Where've all the kids gone?

Yesterday was by far, the best day ever, to travel on a bus in Chennai. With all the schools, colleges, ad other educational institutions closed for the floods, the busses were all between empty and an agreeable crowd. No getting stamped, No having to make excuses in Tamil, No sweating with someone else's sweat. Oh boy, the list goes on! Even more interestingly, a ride that would normally take me an hour on a Monday evening took just 25 minutes yesterday.

Which led me to a really catchy idea. Why not completely do away with school's and colleges. The busses will return to being the preferred mode of commutation. And we can solve the problem of overcrowding on the roads too!

**

Sunday in Chennai was beyond what anyone could actually imagine sitting in their sitting rooms and watching the afternoon movie. It was raining mad all day (Lets say for 22 out of the maximum 24 hours) and whats more it was flooding like it floods in my home village in Kerala after it rains for 3 weeks on the trot and they open dams. Yes, one day of rains, and I was wading home in knee deep water.

Now dont say that's fun. Of course, it was fun. But that's only if you dont look at the water. Filled with all the dirt on the dirtiest city in India! (okay, you may come with stats to disprove that, but Chennai is dirty. dirty. dirty. period!

Well, that's why they gave an off for th schools and colleges. But would you believe it, in the morning, there was absolutely no indication that it was raining huge cats and mighty dogs just the day before, or that I waded back home in knee deep water! Neat (and maybe a trifle cleaner) roads, and a dry, if not clear sky.

Which again led me to think. Occasionally it should rain this bad. So a lot of people will get holidays and can sit at home and see movies and eat and talk and no, i didn't forget, sleep! The rest of the city can go about their jobs in peace, especially travelling in empty busses.

**

Yesterday the Sensex touched 20000 (finally!, for people like me who grow impatient when it takes so long to move on). CNBC had a rather bleak celebration, which clearly indicated that theyd rather it stayed at 20, if not 18, till it dies, for want of interesting ideas. Even the newspapers were muted in celebration. Okay, I said muted. That's muted in write ups, not in volume. The Economic Times was a 30 page edition. But that pales compared to the Business Standard (70 pages) and The Financial Express (hold your breath, a whopping 96 pages).

**

PS. Actually even today the busses werent very crowded. Infact I didn't actually see any student on the bus today. Either they took to the holiday mood a little too much, or well, a sudden idea, maybe someone from the Govt also noticed what I did and, oh if only was true, actually ordered the closure of the schools and colleges.

Arms of my father

There is a place that I know

Where I need more often to go

A place of amazing comfort and rest

Where a smile is never rare

And Your love is as free as the air

And I lack for nothing

When I can see the love in Your eyes

And know that it's all for me

I fear nothing at all

When I'm safe in the arms of my Father

And if ever I fall

I take comfort in knowing That You are there

(David Chumbal - Vineyard Music)

18 till I die

The stock market has always been known to spring surprises. The latest surprise is that there is no limit to the surprises it is willing to hold back. In August, most analysts (including myself, though of course, I still hold on to my views) predicted doomsday for marketeers and the most sluggish period since 2001, which was when we last had a bear market. The sensex responded by having an amazing bull run of 2000 points which had most wise men (again, including me) steeped in losses, apart from leaving them in various stages of depression!

And then today, when it was expected (ok, for a change, I wasn't on th wrong side) to finally give up and crumble under the heat emanating from the friction in the negotiating rooms of the UPA-Left coordination commitee, heralding the fall of the Government (which automatically equates to a fall in the stock market) we have another 1000 point run, the fastest 1000 points ever, and the highest intraday gains, again, ever!

Now Mythali Mukherjee on CNBC TV 18, (and if you still havent heard, I get to watch TV all day at office, albeit CNBC) is very much a la Mandira Bedi on Set Max. She shrieks whenever a stock hits a new high, just like Mandira cheers every boundary scored by India. And she wears Indian colours in the newsroom when India played the final against Pakistan last month!

CNBC, on its part, is bent on commemorating each thousand point milestone for the sensex in a unique way. 15000 was marked by a lot of gimmicks in th newsroom, coffee mugs inscribed with 15k, and what not. But well, it was understandable, as the mark was hit after about 6 months. But 16000 came in just 2 months, and everyone in the newsroom was singing on behalf of the index, "Im on sixteen going on seventeen". For the newspapers the next day, it helped that Yuvraj chose that very day to vent his frustration against Andrew Flintoff, the England team, and the world at large together by hitting 6 sixes in a single over. So the headlines were more or less a combination of the 2 achievements, SIXteen was what it was called.

When 17000 came buy just a week later, it was obvious that noone, not to mention the press, was prepared for it. We just heard a recycled version of 'Sixteen going on Seventeen' with the masculine voice saying "Im on seventeen, going on eighteen, Ill take care of you"

Well, maybe it was the effect of this assurance, when 18000 happened in just another week, CNBC was ready. They had an altered version of Bryan Adams' '18 till I die'. They did it quite well, and was just done, when realisation hit Udayan Mukherjee, the chief newsreader. He mused aloud "But wait, do we want the Sensex to be at 18000 for the rest of its life?" muahahahahaha

The next time they played the song (and they play their chosen song for the rest of the day) the chorus was muffled.

PS: If you thought CNBC has interesting ideas, thats just because you dont read the ET. Its headline simply said 'ADULTS ONLY' (with the A encircled like in the movie posters, and the caption read 'At 18, you can blame it on the raging libido. Boys may have to make way for men as sensex hits a record high of 18200 on the back of eye popping rallies in Reliance and Reliance. From here on, it's no longer for the faint of heart. The illustration for the article was a pic of Catherine Zeta Jones from 'All that jazz' in the movie Chicago, cigarette in hand!

But well, coming from the Economic Times, it isnt surprising. It presented the 2007 budget special with front page exposure to all 007 heroines, prominent among them Ursula Andress just emerging from the sea!

My team, My country, My world cup

When India meets Pakistan in a world cup final, the contest, for all the hype and the nerves, never goes down to who blinks first, for that rarely matters. Most often it is who blinks most. And true to its word, amidst all the flurry of eyelashes batting against each other, in a match that had phases ranging from ‘excellent start’ to ‘defendable total’ to ‘Imran on the rampage’ to ‘cant lose from here’ to ‘where did the huge gap between runs to defend and balls to bowl dissappear?”, it was a oversight by the last man standing for the losers, that his improvised stroke ended up in the hands of the fielder. Obviously, Misbah Ul Haq never knew (he didn’t get the sms I received yesterday) that in ‘every corner of the world, there is a malayalee’!

It is ironical that India has won a ‘world cup’ at the only instance in living memory (I wasn’t around when we won it before) in which the team wasn’t sent with the fanfare, with cricket bats autographed by the players of the 1983 coup, with the team selection played out as ‘predict the team’ contests by the newspapers in advance and over-debated on news channels, with Pepsi ads and its access to the team dressing room. With Shah Rukh Khan, Kareena Kapoor, and Saif Ali Khan trying to become one of the 'men in blue', with Shankar Mahadevan claiming allegiance with his corporate sponsored songs. with a good luck dinner by the President of the country, and with thousands of loyal fans waving goodbyes to the aeroplanes in which the team flew away till it disappeared into the skies. Oh why, it wasn’t even a World cup till India actually beat Australia in the semi final. Till then, it was just the T20 world cup, if you can get the difference!

Ironical indeed that even without being in the disastrous form the team was in, approaching the last few legitimate world cups, India wasn’t even counted among the favourites. The event was so insignificant in public perception that three of those who would make any Indian all-time cricket eleven, opted out of the tournament citing without really giving reasons, and none of us really seemed to mind! So insignificant that in the first week of the tournament, the media was more obsessed with the non-playing captain’s resignation than the playing captain’s strategies.

But all that was to change. Change so drastically that the pretty young things that make up CNBC TV18s newsroom spoke, more often than not, in cricket-language on the day of the final, the day after the final, and pretty much the day after the day after the final (We’ll have to wait till tomorrow to see what they have for the day after that). All their newsreaders wore Indian team jersey’s to commemorate the victory, and Mythali Mukherjee made up, atleast in shrieking, for Mandira Bedi’s absence, atleast to the few geeks who are subjected to her all day. (oh btw, did I tell you I get to watch TV at office all day) Even ‘the Hindu’ set aside almost half of its front page for the picture of the Indian team with the trophy. I cant even imagine how the Malayala Manorama would have commemorated its favourite son being the one to hammer the last nail in the Paki coffin, even if that was the only noteworthy thing he did all day.

So India has won a world cup (lets say I don’t mind calling it that)! And boy, aren’t we proud? But should we really be? Did it really matter that the Indian flag being carried around with so called ‘pride’ by females in sports bras (mind you, sponsored by India’s biggest company)? Did we mind - I ask you again, DID WE– mind that the Indian National anthem was not played completely to tune at the start of the match (In case you heard the notes of the first ‘Jaya He’)

Well on the other hand, India has just won a world cup. And in all probability, it wont again, unless the ICC comes up with yet another new format of cricket, and catches our media sleeping. So lets just savour the moment, pretend to own the team, (of course, thanking the BCCI for not depriving us of that pleasure), ignore miniscule issues such as what tune the national anthem is played in, and feel proud to be an Indian. In true Indian fashion!

Im The Only Gay Eskimo

(never mind the topic... just another song thats so addictive! and anyway, Im so starved for topics)

Well, A canary was resting on the road on a cold morning. Well, call it bad luck that a cow was walking along the same road. And call it fate that the cow jus wanted to relieve itself. But can one explain that the cow went and excreted right on top of the sitting canary?

Anyways, it did. but, then, the canary didnt really seem to mind because it was starting to feel warmer now. In fact, it was feeling much better that it felt like singing. So it starts whistling.

Thats when the problem starts. A fox roaming around in the dead of winter, derived off easy prey, noticed th humming coming from inside of the mound of dung. And the fox, being the wise animal he is, realises it is just a canary singing inside. To cut the story short, the fox un-dungs the canary and has a feast!

Now, Moral of the story : Not everyone who gives you bullshit is an enemy, and not everyone who saves you from bullshit is a friend!

(overheard at a meeting yesterday)