And then there were tears!

I wrote this a few months back- right after the Wimbledon final, but never really got a chance to upload it here. I've talked about my absence from the blog world ad nauseum, so I'll fleetingly mention the reason for my sudden appearance- it just so happens that I think it will be real bad luck to go an entire year without a post, don't you? So, here goes nothing!

This year's gentlemen's singles Wimbledon final witnessed not just a gritty clash of nerves, sinew and blood but an avalanche of salty water too. You'd assume it to be sweat, given that the tennis match lasted more than 5 hours, but surprise surprise- crying in an arena has become fashionably sporty!

Andy Murray started off on a promising note and initially looked all poised to pocket his first Grand Slam, but then if Federer has decided not to lose- he won't. With all the pressure the British was under while playing on his home ground, it isn't surprising that his runner’s up acceptance speech was marked by a dazzling display of water-works. He wept and narrated his sob story and we cheered.

Roger Federer himself, is no stranger to crying on the court and on numerous occasions his misty dewy eyes have quadrupled his following. The Swiss maintains that this public display of emotion helps him establish connect with his fans and highlights his passion towards the game. With now 17 titles under his belt, who are we to doubt his tearful advises?

Moral of the match? Tears, widely regarded as weapons of the fairer sex, are being utilized in an equally deadly fashion by the male species in the current age. Was Pablo Neruda specifically questioning his counterparts when he asked "Do tears not yet spilled wait in small lakes?"

The sorrow which has no vent in tears may make other organs weep. ~ Henry Maudsley

IndiYeaaa! IndiYeaaa!

Ok, so India won the world cup- that’s old news. But why is it still important? Well, if you are an Indian, it is the most significant thingy, because 1st of all- it is cricket, 2nd of all- everything is about winning and final of all- it is the most prestigious international event, hence naturally ecstasy runneth over!


Even if you are disinterested in cricket, the way I am, you simply can’t escape the euphoria and the madness. Cricket binds us, heals us, soothes us and ultimately makes us crazy. And since I couldn’t escape the insanity, I decide to join in- I saw the India-Sri Lanka final at the ebay office, where the management had organized a special screening for Indian employees.


For someone who hasn’t seen a cricket match in quite a while, let alone ever in a stadium or even on the small screen lately, the event turned out to be thrilling, hilarious, confusing, all at once.


The following for me were the highlights of the match:

The feeling of singing the National Anthem was absolutely exhilarating. It sent shivers, at the speed of a 6, down my spine and goose bumps, the size of a cricket ball, across my arms. 

It’s kind of sleepy to watch a match at 2 in the morning. I ended up catching not-too-peaceful 40 winks at an interval of 10 winks apiece.

An intimidating-looking Sri Lankan couple came on screen and the guy sitting behind me promptly informed us all that we are lucky to witness the modern day incarnation of Ravana & Mandadori!

There were quite a few members in the audience who wore blue lights on their bodies. Kinky, you’d say- it was- weird type of anklets, bracelets & necklaces that dazzled as these Men In Blue ran hither and thither every time anything remotely significant took place.

Every time Lord Rajnikanth came onto the screen, a particular southern section of the audience started clapping, shouting, hooting, and applauding, not necessarily in the same order. These expressions of admiration were way higher in decibels than the kind of clap, shout, hoot and applaud reserved for a successful Lankan wicket or a smashing India run. Just imagine, what if Lord Rajnikanth decides to join the Indian cricket team one day? He can, any day, u know- he invented the game after all.

Sachin Bhagwan G’s presence on screen was met with nothing but wonder and awe. Even if he misbatted, misballed or misfielded, he was cheered on and on and on and on. Lords, be it Sachin or Rajni G, just can never be wrong. But to say the least, Sachin does deserve to be applauded for everything that he does or doesn’t do on the cricket field. Is there a higher embodiment of craftsmanship, honesty, perseverance and humility anywhere?

All those players fielding their hearts out like Yuvraaj, Raina, Kohli et al, were given not just a round of applause but several of them and in most cases loud enough to stop a heart!

Ranbir came on the screen and waved to me! How very sweet! He was looking wonderful as usual. Saif was looking good too and surprisingly with a beard!  Moustaches too made an appearance and came in all shapes- Shahid carried it off brilliantly but Mr. Aamir, facial hair just isn’t your cup of tea.

Whatever funny little doubts I had about India winning the final were totally dispelled once I saw this:

All in all, I am quite glad I did not miss out on the opportunity of watching the final, and am real glad India won. It doesn’t matter all that much today, but that wonderful, glorious day, it truly did.

A highly recommended and fantastic article about cricket and Sachin- http://www.espncricinfo.com/magazine/content/story/509803.html

With you! For you! Always!

That's what Delhi Traffic Police would like us to believe. And I, for one, want to believe.


I called up the DTP helpline and had an interesting conversation- well, remarkable enough to be blogged about.


KC: I am calling from Vasant Kunj. This is to inform you that a traffic signal situated at the T-point of Sector D1 is not working. It starts working at 8:05 in the morning but before that, it does not and this leads to major traffic jams in the area.
DTP Official: What is the red light number?
KC: I do not know.
DTPO: What is the red light name?
KC: I do not know. (Inner mulling- do red lights have names? Like Ram, Shayam, Tom?)
DTPO: How can I help then Madam? I need to know where exactly the red light is…
KC: It is at the turn for Sector D1.
DTPO: (Very patiently) That does not help me Madam. I don't know where Sector D1 is, I haven't been there. I need a prominent landmark.
KC: Well, there is an Aggarwal Sweets nearby.
DTPO: (Absolutely patronizingly) Well, there is an Aggarwal Sweets around every corner. How does that help me?
KC: (Inventing wildly & a tad forcefully) It is known as the Sector D1 red light. That's the landmark.
DTPO: Fine. Ok. We'll see what can be done.
KC: Thank you. How will I follow-up on this complaint? As in how can I track the status?
DTPO: Follow? Track? (Long breath and in a tone taken to talk to a 5 year old) You will know when the red light starts working, won't you?
KC: (Hangs head in shame) Yes, of course. Thank you.


At the end of this chit-chat I realized that I am no where close to being teez than a panchvi pass. As rightly pointed out, I should have had my facts ready. And what do I need to track anyway- the number of jalebis the DTPO will have at Aggarwal Sweets?


Blatantly ignoring my logical incompetency here, let's focus on the outcome of this particular call. I logged a complaint last Thursday. This Monday the stop light was working. That is the kind of power the police is dispensing to the local populace these days. In fact, it is quite possible that the traffic sign was rectified over the weekend and was fully operational by Sat or Sun but then I did not take the trouble to ascertain that, did I?


I would like to take this opportunity to sincerely thank the DTPO and I think it's amazingly awesome that suddenly we have such a proactive traffic police force- a body that is both smart and savvy. For someone who stays miles away from social networking sites, I find it amusing that even I am aware that Delhi Traffic Police is now on Facebook. When responsible citizens bring to light gross traffic violations for the convenience of the police, the DTP's page status goes: "Relax and chill people. We are looking into all complaints and grievances!" How kewl!


Please do visit the DTP web site. It has fun poetry like:

Accident brings tear, safety brings cheer.
Don't be a hell mate, wear helmet.
Don't be rash, let's you crash.
Caution and care make crashes rare.

Also, have a dekko at http://www.delhitrafficpolice.nic.in/trivia.htm

And then on a serious note, it's commendable that there is a growing sense of accountability and responsibility all around. Cheers to a brighter, safer and hassle-free future of traffic in Delhi!

Poetic Compliment!

My tribute to Pablo Neruda’s Book of Questions:

Does brightness conceal the coat of dark or does darkness hide behind the cover of light?

Do colors truly ever mix?

Can music live without instruments?

Where can I buy sleep?

Why do stars hide when they are needed the most?

How loud is the breaking of a heart?

What color is the sky when it’s feeling blue?

10 Reasons Why People Create A Blog And Then Ignore It

Reason 10: Somebody (of course a well wisher with the sincerest intentions) told them that they can write.


Reason 9: They know and believe that they can write.


Reason 8: They are laziness-personified. They idolize Garfield and believe that inherent lethargy is a genetic trait that cannot and should not be messed with. They like to stretch the idea that a personal blog can never be updated, to its maximum limit so that the idea itself snaps with a loud creak. Was it that or the sound made by suddenly moving bones that have been idle for ages?


Reason 7: They, by fluke, once sent a piece of their work that they really despised, to an online writing reviewer/tutor. The tutor appreciated and encouraged their work but they firmly believe that the tutor was a habitual drunk who cannot be trusted.


Reason 6: They have a personal TV recently moved in their room. They watch one series after another and the re-runs and end up being zonked out and in general an idiot.


Reason 5: They think they can write.


Reason 4: They get the weirdest issues to resolve at work. They end up replacing a single beautiful simplest line of code in the world with 30 lines of the wackiest ugliest piece of code every seen by humankind. And then ensuring that this clutter ends up looking the same on Internet Explorer, Firefox, Chrome and whatever-is-the-name-of-the-newest-browser. Not that anyone said that office hours (total hours minus hours spent taking tea/lunch/chit-chat/loo breaks) are meant for writing blogs but that's not what we are talking about, are we?


Reason 3: And if killer work is not trying to strangulate them, it's Mother Nature taking her revenge. Sometimes the scorching sun tries to fry them, other times vengeful clouds attempt to drown them. As if Delhi traffic and roads were not enough to bring them in close contact with death everyday, the climate decided to join the slaughter party too.


Reason 2: They have the attention span of a fly. There are so many things happening in the immediate surroundings that it becomes humanly impossible for them to retain their focus. And so when they are trying to keep up with world events, they have a dekko at other writers' blogs and repeatedly question their self what was I thinking and then, more importantly, why was I thinking?


Reason 1: They feel they can write.

Hindi Ki Tangi

I come across this foot-board everyday and every time I wonder what these words mean. I also wonder why exactly my Hindi is so very poor. I could easily do a Googli and figure out the meaning but I kind of wanted to ascertain my depth of Hindi illiteracy and also to know how many fellow country men and women are as bad as I am, if not worse. So, if you happen to visit the blog and know the correct meaning of any of the words depicted above and listed below, do leave your comment and contribute towards my national tongue GK. Thanks in advance!


A showcase of my limited knowledge:


Steel Plate- This I know!
Phatte- I think wooden planks and not Chak de phatte.
Pallu- The sari wala Pallu?
Chali Balli- Did they mean Chalu Billi?
Kolam- No idea.
Pani Ka Drum- This I know know!
Jeene- Ladder, if me not wrong.
Lafa- One tight slap?


As you can see, any help will be highly appreciated.

Angrezi Khana Anyone?

This is an actual menu from a real restaurant at a place called Ayas, Turkey.

KUJUK AYAS FAMILY RESTRANT


INGLIZ MENUYU


SOAP


Ayas soap
Turkish tripte soap
Sheeps foot
Macaront
Water pies


EATS FROM MEAT


Deuner kepab with pi
Kebap with green pe
Kebap in paper
Meat pide
Kebap with mas patato
Samall bits of meat grilled
Almb chops


VEGETABLES


Meat in earthenware stev pot
Stfue goreen pepper
Stuffed squash
Stuffed tomatoes z
Stuffed cabbages lea
Leek with finced meat
Clery


SALAD


Brain salad
Cacik - a drink made ay ay
And cucumber


FRYING PANS


Fried aggs
Scram fried aggs
Scrum fried omlat
Omlat with brain


SWEETS AND RFUITS


Stewed atrawberry
Nightingales nests
Virgin lips
A sweet dish of thinsh of batter with butter
Banane
Meon
Leeches

Circa- 1986; Source- In Xanadu, William Dalrymple

Disclaimer!

What with Gulzar sahib being dragged into a controversy that I believe shouldn’t even exist in the first place, no one in this country seems to be creatively safe. Ibn Batuta Pehen Ke Joota, Nikal Pade Toofan Mein is the line that’s caused plagiarism charges to fly up and down, left and right. And Ibn Batuta, Bagal Mein Joota is the line that’s caused Hindi poet Sarveshwar Dayal Saxena to jump and twist in his grave. Somehow everyone seems to totally have overlooked the fact that Mr. Ibn Batuta did exist and that too non-controversially. Did he or did he not have a Joota, that’s the pertinent question to ponder over.


Anyway, what this little fracas has done is that it has made me realize that I am such a chor. Super-chor, in fact. I get inspired my some many quotes/expressions/phrases/sayings etc and these inspirations end up as titles or even sentences on my blog that I’m sure in the current let’s-give-credit-where-it’s-due atmosphere I’ll end up being beaten up by Rashtriya/AntarRashtriya Sahitya Sevak goons.


So, just so that I don’t end up in a dump or drain, I’m going to set the record straight and go ahead and express my heartfelt apologies to all those individuals to whom I may have caused irreparable harm, both knowingly or unknowingly. Additionally, I avow that no copywrite infringement was ever intended or unintended, and absolutely none whatsoever, zilch, financial gain is being made!


I am an Idiot- Are you?- To the team of Aamir, VVC and Rajkumar Hirani. And just to on the safe side, sorry Chetan too.


Back!- To my no-longer-there Yoga teacher.


Bow Wow- To the RHD and his doggy.


Shayari Sunao Madam?- To all the residents of Fatehpur Sikri including the goats.


No Kidding!- To Rakhi Sawant. Okay, strike that- no way am apologizing to her!


Aana Jaana- To the Gujjar community and as an extension to the Meenas.


Khel Khel Mein- To a lot of people here- MCD, CWG, CAG, CM SD, all the places and spots in Delhi- the list continues and so do my sorrys.


Kaminey- Dhan Te Nan!- Again, to loads of people- the entire creative of Kaminey. I am the biggest kamini!


A Sawaal of Crores- To Deepika Padukone and to Saif too- I apologize on behalf of my sister!


Bhainth of a Lifetime- To my weirdly-loving brother. If the comments are any indication, I got quite a lot of flak already.


Aai La! She-lie-a!- To Shiela Ma’am and her ideology.


Pic of the Year!- To the Pandit dudes.


Harry Potter and the Nostalgia of July- To Harry, J. K. Rowling and all the wizards and witches in the world.


A tale of 3 subzees- To Ghiya, Tori, Tinda, Parwal, Karela.


We Don’t Need No Reservation- To Pink Floyd. And no, no apologies to male politicians.


TPA- To the staff at Rockland Hospital.


AngLes and DeMoans- To the workers at Sangam theatre and the makers of “Kafann”.


Déjà Vu!- To the staff at Fortis Hospital.


Dung Ho!- To hyenas and their shit.


The thing is- did I even need to go through all this trouble? My blog is so very unknown, it may almost be non-existent in this big bad world where the words inspiration and copy can be used interchangeably. I think I’m gonna continue with the chori and bezaati, I don’t know any other form of writing and that’s the only thing I should be sorry about!

Back!

No, I'm not giving a long-winded explanation for my absence from the blog world. What I am really giving is an account of a back-breaking pain that I had well, in my back.


It started yesterday and after prolonged pondering I have realized it was because the Yoga teacher made me do crocodile pose four, or was it five? All I know is that had I shed tears, they wouldn't have been crocodile ones. Just goes on to prove that humans shouldn't even think of competing with animals when we can't even pose like them without subjecting ourselves to intolerable pains and aches.


The unbearable agony resulted in making me look like a question mark. That's how way bent I was while trying to walk/crawl/sit/stand. Once I sat, I had no idea how I'd stand and once I stood I had no idea how I'd sit. Quite a lot of fun, all in all- believe me when every moment of your life becomes an all-encompassing mystery you do tend to enjoy it.


My favorite song these days happens to be Karvate badalte rahe saari raat hum or rather trying to karvate badlofy. Quite hummable and the song can be sung back to back during the entire process of turning on one's side. And oddly enough when after a lifetime you do manage to complete the elusive curve, by hanging on to a blanket, bedspread, bed sheet, brother, you congratulate yourself as if you've passed your endurance testing military task with flying colors. Talk about a twisted spine.


By the way, I am absolutely fine now. Ok, well, I am not a question mark anymore, more or less like a comma.


P.S. - Concerned and encouraging people- no apparent reason for staying away from the blog. I just have been plain old lazy, I guess. Posing like a possum in shav asaan.

Bow Wow

Tail of the Week

Once upon a time in the neighborhood of Vasant Kunj, two carefree sisters went out for their daily evening walk. A Rich, Handsome Dude was out too accompanied by his mean, vicious dog. The dog, being true to its evil nature, tried to attack the helpless sisters, but the RHD, being true to his heroic nature, pulled in the dog's rein in time and prevented any untoward incident. The sisters, after their cries of exclamation, were just about in the process of thanking their savior when he severely scolded his canine companion and shouted "Pagal Hai Kya Tu?". The sisters tried to curb their laughter but to no avail and they chuckled happily ever after.

Don't really know the end of the tale as couldn't stay back long enough to hear the dog's arguments!

Inspirational Messages!

I, like quite a few people, have been at the receiving end of particularly inspirational SMSs over the past few days:

From INLD

Sab ko bijli, paani, rozgar milega.
Haryana wasio ka bhavishy khilega.
Oct 13 ko Haryana me fir se khushhali laye.
Ainek pe buttton dabakar INLD ki sarkar banaye.

Haven't really been so very poetically inspired to vote before.

From Be Safe

This Diwali Save India from Fake Notes (Nakli Note).
Gift Fake Note Detector, Paper Shredder, Currency Counting Machine, Electronic Safe.

Haven't really been so very genuinely inspired to gift either!

No Kidding!

A popular tourist destination weekend getaway package includes:

• Accommodation for a couple for 2 nights & 3 days in Deluxe / Swiss Cottage Tents
• Welcome drinks on arrival
• Bed Tea, Breakfast and Dinner
• Free guided soft trek to riverside
• 1 free rock climbing & rappelling session
• 1 hr roller skating free for two days
• Visit to water mill
• Child below 5 years free
• 1 surprise gift

I am sorry, but when exactly did I ask for a free child? I was just innocently inquiring about the tour details. Last time I checked, I wasn't even invited to compete on "Pati, Patni & Woh".

Overlooking the sentence-construction lapse above, it seems people have really taken quite avidly to this give-up-your-child-to-strangers game. First, they enthusiastically give up their kids as playthings; second, they enter their nastiest creation in the competition. I mean, do you honestly do not sympathize with Ms. / Mrs. Rakhi Sawant when she tiredly complains "Mujhe jaan pucch ke aisa bacha diya hai jo sota nahin!" C'mon people, whatever happened to fair competition?

My sincerest sympathies Rakhi. I mean, I'd totally freak out too if I'd plan a vacation and suddenly end up with a child below 5 years as a free surprise gift. But well, you chose to be part of a weird and silly contest and you are getting loads of money for it, so we won't go there.

Certainly no kid's matter this and nothing to kid about either!

Aana Jaana

Saw this sign on the front bumper of a Maruti 800:

Gujjar Aa Rahe Hai

Saw this sign on the rear bumper of the same Maruti 800:

Gujjar Jaa Rahe Hai

Oh! Me and my aimless directionless life!

Rainy Rumble!

Rain, rain, go away,
Please don't come again another day.
Sheila Ma'am wants to play,
And host the Common Wealth Games.
But, if it rains the way it rains,
Delhi will only be in pain.
Roads cave in, traffic's a snail,
Trees fall, life's a drain.
So, next year gentle Rain be fair and kind,
Only visit Delhi at your appointed time.
Lest the work we do for the khels,
Is wrecked and we put to shame!

Khel Khel Mein

As Delhi gears up and tightens her belt (or will it turn into a noose?) to host the 19th Common Wealth Games, officials from the UK, Australia and Canada express concern over the lax security arrangements. Misters UK, A and C, where and when does the question of security loom if the infrastructure to host the event will not be in place by the scheduled time for the games? As per the Comptroller and Auditor General (CAG) report, 13 out of 19 sports venues evaluated are at high risk of failing deadline as work shortfall is between 25% and 50%. But as Dixit ma'am so very dispassionately assures us all the time that everything is hunky-dory, I think I am going to, for once, place my trust in the establishment. So, this essentially implies that if Lord Shiva doesn't get angry and performs his tandav, Kali Mata doesn't get pissed and brings out her tiger or Lord Krishna doesn't get agitated and spins his chakra, the Common Wealth Games will be definitely held in time on time. But let's say, for argument sake, these bhagwans do in some way impede the games, shouldn't we mortals be prepared? Shouldn't we have a contingency plan in place in order to thwart the vagaries of nature? Well, before any of these Gods decide to play a game with my life, I'll get down to business- I, hereby, propose the Uncommon Poverty Khels. There are 17 disciplines planned for the 2010 Commonwealth Games and here's my take on each:

Aquatics: Venue- Dwarka Underpass (obviously water-filled); Yamuna River
Procedure- Contestants to swim vertically in the underpass pool.
Contestants to deep-dive in Yamuna river; extra points will be awarded for retrieving coins from the river bed.

Archery: Venue- Indian Parliament
Procedure- Contestants to aim at apples placed atop the heads of lined-up politicians; extra points will be awarded for tearing a heart.

Athletics: Venue- Outer Ring Road; Chirag Delhi Nalla
Procedure- Contestants to race against blue line buses.
Contestants to jump over a nalla; extra points will be awarded for cleaning the nalla.

Badminton: Venue- Chandni Chowk
Procedure- Contestants to play Terrace Badminton in the walled city using Dahi Bhalle; extra points will be awarded for not ingesting the bhalla.

Boxing: Venue- Delhi Police Stations
Procedure- Contestants to box policemen; extra points will be awarded for avoiding a custodial death.

Cycling: Venue- BRT Corridor
Procedure- Contestants to cycle alongside the corridor; extra points will be awarded for surviving at the end of the race.

Gymnastics: Venue- Roadside Electric Poles
Procedure- Contestants to perform acrobatics on electric poles and naked wires; extra points will be awarded for not getting electrocuted.

Hockey: No comments- Hockey is India's National Game. (Ok, ok- I couldn't think of anything appropriate; or should the word be inappropriate?)

Lawn Bowls: Venue- Sadar Bazaar
Procedure- Contestants to roll balls on the market floor; extra points will be awarded for not hitting a shopper.

Netball: Venue- Roadside Hoardings
Procedure- Contestants to net the ball on nets fixed on billboards; extra points will be awarded for defacing the advertisement.

Rugby Sevens: Venue- Metro Station; IGI Terminals; Railway Stations
Procedure- Contestants to jostle and elbow crowds at the said venues, to board identified modes of transport; extra points will be awarded for not sweating.

Shooting: Venue- Indian Parliament
Procedure- Contestants to aim at berries placed atop the heads of lined-up politicians; extra points will be awarded for rupturing an eye. (Aren't apples expensive?)

Squash: Venue- MCD Office
Procedure- Contestants to be escorted by the MCD staff to various locations in Delhi that have been identified for demolition, to play squash against the walls of these illegal structures; extra points will be awarded for not getting demolished themselves.

Table Tennis: Venue- Roadside Dhabas
Procedure- Contestants to whack at mosquitoes on dhaba tables.

Tennis: Venue- Chandni Chowk
Procedure- Contestants to play Terrace Tennis in the walled city; extra points will be awarded for eavesdropping and reporting the goings-on in the locality.

Weightlifting: Venue- Metro Station
Procedure- Contestants to lift cement blocks used for Metro pillars.

Wrestling: Venue- Any Delhi Road
Procedure- Contestants to wrestle with cows, cattle, horses, pigs, camels, elephants- in fact any animal of their choice that they encounter on the road and to steer these animals towards safe houses; extra will be awarded for cleaning the animals' poo.

So, as per the games' slogan, I have completed my "Come out and Play" part.

My only hope is no one from the Delhi government comes across this little piece; else I'm so very dead. I will be like shot in the middle of the street and my body will be left at the mercy of MCD-disowned, rabies-stricken dogs. Ouch, wouldn't that hurt!

A Sawaal of Crores

Dost: Movie dekhi weekend par?
Me: Nahin- koi thi he nahin
Dost: Love, Aaj Kal?
Me: Naa- can't watch that in a theatre- I don't like Deepika Padukone @ all!
Dost: Does she?

Bhainth of a Lifetime

I have been pestering my bro this year to get me a proper gift for Raakhi. Every year he passes on the money that my parents pass him on when my sis and I complete the tying-the-wrist-with-funky-thread ceremony. I know it is really unfair on my part since bhai is still a student and nowhere near earning his own money but it’s so much fun troubling him and it’s nothing in comparison to the torture I face at his hands all the time.

So, in view of my constant harassment, yesterday he did get me a gift- my Rakhshabandhan Bhainth- a pair of Rayban sunglasses.

• He absolutely swears by the fact that the shades are authentic which of course, they aren’t.
• He maintains that they look good on me, which they in no way do. They are so large- they cover half of my face and reach the upper jaw. I wonder if they even are meant to be worn on the eyes.
• He insists that tilt is not a flaw in the design but a brand new innovation.
• He claims that he can see the world after putting them on- I can’t even see my own hand.
• He states that they are for 100 bucks (the shopkeeper started at 250!), though I'm sure they didn’t cost more than 10/-.
• He declares that in case I don’t appreciate this pair he’ll get another one for me in any tint I want- blue, green, purple, brown, yellow - I just have to name the color- how about a color that cannot be dyed or painted on plastic? (Okay, it’s not plastic- but it still is weird.)

Well, no more Raakhi gifts for me- Thanks but no Thanks!

TPA

There's something about Hospitals and their sign-boards and well, me. Another hospital- Rockland this time and another sign-board that read- Cash/TPA.

My brother and I had a lot of time to kill so we decided to spend it by figuring out what-the-blazes-in-the-world could TPA stand for. The following are the few full-forms (in decreasing order of relevance and sense) we came up with till we got fed up with the exercise and asked a nurse what it did mean after all.

Total Payable Amount
Therapeutic Painless Administration
Third Person Account
Total Patients Admitted
Total Pain Alleviated
Total Patient Aaram
Troubled Patients Allowed
Talli/Tun Patients Approved
Temperature Pain Ache
Throat Protection Apparatus
Tooth Pick Ache
Toxic Pathogen Ascertained
Tauba Patients Aaye
Tonight's Party Arranged
Theoretical Practical Analytical
Toilet Paper Association
Throw Pillow Around
Tum Pass Aaye
Tootha Phoota Association
Tohar Paise Amaar

The thing is what TPA stands for happens to be Third Party Administrators. How very boring!

The Fall and Rise of Roger Federer

Another Sunday. Another Men's Grand Slam Final. Another jam-packed stadium. The only thing out of place was the finalist. Conspicuous by his absence was Federer's nemesis- Rafa, his place taken by a snowed under Soderling. And, as if by divine intervention, Federer finally won the elusive French Open.

What else can explain Rafael Nadal's absence from his Mecca- the clay court, if not fate? Because had he been there on the court last night, Federer would have had to fight a battle of the indomitable human spirit yet again and in all probability he would have lost- again.
Because had the Spaniard been there yesterday, he would have been in his element and exactly what he is- a bull. A non-tiring, inexhaustible veritable mine of energy. (I sometimes feel he is a mutant or a super-human, genetically engineered, perhaps?)
Because had Rafa won again, Fedex would have cried. And this time, my heart would not have gone out to him the way it did at the Australian Open finals.
But, all these things didn't happen, because destiny finally decided to bestow her smile on Federer and he did cry after all, but there was no mistaking the joy and pride in those misty, dewy eyes.

Jimmy Connors once said "In an era of specialists- you're either a clay court specialist, a grass court specialist or a hard court specialist...or you're Roger Federer."

It is generally agreed upon that Federer is the greatest tennis champion the world has seen for a while. Federer has reached where he is by sheer grit and tenacity. And he needed this win- not to prove to the world the champion that he is, but to vindicate himself. After all, a winner needs to set personal benchmarks, to be the best of the best. And, if it really takes a little bit of luck, a certain tweaking of the circumstances, an evident absence of a worthy opponent to get a hold of what is rightfully yours, so be it. What is meant to be- will be. (He'll take care of Rafa another day!)

So, what exactly does Federer teach us? More importantly, what is that we can learn from him? The Roland Garros cup (and the other innumerable cups and shields) will always serve to remind him and all of us that perseverance and skill are always rewarded. No one can fake effort; talent is great, but determination is necessary.

Federer reminds me of the Phoenix- the mythical bird of lore- his tendency to fall but his ability to rise again; to embrace defeat but acknowledge its learning; to accept fame but be wary of its fallouts; to welcome a winning streak but always with humility; to allow tears but recognize their healing power. And that's what makes a true champion. Way to go, Fedex!

Looking forward to a Wimbledon Fed-Rafa final. And praying for an emphatic Federer win!

Deja Vu!

I came across the following sign on an elevator at Fortis Hospital:

Come Into The Hands Of Our Experts!

I am not very sure if this even requires further comment but me being me, I just can't help myself!

The sense of deja vu is creeping in from all quarters simply because I'm trying to understand if something is incredibly wrong with me or has the scientific establishment gone bonkers? It's a hospital for God's sake- they operate on all organs, they have all kinds of doctors, they administer and cure a variety of conditions but perhaps the English language is too perplexing an ailment that can be diagnosed. Or is this a straightforward case of doctoring?

I am just not ready to believe that not a single soul at the hospital recognized such a double entendre. I guess the only thing I can be thankful for is they didn't choose a phrase like- Our Experts Will Never Let You Come Again! [Back to the Hospital, of course; what were you thinking???] ;)