Wednesday, September 24, 2008
Delhi: Vision Commonwealth
(I believe the best comedy is often sattire... What got me to write this post is a hoarding that i happened to see by chance)On a random day trip across Delhi, odds are you would see hoardings that have been put up by the Delhi government extolling how Delhi is moving up, in gear to meet the status of host of the Commonweath Games, happening in 2010. The two points on the we-have-done-it list is the Delhi Metro and the 150 odd low floor red environment friendly busses that have been pressed to service by the DTC. (I am betting that next on that list would be the 4.4 km runway of the IG airpot). Not withstanding the fact that the commonwealth "village" would be a sort of an ecological disaster for Yamuna and we ostensibly lack any serious action from anywhere to meet up to the games standards, Delhi marches ahead full steam for the 2010 rendezvous.In the mean time, its also priming up its hapless million denizens. The floods in the low lying areas of Yamuna are not to be mis interpreted as a calamity. From the Commonwealth perspective, lets look at it from an opportunity stand point, where we can identify the Mark Phelps equivalent in India. Dont wade, just swim and by the way, if you actually save your life, lives of others and some belongings, thats a bonus. The swimming association in India (or what ever it is, that controls water sports) would do well to constitute a "x" member panel/board consisting of those swimmers, who in earlier Olympics, Asian, Commonwealth, National or State Games have done the honours of representing this country/state/tehsil/panchayat. That they didnot win any medal, is an incidental omission. (Haven't you heard that participation with spirit is more important than winning).Moving on from water to land, (or what ever is left of it). Only a few days back, one of the RJs in one of the FM stations pulled a fast one comparing the roads of Delhi to Om Puri's face. (Personally i found it demeaning to an actor of Om Puri's status, but that is a different issue altogether). Coming back to the roads of Delhi, I sense a grand conspiracy to get all those unhealthy car driving executives and businessmen off their perches (i.e Car Seats). They anyway travel @ snail speed and kill time and create a lot of black smoked pollution. Walk/Run/Jump.... commute in style. That way you will have a fitter generation of Delhiites and a better chance to spot the India Asafa Powell/Tyson Gay/Griffith Joyner, who ever you wanted to spot in the first place. So then are we going about setting a 100 member comittee to spot the talent around on the pot holled roads of Delhi?Abhinav Bindra takes care of the shooting bit actually. But we could do more with the brawn of Sushil/Vijender. Watch out for the roadside altercations-turning-into-brawls on the roads of Delhi. The other outcome of such incidents being two cars, one with a positively ruined derriere and the other with a heavily damaged bonnet! Tempers flare and fists come easy actually. There is Vijender II/Sushil II out there waiting to be discovered.I am so dissapointed about that fact that car racing doesnot feature in these games.Do you think any Schumi/Alonso/Raikonnen would match upto our over zealous Blue Line pilots, who over speed, out brake, out manneuvre, out kill in the same breath actually. I vote that we raise a petition to the commonwealth games committee's to tell them how sorely they have been missing the racing spectacle which would be a treat on the Indian roads.The other sport amiss is one in which Delhi's favourite son Virender Sehwag eats drinks and does not-even-fart ballers for breakfast, Lunch and Dinners. Not thathe was enough, now we have Gambhir for company. Hey they ont even have golf for CW, else it would a little improvisation and adjust game for these two. Gold again for India!So then thats a pretty good starting point for Delhi's efforts on Commonwealth and i am sure we are looking good.
The magic and the pain of Monday!
Sleepy and Bleary eyed, i seek for the alarm-ringing-mobile under my pillow, under the covers. Ultimately i find it under my wife's pillow. I quickly put i off careful so not to disturb her sleep. Pulling myself out of the bed and trudging towards the bathroom, the mind is numb, still somnambulent. 5 days to the weekend. Wake up man, its a MONDAY.
My favourite bad day of the week! A day i would wipe out of the Calendars of the world if i could help. But of-course, some other day would take up Monday's place. The Problem essentially is not with Monday but with drudgery and work.Not that it gets better thru the week, but then the next 2 days , Tuesday and Wednesday, you are effectively settled into the groove. Thursday and Friday pass waiting the for the weekend. Thus the only day which is without hope is Monday when you have a whole week ahead of you.
Many executives and mid aged professionals have this theory of sleep long long long hours on Saturday and Sunday. Unfortunately, i am contrarian to this view. As i had explained to a friend of mine in my staying-in-the-mess days, Saturdays and Sundays are so much to do days. These are the days when we work for ourselves. Loosing time for myself to my sleep was hence a bad bargain. Instead i had loose my work days to my sleep and be ok with it. Only if i have to see two back-to-back movies on a Friday or saturday might, do i allow myself the comfort of waking up at 11 the following day.
Coming back to Monday, it takes the first patters of the shower to jolt the mind back to here and now. Monday being Monday, is a formal day. This is the Monday-Formal Syndrome. Subconciously, most people in the office including me choose to put up our best formal wear on Monday. Purely of our own volition. The dress code takes more innovative spins post Wednesday when Jeans and Cargos and Ts step into the office. By the time i am fully geared for the office, i am already stiffling my first yawns. A gaping huge one; a reminder from the body that it has not yet recivered from the weekend excesses! I try to bring my mind upto speed on the dinning table thinking of the list of to do things for Monday. I wish i could add another couple of hours to my sleep account. My wife is a picture of bliss, wrapped under the covers, deep in her sleep and in her dream land. I pick up the three essentials to me: my wallet, my car keys and my cell phone. Being one of those people who drive 1 hour daily to and fro from work, i hardly find time to glance through the newpaper and one of the better ideas is to take it for reading it in the office. Stiffling a couple of yawns by now, i climb down the stairs.
The trudging to the office starts and so does my tryst with the local RJs who keep me entertained or at least less fuming on my way to office. I have a very hate-detest-loathe relation with DTC busses and the call centre Innovas and Qualiss. I would have them removed from the road when i am on it if i had a be-the-god-moment (ala Bruce Almighty). Unfortunately for me, there are no such moments in the offing. So it is a gear,clutch,brake, horn, steer,veer, miss from hitting moments all the way to my office interjected by the once-in-5-minute yawns.
At the 72 second traffic light intersection, i turn the paper over and theres a Porsche Cayenne print ad of 150 cc. It says 450 bhp, 0 to 100 kmph in 3.2 seconds....
Theres sleep in my eyes, and the dreams on that newspaper edition.It is one of those dreams i carry with myself. Its that dream that pushes me to go thru this grind every Monday... Monday after Monday. I hate the Mondays, but its the love of that dream. It is the hope that the pain of many such Mondays would translate into the magic moment of owning the Cayenne.. How many such Mondays ... for that moment of ownership of my dream!
My favourite bad day of the week! A day i would wipe out of the Calendars of the world if i could help. But of-course, some other day would take up Monday's place. The Problem essentially is not with Monday but with drudgery and work.Not that it gets better thru the week, but then the next 2 days , Tuesday and Wednesday, you are effectively settled into the groove. Thursday and Friday pass waiting the for the weekend. Thus the only day which is without hope is Monday when you have a whole week ahead of you.
Many executives and mid aged professionals have this theory of sleep long long long hours on Saturday and Sunday. Unfortunately, i am contrarian to this view. As i had explained to a friend of mine in my staying-in-the-mess days, Saturdays and Sundays are so much to do days. These are the days when we work for ourselves. Loosing time for myself to my sleep was hence a bad bargain. Instead i had loose my work days to my sleep and be ok with it. Only if i have to see two back-to-back movies on a Friday or saturday might, do i allow myself the comfort of waking up at 11 the following day.
Coming back to Monday, it takes the first patters of the shower to jolt the mind back to here and now. Monday being Monday, is a formal day. This is the Monday-Formal Syndrome. Subconciously, most people in the office including me choose to put up our best formal wear on Monday. Purely of our own volition. The dress code takes more innovative spins post Wednesday when Jeans and Cargos and Ts step into the office. By the time i am fully geared for the office, i am already stiffling my first yawns. A gaping huge one; a reminder from the body that it has not yet recivered from the weekend excesses! I try to bring my mind upto speed on the dinning table thinking of the list of to do things for Monday. I wish i could add another couple of hours to my sleep account. My wife is a picture of bliss, wrapped under the covers, deep in her sleep and in her dream land. I pick up the three essentials to me: my wallet, my car keys and my cell phone. Being one of those people who drive 1 hour daily to and fro from work, i hardly find time to glance through the newpaper and one of the better ideas is to take it for reading it in the office. Stiffling a couple of yawns by now, i climb down the stairs.
The trudging to the office starts and so does my tryst with the local RJs who keep me entertained or at least less fuming on my way to office. I have a very hate-detest-loathe relation with DTC busses and the call centre Innovas and Qualiss. I would have them removed from the road when i am on it if i had a be-the-god-moment (ala Bruce Almighty). Unfortunately for me, there are no such moments in the offing. So it is a gear,clutch,brake, horn, steer,veer, miss from hitting moments all the way to my office interjected by the once-in-5-minute yawns.
At the 72 second traffic light intersection, i turn the paper over and theres a Porsche Cayenne print ad of 150 cc. It says 450 bhp, 0 to 100 kmph in 3.2 seconds....
Theres sleep in my eyes, and the dreams on that newspaper edition.It is one of those dreams i carry with myself. Its that dream that pushes me to go thru this grind every Monday... Monday after Monday. I hate the Mondays, but its the love of that dream. It is the hope that the pain of many such Mondays would translate into the magic moment of owning the Cayenne.. How many such Mondays ... for that moment of ownership of my dream!
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