From March 2003 to April 2nd, 2011

***Disclaimer- this is veryyyyy long***

March 2003- 11th grade exams had just gotten over. It was the first World Cup I was seeing in full consciousness (vague memories of the 96' India-Pakistan match were somewhere in the back of the mind) India was to play Pakistan in the group stages. I was very excited and made everyone dress in blue for the occasion, and dressed myself in an orange kurta, white salwar, green chunni and bangles to match. The Pakistani innings was a blur of runs. I remember a feeling of gloom settle in during the break before the Indians were to bat. I remember Sehwag practically killing the famed Pak bowlers, and then getting out. I remember Sachin hitting Shoaib Akhtar for boundary after boundary, and the image of Wasim Akram clapping his hands, inspite of himself, at the beauty of Tendulkar's batting. I remember how happy the Pakis were when Sachin got out. And I remember how happy India was when we finally beat them. What.a.match.
The quarters and the semis are a big blur now...but that World Cup final will forever haunt me. I remember all of us gathered at my aunt's place, the boys in sahara india t-shirts, and me in my tricolour outfit. That first over when Zaheer Khan handed over 18 runs to the Aussies- heart breaking. I don't think I saw that match in its entirety, but it was a very upsetting experience. And I hoped some day, some World Cup final would be different.

2007- I honestly don't remember watching a single match of that World Cup. Maybe it was the time difference, maybe because it happened at a time when I was too caught up in my own life/studies to bother about the men in blue. Looking back, I am glad. 2003 was tough enough, but the baggage of 2 world cups would have been difficult to carry.
But I remember the 2007 T20 victory, and how awesome it was. And how much fun it was to win a World Cup...the format notwithstanding.

2011- It had been 8 years since 2003. I wasn't 16 anymore, thus wasnt as "carry my heart on my sleeve" with respect to cricket. The fun of cricket had somehow faded, what with some match or series or tour happening ALL the time. I saw the group matches off and on, and got irritated by how difficult every win seemed to be. "Does this look like a team which could win the Cup?", the mother constantly asked. No, was the reply from every person. I saw South Africa beat India in the group stages, and wonder when our bowling would finally win us matches.
It was only when India was due to play Australia, that I started paying close attention. But I didn't watch the match in entirety. It was only the 2nd half of the Indian innings which I saw ball-by-ball. The brother refused to let me get up from my seat at the back of the room, and it was only when we needed 4 runs to win, that I came near the television screen, and shouted when we finally won. We had beaten the Aussies, and we were going to face our archrivals in the semis.
I missed the first innings of the semis too. I was tempted to sit at home, but partly out of superstition (since I missed the first innings of the India-Australia match) I went out. I wanted India to beat Pakistan, for tradition's sake, if not for the Cup. And beat it did. A fantastic match by every account, it justified every bit of the hype it had generated for the past week. Our bowlers did an awesome job (imagine no extra till the 37th over!) and good ole' misbah got out when trying to hit a six, a la T20 final 07. Sheer awesomeness. Pakistan was defeated. We had attained nirvana- we could lose the cup and still be a happy lot of people.

The run up to the finals was insane. The media hype was unprecedented. Records were quoted every second, and the importance of this match was stressed upon- how a host country had never won the Cup at home, how it was Tendulkar's home ground and how wonderful it would be to see him make that 100th ton. How we hadn't won a cup in 28 years. Madness. I wanted to run out of the house for the first innings, out of superstition. What if I saw the whole match and India lost? Did I want to take that chance? But at the end moment, I couldn't bring myself to miss the first innings. This was the finals- it deserved my full and complete attention! By coincidence, I was wearing a green tee and blue jeans...and was tempted to throw an orange chunni over it- but I stopped myself when memories of another world cup final when I had dressed to the occasion came rushing back. "Don't do so much drama...be nonchalant- that's how we'll win" the mother said. Fair enough, I thought.
The Sri Lankan innings started off pretty well. Wickets weren't falling as often as we would have liked, but the runs were less. Awesome awesome fielding and bowling (Sree's stupidity notwithstanding) It was only in the last five overs that heartbreak happened. And then it was over. India had to make 275 to win. 5.5 per over.
And then India came to bat. And Sehwag got out in the 2nd ball. Tragic. And then Tendulkar got out at 18. Wankhede, and all of India fell silent. The two star batsmen gone. Was the Cup gone as well? "Sri Lanka has the cup", said the father. My hopes fell and my heart sunk. It was excruciating to see each ball after that. And when Kohli got out, hopes which had started to rise a tad bit, fell deep into an abyss once more. When Dhoni walked in, the father said "Why is he here?" He hadnt made more than 34 runs in the entire series- would this match be different? Ball after ball was bowled, runs were made, close calls occurred. It was T.E.N.S.E.
The who's who of India was watching- the richest, the most powerful, the most glamourous. But it was an event which made every single human being watching an equal. It didn't matter whether you were sitting in the VIP box, or the normal stands, or watching it in your home, or listening to the radio. Ranbir Kapoor wore the same Sahara India t-shirt which your average Mumbaikar was wearing. Nita Ambani had her head in her hands, Aamir Khan refused to let the frown leave his face. Rajnikanth looked solemn. These were people who had everything, the world at their feet, the power over their own destiny and the money to buy whatever they wanted- but that day, they were at the mercy of the men-in-blue.
Slowly slowly the runs were getting made. But the cup seemed very distant. At one point the mother (who was relegated to the back of the room, since it was 'lucky') said "Everyone said Pakistan should be beaten. They said the final doesn't matter." But it did! It so did!
The brother remained expressionless through the match, the father kept trying to sleep but couldn't catch a single wink. I tried to ease the moment with my star gazing "Look Shashi Tharoor! Look Rahul Gandhi!" But I could just as well have been talking to the walls. It was only when we needed 87 to win from 88 balls, did the brother say his first words in god knows how long.
When Gambhir went out for 97 (heartbreaking), and Dhoni made his 50- a nation felt their pain and joy, but was still waiting to see the result. Will we celebrate at the end of the night or go to sleep in a state of sadness?
As the gap between the runs and balls decreased, increased, decreased and increased, over after over, emotions were on a roller coaster. We were afraid to hope, afraid to jinx the good luck. It was only when 6 were needed from 11 balls, that the sound of a cracker being burst in the vicinity was heard. And when Dhoni hit that six, the brother started shouting, and I crossed my fingers, hoping against hope that it wasn't a catch...it was only when the mother finally got up from her seat and hugged us, did I realize what had happened- WE HAD WON THE WORLD CUP!!! The fireworks started in abundance, the tv screen was a haze of visuals- yuvi and bhajji had tears in their eyes, sachin had the biggest smile on his face...and dhoni, oh dhoni, had a strange look of peace on his stoic face.
I can watch those visuals again and again, for the rest of my life- dhoni's eyes focused on the ball as he hit the six, not an inkling of a smile on his face and that huge grin when yuvraj hugged him, tendulkar being carried around the field- tricolour wrapped around his shoulders, kohli saying "he's carried the burden of the country for 21 years, it was time for us to carry him", zaheer khan saying "we did it for this special man standing here", the boys hugging each other over and over again, gary kirsten standing up the moment dhoni hit the six- hands up in the air, that pure unadulterated joy on each face in Wankhede...and on the faces of each individual in the world who rooted for the men in blue.
I have no words to explain what it feels like. As Tendulkar said "This cup doesn't belong to the 15 of us. It belongs to the whole nation" So so true. There is a certain pride on every face on the roads, a certain feeling of accomplishment. It was a collective victory for all of us, the rarest of rare occasion when practically every Indian was on the same side. Watching the highlights gives me goosebumps, seeing the photo of Tendulkar holding the cup- gateway of India in the background chokes my throat. I am not a die-hard cricket fan, but I am an Indian- and this one was for every Indian.

I am so glad the people born post 1983 have their own set of world cup memories now. I wrote this looooong post, because I never ever want to forget this World Cup. I want to hang on to every memory, because it all adds up to the happiness that I felt when Dhoni hit that six. I feel proud of the fact that years done the line, I will tell people about this match and say "Arrey, I saw the whole match when India won the Cup in 2011- it was brilliant!" This one, is my World Cup.

Repeat of "AND INDIA WINS!!!"

So I am thrilled that we won against the Aussies. There's something about a World Cup which just cannot be explained, understood or replicated. I LOVE it. And I genuinely wanted to write something about the win, about how I hope we beat Pakistan on Wednesday (pleaseeeeeeee God!), about cricket and Indians in general, maybe even my favourite cricket memories of all time. But I somehow lack the skill, at this point of time. So let me post an old piece, which I wrote circa 2007, when India beat Pakistan in the T20 World Cup finals. It's a match I can never ever forget, for the sheer enjoyment and warm fuzzy feelings that it generated. I hope I feel the same on Wednesday- I hope the heavens above are listening to this plea :)
(This piece might come across as the work of a hyperactive, high-on-drugs/alcohol type of person, but you HAVE to understand- I was very excited. Like VERY)

******
WHAT a match!!! rocking, brillant, spell binding, nerve wracking, nail biting- i just run out of adjectives...i dont remember the last time, i screamed and shouted and literally lived a match..the combination was absolutely lethal; hostel common room, around 30-40 mad crazy paranoid girls, india-pakistan cricket match, world cup final...there was no way this match could have been watched with sophistication. So gaalis flew casually and as each ball was bowled, there were screams and shouts. During the indian innings, each ball was followed by a "HIT IT!!! FOUR...SIX...maaaaarrrrrrooooooooooooooo", and during the pakistani innings, each ball was followed by a "PAKDOOOOOOOO....WICKEEETTTTT....DOT BALL!!"....(of course there were loads of other things, which absolutely cannot be mentioned here)

some of my favourite moments:

1) One of the girls came in halfway through the indian innings and india was really struggling at that point. So everyone forced her to go and change into her pink nightgown, which she had worn during the india-australia match and which proved 'lucky'. So after MUCH coercion, she did go and change...and the pink nightgown proved to be lucky once more! so needless to say, its going to be a permanent fixture during cricket matches now!

2) the run out; literally it came out of nowhere...and it was absolutely amazing!!! (Who was this? I have nooo idea now!)

3) shahid afridi's wicket; OH MY GOD! from the very beginning of the pakistani innings, everyone was damn scared and everyone kept on chanting "shahid afridi duck out...shahid afridi duck out" and the first ball was a wide. so joginder sharma was screamed and shouted and sweared at. and THEN came the magical 'going to be a six' shot which turned out to be a catch and THAT was a time, when half the girls jumped from their seats and just JUMPED around!!! (including yours truly)

4) bhajji's charitable sixes: SUICIDE!!! sheer suicide!!! god that man was screamed at and murdered a million times in those three balls and that was the time when everyone said "gone...gone gone gone" this followed by sreesanth's 2 sixes...depression took over the common room

5) mizbah's wicket: one of the girls hated mizbah from the time he came up to bat...every time he would bat she would say "out ho jaaa...ho jaaa naaaaa"...and everytime a pakistani wicket wud fall, she wud say "mizbah hai na? mizbah out ho gaya?" and would be utterly disappointed when told otherwise...and all of us were absolutely convinced that he wud NOT get out till the end...and when he hit that weirdest shot (it was absolutely so twisted), everyone's eyes were just fixed on the ball and everyone chanted "pakad le...pakad le" and THEN that glorious moment when sreesanth caught it- the common room positively erupted and hell broke lose! 40 girls running around, dancing, jumping around, hugging whoever they cud see...aaahhhhh! (I remember this- one of life's favourite moments)
it reminded me of the part in hp3 when gryffindor wins the quidditch cup and harry thinks "i wish there were dementors here right now, i could have conjured up the best patronus"

of course it was only after the match and the presentation ceremony that all the girls realized that dinner time was long gone and when we reached the mess it was closed...so we went to the guard to get the key and after much coercion, he gave it and the girls entered the mess in a line singing this random song which was apparently being played on the radio dhoni ke lambe lambe baal, dhoni ki sexy sexy chaal...dhoni dham dhama dham...ho dhoni dham dhama dham...you get the picture...

so my throat is completely gone, i was utterly exhausted from all the screaming, shouting and jumping around...but it was just sooooooooo totally worth it!!!

Right to live = Right to die?

Aruna Shaunbag was 24 years old. She was in an honourable profession- nursing. She was due to be married in a month. Life would have been normal, ordinary- just like it has been for many women before her, and will be for many women for centuries to come.
Except some sick man decided to ruin all that. He strangled her with a dog chain and sodomized her. And her life paused. Not ended- but paused.
The man who did this horrid act, was freed after 7 years. Because none of the doctors confirmed that there was sexual assault. 7 years was the price he paid for a crime he committed. 37 years of lying in a vegetative state is the price Shaunbag paid (and continues to pay), for no fault of hers.

The SC announced its verdict on a petition filed by author/activist Pinki Virani (who incidentally has written "Bitter Chocolate"- a book which tore my heart and soul apart when I read it as a 19 year old). They rejected her petition which sought to end Shanbaug's life so that she may not suffer the indignity of the life she's been leading.

Euthanasia is a sensitive topic world over. Out of the almost 200 countries in the world, a handful have legalized it, including only three states in the USA. Multiple debates, arguements, pros and cons have been discussed and analyzed over and over again. But nothing seems to have come out of it...and in all probability, nothing will. Because it is not about an aspect of life- like gay marriages. It is about life itself.
Personally, I don't have an opinion about mercy killing. It is way too complex and layered for me to form a judgement or a definite perspective about it. But one thing I am certain about- it should never ever be legalized in India. In a country where integrity is cheaper than luxury cars and designer clothes, euthanasia will for certain be misused. The best thing the Supreme Court can ever do for this country is never to make mercy killing 'ok'.
I also don't have an opinion about the SC's verdict. One part of me feels they could have taken some pity on the woman and just ordered the doctors to 'passively' kill her. Yet on another level, I think it was completely fair, and they did the best they could.

But there is something so incredibly sad about the whole case. I was pretty neutral about the whole situation and gave it no more than 10 minutes of my time each day while reading the newspaper, till the day I saw that she was 24 when the incident happened. And something about that fact, made me look at the case in a whole new light. It hit me, that no matter what the verdict is, or could have been or should have been, at the end of the day- that 24 year old is lost forever. Her dreams, her aspirations, her goals, her future, will forever remain unknown. An entire life has been wasted.

Maybe it's because I just turned 24, and most of my friends/acquaintances are around that age.
Maybe it's because I am a girl, and this case is a reminder of just how vulnerable a woman is, regardless of who she is, or where she is.
Maybe it's because I suddenly feel the need to value every second of my existence, and pray that nothing remotely close to this ever happens to anyone, ever again.

But I hope Aruna Shaunbag gets her justice. In some way or the other. It's the least life owes to her.

Of the two movies I have loved

For someone who is a self-confessed movie buff, I have been really terrible at seeing movies for the past so many months. The last movies i saw were inception (awesome!) and i hate luv storys (ummm...extremely blah, but i guess it was ok). Which is just sad if you think about it.

So breaking this self imposed strike-on-movies, i saw two movies within the last ten days. Both, I had wanted to see desperately since i had heard about them. Both, I had heard were FAB. and both i was extremely anxious about disliking, since i had such immense expectations.

You know what? I absolutely LOVED both of them- they have practically nothing in common except the fact that they are both movies! but one thing, which i really enjoyed about both, is that they were so relatable- in very different ways of course.

So first up: THE SOCIAL NETWORK- its about facebook- and being the fb junkie that i am, i think I am morally obliged to love it :) The whole process of how he came up with the concept, and the way the entire journey was chronicled- sheer awesomeness! To think, the movie is about the making of a website- and how interesting was it! The characterizations were so brilliant, and as my cousin said "you actually feel bad for the so called bad guys". So many scenes were just sooo cool- how zuckerberg comes up with the relationship status thing, how his friend's girlfriend fights with him over the status- "do you really expect me to believe that the cofounder of facebook doesnt know how to change his relationship status?" hahahahaha! one of my favourite scenes was the one where zuckerberg is 'interviewing' candidates- i don't know how faithful that was to reality, but such a cool scene! It was an absolutely riveting movie, and one which touches you, amazes you...and perhaps makes you love that thing called facebook so much more :)

Now comes the movie, the mere mention of which brings a huge grin on my face: BAND BAAJA BAARAT- i hereby pronounce it as my favouritest movie since Jab We Met (yes it's THAT good!) it is the very reason which people watch movies- it makes you laugh, touches your heart, makes you identify with the characters...and has you rooting for all that the movie is about. But above all, its very honest. It's a word i have perhaps never used for any movie till date, but thats what it is. I loved the way Delhi was captured in the city- I think it's the best portrayal of the city EVER. BBB doesn't show the Delhi of Khan market, Select city walk, CCDs, Baristas, five star hotels or page 3 parties or horse races (as Aisha did...ughhhh!) No, BBB doesn't show the "chic" part of Delhi (well, not much anyway!) It shows the Delhi of Janakpuri, of the red brick buildings of DU colleges, of U-specials, of weddings which have the same punjabi songs (irrespective of the community to which the people actually belong), of jhintak-ness, of bread pakoras and chai, of people who use words like "bhukkad", of boys who cant speak english to save their lives and ladaku girls, who are ready to take over the world. The sheer Delhi-ness of the movie is so endearing, so relatable, that its hard not to fall in love with every bit of BBB. Ranveer Singh was such a star...stole the show completely- its impossible to believe that this guy is not from saharanpur, or that he doesnt talk in broken english in real life. Anushka was incredibly natural, and looked so pretty, despite the glam quotient being so low. In fact, every single character is so well etched, so finely portrayed- it makes you feel that perhaps, you have met them somewhere. I saw the movie twice in a span of 3 days, and it was soooo much fun the second time around...i suspect its all im going to be seeing for a while ;)

So despite this fantabulous movie watching experiences, I am going to steer clear of movies for a while. After all, anything I might see for a while now, has to compete with the brilliance of Social Network and BBB- and that is a tough act to follow ;)

Swades

I had full plans to write one of those "mera bharat mahaan", steeped-in-patriotism type of post for the republic day. And i just might some day...but today is not it. And here is why.
On the occasion of our nation's 62nd republic day, the family decided to go to the nearby temple town of vrindavan. Religious sentiments to be evoked, you would think, NOT patriotic ones. Keep reading.

The outskirts or the entry of vrindavan could pass off as the outskirts of any big city in the country. the roads are wide, there are new apartment buildings, with a whole small town kind of ambience. Very earthy, in a sense. There is the ISKCON temple right at the entry, which as anyone who has ever visited an ISKCON temple would tell you, is a very well maintained, "oozing of money" place and overall a very pretty looking complex. The fragrance of roses is overpowering (in a nice way) and the temple is such that it invites you inside.
We went to the Rang ji temple first, in a fatfati type auto. The temple was old, and wouldn't get brownie points for maintenance of the temple structure, but the complex was nice and huge and nothing really alarmed the senses. All was well up till now.
Then came the reason why I was inspired to write this post- the Banke Bihari temple. The auto dropped us at the end of a seemingly endless maze of small galis and we were instructed to walk through those to get the main temple. And walk we did. I don't think I am going to forget those 10 minutes of walking down to the temple, in a looooong time. The reason, in one word- filthy.
Now, I am not really much of a "cleanliness" freak or 'snob' when it comes to travelling. As in, of course i like perfectly clean and hygienic conditions, and all that...but i think im pretty ok with adjusting to not so clean environments. And having travelled quite a bit in India, i would say i have seen a wide variety of conditions, so nothing can really affect me too much. Or so i thought.
The route to the banke bihari mandir was easily, by far, the filthiest condition i have EVER seen. For the past one week since I got back, I have been trying to explain to people the exact vision, and no words have been able to justify that experience. There were pigs, there were people doing their "business", there were food stalls and the garbage was all over the place- all in a short distance of 200-300 metres. After that hell-ish walk, we reached the temple, practically got killed in a stampede (the topic of another post perhaps), and walked back through the same route to our auto. It was a relief to see normal roads, and 'civilization' again. But i couldn't get over those streets. And melodramatic as it may sound, it haunts me. Not the dirt, or the fact that a place of religion and faith was located amongst such filth- although that did bother me tremendously.

The thing which haunts me is that vrindavan, in its entirety, represented precisely what was wrong with this country we call motherland. We pay so much attention to the outer appearances of our cities and towns, but give a damn to what they really are on the inside. We build high rises, and fancy residential areas, and swanky malls filled with all the brands known to mankind. But that's not us! That is just us, trying hard to be like the rich nations, trying to ignore our real issues, our real problems. The Delhi government built state-of-the-art beautiful stadiums during the CWG, but hid the slums and the makeshift houses of construction workers by planting HUGE billboards in front of them. And then promptly removed them once the 'guests' were gone. And this is right in the capital of the largest democracy of the world, a so-called developing nation. To use an extremely superficial analogy, its like a fat person trying to hide their weight by dressing in the right colours and fits. It would work to give a thin appearance for a while, but eventually, the weight will show.

People in the cities would look at all the world rankings of poverty, human development, and wonder why we rank so low. Why, despite "sooooo much of economic growth and blah blah" do we fall lower in all these indices, year after year? It is because our policy makers, lack a collective integrity. Rather, as a society we lack a sense of integrity, a sense of duty. Things like corruption, "adjust kar le yaar", "manage ho jaayega", "koi farak nahin padta"...they are part of our DNA.
And unless we change our DNA, unless we do something drastic, the cities will keep getting richer, and more posh. But the streets of small town India would remain the same.

The last one of the year

I have been meaning to do a year end post for a while, and was putting it off till the last day (i.e. today the 31st) just in case...you know, if something happened at the last minute which would completely change the way I see the whole of this past year. Nothing of that sort happened...thank god :) It's extremely uncool that i was supremely busy the entire day and thus cant do total justice to this post. But i shall try my best.

2010- WOW! it has been, i think, one of the BESTEST years of my life in totality. Not only did supremely cool and awesome things happen- coming 2nd in JNU twice, the NET-JRF, driving (I drive absolutely kickass now btw...the post on driving came a bit too soon!), the awesome love story (which I admit I am partial to because I knew all the possible details!)- but it was also a year, where nothing horrible happened. I think the combination of the two just makes this the best year ever.

It was a year of many many family reunions, of strengthening old friendships and forming some new ones. It was a year of many successes and of feeling pride in my own existence. It was a year of travel, of discovering and rediscovering some places. It was a year of much joy and of a million memories. It has been a year which I will always look back at fondly, and feel proud of.

For the first time ever, I don't want a year to end. It feels like everything of the past year will be wiped clean, and I am extremely nervous about what kind of a year 2011 will be. It promises to be an eventful year- people very close to me are getting married, career-related decisions which could prove to be instrumental in shaping who 'I' become eventually, and I am sure many more things will crop up. I hope 2011 carries with it, some of the happiness, and some of the goodness from this year...and I sincerely hope and pray that it betters 2010 in every which way.

As the twin once said "May astrology, numerology and psychology work in our favour this year!" Happy new year everyone!

Kismat Connection

They call it "Lady Luck".

I couldn't agree more. Luck has to be a woman. It is erratic, weird, moody, temperamental, spontaneous, surprising and unexpected in a way, which the male species can never ever comprehend, let alone be.

My faith in luck and its twin, destiny, has always been pretty solid. Even at a young age, bogged down by life in general, I knew instinctively, that there has to be a greater plan for my life; a plan which went beyond the minute and seemingly irrelevant details of daily life. As time went on, and I grew up (dont i sound old?) lady luck's ways began to amaze me. There have been people, whose presence I couldn't comprehend at that time, or perhaps never even paid attention to, who have shaped my life in ways which I never thought was possible. Split second decisions which have at times turned out to be the best, and at times the worst, decisions of my life- ultimately shaping the person I am today.
Not to discount the power of human agency- one can overcome many an adversity by sheer willpower, and motivation. But thats just it- what decides where that willpower should be put to use? what decides when hard work will yield the results it is supposed to?
Our choices determine to a large extent who we are, what we become, and how we deal with the world- but what determines which choices works for us, and which doesnt? All this is way too complex to just leave to the word "co-incidence".

Why this sudden discourse on the relevance of luck and destiny? Well, I have recently been an e-witness to one of the best love stories which one can possibly hear, one which has got everything which a rom-com/chick flick aims to have- there's a childhood element, facebook and gtalk (my absolute favourites!), and love which is going to culminate in marriage soon. But most importantly, this love story, is rooted so deeply in destiny, that one cant help but say "its like...it was meant to be!" Love stories are awesome to hear, especially real life ones, but ones like this make you believe, reaffirm your faith in humanity and the powers to be, and everything nice and happy.

Any more justifications on why luck has to be a woman?

***I would like to dedicate this post to all those lovely people who have been pestering me to blog. Please comment so that i know you have read it! And also a special mention to the hero and the heroine of the love story- i have no idea whether you guys will read it (i will try to bully you into it though!)- you guys have made a cynic believe, and i love you for that!***