I have known long enough that life is arbitrary. A moment before I entered the newsroom yesterday at 5 in the morning, little did I realize what was the piece of news that would greet me in the giant 72 inches plasma screen installed a few days back. A train disaster had taken place near Jhargram, possibly triggered by the maoists rampant in the area. A most unfortunate event, where more than 70 were dead. But as I stared blankly at the screen, my mind pondered upon the most literal question- how many more such?- and also something more profound- about the reason behind it all. why would a person sitting or sleeping comfortably on his berth, maybe expecting a business meeting or a family reunion when he reaches Mumbai, be all of a sudden, greeted by an accident, which will take away his life, which will shatter his dreams, which will leave a void in his family, which will bring in a crisis wherein everybody will shake their heads and sympathize and say that whatever happened was too bad...The chill went down my spine. I mean you, the reader, have dreams. I have dreams. We all have dreams. It can be a short term one-like doing a task in a few days time or a long term one-like buying a house or settling my debts or just simply, be happy. So why are these dreams snatched away, all of a sudden? I have always loved to think that i would want to die in my sleep. And that there should be a premonition. It used to hammer me when I heard tales of physical sufferers who died gradually. But now, i guess, they are the lucky ones. Death is not a shock to them. Its a process. But what about the unaware fellow, on whom a rolling stone falls and cracks open his skull, or he meets with an accident, or he slips and fall down a cliff...all of these sudden instances... arbitrary. Why so? And I find no answer. Is life a dream? Are we all in a dream? Are we to 'wake up' and find that the 'real' life exists in death?
I would have accepted the theory but for the engagements, propositions, ideas, plans and love in this world, which are tucked away in a corner of the room filled with grief, misery and helplessness.
Maybe the answer is waiting for us. We shall know it all. In sweet time.
Saturday, May 29, 2010
Thursday, May 20, 2010
Of private tuitions
I always dreaded mathematics. I still do. So much, that I still have nightmares that I am sitting clueless over a paper of calculus, staring into the blank ceiling, while others scribble away to glory. Yes, numbers and I never went hand in hand. When I think of the possible reason, i conclude that it was more to do with a fear rather than inability. Guidance also matters and on that regards, my base was quite weak.
So, as far as i remember, Maths was the cause that I got my first private tutor. Rakhi miss. I was in standard 6. PCB was introduced and it all seemed greek to me (Sometimes, I feel quite near to Darsheel Safary in TZP :) So that was my first stint. Intially reluctant to be under someone's supervision, I found my teacher very cooperative and friendly. And she exuded solace. The thing I like about females. Soon I began to get interested and performed decently in exams. All thanks to this tutor of mine. But the relation ceased after a year or so as she got married and I lost a tutor whom I fancied close as a sister-in-the-making.
Mithu didi is still incomparable. The love, care, affection and the occasional scoldings that she used to display moulded me into a more matured pupil of economics. I began to love the subject and solved numericals in a snap of a finger. I used to love her handwriting. Wonderful-a reflection of her personality. She used to be very close to our family. Mithu didi gorged on the dishes prepared by Mum when she used to come and teach me. When i used to go to her place, her family offered me love. I enjoyed it a lot. Well, my reluctance was perennial but even then, now when I look back I seem to miss those days. I also seem to think that I should have changed or modified myself in such a manner which would have got me interested in subjects which i disliked. My problem was that I spent hours after hours (not literally...for me 10 minutes equalled to an hour sometimes) reading the subject of my choice, which was mainly restricted to english and hindi literature and business studies and economics, and never used to turn an eye towards the subjects I disliked (like maths, PCB, geography)Now when I look back and that I am in such a stage where bookish education is no longer a part of my life, i fancy myself to believe that I have developed a zest in me that would help me cope with maths much better, understand PCB and develop a liking for geography (geo seems so interesting to me now. Godammit! what kind of a person I was!) Coming back to Mithu didi she too got married after 4 to 5 years and is now in the States and has been blessed with a baby boy. God bless her! The years i spent under her guidance tempered me into a better learned individual. I miss her.
Then comes Suvankar da. There are few people in my life whom I have lost due to no fault of circumstances. Santanu (my old school buddy) and Suvankar da are the ones i can remember now. Exceptionally sensitive and very affectionate. Yes he was effeminate and I used to find him very wierd and also used to laugh behind his back and crack jokes at his 'infirmity'. But seldom did i realize consciously that I had found a great friend in him. Such was his heart, such his genuineness and such was his loneliness that I soon became fond of him but was never able to realize it consciously. Now that he has gone and I dont even know where he is, I feel a pang of meeting him and bringing him back to my very limited friend circle that i am left with now. People have come people have spread joy in my life and then they have left, leaving me spent and hollow. Suvankar da is one such person. i remember that he took me to a movie, a book fair and also treated me to hilsa in his house. He used to share his joys sorrow and loneliness to me. I could feel the pain in each of his words. He used to work a lot and said that he loves teaching. My grades improved and soon he left after a clash of tuition timings.
Anindita ma'am was my tutor She used to teach me hindi for 2 years. A passionate lover of hindi literature, she was very motherly towards me. She used to scold me, care about me be indifferent and bitch about others in front of me. And I liked it all. I was the best student in her class. and everytime i got an 80 in my exams she used to be very happy. Her two sons were very nice to me. chotu was my friend and subho da was an inspiration. That episode too came to an ed after my class 12 exams. I took up english and hindi went off my radar. Now I am not in touch with her.
Two other tutors very significant in my life were nishat jethu and bimal uncle. Great people. Bimal uncle has been a family friend. He used to teach me maths and ocassionally ohysics and chemistry. needless to say, I hated the subjects like anything. So naturally I avoided his classes. But he was so very learned and good in maths (he spent his entire life working for LIC) that my grades improved. I attempted 70 marks of maths in class 10 and got 60-my greatest achievement in maths till date. Afternoon classes were very tedious and i hated the classes even the more for that. Sleep-deprived and reluctant and disinterested, i loathed going to his classes but he was a great friend of ours and still is.
Nishat jethu was a cranky but funny old man. A freedom fighter in his youth, he had lovely tales to narrate to us. i still suspect him to be an undercover maoist or something. i hated going to his classes in the evenings. my friends used to play in the field and I used to give it a last sight and hop onto my bicycle.
Of course, no body was so special like Partho Mukherjee. What do i say about him. First time in my life, I died to attend his classes just to listen to him in rapt attention. Every word was a sermon for me-many of which i still consider as a guiding light in my life. The lesser said about him, the purer the essence would be.
Barring the gayatris, poornas and the sandips, I had been quite lucky to experience the rest of my private tutors. Experiences which still makes me miss them.
So, as far as i remember, Maths was the cause that I got my first private tutor. Rakhi miss. I was in standard 6. PCB was introduced and it all seemed greek to me (Sometimes, I feel quite near to Darsheel Safary in TZP :) So that was my first stint. Intially reluctant to be under someone's supervision, I found my teacher very cooperative and friendly. And she exuded solace. The thing I like about females. Soon I began to get interested and performed decently in exams. All thanks to this tutor of mine. But the relation ceased after a year or so as she got married and I lost a tutor whom I fancied close as a sister-in-the-making.
Mithu didi is still incomparable. The love, care, affection and the occasional scoldings that she used to display moulded me into a more matured pupil of economics. I began to love the subject and solved numericals in a snap of a finger. I used to love her handwriting. Wonderful-a reflection of her personality. She used to be very close to our family. Mithu didi gorged on the dishes prepared by Mum when she used to come and teach me. When i used to go to her place, her family offered me love. I enjoyed it a lot. Well, my reluctance was perennial but even then, now when I look back I seem to miss those days. I also seem to think that I should have changed or modified myself in such a manner which would have got me interested in subjects which i disliked. My problem was that I spent hours after hours (not literally...for me 10 minutes equalled to an hour sometimes) reading the subject of my choice, which was mainly restricted to english and hindi literature and business studies and economics, and never used to turn an eye towards the subjects I disliked (like maths, PCB, geography)Now when I look back and that I am in such a stage where bookish education is no longer a part of my life, i fancy myself to believe that I have developed a zest in me that would help me cope with maths much better, understand PCB and develop a liking for geography (geo seems so interesting to me now. Godammit! what kind of a person I was!) Coming back to Mithu didi she too got married after 4 to 5 years and is now in the States and has been blessed with a baby boy. God bless her! The years i spent under her guidance tempered me into a better learned individual. I miss her.
Then comes Suvankar da. There are few people in my life whom I have lost due to no fault of circumstances. Santanu (my old school buddy) and Suvankar da are the ones i can remember now. Exceptionally sensitive and very affectionate. Yes he was effeminate and I used to find him very wierd and also used to laugh behind his back and crack jokes at his 'infirmity'. But seldom did i realize consciously that I had found a great friend in him. Such was his heart, such his genuineness and such was his loneliness that I soon became fond of him but was never able to realize it consciously. Now that he has gone and I dont even know where he is, I feel a pang of meeting him and bringing him back to my very limited friend circle that i am left with now. People have come people have spread joy in my life and then they have left, leaving me spent and hollow. Suvankar da is one such person. i remember that he took me to a movie, a book fair and also treated me to hilsa in his house. He used to share his joys sorrow and loneliness to me. I could feel the pain in each of his words. He used to work a lot and said that he loves teaching. My grades improved and soon he left after a clash of tuition timings.
Anindita ma'am was my tutor She used to teach me hindi for 2 years. A passionate lover of hindi literature, she was very motherly towards me. She used to scold me, care about me be indifferent and bitch about others in front of me. And I liked it all. I was the best student in her class. and everytime i got an 80 in my exams she used to be very happy. Her two sons were very nice to me. chotu was my friend and subho da was an inspiration. That episode too came to an ed after my class 12 exams. I took up english and hindi went off my radar. Now I am not in touch with her.
Two other tutors very significant in my life were nishat jethu and bimal uncle. Great people. Bimal uncle has been a family friend. He used to teach me maths and ocassionally ohysics and chemistry. needless to say, I hated the subjects like anything. So naturally I avoided his classes. But he was so very learned and good in maths (he spent his entire life working for LIC) that my grades improved. I attempted 70 marks of maths in class 10 and got 60-my greatest achievement in maths till date. Afternoon classes were very tedious and i hated the classes even the more for that. Sleep-deprived and reluctant and disinterested, i loathed going to his classes but he was a great friend of ours and still is.
Nishat jethu was a cranky but funny old man. A freedom fighter in his youth, he had lovely tales to narrate to us. i still suspect him to be an undercover maoist or something. i hated going to his classes in the evenings. my friends used to play in the field and I used to give it a last sight and hop onto my bicycle.
Of course, no body was so special like Partho Mukherjee. What do i say about him. First time in my life, I died to attend his classes just to listen to him in rapt attention. Every word was a sermon for me-many of which i still consider as a guiding light in my life. The lesser said about him, the purer the essence would be.
Barring the gayatris, poornas and the sandips, I had been quite lucky to experience the rest of my private tutors. Experiences which still makes me miss them.
Tuesday, May 4, 2010
The brand new Paathshaala
You reach a time in your life when you begin to go beyond noticing personal and inter-personal changes and begin noticing social changes.
Last night while attending a dinner party one of the discussions veered towards the education of the host's kids. Sure the Indian education system has changed a lot specially in the metros. And well let me be clear that I am talking about those schools which have adopted the European and the American curriculum of teaching its students. And that I am mentioning about the 'Upmarket' ones for valid reasons. Let me point out three broad developments which has appealed to me the most.
Firstly, the way of imparting education has altered. It's not about bookish knowledge anymore.It's not about sticking to your textbooks and answering questions at the end of every chapter nowadays. It has gone beyond that. The psychological angle has crept in. It's more analytical now. With deeper thought behind the formation of each question and the ideation of the ability to make the student 'think' and answer, not just simply answering mechanically. Monthly exams have been replaced by weekly tests and daily quizzes. Grades have come in. The concept of awarding a topper with 'star' has been devised too. The sense of competition has increased with classes having lesser and lesser number of 'poor' students. Everyone notches up a minimum of 60 percent nowadays. CBSE is thinking of doing away with the tradition of failing a student till a particular standard. Boardroom education has replaced classroom teaching. Blackboards have given way to digital boards where you can log on to a website and teach the class. Gone are the days of the dusters. One swish of hand and the data is wiped out (with a possible memory to back it up) from the screen. Its 'cool' for the new breed of kids. and its western. we all are suckers for it. Just that its western and its better. Also, another newer technique has emerged whereby students are given IDs with which if they log on to their school's website they will have a detailed account of hat has been happening in the class that particular day and what were the minutes of it, how has been the child's performance etc.
Secondly, a huge differrence has come about through the employmeny of co-curricular activities in schools. Its not just books and books and exams anymore. Young people are getting exposed to public speaking and a host of other innovative indoor and outdoor exercises. My nephew has soemthing called 'cobblers day' coming up in his school which is reportedly about how to maintain the cleanliness of your shoes, which sounds exciting to him. A big reason for this kind of a holistic education in schools is because of the fact that with work pressure and the rat race in various industries in the work field, parents are getting little time to intract and 'train' their children. So the school takes care of them all. Of course in lieu of a hefty fee (which nowadays most of the parents can afford to, or comply to or well..compromise to. They clearly dont have a choice) So as I was saying, newer self defence techniques are coming in. The very popular Karate is getting replaced by kick boxing and taekwondo. Pottery, claying, arts and crafts, creative writing, gardening, fine dining, toilet training, hygiene and other extra curricular things have been incorporated in the syllabi.This is in addition to the outdoor events like annual sports or cricket, football, basketball being played.
Thirdly, the pressure has shifted from the students to the teachers. I hear that their compensation has been multiplied in private schools but the kind of work they do in training the kids has been exemplary and much more from what our teachers used to do. Not that they like it too much but the new system of eduaction has sure revealed who is to take all the worries. The teachers have to take charge of being with the kids, making assessments, reports, meeting with parents, bringing in innovation in class and so on. Even another path breaking achievement has been the removal, and I would say banishment, of corporal punishment from schools as such.
There are of course a host of other changes and addition like better transport facilities, air conditioned campuses, better uniforms, foreign exchange programmes, community service drives, added recognitions, improved tolerance to students etc which are present in the list of developments.
The sad and unfortunate part is that Government schools don't have the resources to carry out such functions and that education in rural areas have a long way to go. But the good part is that even the not so rich and famous private ones are trying to emulate their richer counterparts. I am sure the nest generation will be amazed to listen to our education tales.
Here's to a better India.
Last night while attending a dinner party one of the discussions veered towards the education of the host's kids. Sure the Indian education system has changed a lot specially in the metros. And well let me be clear that I am talking about those schools which have adopted the European and the American curriculum of teaching its students. And that I am mentioning about the 'Upmarket' ones for valid reasons. Let me point out three broad developments which has appealed to me the most.
Firstly, the way of imparting education has altered. It's not about bookish knowledge anymore.It's not about sticking to your textbooks and answering questions at the end of every chapter nowadays. It has gone beyond that. The psychological angle has crept in. It's more analytical now. With deeper thought behind the formation of each question and the ideation of the ability to make the student 'think' and answer, not just simply answering mechanically. Monthly exams have been replaced by weekly tests and daily quizzes. Grades have come in. The concept of awarding a topper with 'star' has been devised too. The sense of competition has increased with classes having lesser and lesser number of 'poor' students. Everyone notches up a minimum of 60 percent nowadays. CBSE is thinking of doing away with the tradition of failing a student till a particular standard. Boardroom education has replaced classroom teaching. Blackboards have given way to digital boards where you can log on to a website and teach the class. Gone are the days of the dusters. One swish of hand and the data is wiped out (with a possible memory to back it up) from the screen. Its 'cool' for the new breed of kids. and its western. we all are suckers for it. Just that its western and its better. Also, another newer technique has emerged whereby students are given IDs with which if they log on to their school's website they will have a detailed account of hat has been happening in the class that particular day and what were the minutes of it, how has been the child's performance etc.
Secondly, a huge differrence has come about through the employmeny of co-curricular activities in schools. Its not just books and books and exams anymore. Young people are getting exposed to public speaking and a host of other innovative indoor and outdoor exercises. My nephew has soemthing called 'cobblers day' coming up in his school which is reportedly about how to maintain the cleanliness of your shoes, which sounds exciting to him. A big reason for this kind of a holistic education in schools is because of the fact that with work pressure and the rat race in various industries in the work field, parents are getting little time to intract and 'train' their children. So the school takes care of them all. Of course in lieu of a hefty fee (which nowadays most of the parents can afford to, or comply to or well..compromise to. They clearly dont have a choice) So as I was saying, newer self defence techniques are coming in. The very popular Karate is getting replaced by kick boxing and taekwondo. Pottery, claying, arts and crafts, creative writing, gardening, fine dining, toilet training, hygiene and other extra curricular things have been incorporated in the syllabi.This is in addition to the outdoor events like annual sports or cricket, football, basketball being played.
Thirdly, the pressure has shifted from the students to the teachers. I hear that their compensation has been multiplied in private schools but the kind of work they do in training the kids has been exemplary and much more from what our teachers used to do. Not that they like it too much but the new system of eduaction has sure revealed who is to take all the worries. The teachers have to take charge of being with the kids, making assessments, reports, meeting with parents, bringing in innovation in class and so on. Even another path breaking achievement has been the removal, and I would say banishment, of corporal punishment from schools as such.
There are of course a host of other changes and addition like better transport facilities, air conditioned campuses, better uniforms, foreign exchange programmes, community service drives, added recognitions, improved tolerance to students etc which are present in the list of developments.
The sad and unfortunate part is that Government schools don't have the resources to carry out such functions and that education in rural areas have a long way to go. But the good part is that even the not so rich and famous private ones are trying to emulate their richer counterparts. I am sure the nest generation will be amazed to listen to our education tales.
Here's to a better India.
Friday, April 30, 2010
Friday, April 23, 2010
Modinama
Modi modi kahan modi kahan (main) modi modi ittefaaq se...says a seductive song from a recent hit movie. Oh heck! not quite. Maybe it was mudi and not modi. But what the hell! Nowadays that's the only bit of repetition you can encounter when you switch on your TV screens and when you leaf through the cripsp newspaper of the day. And Goddamn it, it sure isnt any ittefaq that our bronzed villain with his price posessions make it to the front page everyday and hog the centrestage at every practically every discussion in the 9 o clock slots in TV channels, for more than a month (it certainly seems so...we TV chaps have a habit of exaggerating, you know!)...so move over Sexbabas, sania, shoaib, amina, fatima, fatso-ma(whatshername)..we have the new man whose shady dealings can guarantee you entertainment more than when you watch a ball soar past the boundary for a six or when the rattling of stumps seems music to your ears in the ongoing IPL. Mr Modi is the essential powerman who has been allegedly corrupted by power, money and a little more power. You ca almost picturise him as a cheroot-smoking villain sitting cozy in his chair (shun the suit ala sanjay dutt in that 'not-quite-wow-but-jao' commercial) with arm candies like priyanka chopra, shilpa shetty, preity zinta or celina jaitley or some firang babe by his side, practising modisatva. He is the quintessential wily fox who can turn tables with his clever calculations and manipulations. The I-T raids have opened a pandora's box to be sure but the main treasure chest is still hidden away somewhere in some swiss suite perhaps guarded by brawny bodyguards and ofcourse, brainpower and money.
SO who spoiled it all? Enters our suave smart 'I taak in englees, I waak in englees' mr tharoor, who hates travelling in cattle class and misquotes saudi arabia (in lieu of women or dates?). But still the henchman creates a goof up costs modi dear. Power crazy, he is too. and tries to influence modi in disclosing details about a new team in the next IPL, with a will to 'mentor' the team. But whenever there is a women involved, case twisted hai boss(I can hear miss pushkar crying aloud that she has to face the ordeal only because she is a woman...well I sympathize with you but nevertheless, clean dealings are scanty miss pushkar...proofs are apparently nowhere, sweat equity or whatever) SO Mr Tahroor and miss pushkar(God bless them...private souls) enter into a jugalbandi and despite Mr modi's efforts to let aapno amdavad buy a team in IPL, Kerala with its chartbusting literacy rate, dupes modi's intentions and Kochi is born. And Modi is fuming. But reports suggest that there can be another little character in our story. The man who has head in clouds, Mr Praful patel. Patel saab is alleged to have played the role of a messenger between tharoor and the IPL. and another list of shango-pangos like patel's sweet lass daughter, or his not-so-sweet-lass-secretary etc etc who might have transpired in the dealings. Then again another newspaper claims that the funds disclosed by patel might have been spiked and intentionally so, at the behest of modi, to make tharoor lose his track. Ho hum! Now isnt that a bit too much now? I-T steps in meanwhile, with stepbrother ED and conduct raids and raise allegations that can be 1 out of the existing million. come on guys, so many twists in the tale is bittering the suspense and thrill. The viewers are getting confused. And soon you think that such things are commonplace, trite. It happens in every business or the other. So what if it is IPL? So what if guru Ezekiel or Mansoor Ali Khan Pataudi or Boria Majumdar does not get tired discussing about cheap thrillers every evening?
So before a Khan may be held responsible for fudging accounts or a Zinta be accused of fixing matches or Modi be sacked or Tharoor be deported to America or Patel be let scot free or Manohar takes charge of the IPL mess and makes more money than modi, you will inevitable switch off your TV and pick up and read an Agatha Christie and mutter 'Kitna filmi hai saala'. Here dies another saga after Shoaib-Sania, a natural death...
SO who spoiled it all? Enters our suave smart 'I taak in englees, I waak in englees' mr tharoor, who hates travelling in cattle class and misquotes saudi arabia (in lieu of women or dates?). But still the henchman creates a goof up costs modi dear. Power crazy, he is too. and tries to influence modi in disclosing details about a new team in the next IPL, with a will to 'mentor' the team. But whenever there is a women involved, case twisted hai boss(I can hear miss pushkar crying aloud that she has to face the ordeal only because she is a woman...well I sympathize with you but nevertheless, clean dealings are scanty miss pushkar...proofs are apparently nowhere, sweat equity or whatever) SO Mr Tahroor and miss pushkar(God bless them...private souls) enter into a jugalbandi and despite Mr modi's efforts to let aapno amdavad buy a team in IPL, Kerala with its chartbusting literacy rate, dupes modi's intentions and Kochi is born. And Modi is fuming. But reports suggest that there can be another little character in our story. The man who has head in clouds, Mr Praful patel. Patel saab is alleged to have played the role of a messenger between tharoor and the IPL. and another list of shango-pangos like patel's sweet lass daughter, or his not-so-sweet-lass-secretary etc etc who might have transpired in the dealings. Then again another newspaper claims that the funds disclosed by patel might have been spiked and intentionally so, at the behest of modi, to make tharoor lose his track. Ho hum! Now isnt that a bit too much now? I-T steps in meanwhile, with stepbrother ED and conduct raids and raise allegations that can be 1 out of the existing million. come on guys, so many twists in the tale is bittering the suspense and thrill. The viewers are getting confused. And soon you think that such things are commonplace, trite. It happens in every business or the other. So what if it is IPL? So what if guru Ezekiel or Mansoor Ali Khan Pataudi or Boria Majumdar does not get tired discussing about cheap thrillers every evening?
So before a Khan may be held responsible for fudging accounts or a Zinta be accused of fixing matches or Modi be sacked or Tharoor be deported to America or Patel be let scot free or Manohar takes charge of the IPL mess and makes more money than modi, you will inevitable switch off your TV and pick up and read an Agatha Christie and mutter 'Kitna filmi hai saala'. Here dies another saga after Shoaib-Sania, a natural death...
Monday, March 29, 2010
How's that?
Whenever i look at the Sports team in my newsroom, I feel a distant longing and an incisive disappointment. Not because of the content that they contribute. But for a different reason. I look at the members and think I could have also been one of them. And I wander to the exciting alleys of my childhood days.
Yes, exciting. I used to be a cricket crazy individual, innocent and adventurous, unassuming and emotional. I loved cricket. But, only cricket. The over hype of the game in our country had roped me as a victim too. So the other sports were completely ignored by the seeds of passions fresh in my mind during those days. And that is a prime reason- my lack of knowledge regarding other sports like football, hockey, the olympics, tennis, badminton etc.- why i am not in their shoes.
But passion and knowledge are different. You can be passionate about something but know well-informed. Yes of course I was well informed but not a cricket buff ( like the way I can say-now- I am a bollywood buff) Records, achievements, career, statistics used to escape my notice. I only used to be mesmerized and thrilled by the very soul of cricket. Whenever the Indian team walked on to the field, whenever I used to look at a photograph of a favourite cricketer on a card which used to come free with a chewing gum once. So the passion did not seep into research and by the time the evening tuitions took away my freedom to go to the field and play the game unchained, and by the time the pressure of studies and other attractions guiled me, the passion towards the game was going afar.
Now i am left with the memories, layman knowledge and the same old lack of remembrance or interest in statistics- the first step that can make you a successful journalist or more so a cricket historian. But, never mind!
Yes, exciting. I used to be a cricket crazy individual, innocent and adventurous, unassuming and emotional. I loved cricket. But, only cricket. The over hype of the game in our country had roped me as a victim too. So the other sports were completely ignored by the seeds of passions fresh in my mind during those days. And that is a prime reason- my lack of knowledge regarding other sports like football, hockey, the olympics, tennis, badminton etc.- why i am not in their shoes.
But passion and knowledge are different. You can be passionate about something but know well-informed. Yes of course I was well informed but not a cricket buff ( like the way I can say-now- I am a bollywood buff) Records, achievements, career, statistics used to escape my notice. I only used to be mesmerized and thrilled by the very soul of cricket. Whenever the Indian team walked on to the field, whenever I used to look at a photograph of a favourite cricketer on a card which used to come free with a chewing gum once. So the passion did not seep into research and by the time the evening tuitions took away my freedom to go to the field and play the game unchained, and by the time the pressure of studies and other attractions guiled me, the passion towards the game was going afar.
Now i am left with the memories, layman knowledge and the same old lack of remembrance or interest in statistics- the first step that can make you a successful journalist or more so a cricket historian. But, never mind!
Monday, March 8, 2010
Distant Surmises
Ya so its my 100th post! Way to go! (umm...a little long way perhaps...as far as I can recollect I started blogging around 3 to 4 yrs back....ha ha so that would mean 25 blog posts per year ....or to put it simply, 2 blogs per month. well, a snail's pace has finally got me to the century mark. But then again...
Its a landmark event. Thank you very much. Much accentuated by the Calcutta trip I am about to undergo in a short period of time from now. Ya i still dream to ramble on those romantic wide stretches of red road in South calcutta amidst a drizzle, with the maidan on my left; and to drive through em by pass with the wind caressing my hair and blocking my audibility, I so wish to pass those golden hours simply by looking down to the roads and the playground where children (or lack of them) play to their heart's content and also the roads from my balcony where cars zoom past and I try to identify the make of each of them; how I wish to roam those salt lake alleys clutching your palms tightly and taking each step and making a vow, how I wish I pass through those dingy roads of north kolkata, charmed by the sights, smells and sounds, in a taxi and smile surreptitiously. Oh Calcutta, you will always be with me. No matter wherever I go, no matter wherever destiny takes me, the affinity towards you will grow manifold each time i get an opportunity to visit you.
I was recently stumped by a question asked by one of my colleagues about what kind of a person I am by nature. I was zapped thoroughly. What kind of a person i am? Never thought of it. Or maybe I did and every time i have wandered off to a nearby topic failing to gather moorings into the earlier issue of discourse in melancholy. It was a very deadly question. i failed to answer. I groaned, I whizzed but no words cam out of my mouth. Strange but I still remember I used to consider analysing one's character (that of a friend) na favourite pastime of mine while in college. But now, There have been so many instances that i have been proved otherwise that before venturing out to be judgemental about an individual's disposition, I correct myself and take the road most treaded by people. I cease to dedicate myself. I choose not to. Including mine. Scary, yes, but true, i guess.
When I was returning home today, I recalled that somebody had passed on his thoughhtful and invaluable advice to me sometimes when I was in dire need of it during the junction when i was to decide, whether I will step towards the field of media (television) or not. That gentleman, whom (fortunately) i fail to recall, said with utmost confidence and zeal that there is no such work as production work in tv. And I detest myself for not scrutinising the advice properly or not re checking it (although it did not turn a sore for me) I am finding scope in production work and the words of the particular gentleman that you HAVE to be a reporter to be in TV news is a myth, I discover now. Also a few months back when a very well known reporter from a leading TV channel asked me to become a reporter for her channel, I understood that under the veil of whatever solemnity and grandeur she attached to reporting, the plain deal was that her channel was in dire need of reporters and if it comes witha cheap price tag, then why not? Cheap labour, I see so many around me in the newsroom everyday. I feel sad but unable.
Last but not the least, there was a time when I was astonishingly unable to find faults with me, major ones I mean. But nowadays i do. Such is life. Such are revelations. Amen.
Its a landmark event. Thank you very much. Much accentuated by the Calcutta trip I am about to undergo in a short period of time from now. Ya i still dream to ramble on those romantic wide stretches of red road in South calcutta amidst a drizzle, with the maidan on my left; and to drive through em by pass with the wind caressing my hair and blocking my audibility, I so wish to pass those golden hours simply by looking down to the roads and the playground where children (or lack of them) play to their heart's content and also the roads from my balcony where cars zoom past and I try to identify the make of each of them; how I wish to roam those salt lake alleys clutching your palms tightly and taking each step and making a vow, how I wish I pass through those dingy roads of north kolkata, charmed by the sights, smells and sounds, in a taxi and smile surreptitiously. Oh Calcutta, you will always be with me. No matter wherever I go, no matter wherever destiny takes me, the affinity towards you will grow manifold each time i get an opportunity to visit you.
I was recently stumped by a question asked by one of my colleagues about what kind of a person I am by nature. I was zapped thoroughly. What kind of a person i am? Never thought of it. Or maybe I did and every time i have wandered off to a nearby topic failing to gather moorings into the earlier issue of discourse in melancholy. It was a very deadly question. i failed to answer. I groaned, I whizzed but no words cam out of my mouth. Strange but I still remember I used to consider analysing one's character (that of a friend) na favourite pastime of mine while in college. But now, There have been so many instances that i have been proved otherwise that before venturing out to be judgemental about an individual's disposition, I correct myself and take the road most treaded by people. I cease to dedicate myself. I choose not to. Including mine. Scary, yes, but true, i guess.
When I was returning home today, I recalled that somebody had passed on his thoughhtful and invaluable advice to me sometimes when I was in dire need of it during the junction when i was to decide, whether I will step towards the field of media (television) or not. That gentleman, whom (fortunately) i fail to recall, said with utmost confidence and zeal that there is no such work as production work in tv. And I detest myself for not scrutinising the advice properly or not re checking it (although it did not turn a sore for me) I am finding scope in production work and the words of the particular gentleman that you HAVE to be a reporter to be in TV news is a myth, I discover now. Also a few months back when a very well known reporter from a leading TV channel asked me to become a reporter for her channel, I understood that under the veil of whatever solemnity and grandeur she attached to reporting, the plain deal was that her channel was in dire need of reporters and if it comes witha cheap price tag, then why not? Cheap labour, I see so many around me in the newsroom everyday. I feel sad but unable.
Last but not the least, there was a time when I was astonishingly unable to find faults with me, major ones I mean. But nowadays i do. Such is life. Such are revelations. Amen.
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