some more thoughts as it rains outside!

Loneliness is a state of mind, I have come to learn. We all try and make sense of how to complete ourselves and when we do, I can tell you from experience: it's the only feeling worth living for. We are social animals, I learnt in primary school. Never quite understood how, but then it all makes sense. We all have animal instincts. Every need of ours has a parallel in the animal kingdom. The only one that's markedly different is the need for other people to invest in. Emotionally, spiritually, physically, and to truly realise the meaning of doing these without expectation or reciprocation.
As I wait for the best part of my life to join me here in Singapore, all I can do is get my head down and go to work. And I'd like to think I do a decent job of it. WorldSpace is a good place to work. Play is a great place to work. Play, that's the name of the sports channel I work for on the WorldSpace network (how's that for a plug!), is the sort of place where you get a chance to meet like minded people, with the same passion and the same zest to do the things you want to do. The stuff that excites you when you're a kid. Sure, I may not get to hob nob with Dravid and Agarkar (the few cricketers I feel really comfortable chatting to), but here I am, talking to our listeners out there, about cricket. Giving my opinions, my 'expert' analysis of a situation and getting them to respond, putting our 'experts' like Gaekwad, Hogg, Ranjit Fernando in the spot while I sit smugly in my shorts, sipping my coffee or Milo as the case may be! How cool is that? Who would have thought a overweight, cranky kid from Bandra would be able to wax eloquent on his favourite game for hours on end.
So, life comes full circle. As it has for my significant other and me. We started wanting to immigrate to another country about 10 months back, without really knowing how we were going to go about it. But the answer pretty much fell into our lap. Just like that. So, here I sit in Singapore, about to embark on a journey I can barely contain my excitement for. So, Play might have come as more than a job opportunity, it's perhaps been a life altering change that I hope we can do justice to. That I hope does justice to us. Actually, I know it will.

another warm day in singapore

Life is strange in so many ways. One of the most striking is how the frailty and the vulnerability of life is exposed by the fact that we're reminded that it can be threatened in a flash, but then almost immediately we're assured that all's well with the world. Still reading that one again, are you? So much can be said but so much is best left unsaid. There in lies the lesson of life, there in the wisdom of knowing when to shut up.
Anyway, the Ashes are beginning to take their toll on the English, but they've put up a fightback on Day 1 of the Perth Test. So, they might be 2-0 down in the series, but at least they're beginning to show some pluck, and finally it feels like we might have a contest on our hands. But it is Australia they're playing, who probably have a sadistic streak in them somewhere. Each time, in recent memory, every time a team seems ready to overthrow their suppression, they find something in reserve, and crush any chance of a fightback. Just like they did in the Adelaide Test.
Well, that Australia's unique there is no doubt, but what's also unique is that Glenn (my colleague, and former Radio Mid Day Mumbai jockey) just discovered that guava's in Singapore can be seedless. What have you discovered today.

hope and other things

So, yes, it's been a while. And things sometimes do get a little delayed. And then sometimes things have their own pace. Like the making of a new life, like the seeds of a beginning you have no clue to, like the morning you had no idea was about to dawn. Like Shakespeare said, 'All the world's a stage and all men and women merely players.' We do all play our part here, don't we? (is there a more trite question you've heard?)
Like me asking a girl to dance with me, after much deliberation and then with some inebriated confidence. Like me deciding that I can handle Pakistan on my own, like becoming a sort of recognized face in the world of sports broadcasting, like knowing that there's always just one person who is the one for you. Like, every little choice made and every little outcome that you have no way of predicting. But we must still all take our chances. All scripted, but unscripted. Perhaps, now I'm beginning to explain to myself why the url of my blog is the way it is.
There's so much to say about life, but we humans really don't have the words. We might think we do, but all we manage is verbose, circumlocative combinations of words that say absolutely the same thing. WE ARE REDUNDANT.
Singapore is my new home as of now. It's also the site that the Vyavaharkar's (one born, one converted!) are about to embark on a mission to keep each other happy. I'm excited that the SouthEast of Asia will be where the life of my adulthood and beyond will begin. Would I have it another way? I don't think so. I'm just trying to make sure that I'm making sense, and I'm sure with each additional word, I'm failing miserably at that task. But that's the pace of life. Frantic, maddening and yet at once serene, calm and hopeful.
I'm hopeful that life ahead is going to be a blast, I'm hopeful that I can keep blogging, I'm hopeful that I can lose weight, I'm hopeful that life will always be this good. Hope. A good thing like Andy Dufrense says in Shawshank Redemption, perhaps the best of things. And I intend to keep my faith in that belief, perhaps even invest in it, if I can.

Purposefully pointless ramblings

Life is full of interesting twists and turns. There's a cliche, if there's ever been one. But I think that cliches exist only because they're true. There's no other way to explain why a group of words or expressions so hated, manage to stick around for so long.
But then, so do stereotypes, or impressions or then theories of people long given sainthood. It's amazing how we don't seem to tire of spitting the same spiel out over and over again.
There's a lot to be said about the people who came up with them. Either they were absolute genuises who knew that all it would take to keep people going on and on, would be a few contrite statements (Is Pierre Fermat listening?) or they were bumblings fools, a la Peter Seller's character in 'Being There'. Either way, they deserve more credit than most of us, because we'll still be discussing something they said, long after this blog has made its way to cyber limbo.
Anyway, the point of me saying all this is that, there is a lot that each of us say or do that we fail to realise has a past much longer than our own. And the beauty or the tragedy (your point of view) is that we'll never know it.
I do realise that some of you will read this post as being rather directionless, but then the point is that I want to ramble, and the basis of this rambling was founded in East Asia by Japanese court ladies who wrote of what else but of their encounters with men in high places. So, we've travelled about 1,300 years only to go from pillowbooks to digital memoirs. The idea though hasn't changed. We have to remember that life isn't black or white, or for that matter grey. It has to be a combination of hues beyond our comprehension. And which is why we feel compelled to pen our thoughts and ideas down to make ourselves feel slightly better understood.
I am not sure if there's a purpose to my explanations besides making myself feel wiser. Or then perhaps, the only reason I'm writing is that I feel that it's the only way I can make any sense of why I started writing in the first place. The motivation become the motivating factor and the end result in itself. Not bad, I think, to end on a non-cliche.

In Pakistan: Winding Up the Wandering Trail

Wanderlust is wonderful, it truly is. But when does the physical exhaustion of the human body overtake everything? And primarily replace any joy, satisfaction or enthusiasm of doing a good day's work or a great trip around a place? I'd like to think I still have wanderlust in me... that it still thrives and continues to rouse my spirit everytime I think of the next trip ahead of me... but the honest truth is that I'd rather be on a plane back to Delhi...
Yet, in reflection, I've had a great time on this trip... the places I've been, the people I've met... I'll surely chronicle the whole experience sometime soon when I sit back, take stock and over a couple of drinks, narrate a story or two that really typifies what Pakistan has come to mean to me... and come to think of it, I already know the basic sense of how that account is going to turn out... the answer is 'Multani Mitti'...
Pakistan is like the famed dust of Multan... it's everywhere and on everything, as much as India lives in every brick of every corner across my land... Pakistan isn't a place, it's a culture (mind you not too different from ours) and it's a people, still unsure of their identity that has thrived so many years based on a indoctrinated hatred of their neighbours... The dust in Multan blows through everything all the time, making it impossible to go anywhere or anyplace without being covered in its deposits, and it grows on you, the more time you spend with the people, with the land... And I can't honestly say I've fallen in love with the place, (certainly WON'T say that about Faisalabad and Multan) but there's a certain attachment I guess you develop after spending a rather concentrated 40-odd days in one country. And it's been an intense experience because most of the things I've encountered have been forced down my throat, not just the food, but even the way the police reacts to situations (won't be complaining of Indian police brutality for a while) and the often overbearing hospitality of the people...
It's a good thing that the cricket has improved in the one-day series, and just as well, since there literally wasn't much to write home about in the test series... but eventually, with India on the verge of a series victory in the land of dust, atleast it's given a reason for most of us journalists to smile... and there's still the chance, that I might just have a tour to remember...

In Pakistan: A national song of unity

There's a pop anthem that's been playing across the stadiums celebrating Pakistan... and it's followed us pretty much everywhere we've been. The chorus goes 'Pakistan... Pakistan'. Obviously, there's no doubt what the singers intend to do. Charge the sentimental and patriotic feeling of stadia and mass gatherings. But today in Lahore, it was the cause of completely different sort of emotion.
There's about a thousand Indian fans here to watch these games... and I believe they stampeded at the Wagah border to be able to come here and pack themselves into a stadium with 30,000 odd other people... but that's what cricket does to you I guess. Anyway, while this anthem was blasting on the PA system, a large group of some Indian fans holding the tricolour decided to get up and started dancing to the tune. In a short while, there was another group that came and joined them. This one was a mix of Indian and Pakistanis. Applause then started to come from another part of the stadium and it was another group of Pakistanis appreciating the effort. It was a really surreal moment, as I watched this from besides the press box. It was a strong emotion of how much this mean to the people to be here, and actually experience the fact that even in a country where we Indians are made to believe is a culture that mistrusts and dislikes us, things are just the same. It seemed like a homecoming of sorts, simply because surely it was for a lot of these people.
But then, of course, the game started and the chants of 'Jeetega Bhai Jeetega, Pakistan/ India Jeetega', and I realised we might be the same and one in many respects. But when it comes to cricket on the field, it's still war... Well, all I say, is that as long as there's nothing nuclear about it.

In Pakistan: Reflections off the field

I'm in Peshawar for the start of the one-day matches and I'm really starting to question the intelligence of what I'm doing. I'm not sure if people feel this way on long tours of duty, but it's a feeling that's creeped in innocuously over the past few days, and then just hit me smack in the face. I'm in a foreign country, in a land of hustle and bustle, of political and ideological lines so sharp you have to take sides just to survive, and where each language is so rich in itself, it could exist independently of Pakistan. And yet, I'm here covering cricket. It's the gentleman's game, of course but it's also like covering a football in the middle of Somalia... ok, that's a stretched out comparison, but what I'm saying is that it's a little wierd that I'm reporting on something that's an obsession with some many millions of people, while what they need to be made aware of will never see the light of the day, at least for the time being. But I guess, it's my duty to report on the cricket and that is what I shall do. Don't get me wrong, I enjoy the sport, I love it as a matter of fact, but just having to work on it when you there's stories out there that have the potential to affect people and inform people far better is something that I cannot ignore. I guess, it's not my job to worry about what goes on outside the cricketing arena as much as one can't worry about how much water gets below the surface and to the roots of a oak tree...
I guess we each have our purposes... mine so far has been to cover the cricket as long as the Indian cricket team is present in Pakistan. So, from Peshawar, traversing across the country, through Islamabad, then Lahore, then Multan, and then Karachi makes for interesting thought. The real challenge here is how to use cricket and use that as a medium to get the viewers in India and pretty much anyone who watches my channel, to appreciate the beauty, the spirit, the madness, the defiance, the religiousness of this land.
Cricket is a sport that's played with a mixture of patience, physicality and skill unlike most sports... No other sport can be so physical and last over so many hours, and sometimes days. I guess most people ignore the fact that playing test cricket needs you to be involved with the game all the time, mentally, physically and if you ask the Indian coach, philosophically through all the five days and then there's always prep time and cooling off time... so, it's a full time job really. It's glamourous but it's demanding as hell. Sort of like what we do, except more high profile. It's the involvement that's the ambassador, the passion, the eagerness to perform. People see it and realise both sides want it just as bad, but the spirit never wavers. And I guess, that way in a sense, Indo-Pak cricket has done a lot of work for the development of relations. Not at any governmental level but by getting people to realise that it's all the same. This land or that... I don't think there's one journalist on this tour who believes, we're a divided nation, that we're not a people meant to be undivided. It's inevitable that on the cricket field, when you take one look and think, what could a combined team of these twenty two might have achieved that Australia hasn't today or the Windies did in the 60's. It's a wishful thinking that I know political and economic reality will never let come to pass, but still, I can dream now, can't I.

In Pakistan: The 'Hat' trick of Reporting

It's a refreshing day today in Karachi. It's been cold for the majority of the tour, very similar to how I left Delhi. For a change, I just did a morning live shot with hardly any layers on, one to be exact.
And also, after a while, there's a buzz surrounding this game. Lots of speculation about players, pitch conditions and all the spicy things that make reporting a game of pure kite flying but yet compelling and drama-like that you actually feel like you're doing something important. I'm not disillusioned or upset with my kind or my field, it's just that it's the truth. I mean think about it, people love reality tv these days. I mean, the Osbournes are a household name only because everyone wants to know what Ozzy puts on his pancakes. I'm not sure if people percieve their lives as too boring or if there's a genuine interest in what goes on behind famous closed doors.
It's almost an extension, what we do, this fascination with whether Sourav Ganguly is a targeted man or if there's really truth in another rumour about Sachin Tendulkar's elbow. The fact of the matter is, often enough, we journalists know as much about the rumour or tale as reader or viewer. Television sports journalists (will not want to smear the political, business and entertainment beat) such as yours truly are self-admitedly notorious for sometimes going on air with information that is half confirmed at best or at worst, factually inaccurate and unverified. But it sells, and public memory is only as long as camera flash, so nothing you say can really come back to bite you in the as*. I've screwed a few times on air, and I'll challenge most people who saw that broadcast to tell me those instances and call me out. Chances are, no one remembers (might have something to do with my un-memorable manner) but yet, the point being, for the most part, I won't be caught for a dropped catch.
Here in Pakistan, it's a little strange because I'm so isolated from what's going on in India. Like Rahul Dravid (no, not name dropping!) keeps saying, 'I'm in a cuccoon here... I don't hear anything and don't want to... that's the best part about touring, I can just focus on the cricket...' Unfortunately, I don't have the luxury of not wanting to hear anything, because it positively affects my bottom line...
So, we try to stay keyed in and get the dope we can... and yet, miss out occassionaly, and sometimes hit jackpot... but that's like anything we do, so why should reporting be any different...
Gosh, I was such a worry-free boy only a few years ago, not having to worry about keeping a track about myself, let alone about an entire religion (I'm talking about cricket of course)...
And Irfan Pathan's just achieved a hatrick in his first over, and there's already talk about the test match wrapping up early... but what can we do, speculate of course, and worry about whether anything I use to test the waters will ever hold it. But for now, it's a really nice day in Karachi...

In Pakistan: No one's a loser anymore

So cricket, the game I have rediscovered in the past few days, is gloriously uncertain, or so I've been told. And yes, I've seen frequent examples of shifting fortunes and the tables turning in a matter of minutes. Similar to that other amazing sport, football.
But when does sport become non-competitive... In theory, in definition, it can't. Intrinsically, someone has to lose and someone has to win... but what do you do when the way a game is played doesn't necessarily allow you to do that? It's not such a simple answer. You could for instance, attempt to claim a moral victory. Score a last minute equaliser, and a team could claim to have won a match, everyone thought they had lost. Even though the score might be 1-1, there's something to be said for snatching victory (or a draw in this case) from the jaws of defeat. And that, many might consider the thrill of sport.
As a spectator, and an as ardent cricket and football (read Manchester United and England) fan, there's a certain amount of pride in watching, my team (be it India, MU, or England) fight back after they've had their backs to the wall. It displays a certain amount of character, a resilient quality that we're likely to admire almost anywhere. So, that perhaps might be a reason to fall in love with a team that doesn't give up (although Team India has self-decapitated on innumerable occasions in the past, this current one might have some spunk).
So, what does that say about the teams that win all the time (read Chelsea, Brazil, Australia). Simply that they don't know how to lose. Put them in a situation where they're supposed to have their backs to the wall, and they probably won't even know that they do. Do they compete? Yes, but only in the sense of obliterating an opponent that has to be crushed and demoralised completely. So, that the next time they raise their heads, it'll only be to match a respectful gaze.
I don't know if any of this makes sense. I don't even know why I started writing this in the first place... but I guess, I'm just trying to say that sometimes you don't have to win to be a winner and a draw doesn't always make you an equal, it just might mean that you decide to become a winner but just a tad too late...

In Pakistan: Re-romancing the sport

Cricket is to me what algae are to the fungi in lichens. It's a part of me that I cannot deny, and that I couldn't live without. It's a romance that had faded but as I watch a series that has to be a let down in terms of excitement, I find my self falling in love all over again. It might be the way I'm living my life these days. Enjoying every moment, each a thrill all its own.
I've never really been into bare facts and figures and can't honestly quote freely who had the highest score in the 2nd test India played versus Australia in 2004.
I guess as a sports journalist I should, but the bare truth is that I don't. I've never been into the details of the sport from a sense that I cannot tell you how many balls MS Dhoni took to make his 148 at the Iqbal Stadium in the second test in Pakistan in 2006. And while I was in raptures watching every ball of the Jharkhandi's knock, I honestly would prefer to leave the stats and the number crunching to those who do it best. Sure, it's a job that must be done. And of course, someone's got to do it. But not me.
To draw a silly parallel, it's like life. Enjoying the Dhoni innings in every way, was for me an experience very much on the lines of soaking in the bigger picture. The details are important but only in a peripheral sort of way. It's the details that make up the bigger picture, and it's always the wider perspective that gives us a real satisfaction. I mean sure, a good sentence might stick out from a book, but if the book didn't give you the sort of stimulation you wanted from it, you're chances of remembering that line are rather slim. It's the same way with pretty much everything else in life, at least as far as I'm concerned. The bigger picture always trumps. So, on any given day and twice on Wednesday ('coz it's media night at TC's...), not for me the eternal joy of realising that a record is about to be broken... give me the thrill of watching the ball sail over the ropes anytime!

Breathing in smoke in Pakistan

It's taken me a while to actually get to this stage. I'd decided to get to this, a while back, but then there's usually been a slip between the cup and the lip... in this case, it was more like, I just forgot the cup was waiting to be sipped. Well, the coffee (or tea) didn't quite lose it's warmth, so I decided to go ahead and taste it anyway.To explain the title of this post, I'm actually in Pakistan, sitting in a press box, watching the second test between India and Pakistan in a city (actually a village masquerading as a city) called Faisalabad. It's about a couple of hours west of Lahore, and isn't really much to offer besides a few textile plants.
Perhaps, the most surreal part of all of this is that, the last time this happened (when India were here), I was in the US covering how the NRIs and NRPs are following every minute of the action, regardless of time of day. And right now, I'm sitting here watching Rahul Dravid caress Abdur Razzaq through the covers. It's quite something. I can honestly say that I am sometimes overawed with how close to the action I've had an opportunity to get. And what baffles me even more is that I'm here, which means that people back home are probably (being the operative word) listening to what I have to say about Inzy's back or about the pitch or about just anything I want to feed them. And I'd like to think I do a semi-decent job of it... but that I guess only time will tell...
Time will tell me a lot of things... the days in Pakistan have told me a few things for sure, that life isn't always about trying to shut out your past or it doesn't necessarily mean that what's happened before is all bad... it's just that whatever is happening in the now, in the present, is so precious, it's quite literally worth immersing yourself (in a very John the Baptist sort of way) for the moment itself. Life is now. Life is today. Life is this full stop that's about to follow. Not this one. This one.