Monday, March 01, 2010

Sach is life…

Amidst the chaos and cacophony of our times there are few things as serene.
Amidst all the changes there has been one constant.
Amidst all the negativity and depression that symbolises the tenor of our times there have been few things as uplifting.
Thanks for blessing our days with sheer joy.
Thanks for making us believe.
Thanks for giving us hope.
Thank you Sachin for everything…

Saturday, April 25, 2009

Some dreams are worth the fight...

How do you think it feels to live a moment in life that you know you can’t surpass… that no matter what else you achieve in life it will still pale in the shadow of this moment… and to know that whatever trials and tribulations it took ‘it was worth all the while’…

Monday, October 13, 2008

My New Blog...

Sunday, August 27, 2006

An open letter to Mr. Sharad Pawar M.P., Minister in Central Cabinet and President of BCCI

I write this letter in my capacity as a long time fan and follower of Indian Sports especially Cricket. At the outset let me clarify that I am as convinced about your skills as a politician as anyone else. The fact that you have survived in the murky waters of Indian politics is an amazing feat in itself and the fact that you have served with distinction various political offices of our democracy makes it even more stupendous. But I would like to point out that cricket is not your usual cup of tea. When all other sports federations of India were busy playing to the fancies of whimsical administrators, Cricket had chosen to chart its own destiny, a destiny free of one thing that is the biggest obstacle to any progressive idea in our country, our government. So while other SFs lined up with their begging bowls at finmins doorsteps before every budget and once the alms were given promptly went to the serious business of arranging foreign trips and stiching blazers, Cricket chose to work on simple economic principles and decided to generate its own funds, develop its own infrastructure and creating its own demand. So when other sports administrators were busy ensuring that no player from their federation becomes more recongnised than themselves, cricket was negotiating with the leading broadcasters of the world to overthrow DDs monopoly over sports broadcasts in India and thus bring to its players and performers the recongnition they deserved. A lot of water has flown through the Brahmaputra since the mid 80s but far sighted decisions taken by the Dalmiya-Bindra administration at that time have stood Indian Cricket in good stead ever since. Fact remains that for a nation undergoing turbulent churning in the early 90s Cricket became the shining example for what a market driven decision making can do for the society. For people like me who got a sense of the world at that time Cricket and its success was the most powerful argument against popular leftist ideas of 80s. Because of Dalmiya-Bindra the 90s saw a shifting of the center of gravity of the world of cricket from the Long Room at Lord's to gullies of mofussil towns in India. India became the most powerful voice in the world of Cricket and BCCI the richest body. What is more important is that it was all only a beginning. Powerful winds of change were promising to herald a new era of professional management for Cricket, and it was looking like it would be cricket to which would go the credit for being the most powerful Indian body in any international fora. But it all seems so distant now. Cricket has proven itself no less susceptible to the vagaries of cheap politics than other sports in India. Sir, my concern for cricket does not stem out of my love for the game only. For many of us cricket and its success represented that one ray of hope which we could cling to in our lives. Cricket, more than a game represented the crystallization of a billion dreams of a safe and secure future in strong resurgent nation for us. Our greatest source of inspiration, strength and hope. It should not have been so, but for a nation let down by other social institutions, it was. The unraveling of this dream would mean the end of hope for many. You and your cronies come from a Mai-Baap system where little stress is put on niceties like taking care of your performers, developing infrastructure and planning for future. This is why I want to restate the importance of having a good administration for cricket. We haven't seen enough of your administrative skills in cricket to comment on them but if you can keep petty politics out of cricket and continue to build on the good work done by your predecessors and forget personal vendetta you would have done a great service to the nation. We still have hope, perhaps more than what we are entitled to, but hope nonetheless. We still continue to have a dream of a proud and prosperous nation. LET IT NOT END.
Yours in Sport,

Sunday, July 23, 2006

The ultimate goals of my life.

Remember those hindi film scenes where after the hero has brought home a lovely bride his mother says "Beta, ab main chain se mar sakti hun". Ever thought about that feeling of when there is nothing more left to achieve in life. When you feel that you have done all that you were supposed to in life and more, you have lived the purpose of you life and existence. This is a very special feeling indeed and it emanates from the fact that we have achieved something for which we have given our life to, and whatever happens tomorrow it will not take away the feeling or the fact that we treaded those dizzying hights today. Different people have different goals in life that can propel them to those high clouds. In atheletics and sports it is said to the feeling when you are in a 'zone' where nothing can go wrong or when you have achieved the ultimate (think a grand slam, a world cup, tour de France etc. etc.). In politics it is the realisation of a life long dream (he highest office any nation has on offer). In different areas of human activiy we have different things e.g. for our old hindi film mother it was her son's/daughter's marriage. I have two such goals in life and if ever I achieve them I believe I will feel myself in the same stage of mental euphoria as the old hindi film mother. My greatest dream in life is to get an Indian passport that blue and gold document that will be an unfailing proof of my identity and existence. Something that can prove to anyone beyond a shadow of doubt that an entity called imran exists and is an Indian.But at the moment getting a passport appears for me to be a more distant dream than cultivating paddy on mars. For five years half my decisions in life have been taken with the idea of optimizing the probability of getting myself a passport. My applications have been rejected on all grounds as per law applicable and more. Still I dont see any distant hope of getting one. But it gives my life a pupose, my existence a meaning. Everyday I wake up with a thought that maybe this day will bring me closer to it. It has never happened but the very fact that one day it might drives my life, sustains it, completes it.

The other great ambition in my life is to get back from my college my caution money, a princely sum of 84 rupees and 50 paise. Every time I go home I visit my college with the express purpose of getting the application approved which needs some seven signatures of no-objection. On the last count I had managed four. I hope to get the remaining three before inflation increases the price of four samosas at Sharma Ji's (which is the treat I have promised my freinds in the unlikely event of getting my caution money back) to Rs.85 or more.

Saturday, May 13, 2006

to the memories of IGIDR.........................

Today I dont know how to feel. Two years is a long time for any one but for me the last two have been worth a lifetime. I have felt an entire gamut of emotions in this place but the one that was more common was one of unbelonging and by the time I got over it, it was already the fourth sem. Today I realise that I might have actually enjoyed this place more had I given more time towards understanding it. But regardless it was a wonderful experience with some of the most amazing people that I have met in life. I will miss the one thing that defined IGIDR for me 'people'. Here are somelines that best sum up my feelings today.
मैं नहीं आया तुम्हारे द्वार
पथ ही मुड़ गया था।
गि त ि मिल मैं चल पड़ा
पथ पर कहीं रुकना मना था,
राह अनदेखी, अजाना देश
संगी अनसुना था।
चाँद सूरज की तरह चलता
न जाना रातिदन है,
िकस तरह हम तुम गए िमल
आज भी कहना किठन है,
तन न आया माँगने अिभसार
मन ही जुड़ गया था।
देख मेरे पंख चल, गितमय
लता भी लहलहाई
पत्र आँचल में िछपाए मुख
कली भी मुस्कुराई।
एक क्षण को थम गए डैने
समझ िवश्राम का पल
पर प्रबल संघर्ष बनकर
आ गई आँधी सदलबल।
डाल झूमी, पर न टूटी
िंकतु पंछी उड़ गया था।
Shiv Mangal Singh 'Suman'

कहाँ गया वह स्वर्िगक साकी, कहाँ गयी सुरिभत हाला,
कहँा गया स्वपिनल मिदरालय, कहाँ गया स्वरि्णम प्याला!
पीनेवालों ने मिदरा का मूल्य, हाय, कब पहचाना?
फूट चुका जब मधु का प्याला, टूट चुकी जब मधुशाला।।
Harivansh Rai Bachan

Wednesday, March 29, 2006

Ek kahani aur mili.

Once upon a time there was a philosopher who lived in a village. The village was a farming oriented one and was haunted by parakeets. To counter the menace of the parakeets the farmers used to set up narkul (small thin sticks) traps on the periphery of their farms. These traps consisted of narkuls set up loosely along a rope. As soon as the birds would sit on these narkuls they would slip through the rope and the falling birds in their fright would clutch on to the rope with all that they had until the farmers came and caught them to sell them into captivity. The plight of these poor birds hanging upside down from the farmer’s narkuls deeply disturbed our philosopher. Determined to do something about it he bought all the birds that the farmers caught over a period of time and taught them the following lesson "hum pardar janwar hain, hum shikari ke narkul par kabhi nahin baithenge aur agar baithe to phad-phada ke ud jayenge ( we are winged animals we will never sit on the farmers narkul and even if we do we will simply fly away)". When he was sure that the birds had learnt their lesson well he freed them.
One of the following days as the philosopher was taking a stroll along the farms he came across the familiar sight of parrots hanging upside down on the ropes except the fact that this time some of them were crying at the top of their lungs "hum pardar janwar hain, hum shikari ke narkul par kabhi nahin baithenge aur agar baithe to phad-phada ke ud jayenge". The next day people found the philosopher too hanging from a rope like the birds except the fact that he unlike the birds was not hanging upside down.
I had read this story just when I had started my formal education. As I progressed in life I have come to realise that this story closely mirrors a lot that is wrong with our education system. In the corridors of education I am sure you also at some points of your career would have come across similar parrot cries.

(Based on the story FALSAFI AUR PARINDEY in Hamari Zuban II a textbook for urdu students of standard seventh in UP board. Inspired by the recent Gaurav-Padma dialouge on Gaurav's blog.)