Rant 88: I miss you

I am about to embark upon a new chapter in my life. It will take place in a foreign land. I will be taking on an educational challenge that will define my career, meeting new people, building on some acquaintances, and continuing a very special relationship. I cannot begin to describe how excited I am about this new chapter. (For brevity's sake, let's assume: I am excited).
However, I will leave behind some incredible memories and:-

1) The culmination of perhaps India's most revolutionary time since the Emergency. I do not have an opinion on the cause that "team Anna" and the government are at loggerheads over. However, the buzz about anti-corruption seems to have reached a frenzy and god help me, I might just miss that.

2) The first ever Formula One Indian Grand Prix. Like it for its thrill-a-minute excitement or hate it for the extreme waste of natural resources, the sport will gain a huge amount of attention once the five red lights go out at the Buddh International Circuit in Delhi. I will miss being a part of the action.

3) Metallica's first Indian concert. I fell to the peer pressure tactic of listening to heavy metal back in my high school days. And while I've discarded most of the bands that I thought I liked back then, Metallica remains a band that I still enjoy very much. I probably cannot tell my E flat note from my B-Major-extended-then-drop-it-down-two-notches-before-using-your-thumb-on-the-E-string chord, but the acquired listening taste towards ear-splitting music is well worth the intense neck pain from a night of drunken headbanging whilst rapidly air-guitaring. I will miss doing that on the national stage.

4) Sporting revenge. After all the back-slapping/public flogging about how England thoroughly beat the flying shit out of India was over, we realised that England probably had the upper hand thanks to home advantage. Well, among several other reasons I'm sure, but let's keep the home advantage tag for argument's sake. Well Sir! you'll find that India are top dogs in our own backyard as well! Come October and England visit India, so bloody hell, I'm going to thoroughly miss the sight of our Men in Blue exacting revenge.

Rant 87: Do you vomit Blue???

And so at last the bubble has burst. After months and months of self-aggrandisement, it has finally been proven that simply waving a flag, "having the best batting order", and the most "cunning captain in the world", cannot save a cricket team from being absolute s**t when the situation calls for it.
To all the media hacks and Ravi Shastri who claim that our batting, bowling, selection policy and Kris Srikkanth's slurred ramblings are the best, you are wrong!! Because as we all know, the hard-working Indian cricket fan is the world's greatest batsman (arrey front foot pey khelo saale bhadwe!!!), the world's greatest bowler (round the wicket pphekega toh swing karega dekhna!), and of course selector (abey woh west zone key against biased hai isliye nai choose kiya mujhe).
And so I decided to explore what the paying public had to say about the damning humiliation that has befallen our cricketers in Jolly Ol' England. The article itself does not matter too much. It could range from "Dhoni should employ more spinners" to "My grandmother with Alzheimer could have played that shot better".... I picked out the aptly titled: "Why Team India is in a state of free fall" .
The points made were astute I guess: reasons for the defeat, our under-preparedness, our selection policy, our batting, our bowling, our dinner break, and topped off with the poignant conclusion that "hah! Ganguly could have done a much better job. I told u so, but forget it, I'm off to have some misti doi"
And as predicted, a plethora of comments ensued. SK clearly had the measure of things in terms of coaches as he sounded a warning to the BCCI by claiming: "I hope this is the clear sign of lossing a GARY KRISTAN." Clearly, the players are not focused enough because we seem to have lost any memory of a coach called Gary "Kristan". Presumably Mr Kristan was the interim coach after Gary Kirsten resigned from his post.
VCjob took on the task of speaking for all the grumpy-old-men of India's middle-class, who never return the cricket ball when it lands in their front yard. We lost the match "because cricket is a freaking game of chance and Indians are wasting youngster's talent and time on this worthless game." Well said Sir! Mr Malhotra from house no. 42 will visit you soon and gift you some barfi as soon as his afternoon siesta is done and he has taken his meds for the day.
Charudatta Lamaye, in his infinite wisdom, outlined a 12-point programme for the resurrection of our fortunes, where the phrase knee-jerk reaction at last had a champion, and pearls such as "cannot judge Munaf as he did not play" wreaked havoc among the BCCI elite! This author would like to add that we also cannot judge Parthiv Patel, Ravindra Jadeja, Sunil Gavaskar, my neighbour, my neighbour's daughter and the alleyway rascal who keeps sending her rude letters, as all these characters did not play the match either.
A teary-eyed Anand Bhagwat recalled the old days, and keeping small matters like grammar and coherence completely out of the equation, bellowed: "India should play aggresively...If Ganguly is caption the were different, Indian team doesn't have face their...Its look like India is not playing there...we are Missing Sourav's agression." Quite why Ganguly would want to be the "caption" for the sorry picture of Indian cricket is unclear.
Jay, having flipped through the entire rulebook of cricket, promptly threw it out the window and concluded that cricket, after all, is a one-man game. And not just any man, but somebody who's literally broken his back for the love of the game. Yet, the immediate reaction demanded by Jay was: "Tendulkar should quit playing Test cricket as an apology to the nation." According to rumours, a visibly shocked Tendulkar later issued a press release where it was his precise intention to speak during Parliament's winter session, donate a million gallons of milk to his local temple, and whip himself dry while wearing a pink tutu and asking himself: "have I made it large??"
Ashish, fresh out of Harvard Business School and having watched his girlfriend deliver a sexy report on NDTV Profit, attempted to explain things a little more scientifically. And of course, being the financially astute gentleman he is, his analogy referred to the US and its ongoing problems. "its just one of the bad patches," he remarked. "just like the downward spiral of the Dow Index as SnP downgraded US from AAA to AA....its something similar. Kind of a jolt, nothing to be worried about. Team India still has the substance, just as US gives good returns despite being AA."
So there you go! Bums on Seats are what make our country the fine democrazy it is, and our cricket team the best damn actors to grace the Kingfisher 2011 Calendar.
There are several of us however, who worry about the real problems facing this country, and Tapan Kumar's comment at the very bottom of the page highlights concerns that I'm sure each and every one of us faces at some point in our lives.
"If appears that bengalis might have f..ked you under someones consent that's you are nervous about permanant erection."

Rant 86: Chaos is always politically correct

I've always wondered what the world looked like when the lights change...
shame a butterfly is used mostly as an unlikely example of the impending madness...


The madness spares no one, regardless of gender, race, creed, colour, or any other form of man-made distinction...when it's time to go, it's one big fucking blur...

Ah there it is!

Rant 85: Let's not forget....

...the elephant in the room called emotion...

nobody likes to be given a full dose of it

Rant 84: A day in the life of body art

If you've ever walked into(/gate-crashed-because-you're-hungry) an Indian wedding, then apart from the great quantities of food, there is perhaps no other element that characterises our love for exuberance than dresses and accessories. Gold jewellery worn as if we've run short of dresses to cover ourselves, sarees sweeping around in a sea of red, and if it's a modern Indian/NRI type pphamilee waaley, then perhaps a virtual catalogue of the latest mobiles (with so many mega-pixels thrust into them, our poor DSLRs cower in shame!)
And yet, there is one such accessory that I find is a lot more subtle. The Mehndi. Wholly traditional and much more beautiful than all the jewellery you can buy, I feel.
This simple application of Henna paste is perhaps the cheapest form of beautifying yourself, and yet it makes for some interesting times. The entire clan gets involved. The official "artist" is always somebody known to the family and is the only one who does all the decorating. However, the need to get ones hands painted is endemic, as one after the other, the women clamour to have these intricate and beautiful designs done, and in a sub-conscious way, each wants it done better than the last person's (be aware, though, that your's can/should/will NEVER be better than the bride's).

(Clockwise from top: the making, the finished product, the drying)

It also adds a different touch to how we attempt otherwise perfectly normal things...

And once the paste has dried off....

Voila! your palms are officially ready to bless the happy couple!

Rant 83: What is real beauty?

Beauty is a grey area...there is no black and white...or is there? Maybe India has a few answers to the questions of absolute beauty that my camera and I have been searching for.

Real Beauty is...

...our religious uniqueness?

...our History, as fresh as the flora that adorns it?

...the adventures of a middle-class upbringing?

...the value of simple memories?

...perhaps of a simple meal?

...our resourcefulness?

...enshrined in a fundamental right?

...the power to take a stand against injustice?

...the joys of a national passion?

...the joy of losing yourself in the moment?

...perhaps it is the realisation that the search for answers is endless?

Rant 82: Reunion

Analysing myself with a 'Wilson' after nearly two years

Rant 81: My love-hate relationship with Rain

When I was little, I hated rainy days. Absolutely did. For the simple reason that I was unable to go outside and play. Of course, this was back in the east-Indian city of Jamshedpur when the rainy season lasted no more than a month or so.
But having spent the last four-and-a-half years in the south-western part of India - where rain accounts for half the number of seasons - it's much harder to ignore it.
I'll admit, I still hate that it prevents me from going outside, but it was this very fact that allowed me to view it from a slightly different perspective today. An 18-200mm perspective to be precise!
I pursue my hobby of Lawn Tennis at a local club, which requires me to wake up at the ungodly hour of 5:30am. My bed lies just below my living room window and when I awoke this morning, I followed my usual ritual of looking up to see how much of dawn had broken, and was greeted by this (top right).
Now, this kind of opening to the day is not uncommon obviously and there have been several false alarms regarding impending rain straight after. However, I wanted to wait a bit before getting ready so that if it did rain, I could just go back and finish my sleep. I waited 20 mins, no rain. 30, no rain. Brilliant! I proceeded to make a strong cup of coffee, which guaranteed an instant brain kick-start and total awakening. Lo and behold! Just as I finished my cuppa, the heavens opened up.

I've never figured out how the saying, "It's raining cats and dogs" came to be. I mean, there have been freak cases where it's rained frogs and leeches, but never cats or dogs. Not that I intend to patent anything like, "It's raining frogs and leeches" (or maybe the French already have, who knows?). Anyways, I decided to have a little foray with the camera.
I headed out to my balcony and was immediately drawn to the line of water droplets building up on the parapet above me. It's like looking at a monstrous pearl necklace, only the pearls are constantly falling off to be replaced by new ones, (a woman's ultimate dream perhaps???).
However, try as I might, I could not capture the exact moment of when a droplet was falling off, or should I say the moment when it was in the air. All kinds of experimentation failed, from using flash to increasing the ISO and shutter speeds to crazy levels. But nothing worked. The moment of release for the droplet was just too unpredictable, and hence the fastest shutterspeed could not make up for a slow response time on my part. If anybody out there has a suggestion, please do leave a comment or email me at bibhashdash@gmail.com

But then, just as I had lost all hope of capturing a dramatic moment, the droplet fell, I followed its path, and it was time to dance. There was something so chaotic, and yet so simple and elegant, in the way they randomly burst upon the ledge. And I danced along with them. Switching my shooting to "burst mode", I was led by the elusive droplets, chasing them all along the ledge and everytime, they gave me different beats. Mother Nature's platinum album!

Thirty minutes and 150-odd images later, the rain at last ceased.






It left some lush green memories in its wake


and some unseemly ones as well....

But overall, I learned that no matter how much one may dislike rain, it is one of the most beautiful....


Oh crap, it's started again...

Rant 80: A mirror image

For the eye sees not itself...

Rant 79: Standby...

How does one come back? hmmm let me see...

1) Tried work for the best part of eight hours..20% help
2) Tried some college application research...20% help
3) Been sitting here for two hours staring at my laptop screen...1% help
4) Hoping this pointless post helps with the remaining 59%....
5) Realising after another two hours that this post didn't help at all.... -20% help...


I hate the numbers game...

Rant 78: The not-so-great divide

Nowhere could the phrase "Getting in touch with nature" be more literal than at Ross Island - part of the Andaman and Nicobar Islands and erstwhile British East India capital for this archipelago.


Clearly, man is meant to go back to his roots here...as the Britishers' presbyterian church probably found out ages ago.