tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-137858222024-03-10T01:24:34.799-08:00Ninaivugal...ThoughtsFace is the index of the mind and the mind is always preoccupied with thoughtsPraveen Krishnanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07066449552055203870noreply@blogger.comBlogger34015tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13785822.post-85966357247626537532021-01-20T23:24:00.006-08:002021-01-20T23:24:56.865-08:00Gabba 2001<p><span style="color: #292929; font-family: charter, Georgia, Cambria, "Times New Roman", Times, serif; font-size: 21px; letter-spacing: -0.003em;">Some iconic moments in Indian cricket post 2000 are etched forever— Kolkata 2001, Headingley 2002, Adelaide 2003, Perth 2008 and Melbourne 2018. Now, Brisbane/Gabba 2021 joins the pantheon as one of the greatest, if not the greatest, of all time.</span></p><p class="hf hg fo hh b hi hz hj hk hl ia hm hn ho ib hp hq hr ic hs ht hu id hv hw hy dc ec" data-selectable-paragraph="" id="c307" style="box-sizing: inherit; color: #292929; font-family: charter, Georgia, Cambria, "Times New Roman", Times, serif; font-size: 21px; letter-spacing: -0.003em; line-height: 32px; margin: 2em 0px -0.46em; word-break: break-word;">There is a raw emotion when it comes to sport. Just like the<span id="rmm" style="box-sizing: inherit;"> </span>way you can’t fake humor, you can’t fake emotion in sport. What you see is what you get? At the end of the day, when the team that you support achieves the desired result, the overlapping of emotions between the players and the fans is something that can only be experienced by people who play or follow live sport. The oohs and the aahs of near misses transform from instant grief to a lifelong obsession of <span class="ie" style="box-sizing: inherit; font-style: italic;">what ifs</span> visualizing alternate endings. Chennai 1999 was one for the ages and the trauma of that result has had long term repercussions in my thought process. That game shattered my confidence and did not allow me to take anything for granted in life.</p><p class="hf hg fo hh b hi hz hj hk hl ia hm hn ho ib hp hq hr ic hs ht hu id hv hw hy dc ec" data-selectable-paragraph="" id="33aa" style="box-sizing: inherit; color: #292929; font-family: charter, Georgia, Cambria, "Times New Roman", Times, serif; font-size: 21px; letter-spacing: -0.003em; line-height: 32px; margin: 2em 0px -0.46em; word-break: break-word;">The 2020–2021 series between India and Australia will go down as one of the greatest series of all time. The constant ebbs and flows between two proud sporting nations produced a series for the ages. The depleted Indian side took all the adversities in its stride and produced a stirring fight against world class Australian bowlers in their den. India had no business saving that match at Sydney. India had no business chasing that total at the Gabba. But then, India had no business getting demolished for 36 at Adelaide. From the ravages and ruins emerged players, one by one, doing things that felt as though they were individual pieces fitting themselves into a giant jigsaw puzzle. No batters, no problem, let’s pick someone from the rubble; no bowlers, again, no problem, let’s get the net bowlers to do the job. Every man for every occasion couldn’t have been more apt than in this case.</p><p class="hf hg fo hh b hi hz hj hk hl ia hm hn ho ib hp hq hr ic hs ht hu id hv hw hy dc ec" data-selectable-paragraph="" id="bafa" style="box-sizing: inherit; color: #292929; font-family: charter, Georgia, Cambria, "Times New Roman", Times, serif; font-size: 21px; letter-spacing: -0.003em; line-height: 32px; margin: 2em 0px -0.46em; word-break: break-word;">Adelaide, Melbourne, Sydney and Brisbane. Four iconic Australian venues. India blown our for 36 in the second innings of Adelaide. Just to have the mental fortitude to come back from that point, leaving behind a truck load of negative baggage, losing their talismanic player and captain, Virat Kohli and one of the best new-ball bowlers in the world, Mohammed Shami, and then putting in that performance at Melbourne, no words can do justice. Then came the resilience at Sydney, thanks to Ashwin and Vihari. What came next at the Gabba was truly inexplicable. It was a great win because of the invincibility of the Aussies here. Playing probably a third choice team against a full strength Australian team and having to negotiate a tricky fourth innings chase at 4 runs per over on an up and down pitch with the series on the line is no easy feat. How the Indians pulled it off, I don’t know, if this can ever be explained over time.</p><p class="hf hg fo hh b hi hz hj hk hl ia hm hn ho ib hp hq hr ic hs ht hu id hv hw hy dc ec" data-selectable-paragraph="" id="b95d" style="box-sizing: inherit; color: #292929; font-family: charter, Georgia, Cambria, "Times New Roman", Times, serif; font-size: 21px; letter-spacing: -0.003em; line-height: 32px; margin: 2em 0px -0.46em; word-break: break-word;">Pujara plays according to the conventional norms of test cricket. Slow, defensive, play the new ball and protect the lower order batters from facing the new ball. I don’t know whether he frustrated the viewers but for sure he frustrated the Australian commentators. I understand fans raise the issue of his slow scoring rate but the fact that the experts were confounded was what was truly confounding. Pant on the other hand doesn’t play according to the conventional norms of test cricket. He has a Sehwagisque approach to batting. Oh his day, he can really turn the match on its head. On other days, you just have to live with his chivalry. He wouldn’t want to be on Twitter on those days. In the fourth innings of the Gabba Test, it was the former Pant. Some of the shots that he played were just outrageous. It might have come across as outlandish to the viewer, but Pant backed himself to get those runs. Even if one of those shots had gone to the fielder, he would have been derided. And there exactly is the fine margin between praise and derision.</p><p class="hf hg fo hh b hi hz hj hk hl ia hm hn ho ib hp hq hr ic hs ht hu id hv hw hy dc ec" data-selectable-paragraph="" id="06d2" style="box-sizing: inherit; color: #292929; font-family: charter, Georgia, Cambria, "Times New Roman", Times, serif; font-size: 21px; letter-spacing: -0.003em; line-height: 32px; margin: 2em 0px -0.46em; word-break: break-word;">Years of watching early morning images from Australia with huge disappointment, the 1999 tour had set such low expectations that I thought it will take decades to recover from that trauma. Then, the 2000s gradually changed that picture. The Indian team got folks who did not have the scars of previous Australian tours. India-Australia rivalry became something to look forward to. Slowly and steadily, we took the fight to the Australian camp before it culminated in a series win in 2018 in Australia for the very first time. But, it was always referred to as Australia minus Smith and Warner. All those doubts were negated in a pulsating series that culminated in a sensational finish at the Gabba. It was literally an Indian B team or a C team defeating the full strength Australian team. The Aussies know it too.</p><p class="hf hg fo hh b hi hz hj hk hl ia hm hn ho ib hp hq hr ic hs ht hu id hv hw hy dc ec" data-selectable-paragraph="" id="8e42" style="box-sizing: inherit; color: #292929; font-family: charter, Georgia, Cambria, "Times New Roman", Times, serif; font-size: 21px; letter-spacing: -0.003em; line-height: 32px; margin: 2em 0px -0.46em; word-break: break-word;">The net result in sport rests on super fine margins. The difference between a wretched heave over mid-wicket and a well timed shot over mid-wicket decides whether the player gets the brickbats or the bouquets. <span class="ie" style="box-sizing: inherit; font-style: italic;">Oh, he played his natural game and that cost us the game. Oh, he played his natural game and that helped us win the game. Oh, why try to clear the ropes when there was a fielder placed for that exact shot. Oh, the audacity to clear the rope even with a fielder present on the boundary line. </span>Decision making is an invaluable trait in life, and in sport in particular. There are no two-way door decisions in sport. A split-second decision in sport goes through a lifetime of analyses. Some people ponder till they die and I don’t know, maybe, these folks can never be successful in sport.</p><p class="hf hg fo hh b hi hz hj hk hl ia hm hn ho ib hp hq hr ic hs ht hu id hv hw hy dc ec" data-selectable-paragraph="" id="c3f7" style="box-sizing: inherit; color: #292929; font-family: charter, Georgia, Cambria, "Times New Roman", Times, serif; font-size: 21px; letter-spacing: -0.003em; line-height: 32px; margin: 2em 0px -0.46em; word-break: break-word;">There is a certain magic in live sport that is unmatched. There is no secretly peeking at the last few pages of a thriller to figure out the ending. There is no Googling to find out the outcome. The magic unfolds with time. Every session was a mystery. India remained in contention never allowing that required run rate to creep up. The nerve wracking moments were juxtaposed with periods of bravado but the target was so steeply perched that the end result wasn’t clear even as the required run rate slowly crept towards 5 runs per over. Multiple chats on WhatsApp groups were going off at the same time. No one knew what was to come.</p><p class="hf hg fo hh b hi hz hj hk hl ia hm hn ho ib hp hq hr ic hs ht hu id hv hw hy dc ec" data-selectable-paragraph="" id="720c" style="box-sizing: inherit; color: #292929; font-family: charter, Georgia, Cambria, "Times New Roman", Times, serif; font-size: 21px; letter-spacing: -0.003em; line-height: 32px; margin: 2em 0px -0.46em; word-break: break-word;">As the winning runs were scored, it felt like a personal achievement. I let out a full throttled roar. Congratulatory messages were being exchanged with friends from all over the world. We celebrated as one. The magnitude of what was achieved will surely reverberate for decades to come. This victory will certainly be a fairy tale for generations to come. I just took a deep sigh and was thankful that I was alive to see the greatest series of all time. It was certainly one for the ages.</p>Praveen Krishnanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07066449552055203870noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13785822.post-26176109669369942172020-11-15T21:38:00.000-08:002020-11-15T21:38:33.108-08:00Hike or no hike<p><span style="font-family: inherit;"> It was Sunday evening. As usual, things were not on a level plane. The kids were yelling their throats out as though we had not provided them food for days. They had eaten an apple just about thirty minutes ago. At one stage, I had given up trying to understand these three feet creatures. They had their way with almost everything in our lives. I turned to my wife. </span></p><div></div><div><span style="font-family: inherit;">"What now?", I asked.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div><div></div><div><span style="font-family: inherit;">"They have not had any outdoor activity. They need to exercise, run, and go around. We can't just keep them at home", my wife said with so much confidence that I thought if I had ten percent of that confidence, I would be successful with anything in life. </span></div><div><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div><div></div><div><span style="font-family: inherit;">I shook my head out of habit before I recomposed myself to actually understand what it was that she said before shaking my head orthogonally in all directions. </span></div><div><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div><div></div><div><span style="font-family: inherit;">"Next week, we go hiking", I said to everyone and no one in particular.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div><div></div><div><span style="font-family: inherit;">So, this weekend, I took the kids for a hike in the morning. </span></div><div><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div><div></div><div><span style="font-family: inherit;">My wife said, "No point in both of us going out with the kids today. Let me finish up some chores. Let me bring some sanity to the place." </span></div><div><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div><div></div><div><span style="font-family: inherit;">I said, "Sure, no problem."</span></div><div><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div><div></div><div><span style="font-family: inherit;">To be honest, the hike was a lot of fun; Akhil and Sahana really enjoyed the hike. I structured the hike to be at a sweet spot around three or four miles. I thought that would be the optimum limit before the parents start throwing a tantrum (when the kids throw a tantrum, it's just a matter of time before the parents join the humdrum).</span></div><div><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div><div></div><div><span style="font-family: inherit;">After we come back home, with the kids pretty much exhausted, I was expecting them to have a rather subdued rest of the day. But, on the contrary, they were more active than ever. By the end of the day, we were pretty much famished.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div><div></div><div><span style="font-family: inherit;">Now, my wife with her confidence maxed out says, "I don't think you should have taken them out for a hike. They are exhausted."</span></div><div><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div><div></div><div><span style="font-family: inherit;">Again, I nodded, as though in a trance and this time so exhausted that I didn't even care whether the content had any merit.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div><div></div><div><span style="font-family: inherit;">Ultimately, this is what everything transpires to. Kids are restless all the time food or no food, hike or no hike, toys or no toys, rain or sunshine, happy or sad, tired or fresh, friends or no friends, school or no school - really like that Prahaladan story <span style="background-color: white; caret-color: rgb(20, 23, 26); color: #14171a; white-space: pre-wrap;">where Hiranyakashyapu poses so many conditions to </span><span style="background-color: white; caret-color: rgb(20, 23, 26); color: #14171a; white-space: pre-wrap;">Brahma</span>).</span></div>Praveen Krishnanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07066449552055203870noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13785822.post-48355984184974123922018-06-02T16:39:00.000-07:002018-06-02T16:39:19.814-07:00The insecurities<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
Akhil loves storytelling time. He imagines a multitude and wants to convey a million things. It's fascinating how blissfully he con construct something totally random and make sense of it. There is a Neato cleaning robot at home which Akhil is super scared of and so we have carefully hidden it. Every bedtime ritual involves something about this robot. <br />
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Appa, tell me Neato stoiee (story).<br />
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First, it went along the lines of, "Akhil pressed the Neato button. The Neato went near Akhil's kaal (feet), Akhil got scared and so Appa pressed the button, and the Neato went back to the charging station."<br />
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After some time, who pressed the Neato button was a game by itself. Sometimes, it was a dinosaur; sometimes, it was his friend, Mukund. Sometimes, Akhil was the savior in comforting everyone who was scared of the Neato. <br />
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Storytelling has evolved over time. It used to be me leading him on a story. I used to frame whatever imagination I had in conveying the subject matter. It would be about space rockets, space aliens, ghosts on paw patrol, aeroplanes, trains, boats, sharks, dinosaurs and so on. Nowadays, he leads the story. I just provide the fillers. We go wherever the story leads. We go to a different planet and find dinosaurs attacking us. So, to escape the dinosaurs, we rush into the spaceship and get back to see the space aliens playing football. We then press the red button to get back on Earth. It's kind of fascinating.<br />
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We went to India in February. There, Akhil found a friend, Mukund. So, whatever insecurities Akhil has, Mukund takes over. It's not Akhil who is scared of Neato, but it's Mukund. It's not Akhil running away from dinosaurs, but it's Mukund. Akhil is the one who is rescuing everyone around. Akhil just distances himself from the fears and puts the blame on Mukund. <br />
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Akhil wants to climb a big fire truck, but is afraid that he'll slip and fall. He transfers this fear to Mukund to see if he'll climb the truck or not. <br />
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So, storytelling now has become more or less a game as to how much Akhil can conquer his insecurities through Mukund. I just play along to see how far this goes. </div>
Praveen Krishnanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07066449552055203870noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13785822.post-35708212012903802532018-04-23T23:32:00.001-07:002018-04-23T23:32:19.538-07:00Visualizing the moment<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
The days fly by so fast these days that it's so hard to keep track of them. Every other day is more or less the same, and the differentiating factors are governed usually by the daily monotonies. "Oh, it's a Tuesday. I have to take my son to the swimming class." Every day has a set routine. Monday to Friday is fast, and the weekends go by faster. Our days are dictated by our kids. One of them is shouting and the other is running around. Or, it's both shouting and both running. Let's make it even better. It's the four of us shouting and running around. My wife and I would literally be at our wits end. It's not easy managing two kids. <div>
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Friday was a slow day. Mom was late from work. Dad was busy playing with the kids in the backyard. After finishing our dinner, we were just hanging around. I was sitting on the couch with my laptop. Akhil came and sat next to me. </div>
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"Appa, what you doing?", asked Akhil with absolutely no regard to grammar or to anything in life at this point.</div>
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"I am going to play some songs by <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/M._S._Subbulakshmi" target="_blank">MS</a> Paati. Do you want to listen?"</div>
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He nodded quite unsure of what exactly I was hinting at. </div>
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So, I played my usual favorite, <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gsjHwzibQkc" target="_blank">Bhavayami Gopalabalam</a> and this Annamacharya Kriti can bring even the notorious stoic to display emotions.</div>
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Akhil sat in silence absorbing the music around him. I put my arm around him as he snuggled comfortably looking intently at the laptop.</div>
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"Who is this paati?", asked Akhil.</div>
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This is MS paati, I reiterated. (paati means grandma)</div>
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Then, we moved on to <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Bzs2o8rZQ9E" target="_blank">Brochevarevarura</a>, which is another classic. </div>
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My wife was at the dinner table looking at both of us, wondering if she was in some kind of an alternate universe. Being at peace at home is not something that happens even occasionally. Here we were, not only sitting quietly but also appreciating some heavenly Carnatic music.</div>
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When we dispersed for the evening after the renditions, I was somehow overcome with emotion. I told me wife, "If I have to visualize life with family and kids, this is the moment. A quiet evening with father and son bonding over MS Subbulakshmi's wonderful Carnatic music, mom watching from the sidelines and little sister in a blissful sleep, is a moment that will forever be etched in memory."</div>
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If there is something called as simple happiness, this is what it would be, I thought to myself.</div>
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There was something beautiful in those moments. I am sure this is just one of many.</div>
</div>
Praveen Krishnanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07066449552055203870noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13785822.post-82850649569954083162018-03-29T23:06:00.001-07:002018-03-29T23:08:56.436-07:00The values<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
I was in high school and my brother was in elementary school when financial turmoil hit our family. Every family has its ups and downs, and we were in the midst of a downward spiral. Our father was going through some difficult business moments. Nowadays, the phrase "living paycheck to paycheck" is used loosely, but those days, we could really see how that affected our lives. It was a baptism into real world issues and problems. Our mother made sure that my brother and I understood the value of money. There was no way we would spend anything more than required. We wouldn't even ask for something that was out of the norm. We knew what was within our means and what wasn't.<br />
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But there was one thing that our parents never compromised. Education and anything related to education. Be it for special courses, sending us to tuitions, or buying books. Our mother was always the go to person if we wanted something, since our father was busy trying to sustain the family.<br />
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With books, we have never seen her say, "No, it's not required. Are you sure you want to buy it?" She always felt that we could make the best possible decision when it came to academics. I was in the ICSE medium, which meant there was no one standard text book per subject. There were always new books, new question banks and new materials.<br />
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"Amma, there is this new question bank in Mathematics authored by Sultanchand. People are saying it's good." I remember that the prescribed text book for Mathematics was authored by OP Sinhal. Anybody who has studied in ICSE will know the importance of OP Sinhal. <br />
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"If you think it's good, go get it."<br />
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The judgement was left to us to figure out whether a book was required or not. That's the level of trust that was bestowed on us when we were in school. <br />
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I've always felt that there are two things for which a person cannot cheat. One is learning and the other is hunger. A person can never eat more than he can. You can eat all you want but at some point, you just won't be able to increase the intake. There is a cap. But, with learning, the quest is always there. You will buy a book only if you want to get something out of it. A person who is never interested in reading will never buy a book (however inexpensive the book is). Forget buying a book, he would not read it even if available for free. It's a different matter that today, my Kindle always houses a few books that I have never read. But, the thought is always there that I'll get to them someday. <br />
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So, when I look back on my growing up days, one thing that really stands out is the amount of money I have spent for the text books. For the good or bad, I always had the fear of missing out if I didn't have a particular book.<br />
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In spite of all the hardships at home, the one thing that remained constant was there could be no compromise in education. That was just unacceptable. <br />
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Our mother used to tell us, "Education is the only thing that's going to define the rest of your life. So, make sure you don't take it easy. There are poor children who are struggling to buy books. We are providing you with everything we can. I don't want to hear that your education is affected because of our financial instability."<br />
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Today, it's very easy to trivialize education. It doesn't matter in which college you did your Engineering or Master's, ultimately it's all the same is the general consensus. But, at every stage in life, you have to get past certain challenges and achieve the best you can. That's the only thing that would differentiate the best from the good. The trait of successful people is not about going to the best college or receiving the best education, but it's about maximizing the opportunities in the best possible way.<br />
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In that way, our mother did not receive the best education in life, but she made sure that as long as she had the control to run the family, she would do it in the best possible way making sure that she left no stone unturned, so that her kids would be in a position to maximize their opportunities in life.<br />
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At the end of the day, everyone is successful in his own way. Whether we realize or not, education is a precious gift.</div>
Praveen Krishnanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07066449552055203870noreply@blogger.com0