India and Pakistan are still slugging it out on the cricket field, but I'm back in Delhi. Took three days off before getting back onto the desk, but there was no R & R for me. Rest Day 1 saw me and flatmate bike down to Gurgaon amidst chaotic Delhi traffic on some of the best roads I've been on. On Rest Day 2 I trekked all across Connaught Place till heavy breathing interfered with my general feeling of well-being. And yesterday, me and another flatmate went off on another of those Discover Delhi jaunts. We loped along to the Safdarjung Tomb, and spent a couple of hours walking in Lodhi Gardens. It was pleasant enough although we did stumble over the odd couple making out here and there.
The more I think of leaving Delhi, the more reasons I find to stick around!
Saturday, March 26, 2005
Sunday, March 13, 2005
Simple, sublime.
Indian philosophy decrees that one can achieve Moksha, or salvation through 4 ways: Bhakti Yoga (through devotion), Raja Yoga (through control of the body), Gnana Yoga (through knowledge) and Karma Yoga (through perfection in the workplace). Watching Sachin Tendulkar bat, you can't help the feeling that he's already qualified for a business class ticket to heaven in the Karma Yoga quota. If he so desires, that is.
Yes, he missed out on a world-record 35th test century, and fell 27 runs short of reaching the 10,000 run mark in the first Indo-Pak test in Mohali. But his 94 was as impressive a knock I've seen from his blade.
It's been well established by now that though Sachin doesn't carve up bowling sides like he used to, he still accumulates runs as effectively as ever before. The last year-and-a-half may have seen the unveiling of the New Sachin, but it's something that hasn't yet been absorbed by the public. Sachin in Mohali started off pugnaciously, but his run collecting soon dwindled into just poaching the occassional ones and twos. And it was while he was dot-balling deliveries after deliveries that I thought about the salvation bit. His run making isn't austere, but he looks every bit a saint these days, calmly piling up runs after assessing the situation.
It's deeply satisfying to watch him in this phase, just as it was thrilling to see him lay into the bowling during the bulk of his career.
Sachin Tendulkar
Yes, he missed out on a world-record 35th test century, and fell 27 runs short of reaching the 10,000 run mark in the first Indo-Pak test in Mohali. But his 94 was as impressive a knock I've seen from his blade.
It's been well established by now that though Sachin doesn't carve up bowling sides like he used to, he still accumulates runs as effectively as ever before. The last year-and-a-half may have seen the unveiling of the New Sachin, but it's something that hasn't yet been absorbed by the public. Sachin in Mohali started off pugnaciously, but his run collecting soon dwindled into just poaching the occassional ones and twos. And it was while he was dot-balling deliveries after deliveries that I thought about the salvation bit. His run making isn't austere, but he looks every bit a saint these days, calmly piling up runs after assessing the situation.
It's deeply satisfying to watch him in this phase, just as it was thrilling to see him lay into the bowling during the bulk of his career.
Sachin Tendulkar
Wednesday, March 02, 2005
Dharamshala cricket
Exactly a year after I came to Dharamshala for the very first time to cover cricket, I've been sent back - for the same reason.
Only this time, the general hysteria has gotten even louder - Pakistan begin their tour of India in this little known hill station/HQ of the Dalai Lama. And though the rain gods haven't been kind so far, the people here will get to see their sometimes hated (and sometimes loved) neighbours from beyond the mountatins in action for some time atleast.
As for me, I'm not exactly the most gruntled person around for two reasons:
1. Covering cricket for a tv channel has got to be the only job in the world that looks as cool as it is bad. You work all day and pester the cricketers for that all important soundbite. And at the end of the day, you feel lousy about the whole deal.
2. What am I doing covering cricket in Dharamshala when I can go to the Tibetean temple, trek through the Dauladhar mountains and generally have a good time?
I'm going to close my eyes and do this on autopilot. The job doesn't need brains anyway!
Only this time, the general hysteria has gotten even louder - Pakistan begin their tour of India in this little known hill station/HQ of the Dalai Lama. And though the rain gods haven't been kind so far, the people here will get to see their sometimes hated (and sometimes loved) neighbours from beyond the mountatins in action for some time atleast.
As for me, I'm not exactly the most gruntled person around for two reasons:
1. Covering cricket for a tv channel has got to be the only job in the world that looks as cool as it is bad. You work all day and pester the cricketers for that all important soundbite. And at the end of the day, you feel lousy about the whole deal.
2. What am I doing covering cricket in Dharamshala when I can go to the Tibetean temple, trek through the Dauladhar mountains and generally have a good time?
I'm going to close my eyes and do this on autopilot. The job doesn't need brains anyway!
Thursday, February 24, 2005
Discovering Delhi
I've been going off on jaunts along the history-infested bylanes of Delhi with my flatmates. (It's been two years and the only places I've seen here is the Red Fort, Jantar Mantar and Chandni Chowk). Here's what we did last week:
National Rail Museum - it's places like these that really tell you what India could have been like in the 1930's or early 1900's. There's cutlery dating from 75 years back, sofas upholstered in the old style and even the commodes are revelation! There's also a fair bit of information on how the Indian rail network came to be. And of course, there are the trains. India's first steam engine, last steam engine, and personal coaches belonging to various Rajahs. All immaculately preserved - which in India means - lots of dust, cobwebs, rats, a few pepsi cans and some discarded chocolate wrappers.
The toy train was worth it too...
Great Indian Rock - okay this isn't exactly history, and it was more like the Great Indian Ruckus. Most of the bands were either trying to sound like Metallica, Obituary or Limp Bizkit in their own compostions or playing covers. The good bits were John Myung of Dream Theater fame playing his bass and the Norwegian band 'WE' with their heavy grinding groove and a frontman who spoke in heavily accented English.
Mughal Gardens - a part of the Rashtrapathi Bhavan, this garden is only open to the public in February and March every year. It was a fairly instructive experience. I actually got to see these actually look like - Damask Rose, Pansy, Daisy, Lily, and Lemon Grass. Found out that the very English sounding herb Basil is actually Tulsi and got to take home a Brahmi plant.
For this week, the plan is to visit Humayun's Tomb, Coronation Park and would you believe it, the Delhi Zoo. Let's see how long we can keep this up.
National Rail Museum - it's places like these that really tell you what India could have been like in the 1930's or early 1900's. There's cutlery dating from 75 years back, sofas upholstered in the old style and even the commodes are revelation! There's also a fair bit of information on how the Indian rail network came to be. And of course, there are the trains. India's first steam engine, last steam engine, and personal coaches belonging to various Rajahs. All immaculately preserved - which in India means - lots of dust, cobwebs, rats, a few pepsi cans and some discarded chocolate wrappers.
The toy train was worth it too...
Great Indian Rock - okay this isn't exactly history, and it was more like the Great Indian Ruckus. Most of the bands were either trying to sound like Metallica, Obituary or Limp Bizkit in their own compostions or playing covers. The good bits were John Myung of Dream Theater fame playing his bass and the Norwegian band 'WE' with their heavy grinding groove and a frontman who spoke in heavily accented English.
Mughal Gardens - a part of the Rashtrapathi Bhavan, this garden is only open to the public in February and March every year. It was a fairly instructive experience. I actually got to see these actually look like - Damask Rose, Pansy, Daisy, Lily, and Lemon Grass. Found out that the very English sounding herb Basil is actually Tulsi and got to take home a Brahmi plant.
For this week, the plan is to visit Humayun's Tomb, Coronation Park and would you believe it, the Delhi Zoo. Let's see how long we can keep this up.
Friday, February 18, 2005
Tuesday, February 08, 2005
Chow chow baat
Just like criminalenglish, I've been throwing my all into cooking (including the kitchen sink). But in my case, this new found affliction is just a month old. I've tried my hand at rasam (moderately successful), chapatis (modestly successful), rice and dal. And I've managed not to poison anyone so far.
My last off-day (Friday) saw me measure distances in Connaught Place the kunda way. From KG Marg to M block is just one bag of popcorn away. M block to A block takes one vanilla ice cream cup. McDonalds is just one Chocolate truffle pastry away. And munching on a small bag of french fries takes you all the way to the auto stand.
By a curious coincidence, today's the day I start jogging.
My last off-day (Friday) saw me measure distances in Connaught Place the kunda way. From KG Marg to M block is just one bag of popcorn away. M block to A block takes one vanilla ice cream cup. McDonalds is just one Chocolate truffle pastry away. And munching on a small bag of french fries takes you all the way to the auto stand.
By a curious coincidence, today's the day I start jogging.
Tuesday, February 01, 2005
'Owning' a breaking story
Senior journalists, who've covered just about everything, are often prone to having sudden flashbacks. Whenever that glazed look comes over their eyes, you can almost see that anecdote coming to life..
And in the course of such reminiscences, some of them talk about 'breaking stories'. Atleast twice in my short career, I've been waylaid by some boss who told me the importance of 'owning' a story. That is, you break it first, and then pull out all stops to ensure every aspect of that issue has been brought out. And of course, it has to be a story your rival channel/newspaper hasn't bothered to highlight.
Today we had a chance to to do something like that - Narain Karthikeyan announced that we would finally be getting to drive a Formula one car this season. A colleague of mine had figured out that something like this was happening and we had our coverage plan ready, right down to hourly breakdown through the day.
But the system had to cock up - an overhead broadcasting van wasn't at the press conference when Narain announced the news, BECAUSE someone higher-up had decided the story wasn't worth it. And of course we missed it, only to see our rival channel splash it all across their channel.
After 24 hours of preparing backgrounders, stings and a whole production/broadcast plan - we'd been pipped to the post.
I was of course furious - we'd been beaten at our own game. We'd missed the chequered flag, were last to breast the tape and so on. But I don't suppose our audiences noticed anything...
Isn't there supposed to be a lesson somewhere in all this?
And in the course of such reminiscences, some of them talk about 'breaking stories'. Atleast twice in my short career, I've been waylaid by some boss who told me the importance of 'owning' a story. That is, you break it first, and then pull out all stops to ensure every aspect of that issue has been brought out. And of course, it has to be a story your rival channel/newspaper hasn't bothered to highlight.
Today we had a chance to to do something like that - Narain Karthikeyan announced that we would finally be getting to drive a Formula one car this season. A colleague of mine had figured out that something like this was happening and we had our coverage plan ready, right down to hourly breakdown through the day.
But the system had to cock up - an overhead broadcasting van wasn't at the press conference when Narain announced the news, BECAUSE someone higher-up had decided the story wasn't worth it. And of course we missed it, only to see our rival channel splash it all across their channel.
After 24 hours of preparing backgrounders, stings and a whole production/broadcast plan - we'd been pipped to the post.
I was of course furious - we'd been beaten at our own game. We'd missed the chequered flag, were last to breast the tape and so on. But I don't suppose our audiences noticed anything...
Isn't there supposed to be a lesson somewhere in all this?
Wednesday, January 26, 2005
The Horror! The Horror!
In which I get to bellyache a bit...
Workday today was completely messed up. I made the rundown, (the order of news stories strategically placed that is linked to what goes on air) but forgot to fix the Headlines. This was thanks to the epic and very interesting Aus Open quarterfinal Lleyton Hewitt-David Nalbandian match. So that meant my colleagues had to scurry around at the last minute to repair the damage, while I was getting ready to go on air. (They very kindly didn't make noises when I was within earshot). Then, I chewed on a few sentences and spat them out the wrong way while anchoring. Then the teleprompter (that nice little machine that lets you read the news, while you appear clever and intelligent) packed up while I was on air. And since I hadn't bothered to check the scripts before, I had NO idea what the story was all about. That meant I tried to bluster my way through saying something like, "oh, we've lost the script, but don't worry we haven't lost the plot". That's quite cool, isn't it, but apparently I said without the right emphasis or expression on my face.
Finally, while closing the bulletin, I ended by asking them to watch out for a bulletin at 11:30 pm, when we'd changed the timings ourselves two weeks back. I did get a few sympathetic nods, but not many because all of the above was MY FAULT.
Am I losing it or what. I don't even know why this happened. Maybe it's just a temporary blip, but maybe it's more than that...
Watch this space.
Workday today was completely messed up. I made the rundown, (the order of news stories strategically placed that is linked to what goes on air) but forgot to fix the Headlines. This was thanks to the epic and very interesting Aus Open quarterfinal Lleyton Hewitt-David Nalbandian match. So that meant my colleagues had to scurry around at the last minute to repair the damage, while I was getting ready to go on air. (They very kindly didn't make noises when I was within earshot). Then, I chewed on a few sentences and spat them out the wrong way while anchoring. Then the teleprompter (that nice little machine that lets you read the news, while you appear clever and intelligent) packed up while I was on air. And since I hadn't bothered to check the scripts before, I had NO idea what the story was all about. That meant I tried to bluster my way through saying something like, "oh, we've lost the script, but don't worry we haven't lost the plot". That's quite cool, isn't it, but apparently I said without the right emphasis or expression on my face.
Finally, while closing the bulletin, I ended by asking them to watch out for a bulletin at 11:30 pm, when we'd changed the timings ourselves two weeks back. I did get a few sympathetic nods, but not many because all of the above was MY FAULT.
Am I losing it or what. I don't even know why this happened. Maybe it's just a temporary blip, but maybe it's more than that...
Watch this space.
Wednesday, January 12, 2005
Bloggers beware!
Tuesday, January 11, 2005
Journalists
What we'd like to be:
journal'istic, adj. (from 'journal', qv)
Possessing the qualities journalists most profess to like. Bright and readable.
Racy, yet reliable. Altogether admirable.
What we actually are:
'Flashy, inclined to cut corners both in terms of work and of strict accuracy.
Lacking in substance. Totally unreliable'
John Simpson's book News From No Man's Land: Reporting the World is turning out to be a delightful read and a learning experience. More to follow...
journal'istic, adj. (from 'journal', qv)
Possessing the qualities journalists most profess to like. Bright and readable.
Racy, yet reliable. Altogether admirable.
What we actually are:
'Flashy, inclined to cut corners both in terms of work and of strict accuracy.
Lacking in substance. Totally unreliable'
John Simpson's book News From No Man's Land: Reporting the World is turning out to be a delightful read and a learning experience. More to follow...
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