Tuesday, December 15, 2009

Vande Cricketum!

I am a cricket lover. I am a die hard Indian supporter, no doubt. I simply love Sachin doing his magic and Sehwag pulverising the opposition. I get the feeling of adrenaline at every century hit, every boundary scored, every sixer hit and every crucial over and not to forget, every wicket taken.

All this apart, personally, for me, sport is more than just being patriotic. Although it has been that way and it will continue to be so, I have been having a deep thought of disassociating nationalism/patriotism from sport, especially cricket.

In fact, cricket is much beyond patriotism. It is an art. A science. A true cricket-lover would appreciate any team winning against any other. She would love any player do his job the best way(I used "she" as a syntax to please any feminist that would appreciate my article!). In fact, the very reason Sachin is successful is because he loves the game. Often interpreted as the love for the country, more often proved so than not, it essentially boils down to one fact. Sachin is in pursuit of excellence. Every other game he improves himself. He just loves to go down there, invent new shots, perfect the already invented ones and add total charm to the game. The sport evolves.

Even now, I must agree I am bordering on the lines of hypocrisy by unduly talking mostly, if not entirely about Sachin. See. Yet again. But human nature and tendency makes me so. But, I would like to share a thought. I have a feeling that commentators like Gavaskar and Shastri are doing a great job. They up the euphoria during every century hit, every boundary scored, every sixer hit and every crucial over and not to forget, every wicket taken**(In lack of a better expression, I settled for a copy-paste). But beyond a point it seems like much ado about nothing. By doing so, they often miss the finer nuances of the game. It gives undue (im)balance of perspective to one team alone. Instead, they could border(pun intended) more on technique. On strategy. On appreciating cricket as a pure art form. Or science. Or perhaps even engineering*(to please my fraternity) .And for this I would recommend (if I had the powers), to bring in commentators from other countries, more experienced ones like the Windies and South Africa. They don't necessarily need to have been int'l players, do they?(I am not requesting for Man-deera's, sorry feminists). However to cool you, Anjum Chopra could just be a perfect choice.

I am writing this article for three reasons.
3. To prove to myself that I can write.
2. To kick the laziness in me.
1. To want more people to 'like' this comment passively.
0. To spring up a thread where people can discuss more on the ideas put-up
-1.To criticize me.

So please go on, do item no. 0, and feel free to appreciate me on items 3 to negative 1.

Escape
Aravindh

Peace...
Or not

Posted on my facebook notes on December 4, 2009

The Smart Rasika

Exam time begins, and my mind slips away into deep reverie on how I’m going to enjoy my holidays. And once done, my musical journey starts. On Friday I had been to Sanjay Subrahmanyam’s concert. It was at a half-past-six, but I saw no throngs of people, waiting to nudge their way through with a no-care-attitude as to whose toes are getting stamped. Surprisingly, the smart rasikas were already inside, listening to the earlier concert!

In the balcony, there were just steps, like the chepauk stadium B-Stand, where one is comfortable in the “chaplaankaal” posture. Quite contrastingly in the lower bays, chairs were haphazard for maamis wanting to socialize like in a wedding. My uncle, managed it into the VIP bay claiming “Enakku IG ya nalla theriyum”. Envying, I wanted to experiment. Luckily, I was wearing a Fab India Kurta. Maintaining a gait of an elite rasika, I walked towards the VIP gate. The security guy there, believing that I was a musical stalwart, saluted me with a customary “Namaskaram” and ushered me to a seat in the VIP bay! I was on cloud nine.

The kutcheri began. Junta were on “talaiyaattal” mode. I’m sure its a good exercise for spinal stenosis. Or would it worsen it? The heads rotate, gyrate, shake with all possible degrees of freedom with an oft repeated Aah..ah! or Sabaash…!! In identifying ragas, our people are the best. The man in the olive green shirt got it spot on as “Sahana”, whispered it carefully to his wife only being loud enough for the eavesdropping maama two rows away ready for an auditory catch. What comes next is predictable. The maama was boisterously exulting… “Sahana…aha”…. “Sahana…aha”.

Figuring out taalams? Hilarious! I saw not ONE but TWO maamis clad in exquisite “pattu” sarees, earnestly tapping “Adi Taalam” with their fingers swaying in air, for a song undoubtedly in “Rupaka Taalam” which Sanjay was tapping with all josh.

The attitude which Sanjay exuded was super-cool. His pronunciation was crystal-spashtam. His energy levels are unprecedented and he sure is as charismatic as he is referred to be. The theme - Dhandapani Desikar was an appropriate tribute on his centenary. Tamizh in its purest form reverberated through the hall and our minds. Profound philosophy emanated in golden words and undulating ragas.

The “Kelvi Neram” was the icing on the cake. All questions were given witty and thought provoking replies. Sanjay redefined music, being totally creative, making us truly enjoy music like never before. With rib-tickling ripostes and soul-stirring renditions, Sanjay “Splendid” Subrahmanyam took us all to seventh heaven with just seven beautiful swaras.

Aravindh Kamakshinadha

December 6, 2008