Sunday, November 15, 2009
And of Muddied Oafs....
An unseen and ineluctable downward intellectual spiral in most of our lives has us occasionally pausing out of breath wondering where all one’s lofty pursuits have disappeared. The extent of elation on encountering anything divergent from the status quo, usually a direct measure of the depths that we may have plumbed, is unfettered by any stimulus causing it to begin with which consequently results in divine epiphanies being felt on receipt of simple homilies. Some manifestations are in the vociferous and frequent forced appreciation of mediocre art, form and ideas.
Having felt the clannish appeal of some of my passions, I realize that my own inability to come to grips with those who merely show up than to experience whatever it is that can be is a sad reflection of a more polarized view. But applauding with a scant regard to genuine dissection of style and substance breeds only languor and gradual ruin.
Just reading through stuff like this gives one sleepless nights
Having felt the clannish appeal of some of my passions, I realize that my own inability to come to grips with those who merely show up than to experience whatever it is that can be is a sad reflection of a more polarized view. But applauding with a scant regard to genuine dissection of style and substance breeds only languor and gradual ruin.
Just reading through stuff like this gives one sleepless nights
“ ….If I could do TED India all over again, I would have brought the Gods of all the major religions on stage and asked them how they viewed India. Then I would have asked the Chief Beliefs Officer to create a new politics where they could sing, dance, work and pray together….”
So a nice way to spend time, to delude oneself into the significance and sweep of the power of some ideas and yes, to network.
It’s sweet but it’s not a meal !!
So a nice way to spend time, to delude oneself into the significance and sweep of the power of some ideas and yes, to network.
It’s sweet but it’s not a meal !!
.....
The little TEDdy bears are having a lovely time today
Watch them, catch them unawares
And see them picnic on their holiday.......
Thursday, November 05, 2009
Valley of the Dolts
Having always considered myself a genuine sports-lover and with more than a passing acquaintance with the Indian Army, I am alarmed at the predictably churlishly and piercingly shrill rants that have found their way into the mangers of the media at the refusal/inability of the Services team to visit Srinagar to play their Ranji Trophy match against the hosts J & K.
As the story goes, the top guns at Services heard or deduced something based on which they summarily decided that their team was not going to visit Srinagar and informed their squad that the visit was off, staying put in Delhi. After learning of this decision on the eve of the match, the BCCI banned the team for this season. The chastened Services team apologized and offered to play on another date, but the BCCI stayed with their decision.
The choleric Farooq Abdullah fretted and fumed speaking of ripping the BCCI apart for not being able to get the Services team to play. His Pomposity Mon. Perspicuously Clear mouthed some drivel about not being in the know on the proposed no-show and hence unable to prevent it. But what are the frayed tempers about ?
The Services team is made up of fighting men who ostensibly can defend themselves on and off the field. The J & K team is not made of Mission Kashmiris but contains expats from other states including the coach. And both compete in the Plate League which is in no danger of rewriting cricket books.
For all that it offers being “far more important that Life and Death”, sport in these troubled times has to cede to national interest. Sport has to embellish the quotidian sameness of everyday life, not supplant it by a truncated martyrdom, metaphorically or otherwise. It shall remain the cream and not replace the cake. If there was the slightest danger to life and limb, it was simply not worth the risk. No harm done, shake hands, decide a fresh date and move on. And next time, please pick up the phone and talk, preferably well in advance so that no misgivings result.
As the story goes, the top guns at Services heard or deduced something based on which they summarily decided that their team was not going to visit Srinagar and informed their squad that the visit was off, staying put in Delhi. After learning of this decision on the eve of the match, the BCCI banned the team for this season. The chastened Services team apologized and offered to play on another date, but the BCCI stayed with their decision.
The choleric Farooq Abdullah fretted and fumed speaking of ripping the BCCI apart for not being able to get the Services team to play. His Pomposity Mon. Perspicuously Clear mouthed some drivel about not being in the know on the proposed no-show and hence unable to prevent it. But what are the frayed tempers about ?
The Services team is made up of fighting men who ostensibly can defend themselves on and off the field. The J & K team is not made of Mission Kashmiris but contains expats from other states including the coach. And both compete in the Plate League which is in no danger of rewriting cricket books.
For all that it offers being “far more important that Life and Death”, sport in these troubled times has to cede to national interest. Sport has to embellish the quotidian sameness of everyday life, not supplant it by a truncated martyrdom, metaphorically or otherwise. It shall remain the cream and not replace the cake. If there was the slightest danger to life and limb, it was simply not worth the risk. No harm done, shake hands, decide a fresh date and move on. And next time, please pick up the phone and talk, preferably well in advance so that no misgivings result.
Wednesday, October 28, 2009
What the well-dressed man is wearing
After ample coverage of the mayhem dished out to unprotesting “fabric” and self-conscious models during the yawnfests also known as fashion shows, the scene shifts to embarrassing a hitherto content and silent section of our population. It is the season of the relatively low-key Gladrags Mrs. India where a politically motivated set of organizers attempt to set aright the balance.
The ads that proclaim the high levels of competition alas also pander to the most clichéd of ideals – the lady contestants are swathed in swirling silk and demurely draped in sarees, a vermilion dot that you couldn’t miss for its sheer size and more bangles than you’d find in most shops. Are there no other ways of representation, folks ?
Till we actually cringe at the questions I can imagine that may be posed, it’s over to Evening Gown Presentation, Public Speaking, Voice Modulation, Enunciation, Body Language, Proper Attire and Leadership Skills !
The ads that proclaim the high levels of competition alas also pander to the most clichéd of ideals – the lady contestants are swathed in swirling silk and demurely draped in sarees, a vermilion dot that you couldn’t miss for its sheer size and more bangles than you’d find in most shops. Are there no other ways of representation, folks ?
Till we actually cringe at the questions I can imagine that may be posed, it’s over to Evening Gown Presentation, Public Speaking, Voice Modulation, Enunciation, Body Language, Proper Attire and Leadership Skills !
Thursday, September 10, 2009
Follow the Sun
To ensure and complete a rich integration of a smooth transfer of learning from the bored-room to the black-and-bored room, the Ingenious Silo of Blah has enunciated their version of beating the street in the wake of recessionary pressures. This heady concoction titled “Chase the Shadowy CEO” engenders students staking a claim to bid for and get a full day to trace the whereabouts of CEOs of their choice who have fallen afoul of the laws of the land.
The need for money to bid has already seen the aspiring students knock the doors of the organizations where these CEOs are from. However, many employees have expressed little interest in funding the search of their truant masters which has whittled the enthusiasm of the young aspirants who crave to walk in the shoes of their corporate icons
The need for money to bid has already seen the aspiring students knock the doors of the organizations where these CEOs are from. However, many employees have expressed little interest in funding the search of their truant masters which has whittled the enthusiasm of the young aspirants who crave to walk in the shoes of their corporate icons
Sunday, September 06, 2009
A Teacher's Day
An unhappy task lies before me, to remember a dear teacher on an occasion meant to salute the noble efforts of this most undervalued and under-recognized profession. The discomfiting humidity and momentary loneliness I feel may pass but the lump in the throat that refuses to go away may not.
Prof. Deven Dhanak who taught me Organization Development about a decade ago passed on last month. While there may be and will be practitioners who manage an easier bite-sized dissemination of their collective experiences, Prof. Dhanak went the other way in his relentless efforts to get young students to think and feel as a practitioner would in similar scenarios, and channelize those to get the class to comprehend issues and grasp insights which would simply not be possible through a conventional teaching medium.
One may have memories of various tints and hues of an education that one increasingly distances oneself from in the pursuit of corporate effects, but some do stand out especially of associations where teachers have taken the pains to lay down the entire contents of curriculum requirements and then proceeded to wipe the metaphorical slate clean in evolving a learning mechanism that would be interesting, inspiring and ingenious.
His confidence and easy affability even while engaging in serious discussions allowed many a fledgling mind to expand and flower, his ability to ruthlessly exorcise all forms of verbiage and sophistry and instill similar traits in his wards and his use of quote-a-minute asides which were founts of entertainment and mirth on the surface and filled with experienced wisdom and genuine knowledge ensured his classes were always looked forward to, in itself a difficult assignment in an era where strong minds and bodies were wilting under the sheer weight of academic demands. Wearing his erudition lightly, he always managed to hold students enraptured who were sick with waiting for the one-liner that they could chortle at or with as the case may be. Looking back, some of my own professional efforts to attempt to peel the onion and get to the heart of the matter while jettisoning conceivably distracting tactics in a vocal articulation towards those may come from some of my experiences listening to him, as also a tendency to nudge folks into talking about an issue and not around it.
His untimely demise will be felt by those who worked with him, but I do believe that those who were influenced most by his style and substance will bounce back, committing themselves strongly to whatever they held dear just as he had once exhorted me and many like me to !
Prof. Deven Dhanak who taught me Organization Development about a decade ago passed on last month. While there may be and will be practitioners who manage an easier bite-sized dissemination of their collective experiences, Prof. Dhanak went the other way in his relentless efforts to get young students to think and feel as a practitioner would in similar scenarios, and channelize those to get the class to comprehend issues and grasp insights which would simply not be possible through a conventional teaching medium.
One may have memories of various tints and hues of an education that one increasingly distances oneself from in the pursuit of corporate effects, but some do stand out especially of associations where teachers have taken the pains to lay down the entire contents of curriculum requirements and then proceeded to wipe the metaphorical slate clean in evolving a learning mechanism that would be interesting, inspiring and ingenious.
His confidence and easy affability even while engaging in serious discussions allowed many a fledgling mind to expand and flower, his ability to ruthlessly exorcise all forms of verbiage and sophistry and instill similar traits in his wards and his use of quote-a-minute asides which were founts of entertainment and mirth on the surface and filled with experienced wisdom and genuine knowledge ensured his classes were always looked forward to, in itself a difficult assignment in an era where strong minds and bodies were wilting under the sheer weight of academic demands. Wearing his erudition lightly, he always managed to hold students enraptured who were sick with waiting for the one-liner that they could chortle at or with as the case may be. Looking back, some of my own professional efforts to attempt to peel the onion and get to the heart of the matter while jettisoning conceivably distracting tactics in a vocal articulation towards those may come from some of my experiences listening to him, as also a tendency to nudge folks into talking about an issue and not around it.
His untimely demise will be felt by those who worked with him, but I do believe that those who were influenced most by his style and substance will bounce back, committing themselves strongly to whatever they held dear just as he had once exhorted me and many like me to !
Friday, September 04, 2009
A Star is Born
For a nation ranked about No. 150 ( FIFA rankings) to rejoice about exploits, real or imagined, on a football field might be construed as heady optimism by some and blind faith clamouring for any form of sporting success by others. This light-headed joy came largely due to custodian Subrata Pak held up as the public face of India’s victory, and who now finds himself the subject of a respectable fan following- many of whom sat wonderstruck as this youngster stared down his opponents, indulged in various displays of gamesmanships and emerged triumphant when it mattered.
From a deserved bad-boy image which reached a crescendo around his part in the sad demise of Dempo striker Cristiano Junior in 2004, Pal has now come full circle. His cheerful comportment while causing palpitations in others, atleast serves to keep him calm and composed in trying situations like the penalty shootout with Syria in the recent Nehrup Cup at the Ambedkar Stadium, Delhi. India reached the final of the four-member tournament after having conceded a goal in every match played whereas Syria’s Mosab Balhous had kept a clean sheet in all his matches for Syria.
A 120th equalizer had taken matters to the shootout after a Renedy Singh setpiece had given India the lead in extra time. And then it began. The strutting Pal kept a beatific smile as his waited till given marching orders from the ref. to retreat to the goal-line, did his Big Bird flapping routine during all penalties, constantly chatted with the Indian penalty-takers and made as much a nuisance of himself within the rules and came good with three saves out of the seven he faced.
After the last penalty had been squandered ( a wise lady sports anchor called it a penalty corner !) by Al Altounim, Pal is worth watching. He starts off with clenched fist, breaks into a jog away from goal, changes direction as he sees his elated team approaching, changes direction again and then of all the people he has at his preening disposal to pump flesh with, chooses to go to his opponent, the Syrian goalkeeper Mosab Balhous to exchange a quick high-five and a hug before being mobbed by his teammates. Quite a sight to see that in international competition ! Perhaps the Indian soccer revival will come from a backfield move after all with this Pune FC player at its head.
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From a deserved bad-boy image which reached a crescendo around his part in the sad demise of Dempo striker Cristiano Junior in 2004, Pal has now come full circle. His cheerful comportment while causing palpitations in others, atleast serves to keep him calm and composed in trying situations like the penalty shootout with Syria in the recent Nehrup Cup at the Ambedkar Stadium, Delhi. India reached the final of the four-member tournament after having conceded a goal in every match played whereas Syria’s Mosab Balhous had kept a clean sheet in all his matches for Syria.
A 120th equalizer had taken matters to the shootout after a Renedy Singh setpiece had given India the lead in extra time. And then it began. The strutting Pal kept a beatific smile as his waited till given marching orders from the ref. to retreat to the goal-line, did his Big Bird flapping routine during all penalties, constantly chatted with the Indian penalty-takers and made as much a nuisance of himself within the rules and came good with three saves out of the seven he faced.
After the last penalty had been squandered ( a wise lady sports anchor called it a penalty corner !) by Al Altounim, Pal is worth watching. He starts off with clenched fist, breaks into a jog away from goal, changes direction as he sees his elated team approaching, changes direction again and then of all the people he has at his preening disposal to pump flesh with, chooses to go to his opponent, the Syrian goalkeeper Mosab Balhous to exchange a quick high-five and a hug before being mobbed by his teammates. Quite a sight to see that in international competition ! Perhaps the Indian soccer revival will come from a backfield move after all with this Pune FC player at its head.
Friday, August 28, 2009
Sankat City
Other than two forced references at the beginning and the end of the film, the unnaturally-named and even more unnaturally-made Sankat City does not directly reference the city much and in fact the only ones weaken what was never a taut plot in the first place. An empty B.E.S.T bus lumbering uphill and then downhill and a garbage dump the size of Scrooge’s money bin may seem thin devices indeed.
However the absence of a cogent storyline is more than made up with a textured humour that imbues most scenes and breathes life into a maze of otherwise improbable characters bumbling their way past and sometimes into obelisk-size boulders. A ragtag bunch of unabashedly dissolute and avaricious rascals which range from opportunistic goldfish-loving car-thieves, dough-worshipping film producers and saintly moneylenders who turn Satanic when the moolah is not returned, to enterprising prostitutes, Walter Mitty-esque cab drivers and wanton Swamijis make hay while director Pankaj Advani leaves the cameras rolling.
A fine cast led by the versatile Kay Kay and Anupam Kher run amok among accomplished television actors in Manoj Pahwa, Sanjay Mishra, Hemant Pandey ( Office Office ),and Virendra Saxena, Dilip Prabhavalkar, Shrivallabh Vyas, Jehangir Khan, Rahul Dev. Rimi ( again spouting Bengali when in trouble which is often) and Yashpal Sharma ( mouthing Mind-blowing incessantly !) steal the show with eye-catching performances juxtaposed with a slaveringly-hamming Chunkey Pandey.
Even if one walks away with the feeling that Advani could have done away with some farcical elements ( the dangling-from-the window discovery of twins discovering each other after a mela-melee) and some scenes appearing unnecessarily rushed, the individual elements of this songless and breezy caper do deserve a viewing for their own selves.
