Tag you very much

I got tagged. Twice. This whole tagging business reminds me of this game we used to play back in Vidya Mandir in 1988. When teachers used to finish their syllabus early, we would have a few free classes, and if the play ground was occupied, they would ask us to play something called “Memory”. It involved kids, in sequence, remembering words (perhaps animal names) that others said before them, and then adding a new word of their own to the increasingly unwieldy menagerie. There would be occasional show-off (the ones whose parents could afford to buy them a “World Book Encyclopaedia” or “Childcraft”) who would add “Quetzalcoatl” to the list, but little did they realize that it was the innocuous “dog” or “cat” that people would forget simply because they are so non-descript.

Hold on. Where was I? Ah yes. I got tagged twice and I am told that if I did not respond before a third time, the ravens in Besant Nagar would poke my eyes out (after breaking my spectacles first, of course).

Desigirl and Sharanya have graciously given me (a rather Italian sounding) award called (drums roll…)

When I first saw the logo, I thought it was a Telugu ad by an ink manufacturing company hoping to gain some cred in the blogosphere by sponsoring an award of some sort. Bril ante Weblog.

And just when I was about to pawn the pixellated, multihued diamond at the local Chaman Lal Pawn shop to get myself some cash to go buy games for the Nintendo Wii, I was told that I am supposed to pass the honour on to 7 of my favourite blogs, because the rules state

The Brilliant Weblog award is a prize given to sites and blogs that are smart and brilliant both in their content and their design. The purpose of the prize is to promote as many blogs as possible in the blogosphere.

So here we go. My 7 favourite blogs (not in any particular order)

Baby Vaijayanti and Puppy Manohar – Leave your disbelief at the door. Next to the footwear.

Bengalooru Banter – If blogs were mallu playback singers, his would be Yesudas. If they were Kannada superstars, his would be Rajkumar. If they were Tamil comedians, his would be Vadivel. Coincidentally, he is a bit of all the three himself.

Maami – Her blog is a lesson in how to craft posts. Beautifully written prose that we get to read for free instead of paying Rs. 395 at Landmark.

Bengloori Girl in Denver – Entha funny

On being Tamizh and a Penn – a.k.a The Tambram Times of T-Nagar

Autobiography of an ordinary man – He often writes the funniest comments on my blog, but his posts are even funnier.

Son of Bosey – Not updated frequently enough for my taste, but funny nonetheless.

A lot of door but absolutely no darshan

The Olympics are coming to an end, and thanks to Doordarshan, I’ve seen lots of nothing.

And talking about black holes, the logo for Doordarshan does resemble one.

And all meaningful live action is behind their event horizon.

Hyperbole aside, how bad was it really?

Legend (or quizzing trivia) has it that the Yogic Siddhi that provides the practitioner with the power to see distances afar, the power that Sanjaya used to report on the Kurukshetra war to Dhritarashtra, was called “Door Darshan”. It looks like a couple of millenia later, the power has waned a bit. I was like Dhritarashtra, sitting in Chennai, blind to the incredible action going on at the Bird’s Nest in Beijing, and I was entirely relying on the power of Doordarshan for my daily Olympic fix. Everyday for the last 2 weeks, I would come back home from work, and say

Dhritarashtra Uvaacha (said): O Sun O Jaya, take your soaps and go away. Come hither, Beijing! What bloody wars are the track and field athletes fighting right now?

Doordarshan Uvaacha : Patience O Blind king, let me first tell you about Micheal Phelps and his 8 gold medals, and why he is the “Complete Man”, and if only he did not spend 6 hours a day in the pool, he would be wearing Raymond suits.

Dhritarashtra Uvaacha : Ah fie upon my lifeless eyes. Has the Michael not returned to Sea World, back to his tank last week? Tell me something new, O Far seer. Tell me about the 4 x 400m. Can the Reggae dancers outwit the Stars and Stripes here too?

Doordarshan Uvaacha : In good time O Husband of the Lady from Kandahar. Let me first show you slow motion clips of Vijender’s bouts set to music from Lagaan.

Dhritarashtra Uvaacha : Aaaah come closer so I can hug you. The real war is in the Bird’s nest, and yet you continue to waste my time with retrospectives. Couldn’t that wait till after the games are over?

Doordarshan Uvaacha : Your wish, O blind king. Live action it is. Here is a full 70 minutes of the bronze medal Hockey match between Australia and Netherlands. And the medal ceremonies of all the Boxing finals. And ah, boxing reminds me – here’s Vijender in slow motion again, set to music from Lagaan. And after that, 30 minutes of the crack DD sports commentary team talking you through what’s happening right now

Dhritarahtra Uvaacha : Gaandhaari. Please open your eyes just for a bit, will you, and burn to ashes this Far seer. Oh Youtube, do you have anything useful to report on the games?

Youtube Uvaacha : Damnation O blind king! NBC keeps deleting all my videos related to the Olympics.

Dhritarashtra Uvaacha : Fie upon you, Ambika. Why did you get scared of Vyaasa? Sigh. Doordarshan, leave live action alone. Show me at least the highlights of the day after the sun sets.

Doordarshan Uvaacha : Certainly O blind king. Here are yesterday’s highlights, today.

Dhritarashtra Uvaacha : (Unprintable curses in Sanskrit)

And if this wasn’t enough, both BBC and CNN let me know politely that video clips were not available outside of their countries. That’ it. I’m off to London in 2012 to watch the next one live.

Tiago Roger on the Lake Geneva shoreline

Warning: The following post may not make sense if you cannot immediately recognize that the Hungarian minor scale is really just Keeravani wearing a bowler hat.

Somewhere in the place we call the “past”, two subspecies of the branch Homo Sapiens Madrasicus split. The evolutionary difference between them had to do with music, and the intervening years have, rather unfairly, kept these two groups more apart than necessary. I am talking about the two kinds of music that caused this schism in the first place. Interestingly enough, both genres contain the word “Classic” in the adjectives used to describe them.

1. “Classical” music, a.k.a Carnatic music a.k.a Raga and Rule
2. “Classic” rock, a.k.a 1970s music a.k.a Rock and Roll

Since I enjoy both genres immensely, I feel rather strange that I don’t have much company (with the exception of him, perhaps). If one were to draw a Venn diagram of this situation, A (ulta U) B would not just be tending to zero, but sprinting towards it in all earnest. In other words, the union of both of these sets seems to have resulted in divorce without any marriage counseling. Therefore, this post seeks to make the first moves in reconciling fans of “Nagumomu” with the fans of “Smoke on the Water”.

And talking of those 2 songs, here is a typical conversation between 2 folks, KD Gandhari and Vaadaamalli, who find themselves sitting next to each other on 47A from Besant Nagar to ICF.

KDG: You know that feeling when you go to a concert, and you wait 2+ hours for your favourite song, and they don’t sing it?

VM: Oh yes, I do. It’s happened to me many times. It feels like eating a Mirchi bajji and being informed that there is only boiling hot water available to drink. Not a good feeling at all.

KDG: I mean, for example, this song, one of my all-time favourites, is such a global hit, that not performing it at a concert completely defies explanation

VM: I fully empathize. It happens pretty frequently with my favourite song as well. Huge hit, and yet, all to frequently ignored in the playlist.

KDG: I love this song sooo much. The beauty of the minor pentatonic with the descending full scale..hmm..delectable

VM: Yeah. I can just feel the harmony. Roger was at his best.

KDG: Agree. Roger must have known right away that he was composing one for the ages.

VM: Yes. Totally unforgettable tune, that one.

KDG: Amen to that.

VM: Totally. The lake must have been such as inspiration

KDG: You mean the river

VM: No. Lake.

KDG: Why do I get the feeling that we are not talking about the same song?

VM: Yes. This sudden cognitive dissonance involving the type of water body is rather jarring. Like C and F# being played together all of a sudden.

KDG: I am referring to the river Cauvery

VM: And I, Lake Geneva

KDG: Aaaaaaaaaaaah. I’ve been talking to an insufferable classic rock fan

VM: Aaaaaaaaaaah, I’ve been wasting my time on a pompous music academy peter party

(Cold silence ensues)

So that’s been the typical tone of conversation so far, but it doesn’t always have to be that way. Classic Rockers and Classical Raagers can get along. On the face of it, both genres seem about as far from each other as Anu Malik and original compositions, but that’s just an illusion. There are many similarities between Classic Rock and Carnatic music.

For starters, both these genres have a strong live-performance-creativity element. One has Kalpana swaras and the other, extended Guitar leads and one has Thani avarthanams and the other, pounding drum solos. Carnatic music is about reaching the Higher Being, Classic Rock is about generally being high.

So, here we go: Tiago Roger’s Smokin’ lead

and Deep Purple plays Nagumomu

Peace out.

I sport Indian support

Congratulations Abhinav. Awesome show. The media tells me that you have given hope, single-handedly, to a billion people aching for Indian sporting glory. Well, at least the 400 million, TV-watching, newspaper-scanning part of that billion. All news channels are currently busy analyzing why India cannot produce more Abhinavs.

What makes your (and Leander’s, Rajyavardhan’s and Malleswari’s) achievement even more remarkable is that you are all sportspeople in a fundamentally unsporting nation. As a country, we are not really into sports. Of course, we do excel in certain disciplines, which unfortunately are not recognized by the Olympic committee, such as

Buck passing

Horse Trading

and ofcourse, the Great Indian Media Circus

So honestly, I don’t think India will get better at international sports (the ones the Olympic committee recognizes, i.e.) because Abhinav won gold in Beijing. Yeah, perhaps, a few more, well-to-do, highly focussed, hard working individuals might go on to become shooting champions, but nothing more. And that’s because the last time I asked a 10 year old what P.T. meant, he replied Physics Training (after school hours, for JEE). And most schools in Chennai (and other places as well) have more or less eliminated play grounds to erect more buildings that churn out exam-cracking zombies. Very few schools in Indian Urbia(?) have open spaces larger than a badminton court. My own Alma Mater, Vidya Mandir, used to have 2 spectacularly spacious playgrounds, both of which have now been replaced with concrete monstrosities to accommodate more students.

You see, Getting better at international sports looks something like this.

This is not to say that India cannot lay claim to a similar graph with respect to the Olympics. Of course, we can. In fact, we have a very similar looking graph as well:

So there.

It requires more than a dandanaka media circus around Abhinav’s achievement to bring about change in Indian sports. Commentators often like to say that Indian sports is in “disarray”, but for something to be in a state of disarray, it had to have originally been in some sort of array. And when was that? Let’s face it. India is not into sports in any meaningful way. Our schools do not support sports. They also don’t sport support. School sports requires a healthy, competitive atmosphere to thrive like those in the US or Europe, where inter-school matches are cheered by large crowds of students from both schools, and the official school team for any sport is a brand name in itself. When inter-school matches happen in India, the “crowd” is busy learning the finer points of cracking the board-exam.

In the 80s, when schools still had 3 PT periods in a week, India had no technology whatsoever, because one had to sell one’s soul to get an import license to even buy a treadmill. And now, when India is shining, IT is exploding and all that, our schools have “extra classes” to train our children in the advanced art of vomitting in exams. And playgrounds have all but disappeared from Indian cities. India spends $280 million USD on sports annually, out of which more than half goes towards “administrative” expenses. The few athletes that manage to trickle out of our billion are exceptions, and given the general social status of the non-cricketing sportsperson in India, what little they manage to do is exceptional.

Cricket is not a sport like Football or Volleyball. It’s an expensive (next only to Golf) pastime which, till rather recently, was mostly dominated by physically unfit Brahmins, a community that traditionally took to this sport with glee since it involved little or no physical contact with opponents, or for that matter, team mates (the huddle would not have worked in 1954). To say that many millions play cricket in India is actually a lie. A real cricket ball costs upward of Rs 400, and book cricket, cosco tennis ball cricket, french cricket and gilli danda are not really cricket.

So let’s stop deluding ourselves that we need to produce more Abhinavs. He is a self-made sportsman who has been training for the last decade using his own resources. Large scale national success in sports does not come from individuals like Abhinav excelling despite being outside the system. It will come from bringing back 3 PT periods a week in schools. And playing something other than cricket.

Some cocktails just don’t cut it

Dear Darth Vaadhiar,

I am a fan of cocktails, and in the past, have experimented with some fairly interesting concoctions, and had it not been for my aversion towards all forms of intellectual property protection mechanisms, I would most certainly have patented my original creations. For instance,

• Anthim Sanskaar – Beer, Mango pickle and Vodka shaken while Nirvikalpa’s Anthim Sanskaar plays in the background.
• Raam Naam Sathya hai – Bacardi, Sprite, Passion fruit juice and 2 mysterious ingredients (determined by closing ones eyes and picking 2 random liquids from the fridge)
• Kovil Theertham – Vodka, Sprite, Spinach juice and Vibhuti

were some of my popular creations a few years back. But, while these unseemly mixtures might make you pause for breath (no offense meant), I would like to lodge a formal protest at the unholy cocktail you and your gang have been peddling for quite a while now. I can tolerate vodka with Nannari Sharbat, Bacardi with Paanagam and Whisky with Rasna, but Religion with Science?

No way.

They don’t mix. Not even when you stir, shake, blend or make them collide here. So when you start bolstering religious superstition (like Vaastu, Astrology, Numerology, Gemmology and assorted Homams for getting US Visas) with pseudo-scientific jargon (such as radiation from Saturn, astral alignment, Cosmic vibrations, crystal vibrations and positive energy), you are doing not just grave, but electric cemetery disservice to science. Let me explain.

For the sake of clarity, religion here is referred to in terms of its visible effects on culture (superstition, ignorance, violence, caste), and not what it was meant to be ( Upanishadic wisdom, Kabbala or Sufi mysticism)

All religions went through the following three phases

1. There ain’t no science, so I am the boss. Believe in me or I shall poke you with sharp objects. Till you say “Ouch”.
2. Science, wtf? It can’t explain the true nature of the universe.
3. Damn it I’m losing revenue. People seem to be trusting science more now. So let’s co-opt it, and rebrand our offerings.

It’s phase 3 that I have a problem with. The expression “scientifically proven” is not something one can use lightly. Let me give you some specific examples

1. Mahabharatha and Advanced Nuclear Warfare – I love that epic, and to many people in this country, it is a religious artifact that is worshipped. But please, stop hinting that the Brahmastra was actually a nuclear weapon. It is embarrassing. There is a lot of history Indians can be proud of, the magnificent art, the beautiful music and the creative poetry and prose, and even the “zero”, but we did not invent nuclear bombs. So when you say that “It has now been scientifically proven that nuclear bombs were used at Kurukshetra”, you are actually saying that some accredited scientists found physical proof (such as radiation levels in that area, design blueprints for the Brahmastra, human remains that suggest effects of radiation, or Krishna’s personal, hand-held, wifi-enabled Geiger counter) and published these findings in a peer-reviewed journal. The last time I searched Nature.com for “Brahmastra nuclear missile“, I found zero results.

2. Astrology and “Radiation from planets” – I am fine with the hobby of Astrology as long as it remains a hobby and does not mess with people’s lives. But unfortunately it does, and what bothers me is the increasing throwing around of astronomical terms to “justify” astrology. The planet Saturn is (at the minimum) 1.2 billion km from earth, and as a source of “radiation”, I suspect we get more radiation from our television sets than from this ringed gas giant. Here is a list of known “radiation” sources on earth, so I propose that you alter the structure of horoscopes to include these “scientific” facts.

I currently suffer from the malefic influence of 7 and a half-year TV, and had cosmic background radiation been exalted in Aquarius, mine would have been a raja-yoga horoscope.

3. Eclipses and “Atmospheric Pollution” – Fasting in general is a bad idea. Fasting on days of eclipses is therefore also a bad idea. A renowned Sanskrit (not Science) scholar once claimed, that “scientifically speaking”, a solar eclipse results in a polluted atmosphere, and therefore people must fast. If atmospheric pollution was enough cause for skipping food, we would all have starved to death by now. In any case, how does the sun “clean” the atmosphere? I can understand that the moon can (because it causes Tide, which in turn is a detergent).

You get my point? If you have to use science to sell your ideas, you have to be ready to subject them to real scientific scrutiny. Until that happens, please do not mix methyl-alcohol laced religious bootleg sarakku with scientific champagne.

ps: Darth Vaadhiar is a caricature, and therefore, really a straw-man. Readers are requested not to consider this a well-informed tirade against religion.