A very “Unindian” Indian

It has been heartwarming to see the rise and rise of Gautam Gambhir. Along with M S Dhoni, he is the one Indian batsman who is secure in the knowledge of his place in the Indian team in all the three formats. On current form, I am sure even Mr. Modi cannot hoodwink him of his place in the side by introducing a fourth (or fifth) format. He will find his place in the team even if the Indian team is asked to play representative baseball.

Yet, this was not always the case. When he made his entry into the team, he looked very diffident to the lay viewer. His susceptibility to anything pitched on or outside the off stump was painfully visible. The ugly prod outside the off stump was pronounced and opening bowlers feasted on his impatience. All that is history now and this is where he is different from almost any Indian cricketer that I have seen, with the possible exception of the magnificent Anil Kumble.

Historically, Indian cricketers arrive on the international scene with a lot of fanfare or are somehow sneaked into the team by selectors wielding their “regional quota” prerogatives. Thankfully, over the years and particularly so since the Sourav-Wright tenure, instances of the latter have come down significantly. What happens subsequently has been the scourge of Indian cricket for some time.

Indian cricketers who arrived with a lot of expectations include Chetan Sharma, Raju Kulkarni (remember him), Maninder Singh, L Sivaramakrishnan, Atul Wassan, W V Raman, Praveen Amre, Sadanand Vishwanath (who cannot remember him), Vivek Razdan, Wasim Jaffer, Mohd. Kaif, and so on. The list is pretty long. In addition to the weight of expectations, what is common to all of them is the almost predictable manner in which their careers have proceeded since their arrival. Without exception, all of them have appeared like a meteor and tragically for Indian cricket, disappeared like one too. We can ascribe various theories including the conspiracy ones to explain their demise, but the fact remains that over the years, in almost every cricketing generation, Indian cricket lost the services of significant talents. An extreme case of this would be Vinod Kambli who shone ever so brightly, albeit for a very short period.

Players like Mohd. Azharuddin and Sanjay Manjrekar fall into broadly the same bucket, in the sense that they did not significantly enhance their reputations during their career. The degrees may vary, but the overall hypothesis remains the same. In the recent past, it is only Dravid, Tendulkar, Sourav. Laxman and Kumble who it can be said safely that enhanced their stature significantly during their playing days. Dravid, Laxman and Tendulkar (if it is possible in the maestro’s case) continue to build on their legend. For the rest, it was almost as if they were the “finished product” even at the time of their international debut and were incapable of subsequent improvements, a trait so important to succeed at the highest level, be it sport or life.

Gambhir’s case has been completely different and in the recent annals of Indian cricket almost unique . As already mentioned, he was hardly noticed by the Indian public when he made his international appearance. He came on the back of strong performances in domestic cricket which, the Indian cricket fan largely chooses to ignore. Yet when he made his debut against Bangladesh, there were no indications of his prowess with the bat. Over the next couple of years, his better performances were largely against minnows like Bangladesh and he was, rightly so, consigned to the backyards of Indian domestic cricket. A very predictable script thus far, a script that has been played out over and over again. Indian cricket fans would have accepted the fading away of Gambhir at this stage from the inernational scene with a sigh and a shrug. But then things changed dramatically, thankfully, for the better. He continued to work on his game with a steely determination that is by and large absent in Indian cricketers. He refused to accept that he was not international class and plotted his comeback. His second coming has been a blessing for a team that has always struggled to put two world class opening batters to kick start the innings. Matters have been helped by the following factors as well.

1. In Sehwag, Gambhir has found the “perfect” partner. The compatibility that comes with having played cricket together for a long time has aided the cementing of this pair’s place in the team. To give Gambhir credit, he has never let himself be blinded by the incandescence of Sehwag’s strokeplay and audacity at the other end. He has chosen to be his own man and by all admissions, has made a fist of it.

2. Gambhir also seems to enjoy the faith that his captain, M S Dhoni, has in him. Dhoni has made him feel secure about his place in the team which is invaluable for a team member. Most players perform their best when they have the confidence of the captain and the rest of the team behind them.

3. The fall in the quality of fast bowling over the last few years. Let us face it, with the retirement of Donald, McGrath, Shaun Pollock, and the absence of bowlers like Shane Bond and Shoaib Akthar for various reasons, life of batsmen in general and opening batsmen in particular has become simpler. It is to the credit of Gambhir that he has made full toll of the situation presented to him.

Over the last couple of years, Gambhir has shown enough indication of emerging as the best “pureplay” opener that India has produced since Sunny Gavaskar. He has been the one Indian cricketer who With age on his side and with Sehwag for a partner at the other end, let us wish him all the very best in playing out his potential.

And quiet flows Sachin

It is 2:30 in the afternoon and I am still not able to lift myself to do anything worthwhile. It has been one of those days. It would be simple to classify the feeling as monday morning blues. Unfortunately, that term has no real significance to the life I am leading.

It is at times like this that I go back and think of the life that sportsmen lead these days. To motivate oneself to go through the grind of travel and the monotony of playing the sport that one used to enjoy at some point must really take some doing. Can the money that they earn compensate for the rigidity and inflexbility of modern sport. It is again very simplistic to assume so. It may explain the motivation of some of the journeymen sportsmen. But that of a top notch performer like Federer, Woods or Tendulkar. Hardly.

The media has once again gone overboard in celebrating Tendulkar’s 20th anniversary of international cricket. Most of the articles are more like a narration of his journey over the last couple of decades and some have had long interviews with Sachin himself. Beyond Sachin himself revealing that it is the love for the game and the pride that he takes in representing the country which has made him carry on for so long, there is nothing much more that explains his long innings. Maybe it is not for us plebians to understand such phenomenon. Yet that does not stop us from trying.

Could it be that people who appreciate their shelf life on this planet consign everything else, but the joy of living out their dreams on a given day (which in the case of sports performers is every day), to the back of their minds and carry on with their lives. After all, most sportsmen do understand that their days under the sun are limited to a few years or a decade at the most and are keen to make the most of it as long as it lasts. Particularly in terms of maximising their potential. In terms of performance. What happens in the case of lesser mortals when we come to appreciate our own mortality is very different till such time that this appreciation sinks in. Maybe these chaps understand this much better than most of us.

Or could it be the paranoia of not knowing how the world would treat them in case they stopped plying their craft. McEnroe refers to this in his “Serious”. The fact that most of the tennis players live in oyster, especially during their heydays blindsides them to the “real world”, so much so, that they continue well past their prime wondering how they would survive if they stepped out of this cocoon. What would Sachin, for instance, do once he quits the game. I am not sure that some of the conventional choices that exist for ordinary cricketers (ie everyone other than him) are not applicable to him at all, either because of the sheer enormity of his stature or his lesser capability than the rest in assuming these roles (yes, there are areas outside of the cricket field where Sachin’s records on the field will not count for much). I cannot think of Sachin, for one, getting into cricket administration. Too small a playing field for him and he has not shown the same felicity in getting people to go along with him as, for instance, a Sourav. He is also not going to fit very well into the commentary box. A coach, forget it. All one needs to do is to rewind back to Kapil’s stint as the Indian coach. It is almost like Ramanujam being asked to teach in a college. Very rarely have genius and tutoring been good bedfellows. When it comes to successful coaches, history has time and again shown that it is the mediocre or the average player who has come up trumps as a team coach. Their ability to understand the minds of lesser players (relatively that is) and help them exorcise their ghosts is so much more critical than technical knowledge. So, could it be for this reason that he is unwilling to hang up his boots. By no means am I suggesting or implying that he should be.

Or could it even be the nagging fear that in a team game, irrespective of everything else, history will measure a player in the context of his team’s achievements that keeps spurring him on. How many, with the possible exception of Liverpool supporters, remember Ian Rush. Maybe the fact that he has not been part of an Indian world cup winning team ?. Especially since over the last decade India has always gone into a World Cup with a team which, on paper, was capable of going the distance. Sachin himself has alluded to this a few times. If that is at least part of the reason for him continuing to embellish the game, we can breathe easy till calendar 2011, comfortable in the knowledge that he will continue for at least another 2 years.

Whatever the reasons maybe, I, like millions around the world, am grateful that Sachin continues to carry on. It is just that I would like to understand what is it that motivates him to wake up on a Sunday morning at 5 AM and set out to practice with the rest of his teammates, be it those from India Indians or Mumbai Indians. Carry on, Sachin and let the rest of us wonder.

Snake encounters

I have never been much of a wildlife person. Preferred “being wild” to “in the wild”. Over the years, there have been the odd trips here and there with friends who have a deeper appreciation for the wild and her denizens. Without exception all these trips have been memorable and yet I remain unconverted. I have never bothered figuring out why this was the case and I am not going to do so now. So please continue reading the post without fear of being subjected to psycho babbling.

The last few months, since my move to Goa, I have had practical, real world, on the ground reasons for taking more than a cursory look at the world around me. To begin with, the place around Arco Iris is beautiful and the visual beauty will not escape even a blind man. More relevantly, Curtorim is a fairly heavily wooded area. It is natural that it has a far degree of wildlife presence in the form of birds, reptiles and a handful of mammals (not the big cat variety though, more like jackals and mongoose). The mammals, by and large, keep to themselves. You can spot the neighbourhood mongoose, friendly guy that he is, on a lucky day and the jackals make it a point to come as a pack almost every other night to Arco, do the ceremonial symphony and slink away. The birds, in and around the property are beautiful. Again, not much of a birder myself, but fortunately, been in the company of friends who are interested in avifauna. Thanks to them, I know that you can sight babblers, robin magpies, common kingfishers, whistling ducks, egrets, cormorants, the white heron, Indian owls and so on within a 500 metre radius of Arco. Since the property abuts the Corjim lake, I am told by local birders that one can spot upto 40 bird species within a 1 km radius. I guess, I have digressed. The point is the birds are beautiful and with the exception of the odd bat that manages to find its way inside the house, they largely go unnoticed by me.

The reptiles are a different kettle of fish altogether (nice turn of phrase, even though I am saying it myself) . I am pretty much petrified of them, snakes in particular. Unfortunately for me, over the last few months, we have had a couple of visits from them. Fortunately for us, we had picked up a list of snake rescuers with their mobile numbers (a lot of them volunteers) available in Goa and it was post a frantic call triggered by a snake deciding to drop by that we had a very friendly Forest Department official coming to rescue the bugger. He had a cup of tea with us and in true Goan fashion managed to find a link in his family tree to Beni’s. Brief though the interaction was, I realised that he sincerely enjoyed what he was doing for a living. He called us this morning to find out if we would be interested in accompanying him to Karmel ghat and witnessing the release of a few pythons, vipers and a cobra that he had rescued the last week. Yes, he had rescued about 8 pythons in the last week alone in just South Goa!!. I found the numbers unbelievable, but he reassured me that these numbers were par for an average week. This was too good an opportunity even for an agnost like me and I promptly rushed to join him.

In the Forest Department Office’s parking lot in Margao, I was mightily impressed with the grace, strength, sensitivity and dexterity of the officer as he transferred these giant snakes from their cages to the sacks which would be their transit homes till their release a few minutes later. He ensured that the cobra and the vipers would have sufficient moisture around their sacks to survive the trip back home. Being aware of the contents in the sack, I drove a respectful distance behind his Forest Department truck to Karmel ghat where he was releasing the snakes. Karmel ghat is about 25 kms from Arco (not far enough for me considering that they are used regularly by the FD for releasing rescued snakes) and it took us about 40 minutes to reach the place. Once there we parked our respective vehicles by the side of NH 17 and he unloaded the 5 sacks and proceeded to take them one by one to the insides of the forest. Again, I followed in awe struck silence. He started by releasing the pythons one by one. In the wild, they looked even more magnificent. Silent so far, they started hissing ( I took it as their excitement to be back in their rightful places) and proceeded to find their way here and there. Their on ground speed took me by surprise. This coupled with their massive size made for an amazing sight. A couple of them snaked their way up trees and decided to have an afternoon siesta. It also, to an extent, explaines why wildlife enthusiasts go to extreme lengths to spot animals in the wild as opposed to seeing them inside zoos. At the same time, it was sad to see a couple of empty plastic bottle containers even this deep into the forest. I am no angel myself when it comes to such issues, but the line has to be drawn somewhere.

The officer left the vipers and the cobra for last. For my benefit, the officer added that the viper was a Russell Viper. I am not sure if I have the spelling right. He (ie Mr. Viper) made very impressive noises and slithered away and quickly made himself invisible (at least to my untrained eyes). I guess the officer saved the best for last when he released the cobra. Looks ordinary enough except when he spreads (is that the word for it) his hood. Manages to look elegant, graceful and fierce at the same time. Much like a Lara cover drive. In the middle of all this, I did manage to take a couple of photographs. Again, given my indifference to photography (at least in this case I have some philosophical underpinnings for the indifference), I am not sure they will do justice to the spectacle that unfolded this morning in front of me.

Before deciding to join the Forest Department official on the trip I had checked with him if it was within the rules of the department to let citizens witness these weekly episodes and he replied saying that it was one of the better ways of creating awareness amongst people about the need to be sympathetic to the requirements of these creatures. I cannot agree more. During the course of this trip, I realised that there are by and large only four venomous snakes in and around Goa and most of the chappies that we see slithering here and there are by and large harmless. Not that it converted me to a snake lover, but at least it helped me start the process of understanding them to a certain extent. A final word on the commitment of these officers and volunteers. Based on the couple of experiences that I have had with them, they are a wonderfully committed and passionate bunch of guys. They are rendering yeoman service to society without so much as even an acknowledgement. The least I could do was offer them the use of Arco Iris for conducting an awareness programme on snakes for the interested residents of Curtorim.

The Fan

I have often wondered about the DNA of the sports fan. Especially in the Indian context. In a country that is starved of a serious sporting culture, being a fan of any sport or sportsman is the closest to attaining sporting nirvana. Notwithstanding the sporadic successes of Indians of late, this is, unfortunately, still the case.

The advent of satellite television has changed things, especially in urban and suburban India. The ability to identify with sporting icons, be it in team or individual sport, has outgrown the narrow confines of national boundaries. Whilst this was always the case, their prevalence and pervasiveness, thanks to the explosion in the media industry, particularly television, is wider and deeper now. In India, with its predominantly young population yearning for sporting success stories to identify and associate with, the absence of national sporting icons worthy of “loyalty allocation”, means that we are a nation of the “undiluted television sporting fan”. I would define a UTSF as anyone with access to view the best of sporting action happening anywhere in the world but who, for a variety of reasons, not the least being his unwillingness to distance himself from the comforts of his arm chair, has precious little working knowledge of the sport that his icon, be it a team or individual is engaged in. Typically, children grow to like a sport by playing it. And they play it by watching older people play in the neighbourhood. This is how I learnt to play cricket and soccer. Physical accessibility to the sport was crucial in defining my interests. My first love was playing cricket and once my eyes were opened to the joys of television, over a very short period of time, Sunil Gavaskar became my favorite cricketer. At least in my case it was not a case of the tail wagging the dog. However irreverent it may sound, and ignoring the perverseness of the underlying logic in the statement, I idolised Gavaskar because I thought he played like I would or I did. And to this day, Gavaskar remains my favorite sportsman, cutting across all sports and generations. Once cricket won my heart over, soccer became the casualty. Much as I would like to say that cricket’s gain was soccer’s loss, subsequent events would belie that statement. But this has never come in the way of my contention that with a little more encouragement (and a lot more ability, which I refuse to disclose), I would have been the Indian Paul Collingwood. However, in my case, what this translated into was an abiding love for these two sports, as opposed to the purveyors of the sport, much more ingrained and a lot less fickle than my allegiance to other sports. Inevitably, in the intervening period cricketers and footballers have come and gone. At various points I had to choose between Zico and Maradona, Socrates and Rummenigge, Rush and Rossi, Sachin and Lara, Mark and Steve Waugh, Warne and Kumble and so on. But the overarching allegiance was to the sport. However cliched it may sound to the rest of the world.

On the other end of the spectrum, I enjoyed watching tennis on television primarily because I enjoyed watching McEnroe. For me, at an impressionable age, tennis WAS McEnroe. I, inexplicably, chose to favor McEnroe over Borg (curious isn’t it, given that Borg was more in the Gavaskar mould). To me, tennis stopped with the retirement of Mac. I did flirt occasionally with the Agassis, Ivanisevics and Brugueras, but it was just not the same. To some extent, Federer, thanks to his pervasiveness, has come to occupy a special place. But to usurp Mac’s place in my pantheon, not even close. To this days, I have not set foot inside a tennis court. Maybe that partially explains the obsession with the players as opposed to the sport itself. Similar was the fate of F1 motorpsort. Being part of a generation that grew up reading (not viewing) Senna’s exploits at the wheel and his legendary rivalry with Prost, the idol equated to the sport. Again, Hakkinen threatened momentarily, especially the way in which he stood up to Schumacher, but it was altogether much too brief to leave any lasting impression.

To put things in perspective, I have to explain the case of my father-in-law’s obsession with, of all things, Indian football. True Goan that he is, he has a genetic predisposition towards soccer. This is understandable. But what makes it weird is his obsession with Indian football. In my own case, once having tasted the elixir of world football, thanks to Brain Glanville and the Sportstar, the affair with Indian soccer was terminated abruptly and decisively. In his case, the affliction with Indian soccer is chronic. To the extent that he refuses to have a Tata Sky connection in his house because they do not offer Z Sports in their bouquet. To this day, he follows the fortunes of Salgaocar, Vasco and Dempo. Although he has never explicitly mentioned this to me, I have a feeling that he considers Churchill Bros to be some kind of upstarts, given their lack of tradition and history. He tries his best to catch live action on the ground whenever possible. No one in the family would have held a grudge against him for that, but for his insistence in analysing ad nauseum the relative performance of the team for the benefit of the few unfortunate enough to be around him on his return from the ground. The unintended consequence of this has been my mother-in-law developing an intense loathing for Indian soccer. Not for my father-in-law, the glitz and glamor of the EPL or the Serie A. The concept of sport as a spectacle does not move him. At best, he may condescend to watch the World Cup Soccer Semi-Finals and Finals.

Is it any wonder that I am left wondering about the DNA of the Sports Fan.

5 month reckoner

It is now 5 months since our move from Bangalore to Goa. Besides the obvious urge to spend some part of our lives away from the hustle and bustle of urban India, the prime objective for us in setting up Arco Iris as a homestay was to experience first hand and subsequently make available local experiences which reflect the culture and heritage of “rural” India in general and Goa in particular to the world at large. In the particular case of Goa, we wanted to explore life beyond the touristy stereotype of sun, sand, beaches and feni.

During this period, “discovery” of the life around us has been exhilarating and we are excited at the possibility of sharing this with our friends and guests. As you can well imagine, this is a continuous process of discovery which has just about commenced and will continue to unfurl as we move along. It is still, thankfully, some way from being a finished product in that sense. Our explorations have led us, for instance, to:

1. the almost 400 years old Rachol Seminary, one of the oldest in Asia and just about 8 kms from Arco Iris. There are currently about 70 odd seminarians along with the administrative staff and faculty housed in the seminary. During the visit you will have an opportunity to meet and interact with seminarians and understand their journey from a seminarian to a priest. The building itself is rich in history, having being owned by Muslim and Hindu kings in the past. The well stocked library, which is open for the public to browse, has an extensive collection of books on philosophy and theology ;

2. a boat ride across the Zuari with a local “Gondolier” !!. The Zuari can be reached by walking about a km from Arco and since there are a couple of fishermen resident there, one can go on a leisurely boat ride with them ;

3. a birding trip with a local naturalist and birder to the Maina, Curtorim and Corjem (which Arco overlooks) lakes. If you are lucky, you will spot species endemic to this region ;

4. a visit to and lunch at the Palacio de Deao (about 10kms) or Figueredo mansion (about 15 kms). The Palacio is a 225 years old palace in Quepem and the 400 years old Figueredo mansion is home to two charming Goan ladies who relish the opportunity of talking to guests who drop in for tea or have the lavish lunch that they serve ;

5. a heritage walk in Chandor followed by a visit to the 4 centuries old Braganza Mansion. Incidentally the Fernandes house is an Archaelogical Survey of India excavation site. The chapel in Chandor is the only church I know of where once a year during the carnival period (February or March) the Catholic priest performs a “puja” dressed like a Hindu priest ;

6. the bakery which prides itself on being the preferred supplier to the Rachol Seminary for the last few decades. To this day, they use a wood fired oven for the baking process. You will be encouraged to try your hand at making delicious Goan “pao” for your dinner ;

7. a chance meeting with the venerable Mr. Mathew Fernandez, a retired lecturer, now teaching Portuguese to whoever is interested.

Other possibilities include visit to a prawn hatchery, witnessing the process of restoring antique furniture and picking up a few restored pieces, viewing a second division football match at the local grounds, visiting local artisan and skilled workers like weavers, potters and toddy tappers at work. There is also the stretch of beach from Benaulim right to Karwar and further which is relatively unspoilt and waiting to be experienced. Right through this period what has been remarkable has been experiencing the welcoming friendliness of the local citizens.

Ponda is just about 25 kms from Arco and this means that almost all the wildlife sanctuaries in the state can be reached within 90 minutes. This is something that we are very keen to experience at the earliest.