Comfortably dumb!

Where's the Fed Express headed?

Fri, 04 Apr 2008 04:30:57 GMT

How do you explain frequent visits to homepages of ATP tennis tournaments other than the Slams?

It's what I've now begun to call "Fed anxiety".

Last year was a dream with the Wimbledon record along with the other titles (the French is currently not counted as a title in a Fed fan's books), the signs of the competition getting closer were showing up. Rafael ran Roger really close at Wimbledon and names such as Canas, Nalbandian, Ferrer and now Djokovic were pushing him to previously unchartered territory - tie-breaks, two sets down and the like.

This year has been nothing short of uncharacteristically disastrous for Roger Federer. Roger came with little preparation to the Australian and fought off some close calls to justify a place in the semi finals. Djokovic did the inevitable when he ended a rusty Fed's misery at the tournament. Even the most optimistic fan could tell that there was a let down in the intensity and focus on Fed's side. The mental preparation was definitely short, but Federer's ability and consistency to stay in long baseline rallies was also called under question in that match.

If one could ignore the Australian Open loss as a mere blip on an otherwise incredible career, there are more signs. Last month, Roger did well to make it to the semis of the Indian Wells, a tournament he hasn't won in 2 years. This time it was Mardy Fish who made a statement. Well, it was more a statement of Federer's decline rather than Fish's upsurge. Fish plays well but he went on to a fighting loss to Djokovic in the finals of the same tournament.

And now, Andy Roddick, of all people, decides it's time to puncture a flagging ego. Federer has not lost to Roddick in their last 11 meetings and this loss definitely has a story to tell. While Fed hasn't exactly looked ragged on court, he is probably feeling the heat of not winning much more now than ever.

Writing off the champ is no good. Atleast, I'll wait till the end of the year A couple of changes in strategy might be welcome

a. Serve and volley?
Fed's not winning the French with the kind of form he is in. He might as well try out more of serve and volley on his first serves to revive a dying art on hard courts. His job is made all the more difficult with slower hard court surfaces, but it would be worth a gamble at a time when baseliners are killing him with longer rallies.

b. Serve technique
The second serve's getting oddly predictable. I wonder if Fed's got a coach now since he parted with Tony Roche. Surely, there's room to reinvent himself so opponents do not start taking that second serve for granted.

c. Consistency
One notices a distinct lack of consistency and depth on the groundstrokes. In any case, a back to basics approach with a comparative of how his game used to be at its peak and changes to it now may bring out interesting information.

I'll resist the urge to ask the question "Is this the beginning of the end" and leave that to more 'knowledgeable' newspapers. The year to follow will tell which way Federer's career is headed. 15 career slams is a goal that's easily talked about but it may yet prove to be Roger Federer's biggest challenge. And if that happens against the kind of odds he is up against, the champion will ensure his fightback will be more talked of than the rest of his career.

Boredom - 2

Thu, 27 Mar 2008 12:06:13 GMT

Somebody, who happens to have a really strong Tamil gene, told me that he's happy Chennai is having a Test Match at MAC after all the rained out games in the last year.

Now that 2 days of this supremely boring run-fest are done, I can safely pray for the rain to end the tortue.

No, I'm not interested in seeing Sehwag, Jaffer or even Sachin score a meaningless century on a dead pitch. The only fair result is the Indians contrive to lose this match and the BCCI, in its tradition of inexplicable behaviour, decides we need sporting wickets for all the wrong reasons.

One cribs about T20 destroying Test cricket's legacy and then such wickets ensure that the nail goes deeper into the coffin.

Boredom

Sat, 22 Mar 2008 18:51:49 GMT

Because fugney asked me to write something with the topic: "Boredom: Working in a low-paying job". I was bored while writing this and expect you to be bored while reading this. I've succeeded if you don't finish this. Don't bother cursing me. Am too bored.

Redhead stares at me condescendingly while contemplating the possible ingestion of a grain of rice, the remnant of my lunch from day before yesterday. I’ve tried ending his pathetic existence over the course of the past week. Such efforts have included sneaking up behind him with a rolled up version of yesterday's newspaper or the impulsive lunge with my bare hands. On a particularly frustrating day, I almost had him by trapping him under an inverted glass. A few hours and the lack of oxygen would have atleast had him knocked cold, if not dead. But trust Kantabai, that deranged sweeper woman, to lift the glass and give Redhead the freedom he enjoys now. And so, the war continues.

In spite of all these sorry efforts, Redhead has been my only source of joy in the past few weeks. Fruit flies have a short life and the drosophilae of Redhead’s type lead shorter lives in this sort of climate. He would probably have crossed the larval/pupae stage only a few weeks back and soon he’ll die one of those squashy, gory deaths that you see when wood meets pulp. Before him, it was Attila whom I named for his particularly aggressive dive-bombing tactics reminiscent of the marauding Huns. And before that it was Ivana a Mata-Hari style female who enchanted me with her curvy flight. Sadly she died in an unintentional ledger accident.

Redhead can disappear for hours together and the only company I have is the journal and its companion ledger. There was a time when my now deceased father would spend many an hour pontificating on book-keeping being an occupation of the highest dignity. During his last years, computers had come to being and only companies (such as the one I work for now) that could not afford one employed people like me to do the mundane. He lived believing this now-obscure philosophy to the extent that I was forced to take up courses in accountancy to perpetuate this illusion. And finally he died married to a philosophy that was fast being erased by reality. I’m now a dwindling species in a world of accounting softwares. And I try to find meaning in vain.

Redhead makes a return after a possible courtship ritual with one of the females in the adjoining office. He seems to be saying something to the effect of “You don’t spill enough food these days” to feed me. To which I reply with a pitiless stare “You’re gonna die one of these days, bastard!”
The day has just begun and I’m already anticipating the 11 am tea break. The office is lonely. I have a corner all to myself but the rest of the room is occupied by cabinets filled with files from last year, vouchers, receipts and other transactional papers that keep coming in throughout the day. People come in to fetch an old file or to dump out-of-date records. I’m a part of the paperwork and all other lifeless assets in this room.

Redhead takes a few brave steps onto my ledger. “Why don’t you switch jobs?”, he says. “I can’t. This is the only thing I know.”

11 am and a tea helps. The tea is delivered by the snickering chai-waala next door. I wonder if he has a daughter. Maybe she’d not mind the low pay and be willing to marry me. Redhead seems to be reproaching me for such a denigrating thought. “How can you marry his daughter? Surely you are better than that!“ I attend to the day’s vouchers. People sell goods worth millions and here I am recording these sales for a pay nothing short of peanuts.

An hour’s work of accounting entries gets done, interspersed with brave forays by Redhead on my account books and vouchers. I wonder if they study these flies when building fighter aircraft. He’s got speed, that bastard. Times his jumps to precision and lives to see another day. Lunch creeps up and I open a drab chapathi and dal while pondering the disastrous adjustments to accounts that lie in wait post-lunch. Redhead makes merry as I eat messily. Drosophilae are known to breed in clusters, but I wonder if my office must have been marked off by Redhead in an uncharacteristic assertion of territorial dominance. I don’t see any of his cronies or the females come calling. Strange.

There must be life beyond this, I tell myself. Not for myself but for Redhead. He’s unbelievably active for a life so short. I attempt a contrast between his existence and mine. I’ll live much longer and yet live a life less meaningful than his. And yet I find it immensely pleasurable to find meaning in this apology for a job by mercilessly befriending and then terminating already short lives. I’m jealous. That explains it. Jealous that a fruit fly could lead a life more meaningful than mine.

I’m jolted out of this vicious cycle of thought by the thud of files adding to the old files cabinet. The world around me seems to find meaning in mundane activity while I seem to despise both activity and the act of finding meaning. Redhead seems to have returned after another brief rendezvous with his female companion.

Tea time and I decide that I’m bored with Redhead’s quest for meaning. I spill some tea near the window sill. I watch as Redhead’s perambulations around the room on the floor bring him closer to the window. He probably sniffs the tea and flies up to settle a safe distance away from myself and the spilt tea. I pretend to be distracted, confident that my superior intelligence can outwit this biological wonder who, after all, is below me on the food chain. Redhead inches his way to the tea drops. I reach for the thick accounts sheet I’m working on and roll it behind my body as Redhead decides to take his chances. He’s almost near the tea drops while I’m making my plans behind my back. He’s now next to the tea drop and relishes the sugar as he partakes of it. I raise the rolled up accounts sheet much above his head. I lower the book in slow motion without sudden movements until the book rests a few metres above Redhead, poised to squash him. He’s oblivious to the threat and seems to have let down all guard in this saccharine intoxication. The sheet comes down in one swift strike.

On the way back home I play back the victory in my head. Redhead was a good friend but he had to go. There was too much meaning to his life. That only served to accentuate the futility in mine.

The next day plays itself out in dull repetition of the first. Nothing changes around here. Except there’s no Redhead today. Lunch comes and goes and I’m just cleaning my space for work when a beautiful black bellied female drosophila announces her buzzing arrival by executing a zig-zag, turntail, up and over motion around the bad debts vouchers. A new friend. I’ll call her Melina.

Wed, 19 Mar 2008 06:08:07 GMT

Dave Bowman has left the building. It's a sad day in terms of loss to the sci-fi community. Lately, the man was restricted in his writings and chose to make his presence felt by sombre pleas for intelligent life, peace and environmental preservation.

I do not consider myself an ardent fan of any of Clarke's works but 2001. But for creating a timeless world of HAL, monoliths and Bowman's journeys, Clarke shall be remembered. And missed. Rest in peace.

A friend mentioned that Clarke's death culminates as the loss of the big 3 of the sci-fi writing world - Asimov and Heinlein being the other two. Another friend gave it an even more pessimistic twist saying that a lot of DNA has not got passed on. Do their kids write or show any comparable talent?

Atleast Pratchett's alive, I commented. Apparently, he's got early onset Alzheimer's or some such. No Vonnegut as well. So who's taking over the mantle - Stephen Baxter? Orson Scott Card? Ursula Le Guin?

John Gray on delusions.

Mon, 17 Mar 2008 09:05:41 GMT

One reads something and considers it an interesting perspective on a balance between theism and atheism.

Two days later, I read this absolute stunner of an excerpt from a book by John Gray. I don't know what to say. At an intuitive level, much of what he says makes immense sense.

Zealous atheism renews some of the worst features of Christianity and Islam. Just as much as these religions, it is a project of universal conversion. Evangelical atheists never doubt that human life can be transformed if everyone accepts their view of things, and they are certain that one way of living - their own, suitably embellished - is right for everybody....

It is a funny sort of humanism that condemns an impulse that is peculiarly human. Yet that is what evangelical atheists do when they demonise religion.

In The God Delusion, Dawkins attempts to explain the appeal of religion in terms of the theory of memes...He recognises that, because humans have a universal tendency to religious belief, it must have had some evolutionary advantage, but today, he argues, it is perpetuated mainly through bad education....Human biology has not changed greatly over recorded history, and if religion is hardwired in the species, it is difficult to see how a different kind of education could alter this. Yet Dawkins seems convinced that if it were not inculcated in schools and families, religion would die out. This is a view that has more in common with a certain type of fundamentalist theology than with Darwinian theory...

The problem with the secular narrative is not that it assumes progress is inevitable (in many versions, it does not). It is the belief that the sort of advance that has been achieved in science can be reproduced in ethics and politics. In fact, while scientific knowledge increases cumulatively, nothing of the kind happens in society....

Belief in progress is a relic of the Christian view of history as a universal narrative, and an intellectually rigorous atheism would start by questioning it.

Powerful and I suspect that Gray may well love anything that has nothing to do with 'hope' or 'progress'. Essentially, a Cthulhu worshippper minus the zealous fanaticism. Gray shall now be sought out and consumed.

Respect for belief

Fri, 14 Mar 2008 04:31:22 GMT

Interesting perspective on respect for beliefs or lack thereof. Some of the comments on the post are insightful as well.

(Link courtesy: Nilu )

An opportune cricketing rant..

Tue, 04 Mar 2008 14:43:17 GMT

It's over finally. And in fitting style. A terrific match which at times seemed like Australia's game for the taking ensured that the trophy for the last edition of the CB series shall decorate Indian shelves.

For the last 2 months or so, one would have had to be a zen-like cricket fan not to have got caught in all the drama surrounding the team's tour. And to have it culminate in such a fine victory provides immense pleasure to this cricket fan. I rejoiced a little during the T20 cup win but kept reminding myself that the format could well have been like a poker game where technique, bowlers' reputations and strategy mattered little. Beating Australia in Australia in Tests still is the coup d'etat that almost happened this summer. The feelings most cricket fans had at the end of that series must have been of the kind that say "denied what was due". This CB series win in a tournament which was dear to Australia in so many ways - Gilly and Hogg's farewell, the last edition - does soothe those thoughts.

Before I lose it all in the euphoria, some thoughts on a tour that has thrown up characters out of nowhere :

Praveen Kumar - Good swing bowling on tracks that assisted quicks. The wrist comes into play just as it does for Ishant before the point of delivery. Got a bagful of wickets, courtesy batsmen underestimating his nip and swing. I doubt if he would be as effective on slower tracks. Would be a good find to the team if he improved his batting and proved himself on other tracks.

Ishant Sharma - Here to stay. If Perth was a revelation, the CB series has given the boy something to shout about. Unarguably India's quickest of the lot and one who needs to be groomed and given adequate rest amidst mad-cap touring.

Rohit Sharma - A post has already been devoted to this man. So not much to say except the experience of playing on and adjusting to different tracks needs to happen. Played a divine and crucial knock in the 1st final.

Dhoni as captain - Reads the game well to a T. Maybe it's just me reading a lot of management books, but has anyone noticed how he backs players that are struggling to take up the job in dire circumstances? It seems to be a symptom of the Chappell coaching era to have youngsters rise to the occasion but Dhoni seems to be putting it into practice so well. If it was Joginder Sharma in the T20 cup, it was Ishant, Praveen Kumar and today, a struggling Pathan who was given the last over, who all performed when it mattered. If anything, it seemed like terrific man management and leadership. Batted in an uncharacteristically subdued way but ended up shepherding the team when it mattered. Keeping has seen some amazing improvement as well. Nothing more one could ask from the man.

Pathan - Struggled as a bowler but scored crucial runs as a lower order bat. In his defense, he's probably had to come up or down the order as the situation demanded and does not know his role in advance. Seems short on pace as a bowler.

Harbhajan - A lot of things could have been avoided if he had kept his mouth shut. Having said that, it's too much of an ask from this character. The saving grace has been that he's walked the talk in the CB series getting crucial strikes when it mattered. Is still a bit of a force in the ODI/T20 game considering batsmen are not that defensive. It's time to look to Piyush for Tests.

Yuvraj - A horrid tour to say the least. Looked unfit and out of sorts throughout on seaming pitches and could well have been replaced by Manoj Tiwary during the first 4-5 games. Has tried to hit his way out of trouble and managed limited success. Another successful sub-continent tour and cries for a Test spot will re-surface.

Uthappa - I'd like to think he never got a fair chance to bat and when he did, it was mighty tough to be a Mohammed Kaif at No. 7. Has played well as an opener in patches, but is far from cementing his place in the side. Needs to find form and quick.

Gambhir - Good find for the team. Got a fighting century at Sydney and timely fifties. Plays the spinners well. Could really win a Test spot if he uses right shot selection and does not throw away his wicket when set.

Sreesanth/Munaf - Blown hot, blown cold. Sree looks a promising bowler but tends to lose it under pressure. All that transcendental meditation is not showing up in the performance. Needs a psychologist.

Munaf will probably go down as the worst batsman and fielder who still kept playing for India. Almost seems as if he's out for a stroll in the park when playing. Needs classroom training.

And now, the main reason I even made this post.

Sachin
Has had yet another year enduring question marks on his place and criticism. It seems futile to think that there is anything left to prove for this man.

His efforts in the Tests are already forgotten conveniently. Saw a tired looking version of the man until the finals. Four gruelling Tests and fitness/rest was definitely a concern. Kept playing gamely till he revealed himself in the finals.

Sydney was a scintillating knock and if anything it put to rest a question that refuses to die down : Does Sachin ever play in the finals or during a must-win India chase ?

I ran this question through my mind 5-6 years ago when it really had to be asked and the answer has never been in doubt since. For starters, the question is symptomatic of people who expect a lone hand from the man in India wins. As has often been the case, his best knocks have been outstanding first innings centuries that obliterated oppositions world-wide leading to bowlers having huge totals to bowl at. Aren't these winning knocks?

As far as chases go, people forget it is a team game. The statement "Sachin never plays in a must-win India chase" is as much a statement of Sachin's poor record when chasing as it is of the other 6-7 batsmen in the team who did not play well during these matches. In fact, a more accurate statement would have been "When Sachin does not play well in India's must-win chases, the rest of the batting order also falters". Now, that is as incriminating of the whole Indian team as it is of Sachin. So there.

In any case, these knocks will serve to silence critics for a short time before the novice sports writer writing for the sensationalist newspaper questions this legend's form without an iota of cricketing knowledge. If there's anything left for Sachin, it is to choose his day and time to say goodbye. There is simply nothing left to be done in a glittering 19 year old career when he has simply been an immense source of joy. And yet, being who he is, he might complain of not having beaten Australia at home in Tests.

Thank you, Sachin Tendulkar. Thank you, India.

Journeys in Cambodia

Wed, 27 Feb 2008 11:23:49 GMT

Trafficking of girls for prostitution elicits somewhat contrasting opinions in discussion groups I've been in. The almost near-majority opinion is in favour of it being banned or some such. A minority, often radically oriented, argues that prostitution, like many economic transactions, is not necessarily forced upon the girl. It is a transaction wherein freedom of choice is available to both buyer and seller. And both work in their own self-interest. However simplistic these arguments may sound on either side, trafficking is a complex, multi-layered issue that culminates into many girls, often underage, losing innocence early and taking to a life which they soon begin believing is the best they could have.

Nicholas Kristoff, an op-ed at NYtimes, in a 5 part writeup, takes the reader through a vivid journey of his travels and experiences in rescuing prostitutes and eventually trying to analyze prostitution in Cambodia.

Part 1 starts with his meeting the girls under question.

Part 2 begins with bargaining for the sale of 2 girls from their owners. Both girls are offered the option of staying back, one which they do not choose to exercise.

Part 3 chronicles the journey home of one of the girls. Her homecoming being lukewarm at best, culminates in the promise of a new life.

Part 4 chronicles the other girl's return journey. The story does not end as well as it could have. Kristoff identifies recidivism as a strong consequence of scars inflicted by years of servitude and being conditioned to a life that one may find difficult replacing with.

Part 5 concludes with an analysis of what constitutes modern day trafficking.

Stories such as these possibly get enacted all across the world - especially in Asia-Pacific countries. I wonder if prostitution(forced or unforced) is a function of social mores and local culture in terms of sexual permissiveness. Forced prostitution appears to be a more generic symptom of societies where poverty, human rights and education are still a concern. There seems little doubt that underage trafficking should be deemed illegal, but what of prostitution in general? Does legalizing the same result in a better deal for girls (not necessarily underage)? Or is it just a question of free-will when you are old enough to make your own decisions.

Lourdes of Twang.

Sat, 23 Feb 2008 06:28:07 GMT

The Lourdes of Twang.

To go wants the me.

Rohit Sharma

Wed, 20 Feb 2008 06:13:06 GMT

I'm slightly late on this (possibly irrationally) exuberant post. But I think the search for India's next Test batsman may just end with this boy.

I watched him at the rained out game against Australia at the Gabba. Chappel and Co. gushed about his timing, but what's remarkable is the balance. The timing is just a result of the immaculate shift of weight.

To digress just a little bit, it slightly irks me when people interpret timing as a cricketing act/ability that happens after the ball meets bat and races away. Great timing they say once it reaches the boundary or shoots in the fielder's direction. On the contrary, timing is a set of events that begins in the batsman's head/hand/feet even before the ball leaves the bowler's hand and culminates into the bat meeting ball within allowable margins of error (sweet spot on the bat) to produce a shot that is described as having 'great timing'.

Rohit Sharma appears to have this gift. And in a strange eugenic sense, assuming we had a Brave New World in which cricketers were genetically engineered, Sharma would have been pretty close to a combination of Dravid and Laxman.

Meanwhile, the maanga goes just a little overboard in its predictions about this boy. We'll see - it might just happen.

Death by Kakkuro

Mon, 18 Feb 2008 05:23:51 GMT

20th February
My first entry. I’ve now decided to maintain this personal log. The net-savvy folk call it a blog in the online context. Being the old-timer that I am, I prefer the written word. A personal diary, if you will.

It’s been two weeks to the day since she went. Rahul left back to the U.S. after the last rites. It’s strange that she wanted the kid and all the relatives to be together at our place but it only happened when she was no longer there. I’ll miss her. Hopefully this diary will serve as a useful outlet in her absence.

4th March
Two more weeks have passed by. The house wears an empty and silent look when I wake up and when I come back from work. Her absence shows.

Work is good in terms of keeping the mind distracted, occupied and in some state that one can term intellectually stimulated. I’m close to retirement and things can only get worse as my responsibilities reduce.

It is the idle hours that kill. I tried the gym but found it too full of the ‘social elite’. Fast cars, new technology fads, the other man’s wife - I cannot relate to such people. I’d prefer a discussion on Keats or Sartre. Maybe I should try the public library or other social activity groups.

10th March
Things have got busier. In a sense.

That abominable newspaper, "The Times", publishes a daily mathematical puzzle. It’s called Kakkuro. I’ve taken to this new game over the past 2
days. It consumes the best part of my mornings, including breakfast hours. Considering I exhausted my passion for sudoku and crosswords long back, I hope Kakkuro will sustain my interest longer.

17th March
Another week has passed by. Rahul had called. His education seems to be coming along fine. I get the feeling he misses his mother a lot. We spoke about her for a while. Until it got a little too cloying for a discussion between two adult males. I’m glad he has his education and friends to keep him busy.

Above all, I’m glad the kid is not here to see me struggling through this phase.

20th March
More Kakkuro. I now solve Kakkuro during the mornings and after work before I sleep.

The game lines up interestingly in terms of number grids. It comes across as completely different to the sudoku style of number placement. In terms of possible solutions, the game is more open than sudoku as there are multiple solutions to the number grid. More variables, multiple solutions. However, the solutions seem intricately tied with placing specific numbers at specific locations on the grid, from where the solutions branch out. An interesting game. I think I’m getting addicted.

22nd March
It’s only been two days since the last entry. But I solved some interesting grids over the past few days. It takes much less time now since I seem to be getting the hang of the way these grids work.

The game still continues to hold its charm and I’m fascinated by the variety in the grids inspite of the multiple solutions per grid. Sooner or later, I expected to see patterns repeating but with this game, the possibilities seem endless.

I also get the feeling I'll be isolating myself from humanity a little more than usual as this game occupies my hours.

26th March
I think I finally met my match. No, I’m not getting married again.

"The Times" published a seemingly easy grid today. However, solving the grid started with breakfast and extended well into the late hours tonight. Save for a couple of fills, the grid looks tough. I plan to stay up and crack this before I sleep.

27th March
The grid hasn’t budged. This one is tough as steel. All my morning efforts yielded only 4 grid fills before I realized that the numbers did not line up with other numbers already on the grid.

I went to work and came back early hoping the evening would bring an alternative line of thought. It did not help. All this because I ignored the morning edition of "The Times" that brings the solution to the previous day’s grid. This grid will need some solving.

28th March
I skipped work today. It had to be done. Solving this grid has become a question of ego. I looked up a few books and websites on Kakkuro. Most of them suggest the same lines of reasoning as the one I follow to solve these grids. Nothing new.

Another day of efforts with little progress. I seem to be filling up numbers on the grid before hitting areas on the grid that do not go with the fundamental rules of the game. I must be going wrong somewhere.

29th March
I’m too weak today to write coherently. This grid has sapped my energies. I’m nowhere closer than what I was 3 days ago. Three days of negligible sleep and even less peace of mind.

I skipped work again. I restarted the grid from scratch, only to hit the same road blocks all over again. Giving up and looking up "The Times" solution would be an option. But I’ve never before considered looking up solutions. She always used to say that I had a mathematically improbable ego.

Doctor’s Post-mortem Report, April 2nd
Subject was found slumped on his work table when the body was found. Body bears no external signs of injury. Subject seems to have been under intense mental trauma and mental pressure over the past few days. This is evident from the strained muscles on face evident on dead body as well as the haphazard surroundings in the room. Subject also lost his wife a few weeks ago. This seems to have contributed to the state of mind as well.
Found a pen and an edition of "The Times" dated 26th March in the subject’s hand at the time of death.

Cause of death identified as a cardiovascular arrest resulting from intense hypertension and nervous breakdown.

"The Times", dated 27th March – Sports and Games section

Errata: We regret to inform you that our Kakkuro puzzle dated 26th March had grievous errors in its printing. Many of the numbers were misplaced due to print alignment mistakes by one of our junior staff. The puzzle will be republished at a later date. We apologize for any inconvenience caused to our Kakkuro patrons.

"The Times" dated April 4th - Obituary

Dear Amit,
We shall miss your obstinate and determined resistance to the toughest sudoku and crossword puzzles ever published. You were always our inspiration. We now plan to expand the club’s activities to include Kakkuro solving activities and wish you’d been here to see it happen. Rest in peace.

- The Crossword and Sudoku Club, Local Chapter

Japanese Test matches..

Thu, 14 Feb 2008 16:17:41 GMT

Scrapping through a tough as nuts sudoku grid comes close to a Test Match experience on Aussie soil.

The initial opening conjures up visions of a sheep-like Indian bowling attack of Venkatesh Prasad and Javagal Srinath trying hard for that opening breakthrough against a bullying Hayden and a resolute Langer on a cold Boxing day morning at the MCG. The sparsely populated sudoku grid seems to be jeering at your ineptitude like a thousand Aussies spitting curses at a boundary posted Indian fieldsman on his first trip Down Under. It is hell and you are living it.

And then, the joy of finally getting a number on the grid brings with it a calm reassertion of self-belief. Heh, we got started. One number on the grid leads to a few others, closely resembling an out-of-form Ponting leaving without troubling the scorers. A surge of confidence as the grid appears a little less menacing and the Indian fielders begin crowding around the bat thinking they'll run through the Aussie lineup in one session. Not to be, my friend, not to be.

A partnership follows as the sudoku grid unravels itself to hold mysteries unfathomable by your mentally challenged self. Self-doubts arrive in bigger numbers. Field changes, bowling changes - read that travelling to different parts of the grid in an attempt to see loose ends. Gritty thought soon turns into desperation. Time ticks on..the runs flow. Much head scratching, back itching and team discussions with the inner self. Images of an untiring Kumble toiling on an unresponsive first day pitch. And finally the breakthrough arrives. Hayden departs and few others follow in his wake. The grid starts populating fast.

And then come the tail-enders. These doughty digits represent the last stand of the grid. It is easy to mess up a grid you worked hard to fill in the smug overconfidence that underestimates these vanguard warriors. Insert more pictures of Mitchell Johnson and Stuart Clark pushing up an already behemoth Aussie total to even more imposing proportions. More itching before the grid's last shreds of resistance collapse.

1.5 Hours. On a sudoku grid. An Indian cricketer's Australian baptization. It's all the same.

Financial debates

Wed, 13 Feb 2008 06:25:55 GMT

Debates are the order of the day. I wonder what I'd do without debates. Earlier, I used to debate life. Being engaged in such debates, when the worth of my own existence became debatable, I decided to debate debatable debates. Debates on morality, love, women, economics. And when it all ended in some sort of status-quo, people would debate which part of me to paralyze first. (Enter image of voodoo doll with pins being poked).

In any case, another one of those debatably wonderful days. And one which ended with a debate with the Elders. Not these Elders. But the elders as in the father, the mother and the Holy grandma.

The discussion starts off with story of a grand-uncle of ours who recently called asking for a loan.

Some background on the financial dealings of rich grand uncle:
Rich grand uncle is property hogger. Apparently got blank papers signed by his sisters(Holy grandma included) on great grandfather's death to hog all property. Rich grand uncle is now super rich. Courtesy dealings in financial markets and loaning money to all and sundry, including home washermaid, at insane rates of interest (read 25% and so).

Back to discussion. Rich grand uncle is now a HNI with family murmurs that he has a crore stacked up in the bank and another crore in the heirloom cupboard and maybe a few more crores up his own lungi. So, when he calls up and asks for a 4 lakh loan - eyebrows are raised. Reason for loan is cited as his daughter's marriage and he would like to help her with setting up a home.

Elders at home comment about how it was an impulsively easy decision to reject the loan - considering rich grand uncle thought we would be fools to entertain such a loan when he himself had the finances to loan 100 such loans.

This is where my debatable alter-ego speaks up. Argued that as a lender, you would probably consider the risks incurred on loan (is the borrower likely on default? How dependable is he?) and the return on investment (say you work out a deal on 10-12% return per year) and that should be enough to lend the cash. It is immaterial how much finances the said uncle has or how he wishes to use this money. Well, theoretically at least - considering you don't expect him to orchestrate bomb blasts having known him for some time.

Shock and awe stricken faces gape at me. Debate rages on as to how I don't understand family dynamics and how I'd have lent this money to said uncle and screwed life up. So on and so forth.

Couple of points emerging from the debate:

- Elders developed a cognitive bias against said uncle based on his behavior over these years of dealings. Hence, smelt a rat when he asked for a meagre loan in the face of abundant personal finance availability.

- Assuming said rich uncle would have agreed to repay loan at high interest (say 15%) within a year and had an agreement on paper, Elders would still have refused. Reason : said cognitive bias.

-Intra family loans are hardly analyzed as business opportunities. Call me a worthy successor to rich grand uncle.

Moral: Daddy knows best. Financial arguments often resolve themselves into moralistic debates about hopes, aspirations, expectations and a lot of emotional drama.

Debatably yours,
Me

Rural Urban migration

Mon, 11 Feb 2008 14:33:51 GMT

Fredrich August Kekule's serendipitous vision of the Ouroborous led to what is now the benzene structure. Fortunately, Kekule had enough knowledge of chemistry to conceive of such a structure based on this 'vision'. The same cannot be said of this man. Or his estranged brother here. What is however common is serendipity at having stumbled upon a critical urban problem and highlighting it.

Political solutions

While I myself will struggle through the endeavors of understanding microeconomic theories in a few months' time, I believe our politicians would be equally well served with knowledge of the same. The only reason, therefore, to thank the dear Shiv-Sena cousins is because they have decided to scream themselves hoarse that Mumbai is bursting at the seams and this is a major problem.

The cause: Rural-urban migration - not just from towns around Mumbai but from Bihar and North India.

Fair enough considering this is an issue economists have spent years studying.

The solution: Throw all North Indians out and deprive them of local jobs.

Eh? I lost you here. Does this mean Mumbai can perennially support migration from in and around Maharashtra towns? Or is this the only way to solve stress on urban infrastructure and jobs? This is where Chidambaram and Manmohan must be guffawing in their living rooms at the intellectually challenged politicians that run states.

Economic solutions

For starters, it seems rural-urban migration is considered a positive event in economic circles. The assumption is that rural population moves away from the primary agricultural/foresting/mining sectors towards the more capital intensive secondary manufacturing and tertiary services sectors. Countries that go from developing to developed slowly find greater contribution to their GDP from the latter sectors than from the former. Efficiency in agricultural methods contributed by technological advances is often cited as a reason for making this sector less labour intensive than it was - thus moving jobs to cities and the other sectors.

Having said that India is a different cup of tea. In India, urban jobs created cannot keep up with the growth rate of urban population (both indigenous and migrant combined). Add to this the fact that much of the migrant population is unskilled and illiterate and can contribute very little to the industrial and services sectors. Enter slums, land squatting, stress on urban resources, et al. For some time now, migration to metros has simply served to shift the unemployment problem from rural areas to cities.

An internet search threw up this enlightening paper (long one but worth the read). A good portion of the paper analyses the problem and concludes with some model solutions.

According to the paper, many economists believe that the informal sector can best contribute to alleviating urban unemployment woes. Add to that developmental models for rural areas such as identifying markets for rural products and providing a common means of livelihood around which villages can function to keep villagers from migrating.

Much of this takes time to produce results, but it would seem well worth the effort than inciting jingoistic pride and resorting to emotional arguments. The Maratha manoos could use leaders with a background in economics instead of these buffoons.

PSTWS

Thu, 07 Feb 2008 18:03:23 GMT

Watching Mccain, Romney, Obama and Hillary post their plastic smiles and bless America every minute. Hillary seems a bit ahead of Obama. And then there's the Korean war veteran. The hilarity of it all. Can only be summed up by a gem. Post Super-Tuesday Withdrawal Syndrome.

Reason and religion

Thu, 07 Feb 2008 13:24:24 GMT

A thoroughly engaging and excellent post.

The more I read such posts, the more inviting is the atheist standpoint in comparison to the fence-sitting agnostic view. Many may argue there is no fence-sitting to be done in the first place.

Reason kills profound transcendental joy.

Balance Sheets..

Tue, 05 Feb 2008 14:44:30 GMT

From a finance book I was skimming through recently.

In the introduction:

"Every housewife invents a convincing excuse to buy a new saree, every now and then, even though the wardrobe is overflowing. My wife retorts that authors are no exception when it comes to management books."

Elsewhere :

"Every accountant claims that a balance sheet is an innocent table with a statement of assets and liabilities. Liabilities on the left and assets on the right.

Male readers, now take a look at your marriage photograph. Who is standing on your left? This should clear up any doubts about assets and liabilities. "

An otherwise droll subject needs the occasional laugh.

Plato(o)nic Love

Fri, 01 Feb 2008 14:38:28 GMT

There's something about this picture. For starters, it was taken by a certain Art Greenspon during a certain military evacuation exercise in Vietnam in 1968. And unless a certain Yale dropout who went on to serve in Vietnam had not seen this picture, it may never have been immortalized. The now legendary image of a desperate Sgt. Elias Grodin (Willem Dafoe) being run down by NVA bullets while running for his life is but one of the many images that this film leaves you with. Sometimes it takes people like that Yale dropout, also known as Oliver Stone, to bring still images to life.

Having watched Platoon for what I think is only the 3rd time in 7 years since I first watched it, words fail to describe what makes this film stand out in the NAM film genre. The third watch did little to change the opinion that Charlie Sheen had little to do in making the movie a success unlike his more illustrious father who pretty much made Apocalypse Now what it was. Unlike Martin Sheen, Charlie Sheen just happened to be in a good film in a central role.

Probably the biggest strength of Platoon lies in portraying the human conditions of war fearlessly. It earned the film its fair share of critics, but Stone had never set out to win fans. One can either create a film with endless number of people dying and tell the audience "Look, so many people died. This is how bad it was." Or one can talk of guys like Sgt. Barnes who follow a thin code of morality and live by the sword. Or about Sgt. Elias who would rather stand up for his men and his principles amidst the madness surrounding him and his men.

Platoon delivers in terms of immortal images and snapshots of the war. The gang of soldiers taking to marijuana in a dimly lit shack to the tune of Jefferson Airplane's "White Rabbit" lives on as one of the many futile attempts of some men to temporarily forget their reality and fate. The cliche of ethical lines in the sand rings out in one single bullet shot that Barnes fires ending a Vietnamese woman's tirade. An otherwise sane and balanced Pvt. Taylor losing his sanity and almost killing a deaf Vietnamese man offers temporary respite for an audience that would rather see the hero come clean. An enraged and insane Bunny completes Sheen's job in a rather gruesome way, almost telling the audience - "This movie's director did not believe in keeping it clean". Other images of the final battle, patrol ambushes are run of the mill yet do well to fill in between these impact scenes.

Willem Dafoe cannot but captivate but Tom Berenger essayed a tough role and came out on top. One cannot but think that Platoon jump started so many fledgling acting careers - Johnny Depp, Charlie Sheen, Forest Whitaker - simply because these guys were in a great, great film. Not to mention shooting in the jungles of Phillipines, living on military rations and being directed by an eccentric Oliver Stone may have just been the experience of a lifetime in a once-in-a-decade movie.

Of compromises and marriages of convenience

Wed, 30 Jan 2008 06:15:43 GMT

Someone does something foolish. Or comes close to that. Egos are rustled, the game is brought into disrepute. A tour is threatened. Someone decides - let's wait for a while and talk on this later. Sensible, you would think. Except they have only succeeded pushing the dirt under the carpet.

So a hearing was scheduled. This time, under someone who qualified as a legal judge. Meanwhile, the BCCI played its bluff.

A compromise was finally brokered. And now it is officially called crickets day of shame. Sweet, if you ask me.

It's tough to ride the fence on this one. On most occasions, I have no objections to doing so. Roebuck writes some sense :

" India's conduct was deplorable. That the Australians have been carrying on like pork chops for years was no excuse. India had every right to stand against them, but not to undermine the rule of law. Posturing has cost them the high ground. Indeed, the time has come to take a closer look at the behaviour of the BCCI, not least its liaison with the thieves and thugs running Zimbabwean cricket. A man is known by the company he keeps. "

Yes. And finally, did Harbhajan, who by now has ensured that he shall be remembered for things NOT cricket than anything else, say it? This video link(needs a fast connection) with the audio transcript of the Symonds-Bhajji conversation is inconclusive. But, it does leave some room for speculation and dispute.

For some time now, there has been this theory floating around that Harbhajan did not use the word "monkey" but rather abused him in native Hindi to the tune of "maa ki..". The similar sounding words caused the whole issue. I'm inclined to think this is a story cooked up by the Indian defense purely as an afterthought. The fact that this whole idea has gained credence is still not corroborated by the video. It seems unlikely Harbhajan changed his language of abuse suddenly in the middle of the conversation with Symonds. He speaks rather good English, one can see. Having said that, much of this is useless speculation.

So, where do we go? The tour goes on. The Aussies are dissatisfied. And as this political win-at-all-costs game by the BCCI has reached a satisfactory end from the Indian perspective, we wonder if Harbhajan really is guilty and was lucky. In which case, we should all celebrate and rejoice. Or that's what most Indians want to do. What's next? Sreesanth joins the party. Symonds troubles have just begun.

Meanwhile, more rankings come out. Sania acknowledges becoming Asia's No. 1, little knowing that these very people will pull her down in a few months' time. Zaheer Khan gets some award, which he'll and I'm sure we shall forget in a few days. A new set of school rankings will be released in a month's time. I'm so happy to be an Indian!! We gave it back to the Aussies, the British and the rest of the world. Let's party - all our years of slavery have been redeemed!!

Long live George Orwell - Ignorance is Strength.

On fervour..

Tue, 29 Jan 2008 06:20:00 GMT

Some news. A truck-load of mails in the inbox. Each celebrating the achievement like the fall of Troy.

Someone, in this case me, makes the mistake of politely enquiring why the IIMs do not figure even in the top 100. Points, which in my opinion, seemed pertinent. Such as :

If the ranking metrics involve research pubs, pay packages and overall placement %, where do the IIMs lag behind vis a vis other schools?

Did the IIMs refuse to participate in the ranking survey?

And some such questions.

A huge ruckus about how much pride it is to be an Indian today. And to feel validated by the British press and their supposedly sacrosanct rankings. Some jingoism and a lot of chest thumping about why we should consider ourselves redeemed for all these years of slavery and why no one needs to be ashamed *anymore* of doing an MBA from an Indian B-school. A lot of recursive chest thumping. A headache. Hence this post.

An invigorating sporting week..

Thu, 24 Jan 2008 11:25:57 GMT

A great week if you were a tennis and cricket fan.

Perth was an absolute sporting high - being made possible in no small measure due to the sterling, patient and understated efforts of that special man - V.V.S. Laxman. His stint in the middle with R.P. Singh may have been the most valuable partnership of the innings, irrespective of solid innings by Sehwag and Pathan. For once, the bowling looked the part. All in all, one great match. Especially after all the drama after Sydney, a match where there was no-nonsense cricket.

The Aussie Open now. They say a star has been born. It's called Jo-Wilfried Tsonga. A couple of people stood up when he finished off his country man and fellow Frenchman Richard Gasquet. And today, Rafael Nadal was made to look like a punk amateur on a tennis court. If anything it was a superlative display of power hitting, precise approach shots and fine volleying of supreme skill. Tsonga packs quite a punch with his monster serve but he is no Mark Phillipoussis in the making or an Andy Roddick who have a booming serve and an ordinary game that cannot stand up on its own. Nadal was made to scamper around impressive angles while Tsonga made cool approaches to the net and finished off points with irretrievable drop volleys. While Nadal was expected to win this one - a straight sets win exposed some glaring weaknesses in the Spaniard's game. Rafa relies on a heavy top spin game which counts well but against the 6'2" Tsonga, the ball just stood up to be hit at waist/chest height. Will be interesting to see how Tsonga matches up on clay. He'll definitely be a handful on grass. Federer, watch closely.

Dear reckless motorcyclist..

Wed, 09 Jan 2008 06:06:49 GMT

Dear reckless motorcyclist,

There is a fundamental reason why countries following either left hand traffic (LHT) or right hand traffic (RHT) systems ensure 4-wheeler steering wheels on the exact opposite end i.e. a right hand drive(RHD) for a LHT system and vice versa. This is so that I may be able to observe fools like you overtaking me *preferably* from the right side of my car. When you overtake me from the left, which happens to be my blind side, I cannot see you and hence cannot save you. Inspite of the availability of a rearview mirror, I am not the omniscient being that you think I am.

Hence, kindly request you to drill this thought into your rocky skull that our arguments on the middle of the road can get nowhere until you understand the fundamentals of traffic directionality. It does not hurt to get educated. Even at your age.

Sincerely,
Me

It is indeed a strange day when it begins with a reading of such pages to confirm if I need to keep my conscience clear.

Damn you, Hyderabad drivers.

The SCG Shame

Mon, 07 Jan 2008 06:05:05 GMT

Recipe for a disastrous Test:

1 hallowed venue
1 Blind/Deaf/Dumb umpire.
Another umpire who lacks conviction and trusts Aussies implicitly
9 controversial decisions
1 Racism controversy
Opening and lower middle order woes
Ridiculous appeals and dishonest catches

One couldn't have asked for more things non-cricket from this match. Much has been written, but there seem to be 2 separate issues at hand:

1. Poor umpiring and player spirit
2. The racist sledging.

As far as umpiring goes, it is clear that Bucknor and Benson erred miserably and nipped wonderful innings in the bud. That we would have held on for a draw had the decisions gone in our favor is useless speculation at this point of time. However, in the context of the state of the game, the decisions were crucial and tilted the balance quit unfavorably against us.

Kumble happened to mention that he was disappointed with the Aussie spirit. The issue again pans out into different domains - catches claimed by fielders and batsmen walking when they know they are out.

As Michael Clarke said, no batsman would ever walk when he was aware that the umpire was not sure of the decision. In fact, every batsman need not walk. The batsman is well within his rights to stay on and wait for the umpire's decision. After all, the umpires have a job to do. In that sense, the expectation of a batsman walking is an unreasonable one. If a batsman who knows that he is out is given not out; surely such a decision weighs on umpire's conscience and it is he who ought to be held responsible for such a decision. Decisions such as those where Ponting/ did not walk rest on Bucknor or Benson's abilities than the morality of the batsmen involved.

Coming to catches claimed by fielders and appeals pertaining to these, such claims have the tendency to deceive and tilt opinion in favour of the fielding side. In such cases, umpires, when unsure, should resort to technology. While I'm tempted to make a judgement about Ponting and the Aussie spirit (lack of it that is) of playing the game, the umpires' implicit trust of the same is to be blamed. Many catches claimed in this context were later analysed and proved by TV replays to be blatantly dishonest and desperate appeals to push for victory. The umpires erred in placing faith in the Australian claim of playing in the spirit of the game. Ponting and the rest of the team are wonderfully talented and extremely competitive, but in a game where they were pushed to the brink for the first time in 12-13 Tests, the desperation and the willingness to bend the rules was conspicuous.

Coming to Harbhajan's controversy, there's not much to say except that he should have known better. There are claims that there is no corroborative evidence to prove Symonds' claims. If Harbhajan did indeed say the word, he is to be punished and without compromise. And that is simply because he was aware of the repercussions of using such words (from arrests made earlier in Mumbai during the Aussie tour to India) and yet chose to do so. It's interesting to note so many angles to this controversy such as -

How would Sachin have testified? Surely, if Hayden and Gilchrist heard it, Sachin heard it as well since he was Bhajji's partner. If that is the case, would he protect his teammate at the cost of perjury?

Also, the context of the word "monkey" is easily misinterpreted. Is it racist? I remember being called various names linking my appearance to fruits, vegetables and animals at various points of time in my life. Is this racism? The divide between the Aussie and Indian cultures also comes to the fore. The Aussie culture is typically more hardened and rational than the Indian culture and hence more resilient in the face of abuse(give or take). Why, then, did Symonds, who is no saint himself, choose to file this complaint? Am sure worse has been spoken on the cricket field between the teams. That probably explains why the Indian team has chosen to file a counter complaint about Hogg using the word "bastard". It appears childish - this whole affair and may have been best left on the field.

If the tour does go ahead, which I think it will, then cricket will eventually take over. Given the state of mind in the Indian camp, the Perth test match could not have come at a worse juncture. Anil Kumble may feel justified in questioning the Aussie spirit but he will probably agree that the Indians have been outplayed during the crucial days of both Tests. This is probably what he needs to address more than the emotional melodrama that surrounds a tour that promised more cricket than controversy.

What a shame..

Sun, 06 Jan 2008 12:07:01 GMT

Steve Bucknor, please retire. You can't see, can't hear and can't think. It's time.
Blind Benson, there's another umpire with a TV replay available. Why did you need an Aussie opinion?
Ponting, spirit on 1 day; grounded catches and dishonest appeals on another. Where's the spirit you talk about?
Lee, sensational you were.
Anil/Sachin/Laxman - no shame.
Yuvraj, Deepika's waiting.
Jaffer, what's up?

The Aussies were better, yes. But they had 13 men playing for them. What a shame.

Perth and Adelaide. A draw is all we ask for.

Sat, 29 Dec 2007 17:00:43 GMT

Had to link to this hilarious post. JK says it well.