F1 India not on track?

The latest news doing rounds is that the Sports ministry has rejected the 'Basic idea' of the Indian Grand Prix in '11. Mr Gill, ( Not to be confused with Gill, the former president of IHF:P)
has said that Formula One is not a sport. Apparently, F1 is just 'expensive entertainment', as opposed to our National Game Hockey. Not like we're doing any good at it. With the so called 'revival' and all, things may change.
Coming back, seriously? Not a sport. So the battering of 4 plus G's that the drivers experience as well as the very simple 'matter' of staying fit enough to drive those cars (Rather Machines) doesn't qualify? I don't know what does. The truth of the matter is that it is the most expensive sport there is.

Here's a definition for cricket: 'You have two sides, one out in the field and one in. Each man that's in the side that's in goes out, and when he's out he comes in and the next man goes in until he's out. When they are all out, the side that's out comes in and the side that's been in goes out and tries to get those coming in, out. Sometimes you get men still in and not out.
When a man goes out to go in, the men who are out try to get him out, and when he is out he goes in and the next man in goes out and goes in. There are two men called umpires who stay all out all the time and they decide when the men who are in are out. When both sides have been in and all the men have out, and both sides have been out twice after all the men have been in, including those who are not out, that is the end of the game!' Does this even make sense?
So much for T20 and the IPL. Cricket is a religion, and F1 soon will be too!
I don't see how anyone stands to lose out on money. So what's the problem.
Will someone pay Gill his Bill? :)
Maybe Dr Mallya will.

There are four people in the xerox shop doing the work that one is capable of handling. They work only when there is power, which is obvious. Power is a rarity these days. 'Unscheduled' load shedding the Electricity board say with such indifference. Sometimes, their phone isn't answered because the line is dead. From the looks of things, communication is impossible between 'concerned' electricity officials and the telephone exchange.
Next door is a 'paan' shop, where beedis are bought in large numbers. They're smoked like there's no tomorrow. There are wine shops on both sides of the road. Late in the night, after a "Hard" day's work, many a person can be seen drinking OMR outside these shops, and those who can't afford it settle for hooch. Soon they're so sloshed that most of them call it a day and settle into bed, which consists of the thin asphalt of the road. The beat police turn up later, and give them a few whacks. Meanwhile, their spouses are waiting at home, waiting for the money called 'salary' to pay for their kids' 'Government school' primary education. Those below the poverty line, don't even know what an education is, or can do.
The rain gods have failed farmers once again. They fail to reap any produce. Those that do, travel long distances to sell. Often they are disappointed with the prices, and so all is in vain. Tomatoes and onions are dumped in yards. Protests are held. Effigies are burnt.
A few Farmers commit suicide, unable to bear the 'burden' of supporting their families. Compensation is announced for the dead, as if to say his/her life can be equated to money.
Government jobs provide security in these turbulent times. An influential politician's son is promoted, where as the profile of an Civil services' officer, who has come up the hard way, with support from NGO's for his education and coaching, is shown the door.
The 'Assistant commissioner' of the divisional Corporation office, as he calls himself, has a few more assistants working under him. No one under him can question his authority. The irony is, he himself is an assistant to someone:p.
There is a H.P petrol bunk, one of many, that supposedly offers services through the night. Pay a visit after 11, and one will inadvertently find that those 'servicing' vehicles are snoring away. One Petrol bunk needs about ten people to run it. A separate guy to collect the cash.
The Urban Rural divide is unfathomable. Next door to the Radisson hotel under construction, one will find an 'un-official' vegetable market.
'Soil picking' is a proffesion. Child labour is payrolled. Children resort to sniffing Erazex for kicks.
A girl child is sold to a richer person, simply because she is a girl who cannot carry forward the 'family name'. It's atrocious to be associated with such a family.
Some would say it isn't, because IGNORANCE is bliss. Some faiths believe that a kid born is God's will. So they will continue to have children, until God decides they can't. Science is irrelevant in the simplest of issues.
Money equations are in, Truth and non violence was out long back. Gandhi took it with him to the grave.
Our population is our biggest strength. Sure, publish it in journals, magazines, papers. It is our biggest weakness. Democratic movement or not, who cares?
I'm just like any other Indian, voicing my concerns. I still am patriotic at heart.
But really, ask yourselves, Did India really gain independance on 15th August 1947?

Of casteism, power and lateral thinking!

Casteism- Discrimination and what not. We've seen or heard of it in the Ancient Greek society, the medieval ages, and in lands far and wide. In India, we've been discriminating human beings for several centuries now. Even to this day, a scholar is more respected than a daily wage worker. A man with money, power, or fame is a "Bhai". He is almost worshipped.
Even a politician, an M.P for instance, has luxury written all over him. The common man elects him for a purpose, yet he misuses his powers. He flies in Business class, like there's no tomorrow, Uses money like he actually made it, He is the real untouchable literally...
Who decided that a "Shudra" should pick up soil (i don't fancy using shit here!), while the Brahmins should stay away and ridicule him. The poor man committed a crime. He was born into what he now does, and this cannot be changed. Who is to judge whether or not this soil and rag picker, can actually live a life in the midst of his superiors, without being ridiculed just because his parents and grandparents were tagged with Inferiority. But this is how society has grown, it is merely a farce now. His parents were ridiculed, and so will he. For he doesn't have power to ask questions.
I say it's all in the mind.
One fine day, a man with power raised questions. And so, now these outcasts have rights. They can ask the very questions that a man with power can. This "power" manifests itself in the form of reservation. However unfair it may seem to me (being a Brahmin and all), i cannot do anything about it. I don't have the power. Sure i may argue that Arjun Singh is a retard and stuff, and that reservation is absurd an idea, for i believe that Our Country is secular. It was written in the darn constitution.
One thing i don't understand is why students falling under reservation, get 'discount' in college fees in our University. It is so absurd. It's not like they're still ridiculed even now, that they deserve special treatment just because their ancestors were downtrodden.
In that case, Why don't Jews have a free Israel, solely because their ancestors were slaughtered in concentration camps. It just doesn't work that way.
Ultimately, it all comes down to your status in society. If one has power, he can solicit an outcry.
Society has never been bound by restrictions. It has always circled around Money. If one has Money and Power, he can change history.
This kind of Horizontal thinking may be vertical thinking to someone else, and vice versa. If one can think laterally, and start asking questions, maybe the whole outlook may change. I'm saying maybe...
For now, society is what you think it to be. That's all there is to it.

Low

Yes, this is the time for an " I'm feeling low " blog. Three years of engineering life and out come the questions. Where is my life heading, What are my options, What are the paths. My mind is full of question marks that will not be processed for a while. One thing is for sure, it took me three fruitless years to realise that I'm up to no good. There is always one nagging question- Have i realised my potential , or how far am i from realising it.
It all started a few hours ago. I've learnt from trial and error not to have any regrets about anything. But every dog has its day, so they say...
The only regret i had till date was not realising my genius in 12th. I had two options then- Prepare for my boards and k-cet, or hit the jackpot by slogging it out for IIT. Apparently, i took the wrong option. And not a day goes by where i don't regret or ponder. What if , is a very dicey question. We can't help but laugh off our parents constant rambling about the opportunities we have now. It really is painful knowing they're always right. The World really is a funny place. One day , you're just whistling to yourself , enjoying the wind playing with your hairs. Next thing you know , you're being realistic! It hurts. Knowing that you could've have done more. What good is it to hope for a time machine;).
How is one to strike a compromise with the person you really are and the person you so wish you were. We are light years away. Damage control is our only go. The things i want to do now.
Wishing for once that my engineering life was over and i got a taste of practicality , a grasp on the outside world. The World really is a competitive place. I don't want to be the guy stuck in the middle of the rung , knowing (or regretting) that i might as well have been on top. The things i give significance to ,such as the time in my adolescent years where i had O.C.D , or how i couldn't be a "cool" guy. I still give significance to the most insigificant things. And now when i'm left to ponder over the "significant" decisions i made over the course of my life , i'm so very helpless.
Which brings me to this- One always relates to good music. A good tune strikes a vibe. It really is fascinating how we grow from appreciating the Backstreet Boys , then loathing them , and moving onto stuff like eminem , Bryan Adams , and then concluding that Floyd is God. I'm making this point because music has so much to do with our "identity" , much more than we give it credit for. Sure , we have phases of apprecition for other genres (in my case bluegrass country), but we don't stop experimenting for we haven't found our identity. Also worth a mention is Iron Maiden , for what they're actually saying is Go On, do your thing , and we just go aaaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhh. But this is not my identity. I'm still in the process of discovering it. The ingrediant adding spice in an unduly manner is Uncertainity. I don't want to be the one to ever have regrets , or ever ponder about how i never realised my true genius. And i don't want to be the jack of all trades. I want to be the master of one.
If only we were certain. If only.
P:S- I can't put all of it in words:P

The sinking ship

'The dastardly terror attacks that took place in Mumbai last night and today leading to the loss of many precious lives and injuries to many others have deeply shocked the nation. I strongly condemn these acts of senseless violence against innocent people, including guests from foreign countries.'- Manmohan Singh

What would a bureaucrat say that hasn't been already said. Mumbai, the Greatest Indian city has been a mute witness to previous attacks. Mumbaikars have always found courage and pride post a terror attack to get back on their feet and steady themselves. The Phoenix has always risen from the ashes. This latest attack, however is quite different for a number of reasons per Se.

This time, the Corporate face of India has been hit badly. The Taj Hotel, a century old in fires. When would one have pictured such a situation. This is a direct hit on a Country whose face value is often synonymous with growth, power and urban development. One with many phases and faces. One with dreams. One with an unimaginable urban rural divide. One where realities hit hard.

Over 150 dead. Mr Patil seemed so indifferent again. He's more concerned about his frigging looks. One expects a leader to show emotions. Yet his voice was so monotonous, lacking urgency. Money was promised again. A poor little taxi driver lost 7 of his family members. What kind of hope would keep him going? What will he do with the money. It will never get his kin back. He will never get rid of the guilt, even though he's guilty of nothing. Blame he will take for being in the wrong place at the wrong time. Justice is such an ambiguous term. It surely won't be delivered soon. There is no political will to say that this wouldn't happen again. The bureaucrats would be thinking- 'aaj ki maal nahi mili'. The political forces unified just in front of the camera.

Common man cannot even vent his anger. If one makes derogatory comments, he is quickly apprehended. This blogging portal isn't safe either. The Mumbaikar couldn't even watch t.v as it was blank. No source of information on the attacks. The fear and the anger all magnified by frightening proportions. Must we get used to this Orwellian environment, with Big Brother watching us, rather than the damn militants? They came, they saw and fired. And our intelligence was sitting on its backside and sipping ice candy!!! We better get used to this soon.
But in all this chaos, i see hope. Hope for "change" (as Obama puts it). The vital ingredients for such a change being, next time, a few vvips lying in a pool of blood. This collage of images will be etched on my mind forever. Hope, my friend, is a dicey emotion! Jai Hind!

P:S- A ship with many innocents is sinking fast. An s.o.s call was sounded ages ago. Will we respond? Perhaps one of the innocents is a protege of a bureaucrat.

Oppenheimer's guilt

The 'Aryans' tirade against the Jews and their ideology that they were an inferior race was probably the most cruel excuse that they could use as an excuse for merciless killing.
Perhaps it all had to do with Hitler's stature, his oratory skills, his drilling of shitty ideas and delusions into common man. All the Germans really wanted was some kind of revolution, one that would sweep them off their feet. One that they would be proud of.
Instead all they got was a totalitarian environment, where culture and art were virtual terms, one where they were drilled with anti-Semitic ethics, one where, at the behest of Adolf Hitler, they would ultimately feel guilt. Guilt for indirectly being responsible for the death of millions. Guilt so immense that one would not speak about Nazi atrocities to his innocent children. Guilt that would finally be passed on and on till the spell of doom.
World War 2 was again an excuse for killing shit loads. What is appalling was the sheer scale of the war.The "i don't give a rats ass" attitude of those responsible for death. How death was relative and so was loss. Soldiers were forgotten warriors in this lost cause. Oppenheimer removed all the uncertainty when he made the atomic bomb. He made certain an impending doom. A doom in which, ironically, mothers would finally not have to worry if their sons were coming back home. When D-day did finally come, Robert glimpsed success, through the end of this mess. A success which actually was a parody of failures. For on that dreadful day, he signed the official papers of everything "nuclear", the papers of fear knocking on the back door, the papers of a nuclear surge and wipe out, the papers where eventually, the doomsday clock would strike 12:00. The papers that can never be burnt...
P:S- some iron maiden:)
Bombers launched with no recall
Minute warning of the missile fall
Take a look at your last day
Guessing you won't have the time to cry

Out of the the universe, a strange light was born
Unholy union, trinity reformed

Curiosity kills the...child

The terrorists have struck... again. As blatantly as humanely possible. But they've made their point. First Bangalore- they say that was just a dry run. Then the blasts in Jaipur and Ahmedabad taking many lives.
The latest strike was one that hit mehraulli in Delhi, although it didn't take many people with it ( That's the only consolation we get). One dead and about 20 injured said the official press release.. Just one person, the government would be thinking. That's the value of Human life. They quickly announce a lakh or two as compensation for the family of the deceased. They promise jobs. They make promises.
Statements are made. - The security is being reviewed.. please maintain calm and peace. We are doing all we can to get the situation under control. The culprits will be soon apprehended.
That is all to it. We must find comfort in these statements. Statements that are just said as a matter of fact.Statements that don't mean anything.
Questions are fired at the bureaucrats... They are answered plainly and flatly. The conference is wrapped up. The media have their share of debates... The BJP blame the UPA. They ask for the resignation of the P.M and the Home minister. Blame games start. The Home minister changes his attire 3 times and addresses the media. People say He's more concerned about his looks.
They're fighting fire with fire.
All this, when in some dark corner, the little victim's parents are crying unconsoled. For only they know what they've lost and the cost of it. For only they know the real feeling of loss. No one can measure such a bereavement. The only justice that may nullify their sorrows is that the terrorists are caught and hung. But we know very well their fate.
Afzal is still living. The terrorists will live too.
This is the price an innocent child had to pay for picking what he thought was a dropped parcel.
Innocence-that's all there is to it. His genious can never be realised. His parents will mourn his loss forever... The sun rises again... The little boy is forgotten... We continue to live our lives not knowing who will go next... Living with the fear that God may take us any moment. Life is cheap...Isn't it?

Being content

I've done quite a few things that I'm proud of. Yet, always, for me, happiness is something i keep deriving different meanings from. Hell i do feel good about myself sometimes, but nothing that i ever do gives me a kind of gratification that will keep me going for ever. (this is hard to put in words).
Yes i do have good memories from my past. My first PlayStation, and how i would never leave it's side. How I'd do absolutely anything to convince my dad to shell some cash for a new game. Or how I'd beg him to buy me a new board game for my birthday. And how much I'd yearn for the burger at Mc-Donalds ( i had the privilege of eating one every Friday back then:P) Then of course the stay overs. And how i would talk all night, play those silly kiddo games, scare ourselves to death with em ghost stories, have the liberty to get up late, skip those pain-staking sessions of omelet eating or oat-meal(yuck)(some i remember lasting an hour an a half:D), this of-course possible cause we threw some of it in the dustbin. How we'd ride our cycles in the evening, enjoying the cool breeze and sometimes the rain, whilst our mothers sat home and drank their teas in silence. And now, when i look back on how elated i was in the 'early days', a chilling thought dawns hard on me.... All this isn't a lasting experience. Happy experiences though they may be, and although I've been content with life sometimes, as one knows, the mind does wonder.....
My first PlayStation is at home, albeit covered in a layer of dust and cobwebs. The board games are too childish, it's just not fun anymore. A burger at mc-donalds is a rarity ( yearning i still do), stay overs we do have, although not as exciting as before. Some of my nights are spent wondering what this lesson on life really is about. Trying to define aptly the feeling of "being content" with myself, or what more should be done to come close to this...
I see lots of success around me, people who've done things that even the devil would be proud of.
I study this vtu course ( nil in the practicality department ) and often wonder where it's going to lead me. I know for sure it's not someplace I'll be "content". So then what am i doing this for?. It's that smile on my parents face when i tell them my result. ' amma result bantu-fcd and this smile with an acknowledgement'. So should i be content with myself now that i see that my parents are.? Is my being a millionaire going to be enough?.
Who's going to judge me and say- You've been a good person. You've done it all. Are these magical words contentment.
Bruce Dickinson of the iron maiden fame is a trained opera singer, a lovely writer, hell he flies planes, was selected for the British Olympic team, has his own show on BBC, and moreover has sold more than 80 million albums with maiden, has ownage when they play. Yet He says he isn't content. If all this isn't ravishing, then what is? what is?
Will the day ever come when i sit my grandchildren down for a chat and tell them---your old man did this---your old man did that, with them staring back in awe. Then I'll finally know for sure that i did what i was sent out to do. Only then will i have this solace that god can take me away. Do you agree?

P:S- How can i intimate all this to my most intimate friend.... The heart;)

Reality bites

There are times such as now, where i'm sure many guys are going through the 'phase' that so affliates itself with me these days. Exactly what this phase is, is very hard to put in words, but will try so here goes. For a while now, i've been engulfed with this "thing" that fills me to the brim. ( i'm using "thing" cause i can't think of a stronger word) The "thing"connotes itself with a distortionless sine wave. ( can't help i study this shit all day). An up followed by a down. This is an example of how a normal day would go for me.

(Reality)- I take the same route to college, ride the same vehicle at a constant speed,stop at the same traffic signals, occasionaly catch a glimpse of a beauty (oh ya this is an upside), then rush to class asap with the prospect of getting a spot on the last bench. Then stand up as the teachers enter and leave, faking regard and respect. Then pretend to listen to their pointless lectures all the while staring in interim at the watch!! Then get really pissed when the bugger leaves without taking attendance. Then wonder why i even attended. Then catch a glimpse of the cute girl who's been driving me nuts for months. Picture myself finally asking her out ( i'm clearly daydreaming:D). Lunch in the same old canteen. Back to class, back out.
Same vehicle,same route, same traffic signals,back home. I've retraced my path.
I'm not complaining about the lack of variations. It's just that i don't do shit about it. My day could've easily been like......
(castle in the air:P)- For a change, i could go late to college, bunk a few classes to catch a movie, skip the traffic signals;), show the finger to the cop on duty busy digging his nose, zoom in at high speeds, hit the brakes hard. swerve in traffic, smile and wink at the beauty, then go to class late, actually don't give a shit and sit in the first bench, or bunk and tell my friend-macha proxy!!
Go to a fancy restaurant for lunch, sit side by side with the cutie whom i just asked out, make her pay the bill:p , then get her number and actually make use of my stupid messaging plan.

The thing is, "things" don't work this way for moi. If i wanted to build the castle in the air, i would've done it long ago. That's why there's a clear demarcation between reality and the castle.:P There are some lessons in life which i just don't get. The heart says build the castle but the mind condemns the idea. The mind makes all my moves.
I know that i can decide my destiny and make the necessary changes, but i don't know how and when to start. The outcome isn't important, it's the passage i'm worried about. I hate this yin-yang angle to everything. Everything has to be weighed. It's pure madness!
The alchemist presents a clear cut message. It tells people to follow their dreams. Thing is- my dreams are cloudy.:)