I was one of those patriotic sports lovers, who criticised the SYSTEM (To me, it includes all those negative factors pulling us down as a nation), for our performance at all levels of sports and games. I was one among those 1 billion inferior souls. Before a few days, when the whole world was preparing for this big event, The Beijing Olympics, I read an article in Economic Times, which said that BRIC nations has grown its gold medals tally 40% over the last three Olympics. It made me so proud for a moment before my grey cells started doing that math, because it includes India in that four nation bloc. There was no reason for me to be proud as an Indian, for that statement, as India had contributed no gold to increase the count. Yeah, I could have been proud because we did not decrease the count :). There should be many like me, who thought, why a country with so huge population could not even win a single medal. It was deep bruise in so many hearts.
Yesterday, came the ointment, which I call "The Bindra Soothe'r". Abinav Bindra, won the first individual gold medal in the Olympics, for our nation, in the 10 metre air rifle event.
Still there can be discussions and debates about the SYSTEM, on whether IT had any contribution in his run to the podium, whether the SYSTEM is conducive in the same way to all class of sports(wo)men, whether it is just an event or a good start. For now, leaving behind these debates, it is really soothing to hear our national anthem being played at the Olympics.
Monday, August 11, 2008
Saturday, August 02, 2008
Muttai to Nandhu
Today morning I got a call from Nanthakumar, when I was about to wake up from my second innings of sleep. It was a casual call, having no significance to this topic. The significance was the first sentence that I spoke, which pushed me to write. The sentence is "Tell Nandhu", in our vernacular. It might sound quite normal without having enough background.
@@@@@@@@@Flashback@@@@@@@@@
The year is 1998 and the scene is set at Dr. Mahalingam College of Engineering and Technology, Pollachi. It was my first year in engineering, rather our first year engineering. The hostel, which enclosed a variety of dialects, variety of characters due to variety of students from a variety of region across the state, was always overflowing with excitement. My abode was room number 108. The neighboring room 109 was occupied by Nanthakumar from Namakkal. As days passed people in the neighboring rooms came closer, as do me and Nanthakumar. This is when Nanthakumar, a very innocent guy, was baptized "Muttai" against his will and wish. It means "Egg", denoting "Namakkal - Highest egg producing place", where he hails from. This became a very popular name among our college-mates. Everyone recognized him more with this name than his original one. I was one among those behind this baptism and the users.
Nine years passed by. I worked with one of the technology company among the many, which dotted Bangalore, as any Electronic engineer would do. Nanthakumar followed his passion and had cleared the UPSC exams, with a distinction of first rank holder from our state. He was undergoing training at Mussourie. The frequency of contact was reduced, though we were in touch.
@@@@@@@@@Flashback@@@@@@@@@
This year, he is undergoing training as Asst. Collector, Coimbatore. We talk quite often, to be in touch, though he has got little free time. But I m little hesitant to call him by name, which we baptized, "Muttai". This became quite apparent when I addressed him as "Nadhu", this morning. As I ponder, I have different reasons like he should not be called by that name in front of other sub-ordinates and so. But the reality is basically the "Glorified and Respectful" designation that he is holding, which makes me hesitant.
This is the best example of taking the criticism head-on and reply back with actions.
@@@@@@@@@Flashback@@@@@@@@@
The year is 1998 and the scene is set at Dr. Mahalingam College of Engineering and Technology, Pollachi. It was my first year in engineering, rather our first year engineering. The hostel, which enclosed a variety of dialects, variety of characters due to variety of students from a variety of region across the state, was always overflowing with excitement. My abode was room number 108. The neighboring room 109 was occupied by Nanthakumar from Namakkal. As days passed people in the neighboring rooms came closer, as do me and Nanthakumar. This is when Nanthakumar, a very innocent guy, was baptized "Muttai" against his will and wish. It means "Egg", denoting "Namakkal - Highest egg producing place", where he hails from. This became a very popular name among our college-mates. Everyone recognized him more with this name than his original one. I was one among those behind this baptism and the users.
Nine years passed by. I worked with one of the technology company among the many, which dotted Bangalore, as any Electronic engineer would do. Nanthakumar followed his passion and had cleared the UPSC exams, with a distinction of first rank holder from our state. He was undergoing training at Mussourie. The frequency of contact was reduced, though we were in touch.
@@@@@@@@@Flashback@@@@@@@@@
This year, he is undergoing training as Asst. Collector, Coimbatore. We talk quite often, to be in touch, though he has got little free time. But I m little hesitant to call him by name, which we baptized, "Muttai". This became quite apparent when I addressed him as "Nadhu", this morning. As I ponder, I have different reasons like he should not be called by that name in front of other sub-ordinates and so. But the reality is basically the "Glorified and Respectful" designation that he is holding, which makes me hesitant.
This is the best example of taking the criticism head-on and reply back with actions.
Sunday, March 16, 2008
Remote interest!
This topic is along the same lines of my earlier post "Is this India?"
This is a narration of a small incident that happened yesterday. I, along with my father went to a very small village named Thalampatti, some 15 Km from the district headquarters, Pudukkottai. It is also necessary to explain the context of our visit. There is a small temple which was recently renovated at a huge cost of around 20 lakhs by all those people who owned it, maintained it or just had customary bondage. After this renovation (called Kumbabhishekam in Tamizh), by custom, there should be pooja for the next 48 days. Yesterday was one of these 48 days. Each day's pooja happen at a cost of few hundreds of rupees or a thousand.
My father and I reached the temple quite early. My father was explaining me the new developments and modifications, as this was my first visit after the renovation. During all this time, the pujari was preparing for the pooja, assisted by his aides, one man and two boys. While waiting for other people to come and start the pooja, we both sat in a shade and started browsing the books that we had. I had a book named "Nilamellam Ratham" (which means 'Land, full of blood' in Tamizh). This book is about the political history of Israel and Palestine. One of those boys who was helping the pujari, after finishing his job, stood behind me and started telling to others that this book is about Palestine, the relation between Palestine and Yasir Arafat and more, while others were uninterestedly listening.
Then the pooja started, he was totally engrossed in helping, commanded by visitors and pujari himself. It would not be fair just to mention "help" everywhere as his work, which does not give any significance of what sort of work did he do. He was wiping and cleaning the floor, fetching water for the pujari and so. The pooja went on for more than an hour. It was hot and sultry day, with little showers last night. So, once the ritual was over and prashad was provided, people went to shades to rest and gossip. I was one among those. After an hour or so, we prepared to leave. I went inside the temple to take the book from the window where I had kept it, while the pooja started. I was amazed to see this boy sitting near the window, drenched with sweat and reading the book.
I said, "Hi, do you like the book?". Pat, came the answer with a smile, in a continuous, uninterrupted flow, "Yeah! I like it very much. I had gone through the first few pages when I found this book in a local hotel, which also runs a book shop". The hotel and the book shop he mentioned can not be interpreted in terms of the hotel or book shop that we are used to, in the cities. The village I m talking about might comprise of 50 to 75 families. I could not provide the exact data, due to lack of statistics. The hotel and book shop he mentioned was in the next big village, which acts as a hub for few other villages, included. To bring a picture in your mind, all these shops are just made of thatched roofs.
I got curious to talk more with this boy. The main reason was a direct comparison of this boy with few of my friends in the city, who came across this book and wondered if such good books are available in Tamizh.
We continued our talk for next few minutes, while I came to know a lot of interesting things from him. Below is a narration of our conversation,
Me: Do you go to school?
Boy: Yes. I study 8th standard in Nachandupatti.
(Nachandupatti is a little bigger village. But this school is quite big for the size of the village)
Me: What subjects do you study? (I started saying Ariviyal, which means science in tamizh, to make him confortable to explain in Tamizh also)
Boy: (continued in English) English, Tamizh, Science, Social Science and Maths.
Me: Do you have enough teachers in your school? Does the teacher come to class properly? I heard that in villages, the teachers don't come to classes properly.
Boy: No, No. They come regularly and teach very well. My school has got centum (which means everyone has passed) results in SSLC exams, last year and before. He (showing the other boy) studies in this school (shows the near by building). I too studied in this school till 5th standard. Here, teachers don't come regularly.
Me: Is this a primary school.
Boy: Hmmm. This school is upto 5th standard only. Then you have to either go to Nachandupatti, which is around 5 Km from here, or to Pudukkottai which is around 15 Km from here. They have till 12th std. My school has good facilities. They have science lab and computer lab too.
Me: What is your school timing.
Boy: From 9:45 to 4:45, with half an hour break for lunch.
Me: Do you take lunch? (I wanted to know if Mid-day meal scheme of TN govt is applicable to him)
Boy: Yeah! I take lunch from home.
Me: How much is your yearly fees?
Boy: We need not pay. Ours is a government school. But few Chettiars in that village (he named a few) also help financially (which I understood for the maintenance of school).
Though I wanted to talk more, I was called to board the car. While I was moving, I finally asked him,
Me: Do you like books?
Boy: Yeah! very much. I had written two novels and got prize from "Rajeshkumar" (I think he is a famous novel author in Tamizh). I was awarded the "Best Orator" at Pudukkottai district level by the Governor.
I was jolted with surprise.
Me: Oh! This book is my friend's book. Otherwise I would have given you this. Can you give your address.
Boy: Not required. I ll be somewhere around the temple only.
I was moved so much, that this little guy is so capable, interested but lacks resources and nurturing.
This little boy, "Tamizharasan", which means "King of Tamizh", roams around the temple bare bodied, only with a trouser. I also noted that his body was full of scars. Later I came to know from my Grandmother that he got burnt in a fire accident, when he was refilling the kerosene stove. He had to be treated for few months at a hospital in Tanjore and his parents had to spend a couple of lakhs, just for treatment by taking loan. So, they could not afford for plastic surgery, though advised by the doctors.
This little guy in a remote village has a 'remote' interest of reading and writing books, which he cant afford to buy. But this remote temple in the same remote village is offered few lakhs of rupees for renovation and maintenance.
I was so moved that I consulted one of my uncle, to know whether this book can be bought at Pudukkottai where I can afford to spend few hours while returning back. I was told that Sunday was a holiday and all book shops would be closed. So, I made up my mind that I would buy and send this book to him, along with my mother who would visit this temple, some time in the next week.
This is a narration of a small incident that happened yesterday. I, along with my father went to a very small village named Thalampatti, some 15 Km from the district headquarters, Pudukkottai. It is also necessary to explain the context of our visit. There is a small temple which was recently renovated at a huge cost of around 20 lakhs by all those people who owned it, maintained it or just had customary bondage. After this renovation (called Kumbabhishekam in Tamizh), by custom, there should be pooja for the next 48 days. Yesterday was one of these 48 days. Each day's pooja happen at a cost of few hundreds of rupees or a thousand.
My father and I reached the temple quite early. My father was explaining me the new developments and modifications, as this was my first visit after the renovation. During all this time, the pujari was preparing for the pooja, assisted by his aides, one man and two boys. While waiting for other people to come and start the pooja, we both sat in a shade and started browsing the books that we had. I had a book named "Nilamellam Ratham" (which means 'Land, full of blood' in Tamizh). This book is about the political history of Israel and Palestine. One of those boys who was helping the pujari, after finishing his job, stood behind me and started telling to others that this book is about Palestine, the relation between Palestine and Yasir Arafat and more, while others were uninterestedly listening.
Then the pooja started, he was totally engrossed in helping, commanded by visitors and pujari himself. It would not be fair just to mention "help" everywhere as his work, which does not give any significance of what sort of work did he do. He was wiping and cleaning the floor, fetching water for the pujari and so. The pooja went on for more than an hour. It was hot and sultry day, with little showers last night. So, once the ritual was over and prashad was provided, people went to shades to rest and gossip. I was one among those. After an hour or so, we prepared to leave. I went inside the temple to take the book from the window where I had kept it, while the pooja started. I was amazed to see this boy sitting near the window, drenched with sweat and reading the book.
I said, "Hi, do you like the book?". Pat, came the answer with a smile, in a continuous, uninterrupted flow, "Yeah! I like it very much. I had gone through the first few pages when I found this book in a local hotel, which also runs a book shop". The hotel and the book shop he mentioned can not be interpreted in terms of the hotel or book shop that we are used to, in the cities. The village I m talking about might comprise of 50 to 75 families. I could not provide the exact data, due to lack of statistics. The hotel and book shop he mentioned was in the next big village, which acts as a hub for few other villages, included. To bring a picture in your mind, all these shops are just made of thatched roofs.
I got curious to talk more with this boy. The main reason was a direct comparison of this boy with few of my friends in the city, who came across this book and wondered if such good books are available in Tamizh.
We continued our talk for next few minutes, while I came to know a lot of interesting things from him. Below is a narration of our conversation,
Me: Do you go to school?
Boy: Yes. I study 8th standard in Nachandupatti.
(Nachandupatti is a little bigger village. But this school is quite big for the size of the village)
Me: What subjects do you study? (I started saying Ariviyal, which means science in tamizh, to make him confortable to explain in Tamizh also)
Boy: (continued in English) English, Tamizh, Science, Social Science and Maths.
Me: Do you have enough teachers in your school? Does the teacher come to class properly? I heard that in villages, the teachers don't come to classes properly.
Boy: No, No. They come regularly and teach very well. My school has got centum (which means everyone has passed) results in SSLC exams, last year and before. He (showing the other boy) studies in this school (shows the near by building). I too studied in this school till 5th standard. Here, teachers don't come regularly.
Me: Is this a primary school.
Boy: Hmmm. This school is upto 5th standard only. Then you have to either go to Nachandupatti, which is around 5 Km from here, or to Pudukkottai which is around 15 Km from here. They have till 12th std. My school has good facilities. They have science lab and computer lab too.
Me: What is your school timing.
Boy: From 9:45 to 4:45, with half an hour break for lunch.
Me: Do you take lunch? (I wanted to know if Mid-day meal scheme of TN govt is applicable to him)
Boy: Yeah! I take lunch from home.
Me: How much is your yearly fees?
Boy: We need not pay. Ours is a government school. But few Chettiars in that village (he named a few) also help financially (which I understood for the maintenance of school).
Though I wanted to talk more, I was called to board the car. While I was moving, I finally asked him,
Me: Do you like books?
Boy: Yeah! very much. I had written two novels and got prize from "Rajeshkumar" (I think he is a famous novel author in Tamizh). I was awarded the "Best Orator" at Pudukkottai district level by the Governor.
I was jolted with surprise.
Me: Oh! This book is my friend's book. Otherwise I would have given you this. Can you give your address.
Boy: Not required. I ll be somewhere around the temple only.
I was moved so much, that this little guy is so capable, interested but lacks resources and nurturing.
This little boy, "Tamizharasan", which means "King of Tamizh", roams around the temple bare bodied, only with a trouser. I also noted that his body was full of scars. Later I came to know from my Grandmother that he got burnt in a fire accident, when he was refilling the kerosene stove. He had to be treated for few months at a hospital in Tanjore and his parents had to spend a couple of lakhs, just for treatment by taking loan. So, they could not afford for plastic surgery, though advised by the doctors.
This little guy in a remote village has a 'remote' interest of reading and writing books, which he cant afford to buy. But this remote temple in the same remote village is offered few lakhs of rupees for renovation and maintenance.
I was so moved that I consulted one of my uncle, to know whether this book can be bought at Pudukkottai where I can afford to spend few hours while returning back. I was told that Sunday was a holiday and all book shops would be closed. So, I made up my mind that I would buy and send this book to him, along with my mother who would visit this temple, some time in the next week.
Saturday, January 05, 2008
World Champions - Cheap, Cheaper or Cheapest?
Today was the last day of the 2nd test between Australia and India, which was pushed in favour of Australia. I watched the match entirely from early morning in India. At the end of the day I was very disappointed, not because India lost or India was made to lose with so many umpiring blunders all through the match, but the way my favorite team, Australia played on the last day. There were so many false appeals. Even though such appeals are natural instinct when a team is at the verge of victory, the appeals made by Australians today were at heights. Ricky Pointing, the Australian captain caught an extraordinary catch off the pads, placed the ball on the ground while balancing and appealed so loud as if he was not aware the ball tapped the ground. Firstly, that wasn't a catch as it never touched the bat. Secondly, the catch was not at all completed. This is one such incident on the last day. Should I call it cheap, cheaper or cheapest cricket when both teams were equally poised to win the match. I would call it neither, rather I would call it cowardice of the world champions to face the reality of losing a test match after winning 15 matches in a row. I have no respect to such a team which could go so low and do such mean acts just for their fame and 'fake' victory.
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