Showing posts from June, 2011
Haven't been able to get Harbhajan Singh's latest performance out of my mind. Yes, a good win for a new-look Indian side on a tricky surface, which that legend Rahul Dravid handled with customary determination. But watching Harbhajan return match figures of 3 for 105 against a sorry line-up when Devendra Bishoo grabbed 7 for 140 - including dismissing Laxman, Dravid and Dhoni in quick succession -  was tough to digest. Here was a surface with bounce and turn - the two facets any offspinner will thrive on, and more so Harbhajan - but he failed to deliver. His line was all over the place: too many wide deliveries which the left-handers - and there were five of them in the West Indies side - could leave alone, and then an equal number of deliveries drifting onto the pads off a short length. The batsmen were rarely bothered. When Harbhajan switched to around the stumps, he continued to feed the batsmen on the pads. What offspinner thrives on that line? Coolly, the batsmen tucked
The tacky tiles ache for an identity. The upholstery screams for comfort. The neon sign above the entrance flickers for friendship. The waiters' smiles quiver from claustrophobia. The upturned glasses on the cold white tables beg to be toasted. This is so not the breakfast of champions.


40 kilometers. Up and down. From Manali to Patlikuhl and back. On mountain bikes. Through the hills of Himachal Pradesh, breathtaking scenery on either side, the Beas flowing to the right down in the valley below, alpine trees dotting the horizon and offering shelter from the sun, the road curving like a scythe, arms outstretched, wind in the face, music in in the ear. Amazing. Seven of us biked it to Patlikuhl, and two of us decided to do the return leg as well. It was a challenge, but one overcome through determination. Coming back was a lot of uphill, and my legs were aching and burning after the first climb. The two of us kept at it, stopping once for water and then at the halfway mark, for some hot tea at a dhaba. Then it was back on our bikes, legs pumping as we scaled the terrain and managed to stay clear of buses and trucks as the light faded and day made way for night. To reach our destination, the Dragon Lodge in Old Manali, and to slap backs and hug friends and retell the jo
The rain came down. To my left, three kids laughed and splashed in a puddle of muddy water. To my right, a laborer hauled a wagon of boxes covered by blue tarp, his every muscle creaking as he struggled to lug his load through traffic and heavy rain. In front,  a man on a scooter argued with a taxi driver. The rain came down. So this is monsoon.
"Yeh hai Bruce Lee ka bhai, Choos Lee." "Kutte ko billi ka salaam. Meeeeowwww." If you've heard those two hilarious lines and can't place where you did, chances are you heard someone else use them. If you've seen Peecha Karo and can automatically place the source, well then all I have to say is SALAAM ... minus the meeeeowwww.   I recently got my hands on a copy of Peecha Karo , Pankaj Parashar's 1986 laugh riot starring Farooq Sheikh, Amjad Khan, Roma Manik, Rajendra Nath, Rajesh Puri, Anupam Kher, Viju Khote and, in a comedic pairing to rival their antics in Jaane Bhi Do Yaaron , Ravi Baswani and Satish Shah as the bumbling secret agents, Hari Giridhara and Giri Haridhara. This movie is up there with JBDY and Andaz Apna Apna . Surely the climax of AAA would not have been possible without Peecha Karo (go see it, it's on YouTube and available on Flipkart). The film is riddled with subtle (there's a No Smoking sign in a massive hay
"What happened to your hands?" The look on the taxi driver's face was one of concern. "Huh?" "Your hands. What are those dots on your skin? Some disease?" "No, not at all. Its common. Many people have it." "I've never seen it. Looks like something happened." "No, they're called ... forget it." How can I explain freckles to him?