The Shimlayan Adventure

I stood there awe-struck.The chill Himalayan air seeped through every inch of my body invigorating me.The magnificient Himalayas lay before me, a spectacle to behold. Huge undulating folds, enveloped in lush greenery,spotted with red brick huts; silent, serene,understanding and at peace. Puffs of overflowing clouds fringed the ranges and the setting sun splashed a bucket of rainbow colors onto the clouds’ white canvas. My favorite song played in my head as it always does when I’m unusually happy;

Kitni Narmi Se , Kitni dheere se,

Dil mein aati hain,dabe paon Mohobbat

Aur phir,

Dhadhkon mein yeh chupkar dolti hai,

Rang sa zindagi mein gholti hai,

Aankhon aankhon mein jaise bolti hai,

Haule se, Dheere se

Slowly but surely love flowed out of me, love for life, love for being there and when you are in love everything is all the more beautiful, more colorful. I stood there lost, transfixed. Mountains have always had this effect on me. They evoke a sense of spirituality in me; huge, foreboding creations of God yet so calm, so giving, so majestic, so protective, so uncorrupted, a silent reminder of the might of creation.  This was my first morning in Shimla and it was a knockout.

We ( my parents and I) started the journey early one cool monsoon morning in July and took the 7 o’clock Kingfisher flight to Delhi . Our connecting flight to Shimla was due in an hour from the time of landing but due to bad weather(I suspect low passenger capacity) the flight was cancelled and we were left stranded in the national capital. Thankfully, we had a local Shimlaiite with us on route and he recommended we board the afternoon flight to Chandigarh and then drive down to Shimla.We had no choice and I was up for a visually stimulating car journey! Chandigarh was overcast and chilly. We hired an Innova with a driver who a cheerful , talkative chap and set off just in time before it started pouring.  That car drive would rank high up in my list of “most scenic” ( the most interesting+nerve racking would we the one where my Grandparents, mom, uncle and I were caught in a cyclone in Veraval, Gujrat!). The driver skilfully manouvered the vehicle on winding, treachrous and narrow paths as we steadily gained altitude. Apple carts,  verdant agriculture lands and brightly coloured trucks were few of the sights we passed by. Stopping only twice in our 5 hour journey(once for corn on the cob that we were forced to share with man’s closest relative aka the monkey and then for cutting chai and bread pakoda at the drivers’ hangout) we breezed into the hillstation just as the sun started retiring for the day.

We dropped our genial fellow traveller at his destination and carried towards our humble abode-the Oberoi Wildflower Hall. Perched atop a mountain at 8000ft, the front facade of this castle glowed in the blue moonlight. Aptly lit pathways led us directly to a grand entrance fit for a King.That we just hit the bed out of exhaustion after a sumptuous Himachali dinner of course!

The next morning I woke up to the chirping of birds and a golden Himalaya. We had decided that this holiday would be an exploratory one with as less time as possible spent thronging in shops So on the first day we went on a self-guided Strawberry Trail. As the weather gods would have it, the clouds began squeezing every drop of water they had. Armed with sturdy umbrellas we set off on the hour long trail through dense cedar and pine forests with only thrushes, cows, bright red strawberries and the silent plunk of raindrops  in the puddles for company. I’m not sure if I’m really made to spend time in solitude for after about half an hour or so I longed to see some signs of modernity and familiarity and you have no idea how ecstatic I was to see an electric pole!!!  We returned recharged with all the fresh mountain air. The rest of the day was spent touring the hotel’s grounds, reading in the library and playing a game (disastrously)of snooker.The next day we went on a mountain view trail…this one 2 and half hours long and with a guide who took us trekking through the same forests but in the opposite direction but this time we had stunning views of Shimla from above! He seemed to be a keen botanical expert and keenly point out rare species of plants and even beetles!

The Trek

By the end of  the trek my dad was panting unusually too much. That night he got worse. But still the next morning he braved the Mall road but by evening we had to order an oxygen cylinder.It turned out the high altitude and consequent low oxygen didnot suit him. We forced to cancel out trip to Manali and were confined to the hotel for the day. The Oberoi staff need a special mention becaue their courtesy and service was extraordinary. We felt like we were bing taken care of by family members. The chef visited and made special dietary adjustments . The staff  also arranged for us to be transported to a hotel at a lower altitude. And so we packed our bags and bid adieu to the serenity of Wildflower hall.

That night my dad’s health improved but we still needed to reach the plains and so our driver was called in early and we set off for Delhi. Thankfully by the time we had reached our destination my dad had gained much in health.

That’s how our Shimla hoiday ended. I will always carry  memories of the fresh air and welcoming mountains of Shimla

 

Here I am

It really has been quite a while since I last posted. I put it all down to a dicey net connection and constant travel. Now that I’m all settled it’s quite thrilling to put pen to paper..or….er… well fingertip to keyboard.

What have I been upto lately? Well thanks to  a brainwave my dad had last summer I moved to Mumbai and  appeared for a couple of mind-numbing MBA  entrance exams that the Indian education system has set-up to carry on the age-old tradition of torchering the prospective Indian student and draining every ounce of creative thinking from her brain . I appeared for CAT and NMAT and then finding them a robotic, senseless, drone of an experience which didn’t elicit an iota of interest in me, I decided  not to sit for any of the other exams, for fear of permanent damage to my psyche. I did fairly well though given my complete lack of preparation .A 92.53 percentile in CAT-which means I did better than 92.53% of  the 3,00,000 lambs who were prepared to be slaughtered at the altar of the toughest exam in the country. Ah, but to qualify for the haloed IIMs one needs an astonishingly high 99.75%tile or above. O boo, what the heck, so I’m not a geek.  I stumbled onto an alternate thrilling career choice and I’m happy to say I  was successful in clearing the interviews!!!!

So while I’ve been  basking in self-glory and soaking in all the compliments from my deluded relatives who had until now thought I was a good-for-nothing, jalebi munching,  burden on society, I have been upto much. I breathed in the crisp, clean morning air of the Himalayas in Shimla, was dazzled by the azure pond in my Great -Grandmother’s village in Kerela, gorged on wada-pavs and ragda puris at full throttle in the gallis of Mumbai and am now lounging in my bedroom in Sharjah.

Now, you must be getting an idea of what my next posts will be touching upon.

See you there:)

Until then I’m Back

My first diwali in Mumbai

 

A Wednesday- the birth of change?

What spanned out during the last 60 odd hours on the streets of my beloved Mumbai was atrocious and numbing. I wasn’t as much shocked as I was saddened and enraged. How dare they? What audacity and blatant disrespect for a country do they have that they storm in brandishing Ak-47s and shooting indiscriminately? What is even more harsh is that it took an attack on Mumbai’s elite for the angry voices of dissent to rise as if to say the earlier attacks were not as horrendous or the lives lost not as important. This wasn’t the first time that India had been attacked. She has been ravaged and bruised many a time in her illustrious past oft without time for healing before the next plunder but what shook me most deeply and weighs me down heavily is the direction my country is headed.

Change is the need of the moment in a financially wrought America but it would be equally apt in India’s context. Our politicians are not the sole problem, they are one of a mountain-load. Where does one begin? Across the board clinical, systemic change is the order of the day. For starters, we need to do away with an inefficient multi- party system with its vague and vagrant ideologies. A bi-party system will work well in an Indian setup where off late a coalition government seems to have become the norm. Secondly, we need to start voting for individuals as in the west. A rigorous test of competency of candidates for offices of high power and responsibility is, in my opinion, a basic requirement- a simple application of “By the People.” It’s quite bizarre that we have accepted the current system in place where the citizen has limited say in who leads the nation. A pre-requisite for this however is the availability of competent, intellectual, passionate and patriotic leaders. We have unfortunately been unable to produce one in the rank of Nehru and Gandhi post – independence which doesn’t augur well. Where have all the inspirational men and women gone, the ones who will show us the path to greatness, the ones who will stop the imminent head-on collision with disaster? Obviously the current situation is not conducive to the development of leaders and without one we are a nation of headless chickens. The root cause is disrepute caused by the current brand of corrupt politicians to the noble profession of Public Service. The best minds don’t want to venture out into the dark world of bureaucracy and red-tapesim. Even though we have a few gems  ( at least on paper), the political system is too stifling for these earnest individuals in power to wield it responsibly and efficiently.

Now that Mumbai -seige is over the blame-game has begun, civilians blaming politicians, the politicians pointing fingers at the intelligence bureau who in turn blame it on too many false alarms and an unfortunate porous marine line. Its time we all stopped complaining and accept the blame as individuals. We have been too casual in our approach and attitude towards our country’s growth. Yes the politicians have failed us but we too are a lawless lot of civilians. One look at the lack of self-discipline amongst drivers on our roads is ample evidence to this fact. We spit under “Yahan thookna mana hai” signs, park in no parking zones and are probably the only nation that accepts public urination. Most of the youth in small towns land up in the entertainment indusry and those in the city run after cushy financial jobs (Im one of them). How do you expect our armed forces to sustain itself if they are no qualified takers? The fault lies with government too. Money makes the world go round and whichever job pays the highest the youth will follow. Fine , so increase the pay-scales of the men- in- uniform. There are plenty of unemployed youth in the lower income bracket who wander around aimlessly eve-teasing or doing menial jobs. Train them, pay them well and put them on the marine coastline or better still make army training and posting compulsory for every child that graduates from school. I will sign up( even though I may be physically unfit) but given a chance Im ready to serve my country.

India needs an across -the -board change in mindset. I may sound naive in saying this but our country desperately needs a revival of a pre-independence fervour and passion. Only that will lead us towards being a nation that our freedom fighters died freeing.

Vande Mataram.

 

Ek Anek

A beautiful old video from Doordarshan on the  usage of plurals in Hindi thus subliminally hinting at the power of unity. Watch and enjoy.

 

Lost+ Baggage=Loggage

Exactly a week after my Kuwait trip I was all set to board a plane again. This time it was to Mumbai. My dad and I left home on a warm Friday morning and cruised through the empty Dubai roads. The check-in was done pretty quickly as we only had hand- baggage and soon enough we found ourselves in the bustling Duty-Free. As we had lots of time in our hands we decided to buy chocolates for a few relatives. Having bought for most we entered a heated discussion on the trype of chocolate my grandfather would prefer. I knew he likes smooth milk chocolates with no “bits” but it was a difficult task finding one. Mirroring our lives even chocolates dont come simple instead come with added albeit sometimes unwanted ingredients.

Finally in one corner of the shop we found a chocolate modelled on a gold bar and hence was made of nothing but pure chocolate. But then what should I buy? Dark or Plain ? Big block or individual pieces? Once decided we turned around only to find my bag and my dad’s briefcase missing. Mine was found a few metres away and must have been the result of my inattentiveness but my dad’s briefcase, which he had rested on his suitcase just to lift the box of chocolate, had vanished! He has travelled extensively and to a wide array of places but has never come across such a situation. He had let his guard down only because of the assumption that Dubai and its airport are safe – an image the country is very careful to maintain as is evident by the absence of a single sign in the whole airport warning and cautioning passengers of thievery.

What followed was a harrowing experience. Shock propelled us to retrace our steps and search frantically but in vain. It had been snatched from that very corner where we last stood engrossed in the fineries of chocolate ingredients. We immediately contacted the security guards who took a a whole minute to digest the situation exposing their ineptitude. We were told to contact the police on one hand and on the other were given the impression that they had informed through their internal phone. Another man approached with a similar complaint , his laptop bag was missing. My dad and I were quite stressed. The bag contained his laptop, passport and all his wallets with his credit cards and labour card! We were stranded and felt like our wings were clipped. Luckily I had my mobile on me but it had to be used sparingly because its I had left the charger in my dad’s bag in a last minute decision while leaving the house. My dad called his secretary and instructed him to inform all the banks of the loss. 15 minutes passed and nothing was done. I decided to go see the police myself who were placed in a very inconvenient end of the airport. Once there I was told that they had received no such notification which means that the last 15 minutes had just been spent waiting fruitlessly! They said they couldnot do much in such situations. On making my views on them quite clear they send to me to the actual police office! Another one?!?!?! I was confused. Anyway, I rushed upstairs hurting my knee in the process which still hurts as I write this. Once there I was told that they had found a black laptop bag and it was with those officials I had just left. Happy and glad I went down only to discover that it was the other man’s laptop and he had misplaced it. It was never stolen! Dang!

Once again I rushed up and explained the situation to the seemingly lethargic members. One of them then, in the presence of me and four other inactive officers, called every shop in the airport to check if anyone was seen with a black bag or had left it there! What a waste of time. I probed, pushed and poked them to check the security cameras to which they obliged. An officer was sent with me and on our way to the camera room I found my dad walking towards us in frustration. Nothing had transpired since I left him. We knew the situation was a gone-case. Tracking the man was a seemingly impossible task but because we knew the exact time and place of the event, if one had acted with speed and checked the cameras, the individual could have been spotted. Anyway, I stood outside the camera room, reservedy for Authorised Personnel only in baited breath. My dad was making a whole lot of phone calls. Five minutes later two officers came out and informed us that they had found something near gate 22. Immediately visions of a police arrest flicked through my mind.How exciting. But it didnt turned out to be  so thrilling. They had not started checking their cameras yet but had received a call from the duty free on the first floor that there was an unattended black Condotti bag on the counter. We rushed there to find that it was indeed my dad’s bag but his Toshiba Notebook, Blackberry and $2000 hard cash were missing. The thief had gone about his work in a systematic and professional manner. He had opened every zip and pocket and gone through every wallet, cleaned it and left it in its original place as if untouched! Even an envelope containing some money was left in the bag sans the moolah ofcourse! The condotti bag left as a hand baggage but returned as a piece of lOggage;) (Bad joke?!?! I agree)

My dad’s passport, credit cards , journals and my charger (yipee) were left. He clearly didnt want to carry with him anything that was trackable but his decision to carry the mobile beats me. At that moment we called the number and it rang but the police admitted they were not equipped to track him down using that. My dad called his secretary and he informed the local service provider to shut down its service rendering it a paper weight. Also, were informed that this was a regular occurrence at the airport.We were exhausted emotionally. There were still 20 minutes left for boarding and so we made it just in time.

While in th e bus to the aircraft I intentionally spoke loudly in English to my dad to make others aware of the situation and warn them. It paid off. Many got involved in the discussion and expressed their shock that it had happened in Dubai. Oh well, all’s well that ends well. The next time I go to buy some chocolates at the duty free I will be more careful:)

 

Weekend Classics

As I write this I have to point out that Im suffering from serious IPL withdrawal symptoms. I don’t know what to make of my evenings anymore. Ive forgotten what life was like before the notorious IPL began. I see cricket bats and slogans everywhere. The team jingles are stuck in my head and refuse to budge. In a last attempt to prevent myself from ripping my hair off Ive decided to divert my attention with some blogging.

This weekend was spent in Kuwait. My dad was making an official trip and since my mom was in India I decided to join him but of course on one BIG condition- I would tread on Kuwait’s soil only if the hotel we were to stay in had ArtPrime sports. There was no way I was going to miss the IPL semi’s and final after having followed it religiously for over a month. After a check and a few more re-checks, the hotel confirmed the airing of the IPL. Luckily they had subscribed to the channel in anticipation of the UEFA Cup. Football had quenched my thirst for cricket!

We left home at 5:45 am on a warm Friday morning. We whizzed past a sleepy Sharjah into a bustling, almost overflowing Dubai airport. What would have taken a minimum of 2 hours on a usually jammed Dubai- Shj road took just 20minutes as it was a Friday. Once check-in was over we moved to the Lounge. Now, early morning is the worst time to be at the B. Class lounge because that’s when air-traffic is at its height, especially transit flights. We had 45 minutes to wile away but absolutely no place to sit. The DUbai authorities were clearly taking on more passengers than they could handle. Every couch, sofa and chair was occupied. All those who hadn’t found a place to lift their feet up were walking around aimlessly like groggy zombies. Arms outstretched some stood in front of the coffee machine waiting for their daily shot of caffeine. My dad and I managed, after a brief suffocating search in the smoking area, to snuggle ourselves between a man fast asleep and a potted plant. Phew. A hot glass of hot milk later it was time to board the plane and was I glad to leave!

Once in the plane I asked for a blanket, switched on the Radio Channel to Desi Mix and as soon as the flight took off I was fast asleep. A sharp nudge from a caked up air-hostess woke me from my deep slumber. It was time to land. The flight had lasted a short 80 minutes. The immigration finished quite quickly. A car had come to pick us up and drive us to Hilton. It was 8:45am local time and the temperature was already 36 degrees celcius! Shades on and A/C on full blast I was ready to see Kuwait. My first impression was- very townish much like Muscat, very laidback but had a quaint charm about it. The roads were amazingly smooth. Add to that an American car and we were flying. There were lot of similarities with the English road network namely short bridges and narrow highways that cut through open fields, only in this case it was open desert. The buildings averaged at around 7 floors and were surprisingly colorful! The roads were sparsely populated but that could be attributed to it being a Friday.

Once we reached the hotel there were some security checks done on account of the hotel being used frequently by the US army. My dad had moved up a tier to a Hilton Gold card member so we got a sea-facing room. It was a decent sized room and the bathroom was spacious- thats what I cared about. My dad’s colleague and his wife had come over for lunch so we joined them for a buffet. While there was a lot of variety at the Teatro restaurant there wasn’t much for a vegetarian. My dad and I opted for a stir-fry which was quite delicious. Rice, youghurt and Vegetable jalfrezi followed. Then it was time for some dessert and my there were so many to choose from. The chocolate fountain beckoned me, so I returned to my table with heaps of strawberries dipped in melted heaven. Then I had some date-pudding and Umm-ali. We talked for hours(4 to be exact) on everything from travelling in the Himalayas to a career in journalism.

After a brief rest my dad and I hit the gym to burn off all those extra calories we had consumed. Once completely exhausted we reached the room just in time for the first semi’s. Washed and cleaned I was ready to watch some exciting cricket. The first innings was pretty much dominated by the delhi daredevils which worried me because I wanted the RR to reach the finals as they deserved too. I knew Delhi would prove to be an easier team to play if Chennai made it to the finals ( I was sure they would given their track record against Kings XI) but I wanted to see some good cricket being played in the Finals. Moreover,if Chennai won against a worthy team like RR then the success would be sweeter! But once the 2nd innings began Warney’s men completely demolished the Daredevils with their bowling. The match was pretty one-sided and I heaved a sigh of relief although I would have liked to see some nail-biting cricket.

The next morning on my way to the restroom I just happened to glance upon a golden sunrise,an amber gem frolicking on the waves. I was so tired from the workout the previous night that I didn’t have enough energy to pry my eyes open so slept through the beautiful sunrise. I awoke, much to my dismay, to an overcast sky that had blended with the ocean. Suddenly,as if by magic the sun peeked through the clouds and the dull sea sprung to life-a shimmering ocean of satin. It was divine.

The rest of the day was spent pretty much in the room, reading and watching TV. The Kuwait Times isn’t a very interesting paper to read, not much news. The food in hotel was disappointing as well mainly because there was hardly any vegetarian choice-2 items to be exact.Shocking. So I had to have spaghetti for two days as I was trying to avoid pizza, the other item on the list. That evening my dad’s college friend invited us to his house for dinner and the match. We reached just in time,Chennai had lost the toss and was fielding and as we entered the house Ntini had struck in his very first over. I was thrilled. What a match that was. GOny,Ntini,Morkel,Murli, all clicked. Kings XI were falling like a pack of cards. It was comical and saddening at the same time. I would have expected much more from Yuvraj’s Kings. I guess it was Super Kings’ day!

Oh well, that night I went to bed a happy girl. The next morning after hitting the gym and a continental breakfast I went to the beach. It was the best time of the day. The morning heat was just catching up and the beach was empty. I threw my shoes and ran into the waves and what a feeling it was. I was going to a beach after 5 whole years! It was like the meeting of two long-lost lovers. While the waves caressed my feet, the ocean breeze wrapped me in its warm sultry arms. I was a 5 year old again. I wrote on the sand, made a make-shift castle and ran from one end to the other. My dad was watching, amused, from the canopy.Then it got too hot to bear so I returned, grudgingly, to my room.

That day too was spent reading .In the evening was the Grand Finale of the IPL. I turned on about half an hour into the closing ceremony as I wasn’t aware of its scheduling. It was impressive but boring. I’ve never found trapeze artists and men jumping through fire hoops interesting. The Mumbai crowd gave a thunderous response though. I watched with envy because I knew I could have been there had my trip to India not been cancelled. Anyway, at least I got to watch the match on TV.

The final toss of the IPL and Dhoni lost; never mind I thought, Chennai had won matches where they didnt chase. In anycase, Dhoni’s smile always makes me happy Captain cool’s team had a good start until Vidyut fell but Raina and Parthiv took on the reigns. However, this match was just too unpredictable to written off that early. It swung like a pendulum with both RR and SK giving a good fight. The last 5 overs did slow down a bit but a score of 163 seemed defendable on the DY Patil Pitch. The second innings was a script writers dream. While Ntini, Morkel and Gony weaved some magic, sloppy fielding( Yusuf’s dropped catch proved extremely costly) and Balaji undid for Chennai. The match even saw a rare animated Dhoni who seemed to get in a minor verbal tussle with Umpire Billy Bowden over a “caught behind wicket” decision. WIth 7 wickets down RR did look in some trouble but Pathan proved to be a match winner. The super Kings did put up a good fight though dragging it to the very last ball. Balaji’s wide ruined it At the end of the day the consistent side won. I was disappointed but yet glad that at least Chennai lost to such a worthy opponent. While the triumphant Royals were jubilating, my eyes were drawn to the Super Kings. Their skipper Mahendra Singh Dhoni led his entire team to a huddle which just went to show the level of unity and camraderie in the Chennai side.It was thrilling end to a brilliant, exciting and entertaining series.

The next morning there was just enough time for a quick shower and breakfast before catching the flight back to Dubai. I bid adieu to my home of three days and the ocean and with a heavy heart boarded the plane. It was truly a relaxing weekend.

 

A-List

IPL has become too painful for me. The two teams whose staunch supporter I have remained throughout the series seem to be bailing out on me. So much so that every time Dhoni pops up on TV, brandishing his bat to “Chennai Super Kings. Support your team,” I am forced to retort “I do! But you dont seem to be proving its worth.” Adding salt to my injury is a jittery Mumbai Indians team who have washed their hands off three close, nail-biting matches to frazzled nerves. My heart aches too much so I have renounced IPL till the semi’s.

I decided to put the free-time made available to good use and made a list of goals that I will set to achieve before I turn the ripe-old age of 25. This list excludes the usual Master’s degree, MBA, top-notch, highly-paying job, goals that would probably feature on everyone’s list. This is a list of deep desires, of simmering passion for knowledge and of the thrills of an adrenalin-rush. In no particular order:

• Watch all three extended edition installments of the LOTR trilogy in one setting permitting only toilet breaks
• Dye my hair red and then blue
• Trek the Hampta Pass, Rohtang Pass and the Chandertal Lake up North in Himachal Pradesh and Uttarakhand, India
• Learn Kalaripayattu, the ancient martial art form of India considered to be the forbearer of all other forms of martial arts
• Climb a tree
• Join/Start a secret society
• Take a dip in the Ganges
• Learn Spanish & Chinese
• Buy a Range Rover
• Read every book written by P.G.Wodehouse
• Be part of a political rally
• Play gully cricket
• Buy a Wii game station

Will review this 5 years hence and it will prove to be an interesting examination

I’m off to find a tree.

 

Side Effects of a Mumbai Visit

I’ve been quite blog-inactive for the past couple of weeks .The reason being I was in Mumbai with only a Blackberry to access the world of internet. Advanced though it may be, mobile web-service is extremely irritating when it comes to managing a blog. For starters mobiles have a miniscule screen and then there is the issue of unavailable softwares, applets etc.etc. Even Facebooking became a chore and the dismal speed left me on the brink of insanity. So I was left to fend for myself. My morning would begin with a hot cup of Red- Label All Spices tea, while I browsed through a crisp copy of The Times of India. Breakfast would follow along with my daily dose of “Breakfast News” on NDTV. I would then be forced and coerced by my mom to take a shower . Some more TV and random reading would ensue. Hot lunch and a quick nap would make -up the afternoon. Evenings would be spent on the balcony along with my grandmom observing passers-by and the innumerable birds that inhabit the trees in the compound. My 4 year old cousin would come by sometimes and provide a bit of unintentional amusement. Come 8 o’clock I would rush in great anticipation to the TV for a new round of DLF IPL match. I would be glued to the TV till it finished, which was usually around 12am, just in time for a trip to the Land- of -Nod.

That sums- up my indolent days at my grandparents’ place it . However, the past two weeks bore witness to a lot of events that I would have liked to mention on my blog but I dindt get to . So here is list that encapsulates some of the queer happenings that caught my eye.

• Raj Thackeray and his clan of “prescient” sycophants played the State patriotism card once again and proposed( through their trademark hooliganism) that institutions bearing the name Bombay must have it changed to Mumbai. Bombay Stock Exchange should become MSE, the prestigious Bombay Scottish School and textile power-house Bombay -Dyeing too would have to lose their brand name. Even the famous dish Bombay -Duck should not be spared. The reasoning- making Mumbai more Maharashtrian. They clearly have their hearts in the right place. A name- change will prove to be a panacea for a city that is plagued by rising crime rates, housing -shortages, power-cuts,decrepit roads and regular monsoon-flooding!
• Star Plus’s Jo Jeeta Wohi Superstar aired a sobby Mother’s Special episode on, come on, take a guess, Mother’s Day!!!! I love my mother but Im just bit too balanced to call her on stage, sing a song and then get so emotional only because its dedicated to my mom. If anything, I would be happy and so would she. I dont understand the tears. It was all a bit overdone for a show that is usually very realistic. The singing was good but I couldn’t watch beyond the second act due to the deluge of tears and switched to Sony. And boy was that a good idea.
• I discovered Comedy Circus. A brilliant reality show that brings India’s leading TV artistes to team up with Stand-up comedians in a fight for the top spot. The judges are Archana ( aha) Singh, Satish Shah and Shekhar Suman. Its already into its second season which means I missed a whole season of great wit! A must watch it airs every Saturday at 10pm.
• Radio Mirchi 98.3FM is conducting their own cricket league called the Mirchi Phaltu League (MPL) in answer to the DLF Indian Premiere League. Each RJ has a team selected on criterias that a national selector would find appalling . Jeeturaaj’s 983 has players who don’t know how to play cricket but just to crack jokes while Sana ke Sena is full of TV stars and singers. Anmol ke Mawaali has a state level player, Sunset Samosa ke Aloo team comprises of heavy weight members weighing over 100 kgs along with their brand ambassador ‘Chaalu Prasad Yadow’ and their slogan is “Jeetega bhai Jeetega Sunset Samosa Ka Aloo jeetega” while the NightroGen Rockstars has the coolest dudes in town. The excitement can be caught live everyday on-air between 6 and 10 pm and from what I remember the finale is on June 5.
• A month back Sprite countered Pepsi’s much-publicised Ranbir-Deepika Youngistaan ad with a clever, witty and very straight forward ad that was very true to its slogan “seedhi baat no bakwas.”In a similar bid, Pepsi has hit out against coca -cola franchise thums up whose trademark logo is a red “thumbs-up” sign Even Channel V has taken inspiration from IPl’s slogan “Manoranjan Ka Baap” and tagged its latest season Get Gorgeous 5 “Manoranjan Ki Ma Ki”. I guess, mimicry is the best form of flattery.
• Kolkatta KnightRiders made the lowest score in the IPL series, 68 all out!!! Balaji took the first hat-rick of the series, Mumbai have 6 straight wins, a calmer sreesanth has taken 13 wickets,Gambhir crossed the 500 run-mark and Rajasthan Royals, the underdogs, are into the semi -finals. The IPL is turning out to be a rollercoaster ride.

Oh well, I can’t recollect any more interesting episodes.Im off to watch Kings XI vs Mumbai Indians

 

Chennai Super Kings Dethroned

Last night, for the first time, I was able to relate to the heightened emotions experienced by football fanatics.There were times when I wanted to shovel Sehwag down a manhole and whack Mc Grath on his head for playing so well. I cried, I sulked and I abused.The Delhi Daredevils, well they came, they played and they conquered. My sunshine squad was left dumbfounded.

Dhoni’s side lost Hayden, Oram and Hussey to country duty and this seems to have taken its toll. Oram’s bowling was well missed but having said that they did played good cricket. It was just not enough to beat the Daredevils.

The homeside (Chennai) won the toss and elected to bat. The opening pair of Parthiv Patel and Stephen Fleming seemed a solid one to crack until Yomahesh walked in. His first over was an exciting one to watch. He duped Fleming into a catch with some brilliant pace attack only to discover it was a no-ball.To add insult to injury Fleming knocked a boundary off the free hit. One more free hit and a boundary later Yomahesh was thrilled to watch the stumps fly off into the air for a change and Fleming returned to the pavillion. Then came in a warrior in the disguise of S.Vidyut and he carried the match on his shoulders. However, wickets kept falling at regular intervals. Even Mc Grath returning hurt to the pavillion didnot benefit the Super Kings much. His niggardly bowling had done enough damage. Morkel added a few mighty boundaries at the very end of the innings and the Super Kings finished at 169 at the end of 20 overs.

Chennai                                                                                        R B 4’s 6’s SR

Parthiv Patel	c Y Mahesh b V Sehwag	21	20	3	0	105.00
Stephen Fleming	b Y Mahesh	13	13	2	0	100.00
Vidyut Sivaramakrishnan	c Y Mahesh b G McGrath	54	37	7	1	145.95
Mahendra Singh Dhoni (c) (wk)	c S Malik b M Asif	32	27	2	1	118.52
Albie Morkel	c V Sehwag b R Bhatia	28	16	3	2	175.00
Suresh Raina	run out (P Sangwan)	3	4	0	0	75.00
Subramaniam Badrinath	not out	11	5	0	1	220.00
Joginder Sharma	not out	0	0	0	0	0.00

Out came the Delhiities. 6 overs later with all wickets intact and a calm and composed innings from Sehwag I was sure this match would be won by the visitors. My TV was in great danger of being hit by one of my mom’s prized sculptures from Kochin, so I switched over to Star Plus instead. As predicted, Sehwag’s team did go on to win with 8 wickets intact. None of the Chennai bowlers could weave much magic save for Gony and Murli, but that too was not enough.

This is the story of how the reigning kings were toppled . They will strike back,oh yes, they will.

Delhi                                                                  R B 4’s 6’s SR

Gautam Gambhir	b M Gony	50	37	5	1	135.14
Virender Sehwag (c)	c M Muralitharan b J Sharma	71	41	7	4	173.17
AB de Villiers	not out	26	21	2	0	123.81
Shikhar Dhawan	not out	19	17	2	0	111.76

 

Ambani’s $2bn Home

Yes,you read right, 2 BILLION DOLLARS. While most of us can only literally dream of our “dream home” Mukesh Ambani has gone ahead and built himself a $2 billion mansion at the plush Altamount Road in Mumbai. This makes it the world’s richest, according to Forbes. A distant second on the list is the penthouse at Pierre Hotel ,New York, worth a what now seems a mere $70 million. Of course, the money being spent by Mukesh is a drop in the ocean compared to his $43 bn net-worth. He is the richest Indian resident and he clearly is leaving no stone unturned in living up to that title.

The end-product will stand tall at 550 feet(equivalent of a 60-storeyed building). The interiors, an approximate 4,00,000 sq ft, will be custom made to the utmost top quality.Each of the 27-floors will have its own distinct decoration and style. Repetition, apparently, was something Mukesh’s wife Nita was strictly averse to. Atop 6 floors of parking sits a grand lobby with 9 lifts. The skyscraper named Antilla, will feature a grand ballroom, cinema a four-storeyed landscaped garden, three-storeyed gymnasium,two floors of glass fronted apartments for guests and an air space floor which will act as a control room for helicopters landing on the helipad above. Phew.That is indeed a lot. To add to all that ,the top floor will be a relaxation space for friends and family with a panaromic view of the Arabian Sea. Now this is what I call living the “High” life.

I see no point in getting jealous,when I cant even afford a house 1/1000th its value. The only person who can probably afford to go green with envy is Mukesh’s brother Anil who is worth a whopping, but very close, 42 billion dollars