, Tendulkar, Sehwag and others as soon as the last wicket fell. But to make a mockery of those emotional moments for them (and us too) by framing them as new avtars of Gandhiji’s teen Bandar is ridiculous. The ill-famed message, glorifying their commercial abilities and no cricketing acumen is hard to digest too (for me personally). Ya they do a lot of ads these days but they don’t skip their practice sessions or keep games on hold in between to shoot for their ads. And what is their fault if they are being approached by so many business houses to be a brand ambassador for their products. After all they sell in the market and we (the public) are responsible for that. We give them a demigod status ourselves, they don’t ask for it. It is we, who stay awake overnight to watch the match and pray for them or keep fasts for their good performance or leave all our work and watch them in action and feel dejected and waste of time when they lose, but they never asked anyone to do so, did they? Who are we to decide their new professions after the loss in the world cup or when they decide to hang up their boots?
The media builds up unnecessary pressure on these poor souls by aggravating their burden with hopes of billion more. They never promised that they will bring back the cup for sure. They just promised that they will try their best. So why make such an unnecessary hullabaloo.

There was an article in Economic Times yesterday about the advantages of early exit of the team from the tournament. I don’t know how it will increase the productivity of this great nation. If we were so sensible and responsible people, then probably we would have already built the golden quadrilateral at least once, if not seven times that they spoke of. The productivity and man-power of the nation saved because of not watching the match will still be of no use to the development of the country, as people would be sleeping (its midnight here, when matches are beamed live) at times when they would have been watching match, had India qualified.

One friend of mine was asking after we lost to Sri Lanka, that what do I get by watching such matches? It’s just waste of time according to him, since I do nothing then. But dude, what good does watching slick movies and soap-operas do to you? If entertainment is your answer, then there is no big entertainer than sports boss. Why don’t you think on these lines when we are on winning side? Why do you also sit glued to the screen that time? If you think a lost game is a waste of time then remember, after all it’s just a game. One side has to lose for other to win. You can’t be on a winning side always. Learn to take failures in your stride too.
It’s alright to be passionate for the game and team, but such extremist behavior in the name of passion is unacceptable. If you can’t console the players and be with them at this time when they need our support and morale more than any other situation, then please don’t make them (and their families) feel more humiliated by such ignominious acts. For God’s sake, remember they are humans too and bound to fail at times.

Please stop this mud-slinging mails or at least remove my name from your DL.
Because I don’t think Mandira Bedi will ever make it as Indian coach, even after Greg Chappell’s death (or retirement). Let her do what she does best and the players what they do best.

P.S: As I was writing this post, I got yet another forwarded mail showing Mandira Bedi as next coach of the team after Chappell’s death.

Sutta-mates!

Okay so here I am sitting on my desk, staring at the corporate screensaver on my lcd screen, with nothing better to do. In short, getting bored to the core I must say. So what should I be doing for some time-pass? I think. Well first thing that hits me is to prevent any further damage to my already myopic eye-sight. I leave my seat and go out for a cup of cappuccino in the pantry. Well one thing you must know is I love the aroma of coffee beans a lot, but it’s more appealing to me when I have an 80mm, thin cylindrical, tobacco filled Kings in between my fingers. Ya ya I know, it’s a very lengthy, dramatic definition of what you call cigarette aka sutta, but I like it this wayJ.

I am a regular (not heavy, mind you) smoker now for past one and half years, thanks to the good old college days and couple of like-minded jackassesJ. And my average count is somewhere around 4-5 sticks a day. What started as an experimental try of what it feels like (to be cool) has now become almost an integral part of life. I used to see people blow out lengthy puffs of smoke from there mouth and wonder how much distance are they covering? Now I believe I can give them a run for their money too.
The satisfaction which you get when small puffs of smoke mix with the air (can’t call it oxygen now) in your lungs and then form a fog in front of your face cannot be defined in words, but can just be experienced and savored for your entire life. It is this feeling that has made me fail a thousand times, despite a usually strong will-power, against quitting smoking. Trust me when I say this (quitting and will-power I mean). Dudes (my beloved sutta matesJ) back me up here.

Without the sutta I feel incomplete! Moreover when someone blows out the smokes right on my face, that’s enough to break the toughest nut in me. If ever you want me to do anything for you, now you know what to use as your brahm-astra against meJ. I just gave away my weak-point, didn’t I? But who the hell cares, till I am getting yet another free puff from you dudeJ.
If you are wondering have I lost it or am I an insane, out-of-his-mind kind of jerk, then go and listen to “Sutta na mila” or more famous “Have a Cigar” by Pink Floyd. Probably then you might understand what I mean.

You know what the best part of smoking is? It gives you a chance to make a hell lot of friend boss!
You can start away directly by asking for a light from a completely alien looking organism in any part of the universe and take my word, it won’t say No to you if it has one (there can always be some exceptions though).

Strangers become buddies, buddies become friends and friends become bros when you start sharing a smoke. I still have this crazy friend of mine, who has a very weird fascination of smoking under yellow light. I don’t know what was so sexy or appealing about it? Just for the heck of not missing out on an opportunity of sharing the sutta I invariably gave up in front of his stupid fantasy and relished my smoke. (Dude I loved it too boy! And miss that room and lamp-shade so muchL). We have always had weird experiences while smoking together, but the one which I can never forget is that night, when we went to stadium after dinner, with a pack of Marlboro (ya you read it right!) and sit there under a dim lit moon. As soon as we lit the first stick, it started to pour down really heavy and we were drenched completely. The only thing that we could and wanted to save was that white ‘n’ red colored pack. After that night I have never got another chance to smoke in rain, and I still yearn for it.

Now there is another fuck-head that I know, who has tried giving up smoking more times than the number of sticks he has actually smoked. I don’t know what this guy tried gulping down his throat, in his childhood that keeps his throat sore all the time. But that doesn’t hold him away from smoking for a long time. His problem is he loves it even more than what I do. We started off together, way back in 1st year and also quitted (our real and only long try yetJ) together for around a year or so. But this guy is real talent! I envy him because he can do that sexy waterfall which makes girl go weak in their knees. Hang on mate, I am trying hard on getting this act right. Whenever we need to talk some real heavy serious stuff, the sutta is a must. It just makes the entire thing so light (is that an irony here;)).
The other members of our famed sutta-mates community are equal maniacs. One is such a heavy smoker that if we pool in the money to buy a pack, this guy will be the one who will pay for just one but end up smoking half the pack by himself. He is the only one real chain-smoker in our group, but he has brought down the numbers now. Thank god! Good luck for the rest of us. Then there is this jerk who suffers from asthma but still thinks that smoking is so sacred for being a member of the gang, that he gives balls (and he has real huge ones :P, sorry dude) to asthma. You are amazing baap!

Lastly there are these two newly joined idiots, who had never even lit one cigarette during their entire college life. One looks like a kindergarten school student but smokes like a seasoned campaigner, as if born to smoke. Always ready for one. I love this guy’s attitude. And the other one is just unbeatable. He will smoke in such a pro-style that none of us have been able to attain yet. It looks as if cigarettes were made just for this guy and he completes their existence. Man you are real champ, seriously. I am trying to get some lessons from him. He looks so cool when he is smoking (that’s what he thinks:P) and according to us holds the record of number of cigarettes he smoked on his debut (25, that’s his claim and I doubt it reallyJ).

Thanks guys for being my sutta-mates and I will never forget you and the times we shared puffing and yapping our asses off together.
And guys remember, what’s the punch line of the brand that we started off with?
Ya it’s made for each other (okay I take back my words, it’s a bad joke:P).
Sutta helps break the ice between two friends, helps starting any conversation and gives you an opportunity to have your first real conversation with a girl (only if she is a smokerJ).

So go out live your life king-size, while I go for yet another sutta-break.
Anyone interested in accompanying me? Am waiting for you at the nearest cig-shop, just across the road.
See ya there mate!

Statutory Warnings:
· Reading this post and following it can be and is injurious to your health, please take care.
· Don’t start smoking if you are a non-smoker or are trying to quit, just because of this post.
· Smoking causes lung cancer and kills.

What a week-end!

On Friday evening, when I left my desk for a much awaited long weekend, I was very upbeat. We were going to celebrate birthday of a friend (SB), another friend (NN) was coming down from Hyderabad to surprise him. Actually it was my plan for a birthday gift to SB and I had to cajole, plead, blackmail, threaten NN and when nothing worked I had to use my senti powers to get that damn soul down here. Boy! What an expensive gift it turned out for me?
It looked like he had plans of his own to take out his grudge on me, because I spoiled his weekend plans with his someone special back there in Hyderabad. He chose to show up here in the most auspicious time of the day (6 in the morning) and that too at Egmore station of all the places in Chennai. I had agreed to go and pick him up on a bike as per his terms and conditions of coming down here. So keeping up with my promise as a perfect gentleman, even with just 3 hours of sleep, I go and receive him. We meet after a long time and all he does is complaint of making him wait for whole of 10 minutes (wondering if he is my girl-friend?) Even I did. Though I have never experienced it myself, but I could now relate to what those blessed souls (read who have girl friends) must be feeling when they make someone wait for just 10 minutes.
We return to home where every one is enjoying there Saturday morning sleep (unlucky meL) and have no clue about NN being in Chennai. I go and wake up SB, who looks like a distant relative of Kumbhkaran when asleep. He wakes up half asleep and even before I can say the first syllable Sur… he growls at me with all those sweet to your ears sounds (read curses), for waking him up so early. But I don’t give up and with much difficulty manage to wake him up at last.
And then was the moment, he is shell shocked and dumbfounded to see NN there, and as soon as he realized he is not dreaming, three of us scream out of joy and hug each other. SB then shows all his gratitude and stuff. Am a satisfied soul now, feeling good about my plan working out well. And putting behind me all the curses I had to hear, from those two jerks since morning, we go and wake up others and surprise them too.
We were all geared up for the India-Bangladesh match in the evening. And to show our commitment to the game, we bought an entire cricket kit that same day and went out for a game under blaring sun. Everyone was in full form and each one thought himself to be good enough to be a part of the Indian team. Whenever a bowler was hit out of the park or a batsman found himself bowled out, others would ridicule him to try to be a Bangladeshi team member rather than Indian. But when the match was beamed live on Max, the only happy moments for us were the extraa innings, where everyone could drool over Mandira Bedi and India winning the toss and electing to bat first, which was rather short-lived and then at the end turned out to be a topic of discussion. As the super strong batting line up (guess it looks that strong only on paper) of our team fell like a castle of cards brought down by the Bangladeshi storm, and as the wickets in the Bangladeshi team failed to fall down, my fellow martyrs gave up there hopes and fell cheaply to sleep. But me being the fighter that I am and my strong belief in destiny was the lone survivor, who saw the entire match with a hope of some miracle happening and Indian team winning. My prayers were not answered by the god, who I guess must have taken a break and went out to play cricket with his own team and was busy saving his team’s fortune. Man how badly I wanted India to win that match, not just for making it sure of the team reaching next stage but also be the only one watching a hat-trick or maybe two by someone in the team and make those so called die-hard fans envy me, for seeing it live when the history was being made and those good for nothing duds were snoring away to glory. Alas my dreams never came true. Just not my day, I thought and went to sleep again at 3.
On Sunday these guys thought they will strike back at me for waking them up last day and much to my agony and their pleasure didn’t let me sleep after 9. The whole day everyone was blurting out their anguish on the team and speculating how things should have been done. In evening, after one more game of cricket, when we returned back home, the horrifying news of demise of Mr. Woolmer gripped us. My condolences are with his family, for the irreparable loss. The world of cricket had lost an icon. He redefined the role and impact of the coach in the team’s success when he was with the South African team. I was thinking to myself, if the game in the subcontinent is now going to change after the loss of two giants of world cricket and the death of the Pakistani coach. But then again the game is much bigger than individuals or the team itself and the memory of fans down here is very short. Each big win or good performance will override the previous many losses or slump in form and vice-versa. And a recent example is the come back of Ganguly. Also the comeback of Sehwag in yesterday’s match might be a testimonial to this fact. Everyone I think must have been furious to see Sehwag in the line up before the match, after his poor form continued in the first match. But those same people must have been praising him and enjoying each shot of his in a well deserved century.
Monday morning was much calmer since few of them had to go for work, while the privileged ones, like me got a chance to catch up with much wanted sleepJ. After seeing off NN at the Central and hugging him a good-bye, I returned back home in the evening for yet another cricket match, where India was taking on debutants Bermuda. India breaks the world record for the highest number of runs in a world cup match to beat the blues out of minnows Bermuda and gave themselves some hope of making up to the next stage.
But will the margin of victory be good enough?
Will India beat the Sri Lankans handsomely too, like they broke their record yesterday?
Will the luck be on their side this time?
I hope and pray that the answers to all this is YES.
Please god before you get busy in another game of your own, answer my (and the whole nations) prayers this one last time.
Amen!