The Night watchman

Weather was bad, conditions were overcast. Drizzle was being faded away only due to the force of strong wind – clouds were gathering overhead and making the afternoon seem like dark evening.  There was a silence in dressing room, openers were just going out and everyone was saying their silent prayers for them to just bat through the day without any casualty.

The captain walked to him steadily and said “Pad up Jim, in case of a wicket, you will have to go and weather it out till end of day’s play.’’

Jim was playing in that team as a fast bowler, however he loved batting too – and did not like to throw away his wicket. He was gritty by nature and a team man to the core.  A chance to go out as a night-watchman in troublesome weather was exactly the kind of challenge that he loved to take up, something that is unnerving but exciting at the same time.

Innings started and soon it came out that it was going to be a rough ride. Not only was the weather making it difficult, the pitch was also vicious – lots of irregular bounce and two paced behaviour. It was an openers’ nightmare.  The look on their face said that worst of their nightmares had come true.

Fall of wicket was merely a matter of time; it seemed to Jim, he was all set from the word go to go out there and fight it out for his team.  He had done that in past and backed himself for repeating the feat. As he sat with his safety gears on, the images of that innings flashed across his mind – it is surprising how vivid memories are!

A sudden roar from the opposition team brought Jim back to present, he realized there was an appeal – ball had taken up sharply from good length and put the batsman in awkward position and also took an edge of his glove.

“Take it easy Jim” – he heard as he stood up after seeing the umpire raising his figure to indicate the fall of first wicket.

Jim was a dear friend of mine and I was supporting his team, praying for him to salvage it for a few overs so that umpires can probably realize how bad the lights were and call it a day. There were some fine batsmen in his team and I wanted to watch them bat tomorrow in bright day light. As a fan of the game, sight of glistening red cricket ball under the sunshine was one of the finest views I had cherished – the overcast conditions were ruining it.

Just as I saw Jim walking out, a fantastic analogy struck my mind of how much I shared with him at this particular moment.

Indeed, being fan of Indian cricket at this point of time is akin to be a night-watchman. The dark secrets of corruption, poisonous accusations of conflict of interest, politicization of the game’s governing body, suppression and misrepresentation of facts from various entities leave us all in a very fragile state – just like that of a night watchman walking out to fight out on a difficult wicket and weather conditions.

My prayer is as much for myself as it is for Jim, I hope we both bat out this tough time safely without any further damage so that we can see that red cherry shining under bright light in days to come! 

Holi – The morning after

Did any colour I splashed on you, leave a stain? Somewhere on you?

Blue that we used in beginning briefly,

or the yellow that I loved to see on you so much?

Red, used with passion of both - love and anger?

Or the running water of time has cleansed every corner of your existence completely?

The lowland By Jhumpa Lahiri

The Lowland offers a different perspective to one of the most intriguing macro level socio-economic problems of modern India through a micro level narrative. It is a story of a young man, a man who is both – a martyr and a traitor both at once. What makes the story more poignant is the fact that consequences of his choice continues to haunt and impact all those whom he loved dearly, even after his death.

With every character the writer successfully brings out deep existential anxieties and eccentricities to the fore. It is this masterful ability to present layers of personalities of her characters that makes Jhumpa Lahiri such an accomplished story teller.

Unable to reconcile with rumours and revelations of their son’s activities after his death, Udayan’s parents chose to find peace in insanity and lost the touch with real life just because it had become too hard to handle for their deprecated bodies and minds. Indeed, seeing one’s son being killed in front of their eyes would not have been easy. His father simply turned ignorant and mother forgetful. Their life was debilitating and disturbing on the east coast of India –and when contrasted with the life Subhash led on the east coast of America, it gave Subhash a pang of yearning for taking better care of his parents.  He felt deeply betrayed by his own self, unable to justify and accept that steps that seemed to righteous at the time he took them turned so unjust and even heinous as time passed.

 Subhash and Udayan – central characters of the story were inseparable brothers as children. However, as they grew up their paths diverged, Subhash went on to Rhode Island to pursue his doctoral studies and Udayan let the communist ideology consume his life, completely. Subhash always felt a touch inferior to Udayan, even though he was elder to him – he felt Udayan always had a little more of everything than he had. In his attempts to involve Subhash in the ideological battle he was fighting, Udayan asserted himself even more fiercely, causing Subhash deep existential anxieties. Subhash wasn’t able to understand if his inability to join the movement was mere cowardice or something else.

After Subhash departs Udayan’s life takes a new turn when he met a girl named Gauri, another important character of the novel. Udayan married Gauri – on receiving the news, Subhash felt a mixed emotion – that of happiness for his brother and a feeling of having been overtaken – as per Indian family tradition being an elder brother he should have married first. Udayan’s parents don’t accept Gauri and though they had no courage to oppose Udayan and let her live in their house, they always stayed recluse from her, Gauri too made no attempts to bridge the divide – they continued going farther away with each passing day.

Feeling a need to anchor the troubled family life Subhash decided to marry Gauri – giving a rationale of the future of unborn child. Subhash’s mother admonished him warning that Gauri wasn’t mature enough to become a mother and that she should be the one who would take care of the child. Subhash did not pay heed to his mother, married Gauri and took her to America. Gauri also accepted the step, more because of lack of option than by choice.

Their marriage was never easy, Subhash pained with inferiority complex, even with his wife and Gauri pained with sense of infidelity towards Udayan’s ghost cannot offer each other any comfort. Their only hope was Bela – Gauri’s daughter.

 Subhash made Bela the sole purpose of his life and though scared by the fact of Bela’s discovery that he was not really her father but only uncle – he really proved himself a better father than Udayan could ever be. Gauri constantly found herself to be inferior parent as compared to Subhash and left both of them to pursue her studies of philosophy.

After Gauri left Subhash raised Bela – initially with great troubles and deep impact on child but later both adjusted to the situation and helped each other fill the deepest voids of their lives.

The Lowland, alongside of a macro level issue of Naxal movement, describes very personal story of struggle of each of its characters minutely. It provides just enough details and leaves the conclusions to the readers. There are numerous occasions where readers are likely to get judgmental about the actions characters took, in the story, however seen from the point of view of these characters they only seem natural and real reactions.

In an ideological struggle of our times, we too have choices, and perhaps the strongest point this story makes is that our choices have impact on lives that are irrevocably related with our own, could this realization help soothe the sharp ideological battles we see?   

Why do I like stories....

A long time friend, market researcher, mother of one and an energetic editor’s message flashed at the right bottom corner of my computer screen. “Do you read stories?”  read the text, no “hi” no “Hello” – to  the point, terse and direct – but that’s her style. (One that I have come to appreciate a lotJ)

“Yes,” I wrote back, “Why” was added as an afterthought and quickly followed that with, “It depends on the story actually yaar, but in general I like stories.”

“Why do you like stories?” she further asked, in quintessentially market researcher style. I knew this was a beginning of one of the very interesting conversations and I had to gather my thoughts well for it. so I asked her for some time and told that I will compose my response and share it over the email next year. (It was last week of December so she was quite cool with my deadline.)

Following are my thoughts about what makes me like stories. If a story is good on following points, I like reading/listening to it.

1. Characters: They give life to the events in stories; they are the ones we relate ourselves to. Figment of authors’ imaginations or reflections of her reality, characters that stay with us for long are the ones that touch a chord in our heart.  It is said of characters that, a writer should know a lot more of the character than he puts down in a story, only when you know each of your character that well, can they come to life and stay alive for long. Best example of how long a character lives can be found right from the characters of holy books to the heroes of bollywood movies.

Of story-tellers I have read, I find Tagore best as far as knowing his character is concerned. He demonstrates amazing dexterity at presenting his characters that you almost start believing that they are real people taken out of our own lives. Another one comes to mind when it comes to being extremely adept at presenting characters is P.G. Wodehouse, Reginald Jeeves and Bertram Wooster – his most famous characters are still quite alive in minds of his readers. Similar examples can be found in more popular parlance of bollywood as well, for example Bob Biswas of a film Kahani and Phaijal of Gangs of Wasseypur are some of the characters that stick in one’s mind for long time even after one has watched the film. 

2. Storyline: Imaginative and captivating storylines are must for a good story, there has to be an event about which you would like to talk. Every situation for which you can hold someone’s hand and say “Hey listen… “is a potential of an awesome story. J Storyline is the one which provides space to the author to paint story in her favourite colours. You can weave suspense, drama, surprise, romance and various other themes that most interest you through the storyline.

For story-lines, I find R.K. Narayanan most interesting. Not only because of the delicate fabrics that he weaves his stories with but also because the great care he takes in painting smaller details of the plot.  It takes great sensitivity to take care of all those details in one’s storyline. Popularly famous for his lyrics in Bollywood, Gulzar is also one of the writers whose storylines are very good, rich and engaging.

 3. Dialogues: Storyline and characters are skeleton of a story, they way they interact, behave and unfold are the flesh and blood, hence we remember most characters and dialogues, “Kitne aadmi the?” 

In terms of dialogues, best example is timeless genius, Shakespeare. Another playwright, I have had a chance to read, Arthur Miller, (Marilyn Monroe fame) has been extremely engaging with his dialogues.  In Bollywood, Vishal Bhardwaj, carries flames ignited by Shakespeare and writes really good dialogues in some of his films.

4. Sequencing/ (screenplay): This refers to the order in which incidents happen in the story, one must bear in mind that reader doesn’t have any background of the story you are telling. So you need to be detailed without sounding dragging. This balance is a key to interesting and engaging story-telling/writing. J There are no formulas but practice usually helps getting it right.

Any page turner book will usually be awesome on its screenplay as, it is sequencing that mainly drives suspense, and keeps readers hooked to it.  Harry Potter and some of the other thrillers are good examples of able sequencing of events in stories.  

One tip that I personally find useful is to tell a lot of stories in day to day life, describe events to friends, parents, spouses, elders, kids whosoever listens to you. Try and make them fall in love with what you describe.

What starts with a Bang, doesn’t have to end with a whimper! Not at least with KP

He has been a star! One with most astonishing shine and glitter!

He is distinct; one noticed almost immediately – thanks to his broad stance at batting crease, his stylish hairstyle, tattoos on biceps which stare at every bowler when he pulls sleeves of his half sleeve jersey as if getting ready to launch into an attack. His aggressive eyes which are not altogether bereft of boyish mischievousness are as expressive as his candid encounters with media.  He has the best gift anyone in any competitive arena wants, gift of standing out of the lot, raising the standards and inspiring many in process of doing so!

Right from the time he debuted for his county team, there was no second opinion on the fact that he was a gifted sportsman.  He is right at the top of that niche and rare lot of cricketers who have lifted the cricket to new heights by defying its traditional, accepted and orthodox ways.  The way he swivels his entire body while playing switch hit is inexplicable, it is hard to describe the amount of amazement such a stroke brings to a cricket lover.  His contests with greats of game like Murali, Warne, McGrath and Steyn are cricket lovers’ ultimate delight.  He is just as good at playing unorthodox shots like switch hit; reverse sweeps and short armed jabs as he is at some of the most classical strokes like straight drives, cover drives and square cuts.

 

As a fan of game and of KP the news about the end of his international career for England came as a rude jolt.  Agreed that he was not the easiest guys in dressing room, past bruised with similar altercations, strained relationships with team-mates and a team going through one of its roughest rides but even all of that put together was sufficient reason to stab a potentially great career like this midway. Was there no way out of stalemate between ECB and KP?

Wasn't one of the finest ethics of any sport is to stand by one another and not against one another in tough times? Wasn't it KP who contributed a lion’s share in regaining Ashes after a long draught of 18 years in 2005? Wasn't he instrumental in beating India in India in recent past? – a feat that few international sides would be able to boast of.

He deserved better, no doubt. And perhaps that’s the reason it hurts to see him go like this. One more reason we feel hurt is that the treatment dished out to KP is a more extreme version of injustice all of us face almost inevitably in everyday life. In our interactions with bureaucracy in private of public institutions we often find ourselves at one end and the entire organization on the other. In this case, ECB and the English cricket team ganged up against KP.  Weak as most of us are we often resign in confrontation of this kind – we believe in toeing the line, not KP, he has come back once from a duel like this and I am hopeful he will come back again too.

Book review - I am Life by Shraddha Soni, reviewed by Dhruv

As an aspiring author, I am always interested in other people’s first books. It is this first book that transforms normal people like me into “Authors”.  

Recently I got a chance to read a book titled “I am Life”, it was the first book of the author and in paragraphs that follow, and I will try to convey my view of this book.

This book deals with an ambitious topic, philosophy, meaning and purpose of one’s life. For a first book, this is mighty ambitious a topic, but to author’s credit it is nicely justified through the micro level story of its protagonist, Siddharth Khanna.

Book starts like any other first time thriller initially but soon turns into a dense and heavy read because of the inquisitiveness, tensions and turmoil experienced by Siddharth.  Siddharth loses his job, wealth, home, family and every other possession overnight, when his wife separates from him through divorce to end an unhappy marriage.  He is shown to be extremely upright and individualistic, in the beginning, not caring about anyone but himself. The sudden loss shatters his veneers of strength, he wants to find god and ask him why such a thing has happened to him.

In his quest, he goes back to India; he roams in various Ashrams and visits many Gurus in order to find the mental equilibrium, the poise which can help him understand purpose of his life.  However nothing seems to be helping.

The more he tries to question life and expect answers in return the more complex and messy it gets. His struggle seems to be reaching nowhere, he even thinks about suicide, and then he meets Myrah. Myrah, initially, seems to be one of the women with whom Siddharth will eventually share bed and move ahead, part in regret part in fun.  

However, later readers realize that Myrah is a figment of imagination from the author. She teaches Siddharth to open up to life, to let life take control and steer his way through.

The message that book gives out is really good one, all of us at times try to control life way too much by focusing either on past or in future  - this approach can steer us away from life way too much. In times like these we must connect to life, surrender to the plans it has for us rather than fighting with it.

There are some parts where this book doesn’t really live up to expectations. Names of characters, turns of events, their psyche and way of thinking is too stereotype and lacks freshness. There are lots of threads which are left loose and author really has to conclude everything in last few pages using summary of end results. Ideally it would have been wonderful had the end been woven into the story and not separately.

Repairing a puncture

Just as I took out my bicycle to go on a short ride, on a Sunday morning, I realized that its front tyre had gone flat. I walked it to a nearby shop where the shopkeeper filled it with air for a cost of couple of rupees.  Just as he was filling it, he looked at it suspiciously, and asked me to wait for a few minutes before moving. As he seemed to have thought, the front tyre again went flat.

“Punctured?” I asked, a little annoyed at fate. He smiled and indicated that he would be able to fix it in five minutes once he has settled his tool-kit.

He asked me to put my bicycle next to his tool-kit and set on to his task to repair a puncture. At first he took out the tyre and checked the outer surface for any sharp object that might have caused the puncture in first place, quietly he ran through the entire tyre, looking sensitively for anything that needed to be removed. On not finding anything obvious, he wasn’t disappointed – he pushed the sides of the tyre a little and plucked the tube from within, slowly took out the entire inner tube out, a little by little. Once the tube was out, he filled it with air again and passed it through a bucket of water, small portion at a time, in order to check for bubbles to identify a possible puncture. After a while, he finally succeeded and found the puncture. After a little bit of scrubbing with rough glass paper, he put a solution and taped the punctured area well, blew some air in order to dry the solution. He then checked the remaining tube for any other punctures, and then put the tube again in the tyre, carefully plugged it in and refilled it with more air. And then finally put the tyre back, fixed the bolts and put my bicycle in front of me with a triumphant smile.

While seeing all this, a fascinating analogy ran through my mind as I was contemplating a journey. Just like the bicycle we also undertake so many journeys and roads are not always perfect. As our bicycle runs through the lanes of life it might get punctured once in a while, a thorn came, or a bad pot-hole, a careless run on a surface where broken pieces of glass were spread – or just plain depreciation by multitudes of runs and neglected care. All these things can cause punctures in our life, and in order to be quick, nimble and fully functional we must fix these occasional punctures too.

In the context of above thought, skills of puncture repairing seemed one of the most important life skills. How wonderful it would be if one were to be able to take out the entire inner side once in a while and check for possible punctures, and fix if any.

I am sure many of us possess this skill; the need is perhaps only to let the surface run through, inwards examined and repaired if needed!!

Bicycle is now up and running!!