commerce and communal harmony

Kallazhagar, the stone beauty, descends down in the Vaigai river during Chithirai festival. Azhagar, the incarnate of Lord Vishnu, is on his way to his sister Meenakshi's wedding with Lord Sundareswarar, incarnate of Lord Shiva.

Therefore, Madurai, the temple town, had Saivites and Vaishnavites. Basically, in conflict. Saivites should have come before. For Thiruvilayadal Puranam has scenes from this temple town during Sangam age (I am not sure of the history. Pity me and you for not knowing it).

Vaishnavites must have come later. I presume there was a bitter rivalry between these two major sects of Hinduism in those days itself.

If you dont know, Madurai and its surrounding areas have artistic as well as literary evidences of the massacre of the jain saints. Imaging piercing the jain priests straight on a spear of sword to kill them one by one. In Tamil, it is `kazhuvetram'. So, the fight between the two dominant communities must have been bitter.

When Thirumalai Nayakkar ruled the city, he desired the union of these two warring sects. A case study for communal harmony in the medieval history. He wanted to the commerce of the city to flourish. And conceived, the 51-day Chithirai festival. Celebrated till today.

Azhagar who was being worshipped in Cholavandan, 10 miles before Vaigai enters the city, was taken around to 353 mandapams to be brought to a specially constructed mandapam in Vandiyur, located at the tail end of the river in the city.

Madurai is still a large village, the market for produces from the south, west and east, comprising mainly of a well-oiled network of villages. During the 51 day celebration, at the end of harvesting, during the dry months, when farming will not be taken up, the villagers will gather in the city to bargain, barter and business.

How do you bring in communal harmony. The presiding deity Meenakshi's marriage was the only way. Azhagar was made her brother and was invited to come to her marriage. As he has to come down from the hill and cross the mighty Vaigai river, it takes a few days before which the marriage gets over. When he is half-way, crossing the river, he is told that the marriage is over.

Knowing not what to do, he loiters around and around the city. I am not sure where he goes back. May be back to the hill. There is nothing special to this whole thing. A brother is disappointed for not able to attend his sister's marriage. The speciality lies in bringing the two communities together.

It has to be mentioned that there is a *thulukka natchiar* (a muslim lady) and many other characters in the festival. I don't have the details now. I am sure there is still a lot we can learn from the past. From our great rulers.

Wonder-struck?!

bombing a village?

It was the first ever show by Suryakiran jets in this temple city. I just walked down to the virahanur dam for the show to begin. A day before, I had watched the rehersal from the bridge parallel to the dam and knew that the dam site offered a closer look.

Few women came with children in an auto. They were quite excited to see the red and white painted Kiran Mark II jets performing aerobatics in the sky.

A middle aged woman said, ``You know what? Yesterday was the shock of the life. Three planes targeted our colony repeatedly. When we saw it first, we were happy. When the planes that climbed up came down straight towards us, we were terrified,'' she said, still in a state of shock.

About forty women in the colony had no clue as to why the planes were targeting them. ``We thought some enemy planes were coming to bomb the village,'' said another woman. ``As the planes came down at high speed, we ran away from our homes to the shades of trees outside. Even there, the planes would not leave us. We kept running between our houses and trees,'' says a woman wearing a green saree. Now smiling.

``No one told us that the planes were rehearsing. I watch Sun News also. They also did not say anything,'' she rues. Later, as the planes did not bomb, the women said they came to a conclusion that the government was spraying mosquitoe repellent from the air to prevent chikungunya. ``There was a lot of smoke from the planes that filled our houses,'' a woman recalls vividly.

``For hour an hour, we were so terrified,'' said the green saree with big eggy-eyes. ``I would have even died of heart attack. How could we know that they were practising?,'' she asks, in all her ignorance. ``We have been watching planes (the descent to the airport begins over their village). But these planes were really fast,'' she said, now fully smiling.

The next day, for half an hour, yesterday's terrified villagers, watched the show with their wards, amused and amazed. In fact, the Surya Kiran's aerial ballet thrilled the residents of this temple city, still considered to be a large village grounded in nativity.

For one day, Madurai, that also worships film stars, came to knew the real heroes of this nation.

This land, with a brave cultural past, thought the daring pilots to be super-humans.

shocker...

I walked into my college again after a decade. As a visitor now. The entrance to the college itself has been changed. Now, the students have to enter through the sides. A banner reading `College Sports Day' warmed my heart after a long time.

As I walked in, I was looked as a stranger. The competitions had just been concluded and prize distributing ceremony was to begin a hour later. Boys and girls were talking to each other, freely. It was a common sight. During my college days, it was a rare sight. Most of the time, we used to speak only through the eyes and our smiles. Friendship flowered only in silence.

I just walked through the college. Went to my department and I remembered my first day in college. And the last day in the department. I could recognise some of the faculty but I did not want to talk to them or write about them now. None of them had inspired me in college.

Then I went around the swimming pool, our favourite jaunt, and went around the small campus and came back to the red-soiled smallish ground with two goal posts, with the principal's office and zoology department as the boundaries.

It was here my greatest moment in cricket happened a decade-and-half ago. Chemistry, captained by me and English, were to clash in the finals. In English, ten players, other than me, were in the college team. Four of them in the university! It was truly a match between Aussies and Irish (i like irish and scots, by the way).

We had a rookie paceman in a rameshwaram boy. With a fierce spell, he cleaned up the top order. I was fresh with the memories of the previous year, when a fine willow had despatched my offies to all the corners of the ground with disdain. This year, I was leading the team. I sized up the middle-order and we had a match on our hands.

When we batted, I dropped anchor as others cross-batted to the required run rate of six per over. My opening partner in college, keeping wickets, kept telling that I can be the hero of the day. The college, especially the girls, was there on the ground as cricket was popular even then. I was not fortunate to hit the winning runs.
I was bowled by my best friend with three runs to score in the last over.

The captain of the college, and the university, bowled the last over. Five dot balls. It was almost over. Then he made the mistake. He brought in the third man and bowled a bouncer. The dusky, lefty hooked it and the top edge flew to the third man boundary.

We had won. Not my team. That win gave Chemistry Department, the Championship for the first time in forty years of the college history. I had played my part by winning in tennis, badminton, table-tennis, hockey, soccer, high-jump, four into hundred relay. That rookie boy from rameshwaram and a muslim boy from arasaradi both bagged championships in athletics by winning golds in three events.

As a sportsman, that was the most memorable day in my life. On behalf of Chemistry, I received the trophy.

The first thing you will notice about me now is my paunchy beauty!

Not just women, also the men here most often fail to keep 'em fit.

A national shame.

flower flagrant

When I travel, I miss my camera. Eye can capture. Only for me. Not for others. I am back in the soul town, to the essence of living. I was wondering, as I kept travelling in busses between towns in this hillock-filled valley, how much I missed *malli* (jasmine). The fragrant flower.

There were this bony, blackish women looking fresh with a bunch of *malli*. They have always fascinated me for the freshness in their faces inspite of the innumerable household and farming work they do from dawn to dusk. When they come out of the homes to the towns, they are all cleaned up bright faced, eager, filled with enthusiasm, with an infant clinging on, spreading the fragrance of feminity.

I have failed to notice *malligai* in the mechanical life of my conservative city. Back here in the backyards of modern civilisation, I am back to my senses. As I took the ``dangling'' bus to the Village of Gods from my wife's Good Blacky hamlet, there were two women in the front seat. One with four strands of *malli* and the other with few strands of *malli*, a strand of *kanakambaram* (the orangy flower sans fragrance) and a fresh pink *rosa*.

Back in madurai, the home of malligai, typing these lines, I, with a 100 percent block in left nose, and 90 percent block in the right, still smell the fragrance. For those not part of the soul town, think of having a honeymoon here. With a bed full of fragrance and for a full life thereafter.

;-)

PS: The picture is not indicative of the beauty of malligai.

free at last

Parameshwaree as released Thursday at 10:00 a.m..

Discharge papers to release Mawbima journalist, Munusamy Parameswaree, 25, who was arrested on 22nd November under Prevention of Terrorism Act (PTA), and held for nearly four months, on suspicion of "helping the LTTE and a suspected suicide bomber," were sent Wednesday morning, by Harshika De Silva, State Counsel representing the Attorney General (AG), to Colombo chief Magistrate Court.

Parameswaree's friend, Ms Thambirajah Susanthi, is still in jail.

Copyright: Tamilnet.com

Few Definitions

Chris forwarded this to me... Not bad ... If you wonder who this Chris is, i will tell you someday...

Life Insurance: A contract that keeps you poor all your life so thatyou can die Rich.
Nurse: A person who wakes u up to give you sleeping pills.
Lecture: An art of transferring information from the notes of theLecturer to the notes of the students without passing through "the minds of either"
Conference: The confusion of one man multiplied by the number present.
Father: A banker provided by nature.
Criminal: A guy no different from the rest....except that he got caught.
Politician : One who shakes your hand before elections and your Confidence after.
Doctor : A person who kills your ills by pills, and kills you by bills.
Classic : Books, which people praise, but do not read.
Smile: A curve that can set a lot of things straight.
Yawn: The only time some married men ever get to open their mouth.
Experience : The name men give to their mistakes.
Atom Bomb: An invention to end all inventions.
Philosopher : A fool who torments himself during life, to be spoken of when dead.

-Dr.Bagirathan




__._,_.___

Age of Innocence

Of late, I have developed a desire to move away from this conservative city to a new city and new life. I feel like reaching the stagnation point at work. No inspiration at all. It is all too mundane and murky.

Then I will have to leave my loving ones behind for a few years. For we are not sure how the little one will adjust to new climates, be it bang or bomb or del. I would love to live in Cal, but may be later as I age. Not for now.

I will have to set out on my own. Whenever I am free from family, I have always worked hard and true. Still, the family lingers in me making me reluctant to leave them to work far away from home. But again, If experience is life, I have no new experiences.

I sleep with these thoughts.

Early last morning, I awoke to innocence. As it dawned, the white light seeped in with the wind through the flowery-curtained window with deep brown frames. The little one was fast asleep, in innocence.

I have the habit of looking at the faces of little ones all these years, especially early in the morning. I am not sure if I should post a picture here. May be my loving one will object. I am sure many of you, particularly the parents, have experienced a similar sight in your bedroom.

Baked in that white soft light, I have watched sleeping children for hours till the glow gets yellowish. I look at the mirror and I see no innocence. I take a look at others sleeping in home. It is not there.

Where have we lost our innocence? In the daily struggle for work and money or by living along wicked and greed; by thinking triviality or by consumerist senses; by forgetting the child in us or by the sheer hatred the humanity has accumulated. I am not sure.

And then a thought gently flowed into me. I imagined the soft light bathing the earth as it revolved ceaselessly. By now, the sun was bathing the sub-continent with his soothing light as it dawned early. For ages, the mornings have dawned on us in perfect innocence.

Our elders woke to it. May be, we are sleeping over that blissful innocence (of the morning). Are most of us not living in the darkest corners of our minds, living our deepest desires (not necessarily known to others) strung together by that ticking time? If you want to see the beauty of timelessness, watch the little ones sleeping blissfully in the mornings.

Then, I slowly sensed time. Vaguely, I think time too is innocent.

Eternally.

partying with salma hayek

When I told my father that I am off to a party, he was surprised. He knew I quit drinking long time before. And he happens to be the one who bailed me out twice before for street fights after a hard drink when in the university.

When I said I will be in the company of girls (drinking), he was kind of bewildered. I did not realise what was in store for me. As with most partying nights, it was a disastrous start. Few feet before the pub, the cop caught me talking over cell while driving.

No papers, no wallet. I had only the jean, t-shirt and mobile. No wonder my mom, wife and now my daughter call me absent minded prof.

Stood stupid for a short-while. Called salma as well as Sush to bail me out. Salma spoke to S, chief, T. ``Ask your friend to leave the vehicle and produce the documents and take it later.'' It did not work. With all respect to him, you cant expect him to call a constable! We had to apologise.

Somehow, sush got the local inspector to bail me out. I walked up the stairs. The burly (burmese?) guard before the pub stopped me straight. ``Shoes are compulsory for gentlmen, Sir''. This is not the Tamil country where lakhs walk bare foot. This is the new world.

Big B, the host, promising to show the changing chennai, came down to help. B's business card helped. Enter Z. It looked awful at first. For someone who hates girls smoking, there were many, many of them. As I sat down, a punjabi girl, dressed in pink, lighted a fag. Behind, to the left, a lean Iyer girl, slightly stoned, drew it in deeply and to the left, a saree clad young lady, was smoking in style.

It was a smoke filled room. It has been years. For someone who revelled in smoky rooms, this one was a bit different. Here, women were smoking harder than the handsome young men, looking little foolish. They were happy to hug the girls. I was not sure about their thinking talents.

Opposite, Salma was sitting with her vodhka and Big B with gin.

I switched side to have a better view of the whole room. Far right, two lovers were living to themselves. To the left, the man with one eye was helping the others in his table over the next drink. Apart from the smoke, the crowd was swinging to the beat. ``Pink Flyod,'' said Salma, once. I had no clue to the composers but the beats were swerving everyone of them.

It was an enjoyable evening in the company of changing culture. Only, the group opposite, the cultureless software pros, were shouting over their pharynx. Smoke, drink and music. A heady mix for talking sensitive and sensual things. Sounds spoil.

The cricket match on the big screen was another spoiler. It took away the companionship but gave way to loads of laughter and cheers as we and our sworn enemies were losing it badly. By now, the Lord has joined. It is amusing to observe his eagerness for a drink or two. I haven't seen his face lighting up often, except when he is offered a drink. For the record, he went home to wear a pair of shoe to dash down to the pub.

They had two drinks each. Salma was forced into the second. And swerved a lil bit at the end. I drank pineapple juice! Predicting the changes to come to this conservative city, Big B asked what will I do as a father (of a daughter). ``Will I police her?''

``I have no problems. As long as she doesn't hurts herself.'' I was not so sure later. For I, as a father, am not for my daughter to smoke or drink. From my experiences, read as mistakes, I am quite sure that there is no need for anyone to smoke or drink. But if life is a big party, why not a few times?

All four felt fine. Down, I saw Salma's friend hug a bearded bear a dozen times in half-a-dozen minutes. I have not been hugged a dozen times in all my half-life! And someone actually hugged (a reluctant) Salma. It is time to party, guys!!!

PS: Inspite of the fact that I was stinking of smoke till next morning, I loved the pub for one thing. Something precious lost quite a long time ago. Above all the smoke, smell and songs, what i loved last evening was the ambience. for friendship.

and may be for love, i suspect. for bold and beautiful symbolise change.

beyond boundaries

it will be interesting to know how governments work in irony.

beyond the boundary.
when the sri lankan navy continued to fire on tamil fishermen, the tamil government, led by the dmk, oranised a massive protest rally and gave a memorandum to the lankan government's representative in the city. we can't tolerate this human rights violation any more, he said. across the seas, there are thousands and thousands fighting for survival, all along he said we want india to help out. he has been saying this for ten months now. human rights violations continue to happen in the island nation non-stop. of course, it has been a long time we have heard someone terming mk as the leader of world tamils.

down here in the city. he has been talking about airport expansion. only talking and of course promising not to demolish constructed houses. where will come the green field airport then. oragadam or sriperumbudur? why not take up the land of the rich and politicians in the old mahabalipuram road. if you are going to have a six lane super high-way over there, then why not have your airport on that stretch? if the government is not for destroying the homes of the poor, then it is also not for taking over the land of the rich worth crores and compensate in lakhs. that could be for more dangerous than shifting the poor and lower middle class. wonder where will development come from.

you are free to spend my girl

It is now very clear that Chief Minister M Karunanidhi has given a blank cheque to his daughter Kanimozhi for the Chennai's folk festival Chennai Sangamam, that concluded amidst controversy.

The Government Order issued hurriedly on Feb 13, a week before the festival, virtually granted the Special Commissioner of Tourism to fund the initiative of Tamil Maiyam, of which Kanimozhi is the co-ordinator.

The GO No 20 allows the Tourism Special Commissioner to spend ``beyond the ceiling (of Rs 3 lakh)'' and send a statement of expenditure for an ``after-issue sanction''. Meaning, the government has directed the special commisioner approve of all the costs incurred after the event is over.

At the press meet, as well as afterwards, the organisers have been defending that the government only took care of the logisitics for the event and as such did not spend any money. Can MK order an audit?

Very unlikely. For the tired soul, as a father, can be proud of only his daughter to have his literary skills and his love for Tamil language. It need not be mentioned that the three sons are known rogues.

Sea of Serenity

I just finished reading Vikram Sarabhai - a life -

I am amazed. I expect you to.

First, we all know V was the inspiration behind our space programme. Last fortnight, Madhavan Nair, one of the rocket boys, talked about V's vision. Kalam's ignited mind will vouch for it.

Two, V founded the Physical Research Laboratory. Of which not many of us have any idea.

Three, V founded IIM-Ahmedabad. Ironically, to train managers for our own country.

Four, V founded ORG. The first market research group.

Five, V founded ATIRA (I guess i am right). It is the research body for textiles in Ahmedabad.

Six, personally he created the Sarabhai Chemicals from scratch.

I think I have forgotten one or two.

Virkam was the first one to talk of using television for education (not entertainment).

And, Till now, V seems to be the only one in DAE to have resisted the temptation for n-bombs.

Truly a visionary. Like many, I also thought why he died early. We missed out.

Salutes to the Sarabhai spirit.

Hope such spirits haunt a new generation.

By the way, a huge crater in the Sea of Serenity in the Moon has got Vikram Sarabhai's name.

agri universities...

ha!

No one expected the national budget to be such a stupid one. Headlines scream Advantage Farm Inc. It is truly suggestive of things happening here. Slowly, the Inc-s are going to take over the farm lands.

The small farmers can committ suicide. The marginal farmers can sell their land to the big farmers and may be to the corporates. Already, the corporates have started eating the dry lands (waste lands). Reliance and Co are into the retail chain.

Paddy cultivation is going down. The farmers want only money and so are happy to go for cash rich crops. Or they are prepared to use whatever prescribed for better yield. There is no fixed price for the produces. The markets determine everything. And now we have the online commodity exchange!

And the states are subtly inching towards GM rice without strictly following the bio-safety rules. The water wars are becoming acute. No national river policy in place. And the budget's thrust is on agriculture, aam admi. Pure politics.

Hope the government comes up with support structures to really reach the farmers and lift them up. Meanwhile, agriculture is a state subject. And the states will waste money like the water wasted by the farmers.

And TN Agri University has got Rs 50 crore. VC feels that they should have given 50 more. Two years ago, I spent time with few deans of the varsity. Except the extension guy, the other two easily accepted that they were working in the interests of the big farmers!

Uday's transfer...

It has come as a surprise. All of a sudden, Madurai Collector T Udayachandran has been shifted to Erode. Uday was the man who was solely responsible for the successful elections in the three reserved panchayats in the last decade.

Fittingly though, one of the presidents said he would self-immolate if Uday is transferred. But Uday has been replaced by Erode collector Karthikeyan. The panchayat presidents have been pacified.

But why was Uday transferred? It should be recalled that Uday, as the MD of ELCOT, was the one who refused to sign in the Singapore real estate deal in Siruseri IT Park when AIADMK was in power. Put under compulsory wait, Uday got married and waited till the DMK returned to power.

Collectorship of Madurai was to appreciate his honesty. The only problem in the posting was that the collector had to deal with the CM's uncrowned son of the south. Inspite of it, Uday survived, solely for the reason he was able to reintroduce democracy, even if it is farce, in the three reserved panchayats.

Predictably, Uday got close to the Communists, without whom it might not have been possible. It started irritating the CM's second son. Secondly, Uday was the only officer in the temple city not to greet the second son on his birthday. Even the CM came down to wish him. It was then, the present transfer was decided.

Of late, Uday was also not signing in papers sent by the second son. So, the shift. Uday, away from the hot seat, will be happy to move into the quietness of Erode in the days to come.

hey girl, i'm sorry

This is the latest joke going around in the Anna University campus. The Dean of Guindy Engineering College, a softspoke man, was irritated as the sweeper lady was not doing her duty properly for sometime. Few days ago, he tore her apart for not keeping the place clean. As an afterthought, the Dean apologised to her. She was surprised. He said: ``Sorry, Who knows, may be you will become the vice chancellor of the university soon!'' Now, the Anna University vice chancellor D Viswanathan, also thought to be an extremely uncapable fellow for the job, also knows the joke. Only he may not smile.

the common university bill

So, the Pro Chancellor, the State Education Minister, has drafted a Common University Bill, 2007. (CUB7). The Tamil Nadu State Council for Higher Education, a toothless body, with retired academicians, as the head has drafted CUB7. For administrative convenience.

Remeber that it is about higher education. Page one says we need to change the system. Ok. And it says the bill talks about seven things. First, it will be subjected to periodical updation. Fine. The next six points talk about appointments. Appointments only. From vice chancellors to almost the peons. It has a place for a new post, pro vice chancellor now. Remember that the Pro has failed miserably to make money out of VC appointments till now.

Academic council and senate will be merged into academic senate. Tom, dick and harry, meaning politicians, journalists and panchayat fellows find representation in it. I cant think of these fellows, nominated, contributing to the cause of education.

Syndicate will no more be elected. Already, they are the puppets of the vice chancellors. In the new act, there will be only two elected representatives. all others are basically nominated by this or that.

Besides, the TANSCHE has the over riding powers to take any university as it likes by making inspections. As far as I know, it only has that good old member secretary dusting off the files, with a couple of clerks, as and when he likes.

Moreover, the university professors can be booked under IPC (some section, i think its 21) and may be arrested in the premises and jailed later, I suppose. There are many more sections. All about administration and appointments.

Not even a page for curriculum development, faculty improvement, introducing UG courses at the universities, enhancing the sources of funding, research impetus and so on. Are these the criteria that a state has to look to in terms of higher education.

The verdict is: The CUB7 is not about education per se. It is all about control.

vice chancellors!

The new government in power has got it terribly wrong. All the vice chancellors appointed till date have been political postings.

The first to get the post, in Bharatiar University in Coimbatore, paid Rs 41 lakhs. Through the chief minister's first son. Now, wherever he goes, he proudly recalls how he fell at the feet of chief minister, who was kind enough to give him his tamil books to be translated. Foolish, he also admits that he felt stupid when the President asked him about the books, in linguistics, he had presented to His Excellency.

The one at the varsity celebrating 150 years has paid half C. He got it through the union shipper and the state planner. His ultimate aim is to get into that maritime university. That is something of a money at 100 C. For that half a C is peanut.

Again, the latest to have been posted as the technical vice chancellors have also rumoured to have paid big. The personal secretary, who was the ``doctoral guide'' to several eminent personalities like the governor's personal secretary for 11 years, the president of the self-financing engineering colleges, who's stupid enough to flaunt his fluency in spoken english, to name a few, has paid a cool 1 C.

all in the name of education. Poor pro-chancellor got nothing for him. So he has a plan.

Continued Tomorrow...

Things That Never Change

1. Parents will never change. My sis-in-law had come down with her son. She said to us and must be to everyone down here, ``Shakti will study in Hardvard. Right Shakti?''. Never mind that MIT is close to her house also.

2. Many ask me why women like me. May be, there are very few to listen to women, relate to their feelings and basically respect them for what they are. As often I used to, I think women, inspite of their intelligence and intellect, are still foolish.

3. I think I will contiue to be lazy and at times concerned, not abt me, but abt others. I watched Bharathi this afternoon.

Conquering Cricket - The Case of Shane and Glen

I have for long wanted to write cricket. I think history can't present me with a perfect opportunity ever.
For Warne will not be walking up to the crease to tweak and twirl the cherry, teaching valuable lessons in orbital motions to space scientists.
Likewise, Glen will no more measure up gently towards the popping line to send 'em down straight with an ever-upright seam, a real-time simulation in parallel physics.
After Sydney, the world, and not just the Aussies, will miss two of the greatest bowlers to have born Down Under. Two simple cricketers with the simplest of actions and the simplest of mission. Bowl them out.
If not for Glen and Warne, Australia could never have dominated the cricketing world for a decade-and-half.
Of course, the batters were always there led by the indomitable Steve, the sulky Taylor, elegant Mark, powerful Ponting, one hell of a Hayden and Gilly, the thunder-bat. There were a few more like the lusty Langer and meditative Martyn in a line up so dominant that redefined the very essence of batting into one of aggression and attack. In fact, 400 runs on day one has become so common with these villainous willows being wielded around across continents.
But batting is not all that counts. Winning lies in wicket taking. And Australia relied primarily on wily Warne's magic to make the cherry turn by more than fifty degrees, even on flat tops, and magnificent Mc Grath's single-minded devotion to a single-line, searching an invisible fourth stump.
Two great bowlers with two contrasting styles, yet yielding the desired result. Victory. A word synonymous with Cricket Australia. Like all, they were also rookies to start with.
I still remember Warne's debut against India in his home turf Melbourne. Ravi Shastri clobbered him around the huge park. The blonde leggie, feeling the big stage for the first time, with the vaseline on his nose, showed that he had a huge heart. The 18-year old's face clearly showed the frustration in failing to nail his first victim. After making a double century, Shastri stroked one gently back to the blonde. Warne was born.
No one watching that match then must have thought that Shane, the blonde, will be the first to reach the 700 wicket mark, unimagined in those days and unbelievable even now. Speedsters like Hadlee, Kapil and Botham all would have settled somewhere around 500.
Even now, any bowler in operation will settle with 500, extremely satisified. Not Warne. And his spin-twin, Mutiah Muralitharan, the one and only offie, whose wish is to have a thousand of 'em in the bag.
Warne firmly believes and has admitted openly that Murali will be the first and perhaps the only one to achieve a thousand in test cricket. I sincerely feel that these two great spinners of all time to come, with a very bad habit of wanting to see the backs of batters, have elevated themselves to a plane higher than even the extra-ordinary. Their's is a league of super-naturals. Reminded of Pistol Pete and Roger the Romancer playing in an entirely different planet of tennis?
Not to be left behind by the spinners, the machine like McGrath has been tirelessly trail-blazing the cause of the faster kind in cricket. Glen is more special than the two spinners. For I feel, No batsman has ever conquered the Pidgeon. Save for the Laxman – Dravid partnership in erstwhile Calcutta for a whole day.
Even the greatest batsmen of our time Sachin and Lara have not had the measure of his line and length even after nearly two decades and after close to fifty thousand runs in cricket. Glen is in a league of his own with discipline as the first and last word.
We will write about Murli when time necessitates. But Warne has been conquered. For he has had trouble in the sub-continent. While he has foxed Pakistanis, a master class in tackling spin, the Windies, the Kiwis, the Africans and not to forget the English, his bunnies, Warne will have nightmares when he lands in the sub-continent of spin.
Indians, save for Rahul the Wall, have somehow retained the psychological advantage against the versatile spinner by beginning to attack right from the word go. Images of Sidhu, Kambli and Jadeja going down the track to nullify the spin are there in our memories. So are Tendulkar's cross-sweeps and pulls, Laxman's wristy flicks and on-drives to Warne's frustration.
Only occasionally, Warne will feel that off-stump pitching it in leg. May be, Warne tried too much to spin in the land of spinners. We will know more about his agonies when he comes commentating sometime later.
The burning desire to take on the best batsmen all around the world and the will to conquer as a part of an invincible team has made the duo legends in international cricket. It is straightaway saddening to think that we will no more be watching the two in action.
Glen will be there till the world cup wanting to sign out in glory. I just had a look at his debut picture. Cricinfo has it from Getty Images. He is not that. He has travelled far but on a very straight road.
But to watch Warne, we will have to go back to the footages. Especially to that ball of the century when Gatting watched it all mutely. And may be, he is still watching it even now with disbelief.
Or may be, take the flight to Hampshire and watch Warne lead and bowl them over after over in those county grounds, radiant in rays of a late summer noon, with a gentle breeze flowing, sipping a very English tea.
May be, Warne wanted to end it all that way. Away from the media, away from his
femme fans and away from his own proud self. A flamboyant spinner's splending
farewell to what they call the game of gentlemen. In innocence and bliss.

Tailpiece: It is not fair to talk about the personal lives of these two great bowlers. I have to here. For there is a lesson for everyone. While Warne's fantasy for love goes on breaking hearts all around, especially of Simone and three children; Glen will always be by the side of Jane, of whom cancer cells are very fond of. A foundation of love.

over dinner...

It was over dinner that a few doctoral students revealed us the reasons for the lack of scientific temper among the youth of today. They were all pursuing Ph.D in bio-technology in Universities in North India.

The conversation started with the simple question if the distinguished fellows were at the Indian Science Congress to present papers. ``It will take twenty years for us,'' the reply shot back from one of those girls. All their professors were presenting papers, of course.

The girls, and the one boy, were highly respectful of their professors. ``Without them we are nowhere,'' they said very clearly. They were not presenting papers but were putting up posters. I am not sure what poster presentation could Ph.Ds in bio-technology make.

Inspite of the highest degree in a high-end technology, the girls were not sure of a career in the nation. ``The companies start with a salary of 25 k. Which is nothing but stupid,'' said the girl from Delhi university. That's what a fresh eng. grad gets in an IT company.

Not many of them were interested in moving out. They all liked this country and want to stay back. But will they? It is likely that they, even if reluctantly, move out for greener pastures. Because there are neither the labs, both public and private, to put their knowledge into practise nor a rewarding system in place.

We still can boast and believe in that the next R&D hub of the world is India. Leaving the professional aspect, the highly matured girls said they have to counter personal problems like late marriage. ``By the time you finish doctorate, you feel you are too wise to marry,'' said the girl from Patiala.

The question is: ``Why is it that it always takes at least 4 years for a Ph.D in India?'' In my mind, not many academicians have looked at this simple question. We still have a system in which a student has to go to college for a decade to obtain a doctorate in any discipline.

At least these girls were priviledged to have good professors. There are thousands of girls tortured by the very learned men guiding them in their thesis in this very same nation that often proudly states that it respects women very highly.

Back to the point. If research in life science is gonna be the key to future, including the markets, what do we have to keep these girls who wanna live here. The scientists are there. Only the system is not there.

If the problem can be identified over dinner in a sultry southern town, then it can also be simple to set the system right. I am not sure how many dinners it will take. Or may be, we may just be happy eating dinners.

Planet Earth

Even if you have never learnt science or really understood physics or for that matter chemistry, the subject you graduated from, it is possible for you to cover a science congress. To top it, two nobel laureates in Chemistry are going to give public lectures. And I am to report them for the people. I think I should have at least made an effort to listen those chemistry lectures a decade ago.

So, here we are, two of us, who seldom care for themselves, to write about the 94th edition. It started with a press meet in which the speaker will not answer specific questions. As everyone could see that, it is another science congress. Neither the youth is there nor the funds are there. For two years, the nation can't have a tsunami warning system in place. This is a nation that knew about tsunami after the tidal waves claimed thousands of lives.

So, Science has never been in our genes. We can be proud to possess spiritiual genes, of late a bit mutated, if you will agree to that. The theme though is going to be the talk of the century. It is pretty much difficult to say if talks materialise into actions.

Let's face the fact. One by one. With one or at best two instances to explain each one.

Energy Security:
Only recently we have mortgauged ourselves for nuclear energy. The United States has at last set its foot on the sub-continent. Unlike the commercial colas that came first, the nuke deal should be considered as a strategy of Uncle Sam in South Asia. Is it another victory for Pak diplomacy or at last a victory for Indian diplomats? Pretty tough to tell. Accepted that Oz will also supply enough nuclear fuel for us for a century to come. If the West is finding it difficult to dispose nuclear waste, what about us? Where will Planet Earth, here Mother India, do?

Mineral Resources:
I have no idea of this. This is the land that sold thorium from its western sands for a long time without the knowledge of it. Now, Orissa will be mined in and out. What will happen to the original tribals? When we talk of Planet Eart, or we not talking about its children. Related to nukie, when the west was looking to improve its coal usage efficient, why are we turning nuke?

Water Resources:
The Ultimate Question to us. Wheter to interlink or leave the rivers to run their natural course. Let us ask why have we never thought of nationalising water resources? May be we are waiting for a civil war by the middle of this century.

Ocean Resources:
Ocean is there around the peninsula. Not one effective desalination plant! Not many know of the marine biological park. And not many cared for fisherfolk, till the tsunami came calling. Shrimp culture is spoling the coast. The chemical industry is slowly moving in for the kill. Science has never been put to good use here.

Monsoon Forecast:
The joke of the summer monsoon has always been that whenever the MET says it will rain it will not and whenever it says it will not, it will certainly.

Natural Hazards:
I have no idea of this. I only wonder how nature can be a hazard. If we are talking of disaster managements, then we probably are the worst in the world.

Waste Management:
Supreme Court fixed March, 2003 as the last date for corporation to implement solid waste management. Here we are in 2007. Have we?

Education:
From this same university from where i type, five lads came to my office. M.A in English. They can't speak the language my daughter in KG could speak. I have nothing more to say, except to tell you to go back to the first para of the blog.

to be continued...