Home Diwali and... Chome Diwali!

One Christmas, one Ramzan, one Holi, one Ganesh Chathurthi, but two Diwalis... why?

Just watched the  #GharwaliDiwali film - the 'ghar' bit took me on a lateral trip back to my college days... (Oh and in case you haven't seen the film, here it is.) Back then, I was always wedged between two Diwalis - I'm going to call them 'Home Diwali' and 'Chome Diwali'. 

For some strange reason, South Indians (ok, let me be specific here - Illads/ Tamilians) always celebrate Diwali a day ahead of the rest. After having been cocooned in Chennai for 17 years, I made this life-altering discovery in BITS, when I realized that Home Diwali (the kind I celebrated at home) was actually a day before Chome Diwali - the Diwali celebrated in the northern part of India (and hence the Chome prefix - no offence intended). Whether it was because Rama came back to Ayodhya a day earlier or because Krishna killed Narakasura a day later, I could never say with authority. But the fact remained that it did change things for me in college. (Yup, we're getting to the life-altering bit.)

Diwali would happen bang in the middle of a test cycle. And we had a holiday only for Chome Diwali, which meant that not only was Home Diwali a working day, but we would also be writing a fricking test on that day. (All four years. Unfailingly. I wrote a test on Diwali. The fireworks would happen when I got my marks.) So, in addition to missing folks and home, one would also be Laplaced, Fouriered or Galileoed first thing on (Home) Diwali morning. 

Another remarkable difference was that Home Diwali would begin at four in the morning. (Again, it's not known if it's meant to sync with Lord Rama's early return or with Narakasura's graveyard shift demise.) And because one had woken up at such an unearthly hour, the day would be brought to an end by 10 pm or so. Of course, one would have managed to visit a temple (to have a darshan of God), a theatre (to have a darshan of our matinee idol), 12 neighbours and 300 relatives in between. 

In absolute contrast, Chome Diwali was all leisure and began by sundown - and boy, did the action heat up after that! In BITS, the mess would be closed and it would mean 2000 BITSians converging upon C'not for that paneer maggi/ dosa/ shake. And then hit the roads/ Nutan/ bottle or whatever it is that one hits after 10 on an awesomely cool night that's announcing the onset of winter. 

At half past one, another Diwali would have gone, another day would be just round the corner, another bottle would have been empty, but one would be thankful for the two-Diwali syndrome. Missing Home Diwali and the ensuing homesickness would make one feel gutted, but then, celebrating the day with 2000 other BITSians, at C'not, on the streets, in the wing (before the warden arrived), in the QT (after the warden arrived) and in every other part of campus would drive away all the blues. 

This was probably more memorable than all those Diwalis at home. It had a different kind of setting, a different kind of mood and a different set of emotions attached to it. But one just had to look a little closer to realise why one warmed up to Chome Diwali with such joy - after all, even 'chome' had 'home' in it. :)

Making wellness work…

HERE’S THE WISHING WELL, WISHING WELL…

Most of us spend a lifetime in the pursuit of wellness – at home, at the workplace, during vacations and even at strenuous family weddings. In the process, we are not only short of breath, but of answers too. But what if there were a wishing well that could enlighten us on the secrets of our well-being?

This is a new series where a Wishing Well plays Agony Aunt, with a twist. There are a couple of things you need to be ready with before you listen to some profound gyaan- a sense of humour and a pinch of salt.

Dear Wishing Well,

I've had it. I’m overworked, underpaid, short-changed, backstabbed and pushed around at the workplace. I've been slogging my backside off for years and the only thing I have to show for it is high BP. In fact, the kind of pressure that's bottled up inside me is so intense that if I had any ‘headweight’, I would have been called a pressure cooker. I must have been the only one who went into mourning when I figured out that Dec 21, 2012 wasn't the end of the world – that’s how bad things are. How do I change things at the workplace? 

How do I deal with this stress?

Yours enquiringly,

Bond Ed Leigh Burr

The Wishing Well responds thus:

Dear Bond Ed,

Stress at work is a lot like the common cold - the only way you can get rid of it is by passing it on to someone else. But to do that, you need to look for the ideal candidate. Here are six types of workplace irritants who are likely to make your life miserable – and appropriate wellness solutions for each of them.

1. Re-licks: They're the reason why the boss always looks like he's sat in a puddle – and thanks to their overactive salivary glands, they’ve been around in your organization for centuries.

Wellness solution: Switch off the lifts on health grounds - with them inside. So, while the rest of the office climbs stairs for exercise, Re-licks will be left climbing the walls.

2. Arty Fact: The name is actually a malapropism. Once you get that right, the rest would be self-explanatory.

Wellness solution: Make sure you serve health food at the workplace – it will give you an opportunity to yell for the nuts as soon as Arty Facts enter the conference room for a meeting. And peanuts will do - after all, you settle for it in the beginning of every month, don't you?

Serving nuts can also be a much-needed stress buster. During dreary presentations, you could have internal contests about throwing the peanuts up and catching them in your mouth. And during those long, unending year-end reviews, you could calm frayed nerves by making pea shooters out of rolled up sheets of paper and targeting people from other departments. The benefits of this exercise will be apparent every time the boss demands if you are going to meet the target – just aim for the back of his head and yell yes.

3. Cabin Baggage: Also known as senior management, this kind is nothing but baggage to your organization and works towards its ultimate goal –the corner cabin.

Wellness solution: Sleep deprivation can be a terrible thing, especially lack of sleep in the workplace– it can make the Cabin Baggage types very grouchy. Work towards providing the perfect ambience – dim lighting, hypnotic spiral images, beanbags and soothing pipe music wafting across the corridors of the office. Remember, the reason they say that sleep is the best cure for stress is because when the Cabin Baggage types sleep, you have no stress.

4. Fool's Cape: They think they are caped crusaders out to save the organization – the sad part is, they also think that they are too good to be working. (Superheroes don't work, you see - only their alter egos do.) A closer look at them would tell you that they should ideally exchange their cape for a cap–a dunce cap, to be specific.

Wellness solution: Your caped colleagues are extremely competitive and aggressive, so take advantage of it. Have blood pressure stations at work, with a giant mercury column on the wall on which everyone's readings can be marked with a fluorescent neon marker. Each week, there can be a BP ka Boss contest and the winner gets a mid-week dinner date – with the boss.

5. Carpetbaggers: They bag all the accolades, despite having evolved the practice of doing nothing into a fine art. All they do is wear the carpet threadbare, walking to and fro, talking into a mobile or carrying papers, and trying to look busy. Needless to say, both the call and the papers will be blank.

Wellness solution: The most irritating thing about Carpetbaggers is that they can smell work a mile away and promptly fall sick, leaving you to handle their work, in addition to yours. So, if you have a doctor friend, get him to cart along all the freebie medicines he would have received from medical reps - and conduct frequent vaccination drives at work. You can not only score brownie points with the management as the ‘employee healthcare package’ is being taken care of for free, but also ensure that your colleagues can never apply for sick leave now. For long, they've been a pain in your rear. Now, it's payback time - with a long needle and a massive syringe.

6. Carpet Bombers: The bad news is that they are senior to you. The worse news is that because of a secret pact with the management, their perks include bombing all your ideas, however good they are.

Wellness solution: Recommend Hot Yoga. (Nope, the name has nothing to do with the instructor - Hot Yoga is yoga done with the office AC switched off.) Carpet Bombers love the exotic, eccentric things in life, so this is just up their street. And when they are goaded into doing the supta padangustha nasa sparsasana or the adho mukha mandukasana with the mercury climbing to 44C, Carpet Bombers would have tied themselves into such knots that you’ll never ever suffer from loose ends when trying to tackle stress.

And since there’s a ‘buy-six, get-seven’ offer going on these days, here’s a wellness technique that you get to take home, absolutely free:

Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to Associates: Sporadic acts of kindness can also help generate goodwill and create positive energy, thereby bringing a sense of wellness to the workplace. So, from time to time, when you hear banging from a cabin or a toilet, unlock the door and let your colleague out.

Now go ahead and implement these wellness programmes in your organization. Chances are, even if you don’t fix your problems, you can fix the guys who cause it.

All the best!

(Published in Ashvarttha, The Wellness Magazine, Dec 13 - Jan 14 / Issue 1 / Volume 5)

When man made God...

Oh, the folly of making a boy a God before he can turn man - he's been paying the price for it ever since.

Dear Sachin worshipper,

On Oct 10, 2013, Alice Munro won the Nobel Prize in Literature. The Prime Minister of Libya was abducted and held, before being released. Malala Yousafzai won the European Union's human rights prize. Pervez Musharraf was arrested in Islamabad for the storming of the Red Mosque in 2007. A southern state continued to burn, the Indian Rupee weakened, and Cyclone Phailin was clocking almost 200 kms per hour as it tore up everything in its path. But chances are, you wouldn't be aware of any of them. To you, there was only one event that had occurred on that day - the Little Master had announced his retirement from Test cricket. (So it did turn out that the Mayans were right about the world coming to an end, didn’t it? Only it wasn't 2012, but a year later.)

Half the nation went into depression over his retirement. Eulogies poured in from all across the cricket-playing world. But while there were nostalgic quotes and encomiums from the highest quarters, it was not all sweet-sounding music that filled the air. There was the other half, which was simply relieved. There were also the unmistakable voices complaining about an end that should have come sooner. These voices, ranging from ‘at last’ to ‘thank goodness’, marred the proceedings. And I bring this to your notice because you are responsible for it.

It is very interesting to note how we, despite having numerous religions and a multitude of Gods, still look to create idols amongst men, by putting them on a pedestal, and by worshipping them. And by doing that, we deny them their basic right – the right to be human, and to fail at times.

Call him old, call his hand-eye coordination jaded, call him out of form, but it has to be said that even during the worst of times, he has been able to hold his own. And yet, there were loud jeers when he chose to continue after all those who came into the limelight much after him had retired. There were the usual debates about him playing for records and not for his team. There were the voices of dissent that criticized him for not being a big-match player.

His problems went beyond age and his failures on the field – they had more to do with the fact that you deified him and elevated him to a position above mortals. There's not a stadium in the country where he has not been declared a God of a religion called cricket. But then, Gods have to perform miracles all the time. Gods cannot fail. Gods would have to be more punctual than superheroes in saving the world. And where there are worshippers, there are bound to be the atheists, whose sole focus in life would be to disprove the existence of God.

And that was how you, who wished to project him in a larger-than-life image, ended up making him the target of those who were critical of a willow-wielding God in their midst. To them, it was understandable if Lara didn't pull his team out of a hole whenever they caved in. Ponting could lose two Ashes series in a short span and expect to go back to a home where the glass windows were still intact. But your God had none of these luxuries. He was omnipresent – he was both on a pedestal as well as under a microscope. And you put him there.

Because you made him God, the detractors waited to prove you – and him – wrong. Because God would always have to be on their side – the winning side. It didn't matter that he took the team all the way into the finals of the 2003 World Cup. God was supposed to have scored a 100 in the finals as well. It didn't matter that he stood out in many an overseas tour as the only player to have notched up 50s and 100s – God didn't get his team to win.

You can argue that cricket is a team game and that the other 10 needed to take up responsibility as well. But that would apply only to a team comprising 11 mortals, not 10 mortals and a God.

You can close your ears, but you cannot shut out the noise from the naysayers, a terribly distracting cacophony that outshouts the lovely paeans of praise being sung, much like a local loudspeaker disturbing the harmony of an opera in progress. He doesn't deserve it. He deserves better than a divided house where the question 'Why?' being asked by half the population is being drowned out by a resounding 'Why not?' from the other half.

If only you had stayed a fan instead of becoming a worshipper. If only you had let him remain a legend instead of making him God.

Yours sincerely,

A disappointed cricket fan.

(Published in The Hindu Sunday Supplement on 20 October, 2013)

It’s a bird, it’s a plane - it’s just a man!

Pic courtesy: The Hindu

L Suresh visits an era in which superheroes wear blue, red, green, yellow and black, but display only one shade – grey.

Two little boys were hiding behind a barrel, watching their fruit-seller dad being pounded to pulp by the street thugs. He hadn't paid the mafia its cut, parts of which would go to the boss, the local politician, government officials, law enforcement officers, judges and everyone else who was on the take. With tear-laden eyes and fear-stricken hearts, the young duo shrank back into their hiding place, waiting for the goons to disappear with their father's earnings. Tonight, there would be no supper. And tomorrow, if their dad didn't pay up, there would be no shop either.

What those kids – and the rest of the world – needed was a comforting thought that they could go to bed with. One promising them that tomorrow would be better, that the bad guys could get beaten, that someone stronger would come and fight evil, that fathers could tend to their business without being bludgeoned into handing over their earnings to the underworld.

While this could have been the opening scenes of a superhero story, it was reality back in the late 20s and the early 30s, when the United States had a huge fall from the heady heights of economic progress and went into a tailspin. It is ironical that prohibition was brought into effect in the 1920s to eliminate the evils of alcohol, like corruption, crime, poverty, violence and a debauched society, because it brought in the evils of bootlegging and spurious hooch - corruption, crime, poverty, violence and a debauched society.

Thus, a massive stock market crash had brought in much grief and the great depression, political decisions had ushered in prohibition - and poverty had introduced crime. The United States found itself shackled, handcuffed and strait-jacketed, all at the same time. And it would take magic of Houdini-esque proportions to come out of it.

Come 1933, a new government would begin infusing life into the economy, but people needed a little spark that would rekindle hope in their hearts, assuring them that all would be well. Their prayers were answered with more than a spark - what ensued was an explosion in a faraway planet named Krypton. And a little space shuttle found its way to earth, lodging itself in a little field in Kansas. Blue and red, the united colours of America, now stood for a saviour, one who could straighten anything from a crooked rail track to a crooked mind, and who fought for the downtrodden and oppressed, ensuring that justice prevailed.

Superman was immediately followed by Batman, Captain Marvel, the Green Lantern and a galaxy of other superheroes. While the superheroes were attired in an eclectic mix of colours, the stories were all black and white. The plots were simple - it was good versus evil, there would be no cross overs and good would always triumph. The superhero's alter ego would either be a dead ringer for Mr. Bean, a bumbling, inept, clueless friendly idiot, or Sir Percy Blakeney, the dashing playboy from The Scarlet Pimpernel. Crime would never pay. And the good, harmless, innocent people would always be saved in the end.

‘Saved in the end’ was the operative phrase that lifted a nation's spirits. Across generations, they took to the tales like repentant smokers to a nicotine patch. Soon, with each passing decade, memories of fear and suffering faded away, and subsequent generations disinherited the scarred legacy of their ancestors. To them, America was always the land of opportunity, where everyone owned houses, drove in cars and had weekend barbecue parties in their backyards. So, who needed superheroes? Besides, who on earth would believe in men flying around in ridiculous costumes? Superheroes were soon relegated to story-telling sessions for children - adults had no use for them.

But evolution is not always a good thing. And not fixing something when it isn't broke isn't such a bad thing either. Unfortunately, our superheroes, who had successfully warded off ageing, fashion trends, technology (don't point to the batmobile - it made its first appearance in 1939) and makeovers over the decades, met their nemesis when the publishers decided to update the psychographics of the caped crusaders to suit the tastes of modern audiences. So, from giving mankind hope to live through the era of corruption and the great depression, the superheroes, until then beacons of hope for the downtrodden, ended up being reflections of today's complex, dysfunctional generation.

Batman's alter ego became a playboy who would enjoy heady nights and suffer terrible hangovers the morning after. Spiderman began to secretly enjoy the dark side to his arachnid powers. Superman had to contend with a complicated romance, his feelings for another man's wife and worse, a child born out of wedlock. Iron Man's inner self - Tony Stark - had to battle alcoholism, Captain America went under the influence of meth, Robin got insanely addicted to violence and the Human Torch's bisexuality has become an ongoing topic for online banter.

Perhaps the changing times necessitated new-age personas - not the kinds that people would look up to, but the kinds that people would identify with. The result? Mighty men, whose hands trembled without their regular fix, superheroes who found themselves in confusing relationships, and protectors and avengers who, when they were not fighting monsters and aliens, were fighting their own inner demons.

Hindu mythology defines the four major yugas (epochs) as satya yuga, where there was only good, treta yuga where both good and bad existed, but were kept away from each other, dwapara yuga where good and bad had to coexist in the same paradigm and kali yuga, the present age, where the bad existed inside every good and the good inside every bad. One will never know if the images of a young Krishna holding the Govardhan hill on his little finger or of Hanuman uprooting Mount Sanjeevani and flying off with it inspired the creators of superheroes halfway across the world, but they sure seem to have taken the concept of kali yuga rather seriously. As a result, the Jekyll-Hyde syndrome has been turned on its head - Jekyll has become a badass with a history of substance abuse and when he's not busy imbibing this or inhaling that, he turns into his other badass version - Hyde. And that brings back the 1930s all over again. It's once again time for children to go and hide.

Choosing the 15

Image courtesy: www.cricinfo.com

What could be tougher than choosing 15 players? Choosing 15 rules, says L Suresh.

January 17, 2011. Chennai. The selection committee, its Chairman and a few BCCI officials - vice presidents, secretaries, the joint secretary, treasurer, lackeys, spokespersons, zonal representatives and the like – comprised the 20-member committee that would shortly select 15 members for the Indian cricket team, to play in the World Cup. All of them had their agenda on a sheet of paper, neatly typed and filed in a plastic folder on the table before them. 15 of them would get a chance to choose one player each. Of the remaining five, three were to choose the menu for the day. The other two would get to pick the airline in which they would all head back to their respective cities.

But these choices were secondary. They had a more important task ahead of them – they had to pick 15 rules that the BCCI would then shove down the throat of the ICC.

“15 rules? Why do we have to do that?” asked a selector. “Aren’t we here to select 15 players for our team?”

“That’s right, but we have also been asked to choose 15 rules that will make the World Cup very India-friendly,” responded an official.

“But I thought the objective was to make India friendly for fans from the world over,” began another selector.

“The tourism department will take care of that. Our job is to ensure that our players find the World Cup friendly,” replied the official.

“But why?”

“Look, Sachin has made it clear that he will not retire without winning a World Cup. The next World Cup will be held in Australia and you can bet your last IPL dollar that they will ensure fast, bouncy tracks – you know how our boys fare on such surfaces… He will be 42 then. The World Cup in 2019 will be played in England and God knows if we will have the team to handle the swing like Kapil and his boys did. He will be 46 then. If we still don’t get to win the World Cup, he will look forward to the 2023 World Cup when he will be 50 – by then his son Arjun will be in the team and we will…”

“Ok, we get the message. So what now?”

“We have to win the 2011 World Cup – at all costs.”

The operative word was ‘costs’. Every member at the table was all ears. The official continued. “So what are the rules that will help us win the World Cup?”

One of the vice presidents piped up. “But will the other countries – and specially the ICC – agree if we change the rules for this world cup?”

The official remained unruffled. “Why not? We changed the rules of the IPL at will. We created auctions for players to be sold instead of being selected. We ensured that teams would be owned by companies instead of being sponsored by them. We stopped play for ads and called them strategy breaks. We brought in the ropes and had shorter boundaries. Nobody questioned us then. Why should they do so now? Besides, all of us know that the BCCI is not part of the ICC – on the contrary, the ICC is part of the BCCI, though in a reversed sequence. So they will not ask questions. And,” he gave a Godfather-like pause, “neither should you.”

There was silence in the room.

“We’ll have your suggestions now.” And each member gave his suggestion which was, in turn, converted into a rule.

Rule 1: Each match would feature two pitches so that India can bat on a flat wicket and bowl on a dusty one. (If the World Cup in ’92 could have two balls per team, why not two pitches?)

Rule 2: Bouncers will only be allowed at post-match parties and will not be a part of the match. (If cheergirls have no place in cricket, shouldn’t bouncers be banned too?) So fast bowlers who bowl bouncers will not feature in any further matches and will have to restrict their presence to performing at the parties.

Rule 3: Any ball above the waist will be a no-ball. To determine this, the waist of the shortest member of the Indian team will be taken into account, preferably Sachin or Raina.

Rule 4: Allrounders – especially fast bowling allrounders - will not be allowed in any match (since we don’t have one). However, they can make their money by sitting in the studios with Kapil Paaji and commenting on the day’s play.

Rule 5: Since the average speed allowed in most roads in India is only 40 kmph, similar speed limits will be exercised in cricket matches to ensure that the game isn’t a bad influence on the younger generation. However, the only exception to this rule would be during the powerplays when the bowlers can operate at speeds of 60kmph.

Rule 6: With the IPL beginning just days after the World Cup, Indian players will play all their matches – including the final – before March 15 so that they have enough rest before the IPL begins.

Rule 7: Any player who has been signed up for more than a million in the IPL will be allowed to name a substitute player who can take his place in the match whenever he feels the need for it.

Rule 8: Instead of UDRS, all the referrals will be done by the public through sms contests. So, if a majority of the Indian public feel that Sachin is not out – he will be declared not out. But this facility will be available only in India, so fans of other teams will not be able to participate.

Rule 9: Slide stops will be banned while fielding. All teams will instruct their fielders to run after the ball and stop it if they can, Indian style.

Rule 10: Considering the fact that Sholay was released in the same year as the first World Cup in 1975, the coincidence will be celebrated with Dhoni being honoured with the Sholay coin (with heads on both sides) that he can use for the toss. Besides, it’s only the Indian team that has both Viru (Sehwag) and Jai (Jaidev Unadkat, who unfortunately will not play the World Cup) – so they qualify on both counts.

Rule 11: If India are dismissed in 20 overs (or thereabouts), the game will automatically be recalibrated into a Twenty20 game so that the other team does not have an undue advantage.

Rule 12: India is a country of 1.2 billion people while Netherlands on the other hand, has a population of just around 16.5 million. So, having the same number of players per team is not fair. While the game will be played as per rules with one bowler and a batsman at either end, the number of fielders allowed on the field will be proportionate to the population of the country that the team hails from.

Rule 13: In case of rain, every member of the Indian team will be allotted flood relief measures of 25 runs and 2 wickets which he can use in any future match, at his discretion.

Rule 14: As a precautionary marketing clause, any Indian batsman whose ad appears before an over cannot be dismissed or given out during that over as the brand will suffer from his poor performance.

Rule 15: As the Indian team is being forced to play all its matches (barring one) on weekends because of TRP demands, the results of these matches should go in favour of the home team for its sportive gesture, as the rest of the country would be putting its feet up and watching TV.

10 teams + 10 commandments = Twenty20

Image Courtesy: www.travelpod.com

L Suresh examines the 10 commandments that emerged from the IPL auction.

A weekend when adults played monopoly. A shopping spree when some players became much sought-after possessions while others were treated like perishable items in a distress sale. A frosty winter session when cold, calculative minds advised billionaires on how to create millionaires out of young cricketers. 14 hours when heroes were brought down and their younger replacements unveiled.

12 cricketers retained. A further 127 sold (or bought, depending on whom your sympathies are with). 215 sent back home with their price tags still stuck to their backsides. (“Do they have to come in and stand in the room when they are being auctioned?” an uninformed friend asked me.)

One sweeping look at the 10 huddles across the room (anything more than a split-second glance would have been a waste of time as the scenery stayed the same for 13 hours and 58 minutes – the two minutes of dissonance occurred when Sidhartha Mallya went across to the Kings XI table to wage war over a youngster to whom at least two franchisees were ready to hand their future over to.) would have conveyed the prevailing mood amongst various camps – unlike the first bidding session, there were to be no sacred cows, only cash cows. God, King Midas and the Butcher were already held back by their teams. The rest would now contest for their Hummers and farmhouses.

Finally, as the dust settled, one did not get the feeling of having witnessed a Greek epic. But the makings of a Bollywood potboiler were there, alright. There was great tragedy, action, slapstick comedy, euphoria, money bags, anti-climaxes, sub-plots, a mammoth star cast… and a grand finale when everyone goes home happy humming the familiar song that gives all lost and found sequences a happy ending - ‘We are family’.

Surprisingly, the auction also left behind a message – to be specific, 10 of them.

1. You shall not change a winning combination

It's the oldest rule in the cricketing book. That's exactly what the Chennai Superkings – and to an extent, Mumbai Indians, did. And by doing so, they were not only reuniting players who had played together, they were also bringing back the team that had won together.

2. You shall not make changes for the sake of making changes

Why did the Deccan Chargers not retain Adam Gilchrist, Rohit Sharma, Andrew Symonds and Ryan Harris? Why did the Royal Challengers let go of Dale Steyn and Ross Taylor, or the Delhi Daredevils, Gautam Gambhir and Dirk Nannes? More importantly, do they believe that they have got equivalent or better replacements in players like Morne Morkel and Aaron Finch?

Sweeping changes, fresh starts and clean slates may work well for election campaigns, but seldom do in team selection. For one, a new team with people speaking different languages will take time to settle down together. Creating a team culture, understanding strengths and weaknesses, complementing one another on the field, finding the best combination, working out strategies based on the men at one's disposal – half the IPL would be over by the time this checklist is completed.

Kochi and Pune don't have a choice in the matter. Kings XI and Knightriders would possibly have wanted to make big changes after having found themselves not only at the bottom of the barrel, but also in the midst of controversies. But as for the other six teams, the prudent thing would have been to create an existing nucleus and build a team around them. Instead, they pressed the plunger and ripped existing teams to smithereens.

3. You shall swallow your pride, even if you’ve won the ashes

Brendon McCullum goes for $475,000 while Uthappa goes for $2,000,000. Brad Haddin goes for $325,000 while Dinesh Karthik fetched $900,000, a figure that bracketed him with another keeper, Gilchrist. Sreesanth's performance in South Africa works in his favour, but an English win down under does nothing for the Queen's men. As far as the auctions went, they were dubbed the barmy army – a bunch of players who were nuts if they thought if they would get the kind of base prices that they had quoted.

As for other foreign players, the menu was bitter right through – besides swallowing pride, they had to eat crow, some humble pie and for the betting kind, their hats too. The West Indian batting trio of Lara, Chanderpaul and Sarwan, Lankan legends like Vaas and Jayasuriya, and of course, James Anderson and Graeme Swann who are still dusting the ashes from their cricketing whites will now follow the IPL Season 4 from vantage points in their living rooms.

4. You shall aim for the future, even if you don’t know where it is

Saurabh Tiwary ($1,600,000). Dan Christian ($900,000). Umesh Yadav ($750,000). Obviously there were team think-tanks out there that saw things that the rest of us mortals didn't. Whether these are the players who will become the stars of IPL Seasons 4, 5 and 6 remains to be seen. It began as speculative bidding. Let’s hope that it does not end as retirement benefits. Moral of the story: If the team's think-tank doesn't think, the team will tank...

5. You shall not fit square pegs into round holes, but you can fit allrounders anywhere

The last time Irfan Pathan played a test was in 2008. He showed up for his last ODI in Feb 2009 and for his last T20 match, four months later. It's almost been a year since he's featured in a domestic match. And yet, when the clarion call for an allrounder was sounded, Delhi Daredevils saw him larger-than-life and downloaded a cartful of dollars - $1,900,000 to be precise - on his lap. Other teams clamoured for allrounders too. Abhishek Nayar went at $800,000, Ravindra Jadeja at $950,000, Angelo Mathews at $950,000 and of course, Yusuf Pathan – he of the recent Kiwi carnage in Bengaluru – for $2,100,000. One just hopes that the franchises are understanding enough to give their allrounders enough time to count the dollars before they can land up for the games.

6. You shall not throw money around, but overthrows are allowed

What do you do when you release a rarely used player from your fold? Simple, you buy him for 4.5 times the amount. That's what the Rajasthan Royals – the team that came in with a little legal hole in their purse which drained them of a couple of millions even before the auctions began – did when they bought back Johan Botha for $950,000. Team Kochi meanwhile decided that local flavour was worth any amount and went into an aggressive price war for Sreesanth who was finally bought at $900,000. Venugopala Rao for $700,000 brings a familiar question always asked in cricketing circles – is he related, by any chance?

7. You shall not listen to ex-cricketers; they are good for action, not auction

What's common to Darren Lehman, Geoff Marsh, Geoff Lawson and Michael Bevan, besides the fact that they're all Australian? And the fact that they have all tasted success at the highest form, both as players and as coaches? All of them froze like deer caught in headlights when the auction was on, leaving their lesser competent team-members to wreak havoc with the numbers and team composition. Would Bevan be able to explain Piyush Chawla's $900,000 price tag? Or would Lawson be able to expect much from a bowling attach comprising Sreesanth, R P Singh, Ramesh Powar and Vinay Kumar? Surely Marsh hasn't seen rare footage of Uthappa that we seem to have missed, for him to be bought at $2,100,000?

Looking at performance of the Australian players in the Ashes, you would think that as a cricketing nation, they’ve lost the plot. Looking at their ex-players performing at the IPL auction, you’re sure of it.

8. You shall stay away from controversial players; learn to differentiate between good buys and good-byes

One of the first items in the clean-up agenda adopted by various franchises was to get rid of controversies and those who caused it. While a diktat seemed to have been issued against Gibbs (post his autobiography), others like Gayle who found themselves in the center of the tornado at KKR simply found no takers. Surely performance could have nothing to do with this – while Gayle remained unsold at the auction, in another hemisphere, he was stirring up a performance worthy of his name, slamming 32 off an over in the Twenty20 Big Bash match between Western Australia (whom he played for) and NSW.

Of course, the buzz for the weekend for all news channels was the total, unemotional and comprehensive send-off that Sourav was given. While 10 franchises heaved a sigh of relief that he wasn’t brought back into the auction a second time, a different kind of heaving was witnessed in the east as Kolkata played the angry mother, nostrils flared and chest heaving, indignant that her favourite son was being given a raw deal.

A whole city got together to damn the franchises. The teams however, gave a damn.

9. You shall make as many confounding decisions in two days before the BCCI takes over for the rest of the year

If Deccan Chargers play on till the finals, they stand to lose their wicketkeeper-captain and leading batsman as Sri Lanka’s tour of England would be underway by then, leaving Sangakkara and Kevin Pietersen to make an airdash so that they slip into their cricketing whites just in time for the first test. Delhi Daredevils went through 350 players and finally chose one part-time spinner in Roelof van der Merwe, knowing very well how crucial spin would be in India. Kings XI Punjab bought a second wicketkeeper (Dinesh Karthik) for $900,000 despite having invested in a keeper-captain (Adam Gilchrist) for the same amount. Rajasthan Royals didn’t bother shopping for a keeper at all. Meanwhile, Kings XI Punjab and the Deccan Chargers saved up over $2,000,000 for reasons known only to them. And then those confounding decisions on paying Indian pacers (and spinner, if you include Piyush Chawla) huge sums with no guarantee of their performance.

It was as if Mr. Bean, Jacques Clouseau, and the Dumb and Dumber duo were competing with one another at the auctions. Sadly, the show could last for just two days.

10. You shall spend as if there is no tomorrow… because there really may be no tomorrow if you are RR, KXI or Kochi

The next edition of the auction could well happen at the ICC headquarters, in Dubai, to coincide with the Dubai shopping festival. Looking at the way most franchises splurged, you would think that they were sure of the world coming to an end much before 2012. Can’t blame them though. Till the very end, there were franchises that were more worried about fitting into the IPL’s scheme of things before they figured out the players who would fit into their team.

11. You shall select allrounders if you must, but not multi-faceted players

Well, considering the fact that there are only 10 commandments, this is more a comment than a commandment. Players will multiple skills were definitely preferred by most franchises, but Iain O’Brien was rejected for this precise reason. He was not only a gifted cricketer, but also a terrific blogger.

The point was, no franchise was willing to be the starting point for a new blog on the IPL, this time titled ‘Real IPL Player’.

The darker side of cricket

(Image courtesy: New Indian Express)

‘Save Melbourne, target Brabourne’ seems to be the mantra of the Australian media. L Suresh reports.

“Silly us, here we were thinking Indian crowds making monkey gestures to Andrew Symonds was something that fell under the International Cricket Council's anti-racism code.” These are the opening lines of an article titled ‘India makes monkey of racism row’ by Peter Lalor, in The Australian. While adding that ‘Indian denials of the racist incident contain a number of lines of thought that range from ridiculous to ignorant’, he also goes on to say that “Indians claim that monkey chanting is unknown as a racist slur in this country.”

While monkey calls, hoots and references to various members of the simian family are commonplace in countries where racism is prevalent, despite what the Australian press thinks, it is uncommon in India. Monkey chants can be heard from errant schoolboys in classrooms, from Romeos hanging outside Mumbai locals, from little children visiting zoos and trying to excite the chimps, but it has never been heard inside a stadium. And with the ample coverage that the Vadodara incident received, it had to be tried out by some smart alec spectator. And that was what the world got to see at the Wankhede Stadium in Mumbai.

“Soccer crowds are notorious for monkey chants to black players... It happened in April in Slovakia. It happens in Spain, Scotland, everywhere, apparently, but India. Rich and even lower middle-class Indians would know this. English soccer is a staple on television here.” Monkey chants to black players happens in Germany, Slovakia, Spain, Scotland, everywhere but India. True again. Perhaps things take time coming here - even American Idol’s Indian version took a couple of years coming to India. Perhaps in a few years, the lower middle-class will be hooked on to English football as well.

Raucous crowd behaviour is universal and India is no exception to it. There have been instances in the Asian countries when matches have been called off due to crowd disturbances. The third one-dayer between India and Pakistan in Karachi during the 1989-90 series was abandoned as the home team crumbled to 28 for 3 and the crowds decided that they would do a better job of ‘occupying the crease’. During the 1996 World Cup semi-finals, it was the turn of the Indian crowds to step in and control the proceedings at the Eden Gardens as India lost to Sri Lanka. A 90,000-strong crowd had to be evicted from the same venue during the Asian Test Championship in 1999, a because of rioting in the stadium.

There have been many more instances of bottles, orange peel, stones and worse thrown into grounds, of captains leading their teams off the field to safer parts of the stadium and of fielders patrolling the boundary ropes with helmets to avoid guided missiles from the stands. Such incidents are a result of a misplaced zeal for the game or a sense of frustration at seeing the home team fare poorly - but racism? That's a new one.

The standing ovation that the Pakistani team received at Chepauk in 1999 during its victory lap is still being talked about. The greatest cricketers of the world - Ian Botham, Vivian Richards, and more recently, the likes of Lara and Pieterson - have been the darlings of the crowds here. Even the likes of Miandad and Akram were respected for what they were and what they could do to us on their day.

That's the reason why the allegations of racism in the stands come as a surprise. Why would we do something like that? Most nations with a multiracial population have had to battle the issues of colour - and in cricket, it has been countries like Australia, South Africa and England that have had to tackle racism internally. Other cricketing nations – read Asian - have only been at the receiving end of all the barbs and attacks.

In India, being dark has, for long, seriously impacted marriages and career prospects in showbiz. This colour difference has even led to the north-south divide amongst certain sections of society, which, in sport, has given rise to several controversies relating to matters of selection, captaincy, posts and individual state associations. But never has it coloured the spirit with which spectators have watched the game.

So why did this series become the stage for all the key issues that Australia has been accused of so far? Be it on-field aggression, sledging or racism, seven one-day internationals ended up being the battleground for many concerns that we have never been associated with. And in a fortnight, the idiom 'pot calling the kettle black' virtually became a punctuation mark in all forms of media coverage of the current one day series. Enough and more images were played and replayed to rekindle public memory of Sharad Pawar's gentle send-off by Damien Martyn, of Amla's 'terrorist' epithet by Dean Jones, of McGrath's outburst targeted at Sarwan and of the Aussie crowds heckling every player who wasn't white.

According to Roshan Mahanama, an Australian player once referred to Sanath Jayasuriya as ‘black monkey’. How did the Australian media handle that one? John Rhodes, an ICC official was punched by a spectator in Melbourne because he was ‘accused’ of being South African. Darren Lehmann once referred to the Sri Lankan team using even more derogative language. The penalty? A five-match ban. Shouts of ‘black *****’, ‘kaffirs’ and ‘kaffir boeties’ were rampant in various stadiums during the South African tour in 2006. Reportedly, five spectators were ejected. So much for the power of five.

The fact that almost every country has suffered during a Down Under tour is a fact conveniently forgotten by Australian media as it furiously researches on facts on the 'Hindu monkey god' and of chants in Indian languages. Could this just be the Aussie way of taking the spotlight away from the ruckus that is likely to happen when Sri Lanka (and later India) tours Down Under?

On the field, Murali will be a threat to the Aussie batsmen with his indecipherable turn, but on the other side of the ropes, a horde of Aussie fans will pose a serious threat to him. They will not want him to overtake Warne's record and will possibly do anything to discourage him from doing that. Anything, from a chorus of 'no-ball' every time he comes in to bowl to racist chants. With ample precedents already having been set, attempts to control this crowd will be a near-impossible task. It is a laughable matter when Cricket Australia points to close circuit cameras that will catch people in action if and when they indulge in racist acts. When you can hear the shouts of 'no-ball' miles away from the stadium and yet cannot take on a 50,000-strong crowd, how will close circuit cameras help? Will the Australian authorities be able to take stringent action and forcibly remove a stadium full of people? Will they let a test match be played to empty stands, like we did in 1999?

The only way to get away from under the microscope is to shove something else under it. That's exactly what has happened now. Instead of debates on what is likely to happen in Australia in a few weeks, the cricketing world is agog with news of racism that is rampant across India and how it is doing the Mexican wave across stands in every stadium.

In a way, we helped them along the way in this shift in focus. With the Indians determined to match the Aussie aggression, the Australian team and the media screamed blue murder as they realized what was happening. For a whole week, cricket was forgotten and the sports pages were full of Sreesanth's hostility and Harbhajan's verbal war. That was the perfect opening for a coup. ‘Indian team, sledgers. Indian crowds, racist.’ The theme for the series was complete. And it has been well executed.

Andrew Symonds had fired the first salvo even before the series had begun about how India had gotten 'carried away with its Twenty20 celebrations' and how something had 'sparked inside him'. There could hardly have been a better way to spark off a controversy and provoke a billion-strong cricket following as they celebrated success that was coming their way after 24 long years. Then came those showdowns with Sreesanth, he of the an-eye-for-an-eye, a-stare-for-a-stare fame. Obviously, millions across the country have been following all of it. And have predictably sided with the home side. And so Symonds finds himself isolated for all the comments, catcalls, criticism - and the controversial monkey chants.

The whole Brabourne episode seems like nothing more than the outcome of the media coverage of ‘monkey business’ in the Vadodara match. A handful of spectators wanted to get on camera with what they thought would be a smart thing to do. Obviously they had no idea that for days after, they would still not come off the newspapers and news channels.

“INDIAN fans turned on Australia in Mumbai last night, bombarding all-rounder Andrew Symonds with graphic racial taunts and personal abuse” was how the Herald Sun put it. “A deafening torrent of abuse followed the batsman of the series out to the middle. Many spectators jumped up and down like gorillas, spewed vitriol and made animal noises.” Bombarded with graphic racial taunts. Many spectators jumping up and down like gorillas. Borrowing from Sunil Gavaskar’s comments on Matt Prior who was appealing endlessly during the England series, “Which game were they following?”

Racism is dirty business that only people with coloured minds and delusions of their own superiority indulge in. It is obvious that it has to be cleaned up whenever it rears its ugly head, wherever it is found. Only we are looking for it in the wrong places.

(Appeared in the New Indian Express Sunday Supplement as 'Spectators will be spectators' on 28 October, 2007)

Great Ball of Fire

(Image courtesy: New Indian Express)

L Suresh looks at the key ingredient that was missing from Indian cricket for a long time – aggression.

A long, long time ago, a fireball exploded, resulting in a 'cosmic explosion' that hurled matter in all directions. And that was how the universe was said to be born. Had this been in a cricket field, it would have taken a Chappell or a Waugh to package it as an Australian phenomenon and coin a catch-phrase like 'concordant annihilation', explaining how eleven Aussies would team up to get on the nerves of a player until he exploded under the pressure. But luckily for the rest of the world, it was not to be and a Belgian called it the Big Bang.

The Big Bang may never be proved, but it has proved to be one heck of an expression to say that sometimes, it takes an extreme step for new life to begin. Such a step invariably shocks and stuns, but it succeeds in calling attention to a problem that no one paid heed to before. The world of cricket has had its own share of Big Bangs - the Bodyline series that led to changes in the laws of cricket, the Basil D'Oliveira affair that put South Africa's apartheid ways in the spotlight and ostracized the country from the cricketing circles, the 1981 underarm ball by Trevor Chappell at the behest of his brother Greg after which it was banned by the ICC, the repeated no-balling of Muralitharan by Darrell Hair that eventually led to the 15 degree rule and of course, Kerry Packer's famous brush with the cricket authorities over telecast rights that led to the birth of World Series Cricket.

Indian cricket has however, managed to stay clear of all these controversies. For a country that is a cauldron of raging passions and volatile temperaments, we have, in the world of cricket, swayed and ducked to steer clear of all bouncers. We played four spinners so we would never be tempted to use the bodyline strategy. We were the first to tour South Africa in 1992-93 for the Friendship Series that ended with us winning friends and the Proteas, the series. We showed that we harboured no ill-feelings towards Chappell by appointing him our coach. We didn’t go up in arms when Harbhajan’s doosra was suspected, despite having witnessed Arjuna Ranatunga’s vocal support of Muralitharan during the Hair episode. And we have witnessed the birth of the ICL, considered by some as a home-grown version of Kerry Packer's League.

Against a setting this pleasant and politically correct comes a youngster who seems to have had enough of trudging to a stadium, getting beaten and trudging back, only to live another day. Unlike the Big Three or the Fab Four or any other combination of battle-scarred veterans who have never held a World Cup in their hands, Shanthakumaran Sreesanth has had a taste of what it takes to be on top of the world – and on top of a double-decker bus. That’s the reason why it’s not difficult to understand his reluctance to go back to the shoulder drooping, losing ways of Indian cricket – after being feted by governments and millions of fans alike.

The recent Twenty20 victory finally gave the Indian cricket fan a reason to justify his excesses as he cheered and backed a team that beat Pakistan, England, South Africa and Australia in the space of a fortnight. In the light of our recent wins, Sreesanth's show of aggression on the field and his display of what the media calls 'unsportsmanlike behaviour' seems more like the reflection of a nation's frustration as we find ourselves slipping back to our old habit of freefall the moment we reach the top. Soon after the Twenty20 World Cup win, Kapil Dev, in one of the news channels, wasted no time in reminding the nation of the humiliation suffered by his team at the hands of the Windies - smarting under their ‘83 World Cup loss, they came at us like a pack of blood-thirsty hounds that was not fed for weeks. 24 years later, as we relive the euphoria of a World Cup, we are hurtling towards the possibility of a similar disaster.

For decades, the Indian cricket fan has been desensitized by the wins and losses of the team and has been conditioned to follow the starry exploits and antics of his idol. For long, India has endured pot-bellied spinners who applauded batsmen as they hoicked them for sixes. For long, we have shamelessly celebrated the odd series win outside home and fondly referred to it for years.

In the last few days, all that seems to have changed. There was positive aggression shown by the Indian team during the Twenty20 World Cup. Quick singles, agile pick and throws, athletic fielding, accurate bowling (16 of our 49 wickets were a result of the batsman being bowled) and of course, the mandatory glares, meaningful exchanges and the verbal volleys – the Indian team did everything right to flash the message across that they meant business. Flintoff would have regretted ever having picked a bone with Yuvraj that fateful evening – moments later, Yuvraj would let it inspire him to break loose in what would be known for long as that one over of mayhem.

So suddenly, records, tons and runs aren’t so important. Experience can be jettisoned, according to the Chairman of the Selectors. Indian cricket's all about Yuvraj's sixes, Dhoni's cool demeanour, R P Singh's swing, Rohit Sharma's late assault - and of course, Sreesanth's aggression.

Of the lot, the last mentioned has been castigated as the bane of Indian cricket today. To start with, everyone who thinks so should be forced to watch reruns of matches featuring India in the 90s when the team featured shy pacers who would have stared at their shoes for such a major part of their playing career that they could have bored holes through them for the big toe to pop out. Drooping shoulders, exasperated looks alternated with a grimace, a feeling of relief than that of celebration at the fall of a wicket - and zero batting and fielding abilities was the package we had to live with.

In a different era and in a different game, two men set trends through the manner in which they approached the game. Both played to win, but the manner in which they went about it gave relief to a million writers who were still fumbling with clichéd phrases - like chalk and cheese, black and white, and day and night - that described diametrically opposite forces. So, there was the Ivan Lendl kind of game - play hard and play to win. Enter the nearest phone booth before the start of every match, dish out some superhero stuff in quiet confidence and once the job is done, go back to being mortal - until the next match begins. And then there was the John McEnroe style of playing – the glam boy image of Rocky Balboa, the flair of Pele and the aggression of a Muhammad Ali, all rolled into one. Strut it out, and amidst all the euphoria and adulation, churn out a remarkable victory.

It’s obvious that the Aussies have preferred the second route, but you have to give it to them to package everything with a rationale and a buzzword that sounds like a cross between a management mantra and a scientific process. So blatant sledging would become mental disintegration and with that christening, it gets pulled out of the hooligan's dictionary and enters the intelligent cricketer's vocabulary because it's no longer verbal warfare, but a well-thought out gameplan.

Ricky Ponting has not only commented on the recent ‘verbal warfare’ on the field, but has also permitted himself to present a white paper on Indian behaviour - on how the Indians were not playing true to character. Symonds, not to be left out, decided to get riled about the Indians going overboard in their celebrations post the Twenty20 victory, contrasting the same with the humble way in which the Aussies celebrated. All one can say is that Symonds probably never had to fix broken panes or worry about the safety of his family after a loss. Neither will he know what it feels like to win a major tournament after 24 years.

As a nation, we are an emotional lot, not given to subtleties. And that comes as part of the whole package, whether one likes it or not. Every show of emotion, every celebration, is over the top. That could be the reason why shaking hands after a wicket and smiling at the batsman after beating him all ends up, is most certainly not an Indian trait, but possibly the remnants of a colonial hangover.

However, aggression is not about scowling, abusing and making faces – more often, it is a manifestation of pumped up adrenalin. As seen in the Twenty20 tournament, it can make all the difference between a player with 10,000 runs under his belt and one who is just a few matches old. It is that charged up feeling that can make the young play without fear. It is that sporty fuel, the lack of which can make the old buckle down under the weight of their battle scars. Before we get into evolved concepts like refined aggression, we need to first find signs of it in the Indian team. And that’s the reason why Sreesanth is in the spotlight.

Everybody would be quick to agree Sreesanth’s show of emotions, his attempt to run Symonds out when the ball was not in play and his send off as Symonds departed wasn’t quite in keeping with the game. But when you are up against the world’s best team, when you are facing a team that can’t do its playing without its talking, it is important to have your own show of might and aggression. Sreesanth’s behaviour could be uncalled for, but it could also the much-needed outburst that might open the floodgates of emotions for the men in blue. The episode may just end in Sreesanth being disciplined in some way – he was already out of the fourth one-dayer, but on the positive side, it may just send the message to both the Indian camp - that there's no need to fear the might of the Aussies - and to the opposition that the Indians are no longer pushovers.

So what we don’t mind is a bit of aggression. What we don’t care about is the banter. But what we certainly want are the wins.

(Appeared in the New Indian Express Sunday Supplement as 'Ball Temper' on 14 October, 2007)