Holiday

I'm on holiday in my beloved hometown of Pune. So forgive the irregularity of posts. Needless to say, holidays provide plenty of blog fodder, but never the impetus to get to a computer and write. So, despite the bohemian indulgence that every Pune holiday turns out to be for me, I am here writing. A nice measure of how this blog has really grown on me. What’s the first thing that I would like to share about this holiday... that a hometown makes a homeboy feel like a rockstar. That, and I have rediscovered the joy of walking. Seriously.

The Truth

Is it worth telling the truth? It is. Only to the one telling. Because, if you have reached the point where you’re asking that question, you’ve hidden some stuff that the receiver of your truth is not going be gung ho about. In fact, your relationship with that person is about to go through its trial of fire. It’s unlikely the person will appreciate the truth, though your telling of it may put you in line for shmuck of the year award. The person who benefits most is you. Not telling the truth is a burden not worth bearing.

Smoking

Smoking kills my day. It slows me down, makes me groggy and not want to do anything, other than sleep, drink and watch TV. I generally avoid having my first cigarette for as long as is possible. That is generally until 5-6 in the evening.
And then there are these people I know for whom smoking is a kick-starter. And I’m always amazed. If I had a ciggie as soon as I woke up, I wouldn’t even make it to the dining table for breakfast… three hours later. Why then is smoking so hard to even consider giving up?

Anonymous, disclaimer

I read the previous post after a break for a few days and see that it could come across as vain. After all, how many people really know me to give a flying frig about who I am and what I write. Nevertheless, treat this as a disclaimer. But, I must add, a certain amount of pride and ego is necessary to be creative. In fact, true humility is when a person takes pride in who s/he is and what s/he is capable of. So while I may not be as famous as George Clooney, yet, keep me anonymous.

Anonymous, request

The idea of using a pseudonym to write this site was to remain anonymous. Primarily, to give readers the chance to read without the bias of knowing who I was. However, initially, for fear that nobody would even read the site, I told some folks that it was me. Now that I seem to average about 12 posts a month and four readers a day I think it will be good to maintain for all future readers, the anonymity. So if you do recommend the site, and you know who I am, be sure NOT to tell anyone anymore.

Hot, hot, hot

A measure of global warming I first felt in Pune, maybe five years ago. The summers became unbearably hot. The Pune summer was hot, but never touching 40 Deg C. This year it regularly crossed 40 Deg C. That puts it in the range of the Gulf countries. And that’s global warming for you. Pune as hot as the Gulf. When it’s the monsoon in Pune it’s the summer in the Gulf. The heat here is like being slapped with a coal iron, trussed in a blanket, baked in an oven and thrown in a sauna. All at once.

Graceful losing

I believe it was Clive Lloyd the West Indian cricket captain who said, “Show me a good loser and I’ll show you a loser.” His point being that losing should have no goodness about it. I agree. But it can have grace and meaning. That aspect of losing was on display yesterday after Rafa Nadal had brow-beaten Roger Federer into surrendering his Wmbledon title. I have said this before, Federer is too much of a nice guy and may lack the ruthlessness that is needed to be a champion. Rafa has that. There was grace in Federer’s loss though.

Beach bizarre

It’s prohibitively hot right now in the Gulf. But, that does not stop those who have chosen not to flee the summer from going to the beach. This weekend, I packed all those who bore my last name and some friends and trooped to a sea-side resort. So, essentially you sleep all day and then go down to the beach by say 10.30 pm, when a strong sea breeze kills the humidity. Then till 2 am you do what people do on a beach during the day everywhere else in the world. Bizarre? Yes. Sensible? Very much so.

Random numbers don't exist

The randomness of numbers fascinates me. By and large numbers intimidate me, but, I have long had this subliminal hobby of relating numbers. Phone numbers, PIN numbers, license plate numbers – I look at the them and I begin to draw a relation between them, so as to make memory sense. It is in this strange pursuit that I discovered that there is no such thing as a random number. It’s random only so long as it does not exist in your consciousness for a particular context. Once you’ve picked or noticed a number, it ceases to be random.

The new Brazil

I waited a day before writing my final 99 on the Euro. I tried hard to find fault with the newly crowned champions. The only blemish was perhaps, and this a stretch, that they had to use a Brazilian-raised player, Marcos Senna, in the team. Other than that, Spain is perhaps the new Brazil of world football. Besides Italy and Greece, the tournament was about free flowing, attractive, attacking football. And to that end, Spain, the best proponents of that style, were fitting winners. My player of the tournament is Madrid’s Sergio Ramos. He took out Russia. And Germany.