"CHOKERS"
Me and many like me have stopped loving South African Cricket
Me and many like me have stopped loving South African Cricket
Monday, May 10, 2010
Sorry to say but they surely are...
During Hero Cup I liked them but Sachin ended them in that historic over;1996 I was fascinated by them: by Jonty, by Cronje, by Donald, but Lara did them; 1999 they were surely the best, and I cried with millions others when Klusner was run out, Steve Waugh did them; 2003 they were the home side lead by the brilliant pollock, but Duckworth Lewis did them; 2007 they did themselves limping out in semis; T20-1 they played awesome but didnt qualify after loosing to Indians and for the first time I stopped supporting them, I started believing what they were labeled as was true, 2009 and 2010 the pakistanis helped us to prove that the South African Cricket team is well and truly:
Thursday, April 15, 2010
The Story of Indian Railway Cutlet
Have you ever noticed Bhartiya Railway- “Aapki Sewa main” (In Your Service) written in small circles on the berths in railway coaches. For me the service by Bhartiya Railway is represented by the quintessential Railway breakfast, Cutlets ?
Those small patties, covered with bread crumbs, deep fried, cut in various shapes (circular in west, heart shaped in east, other shapes which I have seen include a rhombus, small squares etc.) are part of the morning happenings of any train journey. After seeing (or smelling) the great railway toilets in morning (usually flooded, soiled and you know what all) & a quick brushing of teeth along with junta, many a times with finger (as one forgets the brush?) the smell of these cutlets is the first welcome thing which invigorates all senses, especially "the smell" which ends all smells. The smell of railway cutlets is unique, much unique than that of soil after first rains, or that of Chanel no.5 . Any other smell which comes closer is that of railway window railings, purely metallic and very very unique.
These cutlets are mostly made of potatoes with a few seasonal veggies, mostly peas, carrots etc. Although the best ones always have that bit of beetroot in them, they always have. They are the mostly nicely packed item which Indian Railways provide, well wrapped in the aluminum foils, in fact there is a bit of sogginess prior to the crispiness of these cutlets due to the foils which adds to the taste. They always serve two cutlets with bread butter (2 slices only, never ever more than that). I always make a sort of a sandwich out of the first and the second one I just get lost in its taste. One can’t forget the contribution of Sauce here (enriched with Kaddus ?) this tomato ketchup is always packed in those small plastic sachets, bright red in colour, it always adds to the flavour of cutlets.
Cutlets taste best with the watery coffee (which is much better than the watery tea). Although if one gets tea of the quality of Chaudhry Chai waala (near nandurbar station, en route Ahmedabad to Nagpur) one shouldn’t miss that.
Cutlets compete with Omelets in morning, and from the look on the faces of people who buy omelets one knows who wins ?. Cutlets also get an enhanced version in Rajdhani or Shatabdi where they are accompanied with fried green peas or a bit of French fries at times. But the basic taste remains the same.
I just hope I keep traveling, enjoying my journeys on Indian Railway and keep enjoying the wonderful moments it brings along.
Long Live the Indian Railway Cutlet, one of the best breakfasts in the country…
Those small patties, covered with bread crumbs, deep fried, cut in various shapes (circular in west, heart shaped in east, other shapes which I have seen include a rhombus, small squares etc.) are part of the morning happenings of any train journey. After seeing (or smelling) the great railway toilets in morning (usually flooded, soiled and you know what all) & a quick brushing of teeth along with junta, many a times with finger (as one forgets the brush?) the smell of these cutlets is the first welcome thing which invigorates all senses, especially "the smell" which ends all smells. The smell of railway cutlets is unique, much unique than that of soil after first rains, or that of Chanel no.5 . Any other smell which comes closer is that of railway window railings, purely metallic and very very unique.
These cutlets are mostly made of potatoes with a few seasonal veggies, mostly peas, carrots etc. Although the best ones always have that bit of beetroot in them, they always have. They are the mostly nicely packed item which Indian Railways provide, well wrapped in the aluminum foils, in fact there is a bit of sogginess prior to the crispiness of these cutlets due to the foils which adds to the taste. They always serve two cutlets with bread butter (2 slices only, never ever more than that). I always make a sort of a sandwich out of the first and the second one I just get lost in its taste. One can’t forget the contribution of Sauce here (enriched with Kaddus ?) this tomato ketchup is always packed in those small plastic sachets, bright red in colour, it always adds to the flavour of cutlets.
Cutlets taste best with the watery coffee (which is much better than the watery tea). Although if one gets tea of the quality of Chaudhry Chai waala (near nandurbar station, en route Ahmedabad to Nagpur) one shouldn’t miss that.
Cutlets compete with Omelets in morning, and from the look on the faces of people who buy omelets one knows who wins ?. Cutlets also get an enhanced version in Rajdhani or Shatabdi where they are accompanied with fried green peas or a bit of French fries at times. But the basic taste remains the same.
I just hope I keep traveling, enjoying my journeys on Indian Railway and keep enjoying the wonderful moments it brings along.
Long Live the Indian Railway Cutlet, one of the best breakfasts in the country…
Sunday, March 28, 2010
Missing Ones...
6th Oct 2010
My birthday in 2 days, Hyderabad (maybe not) has been a nice good city, minus few of things which were an awesome part of my life few months back.
Like loosing things in room and getting scolded for that, or looking at bargaining skills all through the day, or his awesome vishnu bhagwaan like sleeping position. All that taane which he gave me.
Or the touch of her hands on my ears, or the sound of puchuk, or just watching her staring at that laptop, and getting disso with her.
The burrpy giggles he used to throw up once in a while, sharing the asexual tag with me, and such a calming influence he always brought to me.
Her awesome influence on me, her electrifying presence in placom room, the way she handled things and the way she cared for me through all the toughy times.
His gossips, me and him discussing our chai-biscuit grihasthis :), his awesome pics which truly represent what a person is, removing all the fakeness from them and bringing out what they actually are in his signature style pics.
His love stories, his hugs, the time we spent in DOCC, his presentations, and his voice, he caring for me and me cribbing about his GK, his love for all things non veg.
Her awesome teeth flashing smile, her caring touch and exciting voice, her energy levels which always kept me going through those bad days, her dance moves which I would die for, we talking nonsense sometimes and so much of sense most of time, her gujju jeans , our discussion on small town stories and our so called ganwaar attitude when we sat together, me pulling her leg over she eating fish-head and being bong for the rest of her life.
His love for all things sweet & chocolatey, his mood swings, awesome sense of knowing what I am going through, we forming the profanity expert gang, me cribbing about him never studying, him talking in sleep and running away from all thing academic, and our natural partnerships, and indori dicussions.
His slender legs n wicked smile, his fingers rolling over cellphone with infinite speed, he combing his hair and looking like a nursery kid, him being the most mature persons around irrespective of opinions, his happiness in achieving what he always wanted, his sincerity like of which I never saw, his voice which was irritating but necessary for me to hear whenever I felt sad.
His love for Old Monk and his weird discussions on FMCG, half of which I skipped listening, but they are so difficult to live without now, him shouting at times, but being caring all the time, his enjoyment plans which I was scared about, his relaxation plans which I loved to be part off. Me enjoying sometimes abusing him for weird reasons :), him cribbing about things but being so focused in his life, and for the infinite time we spent together.
Her zillion attempts to declare me incompetent of ever patao-ing a girl, her multizillion attempts to prove herself as kamini, which always bombed as she was so simple, the simplest of them all, me feeling guilty about not knowing her better earlier, to being very lucky to know her so well, just sitting with her and get to listen to her, noticing her fake smiles which were easiest to comprehend and just told me what she thought, and her real smiles which made me more happy than anything else here and for the infinite time we spent together.
Missing ones in my life, hope they don't go missing forever.
My birthday in 2 days, Hyderabad (maybe not) has been a nice good city, minus few of things which were an awesome part of my life few months back.
Like loosing things in room and getting scolded for that, or looking at bargaining skills all through the day, or his awesome vishnu bhagwaan like sleeping position. All that taane which he gave me.
Or the touch of her hands on my ears, or the sound of puchuk, or just watching her staring at that laptop, and getting disso with her.
The burrpy giggles he used to throw up once in a while, sharing the asexual tag with me, and such a calming influence he always brought to me.
Her awesome influence on me, her electrifying presence in placom room, the way she handled things and the way she cared for me through all the toughy times.
His gossips, me and him discussing our chai-biscuit grihasthis :), his awesome pics which truly represent what a person is, removing all the fakeness from them and bringing out what they actually are in his signature style pics.
His love stories, his hugs, the time we spent in DOCC, his presentations, and his voice, he caring for me and me cribbing about his GK, his love for all things non veg.
Her awesome teeth flashing smile, her caring touch and exciting voice, her energy levels which always kept me going through those bad days, her dance moves which I would die for, we talking nonsense sometimes and so much of sense most of time, her gujju jeans , our discussion on small town stories and our so called ganwaar attitude when we sat together, me pulling her leg over she eating fish-head and being bong for the rest of her life.
His love for all things sweet & chocolatey, his mood swings, awesome sense of knowing what I am going through, we forming the profanity expert gang, me cribbing about him never studying, him talking in sleep and running away from all thing academic, and our natural partnerships, and indori dicussions.
His slender legs n wicked smile, his fingers rolling over cellphone with infinite speed, he combing his hair and looking like a nursery kid, him being the most mature persons around irrespective of opinions, his happiness in achieving what he always wanted, his sincerity like of which I never saw, his voice which was irritating but necessary for me to hear whenever I felt sad.
His love for Old Monk and his weird discussions on FMCG, half of which I skipped listening, but they are so difficult to live without now, him shouting at times, but being caring all the time, his enjoyment plans which I was scared about, his relaxation plans which I loved to be part off. Me enjoying sometimes abusing him for weird reasons :), him cribbing about things but being so focused in his life, and for the infinite time we spent together.
Her zillion attempts to declare me incompetent of ever patao-ing a girl, her multizillion attempts to prove herself as kamini, which always bombed as she was so simple, the simplest of them all, me feeling guilty about not knowing her better earlier, to being very lucky to know her so well, just sitting with her and get to listen to her, noticing her fake smiles which were easiest to comprehend and just told me what she thought, and her real smiles which made me more happy than anything else here and for the infinite time we spent together.
Missing ones in my life, hope they don't go missing forever.
Wednesday, March 03, 2010
The Times of Holi - Edition 1
Sometime in 1996, somewhere in Chhattisgarh
Tomorrow is Holi time, this time it has fallen in between the exam, but we will play. Holi requires hell lot of preparations and we are all ready for that. I have my entire arsenal ready,
Apart from Patricks, there is no one else, so we put some gulaal on each other and moved to the row behind. This row has been amazing for my childhood, where I have played everything from Racetrip when electricity goes, to pitthul, kabbadi and obviously cricket. So we played holi here with everyone with our entire arsenal. All my grenades were transferred to a terrace and fired from there.
Although as always there are two types of people everywhere, Good and Bad. We were obviously the good lot, and the bad ones use on Holi day are the ones who use Silver Paint, Grease, and play with even Gobar at times. Also they whistle and say bad stuff when didi log from our township go around on holi. All dirty people…
After the first round we reload our arsenal and move towards Nucleus club where the whole of township assembles. Everything is arranged, from drums full of colour, pipes throwing up chilled water and water tankers supplying hell lot of it, holi style dhinchak music, jalebis and bhaijyas, my friends from all over the township, thandai (2 types, one for us, one for uncles with something called bhang in it which is like alcohol I heard). It ends with food packets.
After playing for a long time, its back home and then the efforts to wash off the colours, and its bad if someone has put some paint or grease on you, bad people. Next day in school everyone would turn with pink cheeks and multicoloured hands. Holi also brings a lot of tiredness and a nice sleep on that day.
Also the sad part is like Navratri it always either falls on sideline or in between an exam. Horrible timing for such an awesome festival, but I will always enjoy celebrating it.
Never better than at Korba…
This year I didn’t celebrate it after quite sometime, hoping this never happens again and keep on enjoying my favorite festival.
Hope you have read the Navratri collection,
“Bhaiya kuch fugge (balloon) dena, arre yeh nahi, who paani waale”
“Lo Beta, 5rs ke 100, rang wagera chahiye”
“nahi bhaiya, who le liya, Thank you”
Tomorrow is Holi time, this time it has fallen in between the exam, but we will play. Holi requires hell lot of preparations and we are all ready for that. I have my entire arsenal ready,
- 2 packets of Gulaal- my favourite- Yellow and Violet, the weirdest of combos
- 2 packs of water waala colour, 1 Solid (choti bottle), one regular in both red & green
- This year I have given away with pichkari, no use, small streams of water are of no use, metal pichkaris as shown in Sholay are not good too. Me and my friends have come up with a set of plastic bottles, cut & twisted to form nice pichku devices with maximum impact
- Fuggas which need to be made into chotu hand grenades filled with water color
- A set of old clothes, the only festival in the world where o0ne wears that. Although on television nowadays they show people wearing Super White clothes on Holi I think it’s a stupid idea. Every year this was the day when we dispatched our worst clothes (mostly torn by EOD). Although one of my friends use to wear the same trouser every year for holi (something which I tried on later)
Apart from Patricks, there is no one else, so we put some gulaal on each other and moved to the row behind. This row has been amazing for my childhood, where I have played everything from Racetrip when electricity goes, to pitthul, kabbadi and obviously cricket. So we played holi here with everyone with our entire arsenal. All my grenades were transferred to a terrace and fired from there.
Although as always there are two types of people everywhere, Good and Bad. We were obviously the good lot, and the bad ones use on Holi day are the ones who use Silver Paint, Grease, and play with even Gobar at times. Also they whistle and say bad stuff when didi log from our township go around on holi. All dirty people…
After the first round we reload our arsenal and move towards Nucleus club where the whole of township assembles. Everything is arranged, from drums full of colour, pipes throwing up chilled water and water tankers supplying hell lot of it, holi style dhinchak music, jalebis and bhaijyas, my friends from all over the township, thandai (2 types, one for us, one for uncles with something called bhang in it which is like alcohol I heard). It ends with food packets.
After playing for a long time, its back home and then the efforts to wash off the colours, and its bad if someone has put some paint or grease on you, bad people. Next day in school everyone would turn with pink cheeks and multicoloured hands. Holi also brings a lot of tiredness and a nice sleep on that day.
Also the sad part is like Navratri it always either falls on sideline or in between an exam. Horrible timing for such an awesome festival, but I will always enjoy celebrating it.
Never better than at Korba…
This year I didn’t celebrate it after quite sometime, hoping this never happens again and keep on enjoying my favorite festival.
Hope you have read the Navratri collection,
Thursday, February 18, 2010
What Having Fun was... What it is?
Comes from my conversations with few buddies... mix of their and my incidents :)
But then like today, there are awesome mornings to cover them all up, from disc-asur to Idli-esh. We had the best breakfast one can ever have to start the day, filter coffee, 5-6 types of idlis, 4 types of dosas, podi with oil, benne (white butter).
I know what kind of fun is best for me, and I will be back soon, as soon as this 2 year thing comes to an end.
As a Kid having a cold drink was fun. I still remember the time when my dad used to take me to Indian Coffee House, ordered a Special Dosa for me (with one Kaju, costed 14 Rs. then). He would order a filter coffee and watch me munch on the dosa. And then came the cold drink. Ahaa, that straw and that first sip was awesome. From Gold Spot to rarity of having coke, it was all fun. And yes The Green Boxed Frooti (Rs. 6) was awesome too.And there are moments which me, and a few others dont like that much, but it gives some sort of fun to others. Like, loud music, dark discos, late night drinking and talking sessions etc etc.
As a kid I loved having an ice cream. Didn't we always dream of a chocobar or a vanilla cup. It was so awesome when I went out with my family to have that. Maybe once a month, maybe once in 2 months. But it was awesome. Arun Ice cream's vanilla cups were the best :)
As a kid I loved ice cream. The best thing was Nirula's. Chocolate was simply the best. They used to give me one after I showed them my report card, and I also got coupon for my birthday :)
Those were the days. Sipping Beer, or whisky at Banshankari's famous hang-outs. Seshgiri or its not so far sister concern (codename: 3 gigolos :)). We got drunk, had chips from some HOT CHIPS, cold drinks from the same store, and then we talked...
and talked
and talked
a movie used to play, a guy used to enter kop-bhavan, 2 guys were always coding something on a red laptop which was hotter than a frying pan, and we ended up playing karaoke with Golmaal or discussing Nihilism, science fiction & indian cinema.
But then like today, there are awesome mornings to cover them all up, from disc-asur to Idli-esh. We had the best breakfast one can ever have to start the day, filter coffee, 5-6 types of idlis, 4 types of dosas, podi with oil, benne (white butter).
I know what kind of fun is best for me, and I will be back soon, as soon as this 2 year thing comes to an end.
Tuesday, February 16, 2010
Left Behind
Once upon a time, there used to be this colony of around 200 ants. They had been living together, happily for around a year and a half now next to a small river. There colony had the best stocks of food, good climatic conditions in the area, and above all great antz. They were fun loving and used to enjoy each other's company. They had fun in outings, in the functions and even the sports festival which they celebrated. Then came the day of the great rains which continued for a few days. The river overflowed and the ant colony came under threat. A group of 20 odd engineer ants created a bridge for the ants to cross the river safely. Slowly they started crossing & around 150 of them crossed the bridge to move towards safety. Rest were stuck on the island created due to rains & river as the bridge broke down after that. Still the team of around 20 kept on trying to recreate the bridge.
End 1:
Engineers kept trying to reconstruct the bridge with great difficulty. Rest of the ants who had crossed seldom cared. Few of them did, but some of them went away to their homes, some started playing sports- cricket & football & handball, some went for trips, & some just didn't care. Some kept on partying which the ants stuck on the other side used to witness. Even I sometimes attend those parties, & so do the other engineers. Every time the ants who had crossed partied the ants who were stuck felt sad. Few of them sent across signals of reassurance still the ants who were stuck were lost in hope. They were sad, and blamed their misery on fate.
Somewhere in those engineers, I felt really confused, & filled with guilt at times. Why it has to be this way? Couldn't we all be together. The bridge would be completed soon, and all of them would be able to cross, but why this indifference?
End 2:
Engineers got the help from the entire population of ants who had crossed. They worked day & night to help the rest of ants cross the river. The ants who were stuck felt reassured that the all their colony members are with them in this moment when they needed them the most. Although it took time for the bridge to complete still they were able to live through all this reassuringly.
Me and my team of engineers was happy looking at all of us working together in these tough moments.
There can be two ends, I know the way it is shaping now, and I also know the way we want it to end. Lets hope for the best.
End 1:
Engineers kept trying to reconstruct the bridge with great difficulty. Rest of the ants who had crossed seldom cared. Few of them did, but some of them went away to their homes, some started playing sports- cricket & football & handball, some went for trips, & some just didn't care. Some kept on partying which the ants stuck on the other side used to witness. Even I sometimes attend those parties, & so do the other engineers. Every time the ants who had crossed partied the ants who were stuck felt sad. Few of them sent across signals of reassurance still the ants who were stuck were lost in hope. They were sad, and blamed their misery on fate.
Somewhere in those engineers, I felt really confused, & filled with guilt at times. Why it has to be this way? Couldn't we all be together. The bridge would be completed soon, and all of them would be able to cross, but why this indifference?
End 2:
Engineers got the help from the entire population of ants who had crossed. They worked day & night to help the rest of ants cross the river. The ants who were stuck felt reassured that the all their colony members are with them in this moment when they needed them the most. Although it took time for the bridge to complete still they were able to live through all this reassuringly.
Me and my team of engineers was happy looking at all of us working together in these tough moments.
There can be two ends, I know the way it is shaping now, and I also know the way we want it to end. Lets hope for the best.
Saturday, February 13, 2010
कहानी २५ पैसे के बोरकुट की
On all those cycle journeys back from school me, my namesake and few more friends spent most of our time chit-chatting, drinking water from my Milton bottle and taking numerous stops. Strangely each stop and its activity was the same for years.
The school was some 15 mins from our home Krishna Vihar in morning (or even at 10 mins at times), but in afternoon it took us half hour or more. We had 3 stops, first in Yamuna Vihar (water drinking and discussion on girls and on latest Kaands in school stop), Kaveri Vihar Market (detour from our route, chedu's pravachan, his our fascinations of kimberly drummond (different strokes) & ms. winslet of titanic and experiments with sanskrit :)), and finally the borkut stop :D...
Borkut stop was our final frontier of freedom, 1Re coin helping us buy 4 of them, we were usually 3, so one for each and then carefully splitting the final pack in 3 parts. Or mixing borkut with aamkut and imlikut just at 25p :). Borkut is btw a pachak product made from Jungli Ber's power along with chatpata masala (like hajmola). Aamkut is amde form raw mango and imlikut from dried tamarind.
Those were the days were a rupee bought me that much pleasure. Jalebi in those days was Rs. 40 a kg and we were full in 5Rs.
And yesterday whn I stpped out with another of my namesakes we spent 98 Rs for 2 pieces of Jalebi and 2 Pieces of Gulaabjaamun. Oh I forgot 5ml of Rabdi which accompanied it. Felt bad, but world has changed.
And so have we...
The school was some 15 mins from our home Krishna Vihar in morning (or even at 10 mins at times), but in afternoon it took us half hour or more. We had 3 stops, first in Yamuna Vihar (water drinking and discussion on girls and on latest Kaands in school stop), Kaveri Vihar Market (detour from our route, chedu's pravachan, his our fascinations of kimberly drummond (different strokes) & ms. winslet of titanic and experiments with sanskrit :)), and finally the borkut stop :D...
Borkut stop was our final frontier of freedom, 1Re coin helping us buy 4 of them, we were usually 3, so one for each and then carefully splitting the final pack in 3 parts. Or mixing borkut with aamkut and imlikut just at 25p :). Borkut is btw a pachak product made from Jungli Ber's power along with chatpata masala (like hajmola). Aamkut is amde form raw mango and imlikut from dried tamarind.
Those were the days were a rupee bought me that much pleasure. Jalebi in those days was Rs. 40 a kg and we were full in 5Rs.
And yesterday whn I stpped out with another of my namesakes we spent 98 Rs for 2 pieces of Jalebi and 2 Pieces of Gulaabjaamun. Oh I forgot 5ml of Rabdi which accompanied it. Felt bad, but world has changed.
And so have we...
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)