I recently came across these articles by Kunal Kohli, a Bollywood director from the Johar-Chopra camp, who has on MSN a column imaginatively called "The Kunal Kohli Column":
http://content.msn.co.in/Lifestyle/Moreonlifestyle/LifestyleIS_1242.htm
http://content.msn.co.in/Entertainment/Bollywood/special_kunalkohli_column.htm
Reading these articles just reinforced the notion that the Bollywood folk have distressingly been placed on pedestals, resulting in gigantic egos and are very much in need of a reality check.
In his first article, he describes how he had to re-evaluate the movie awards system in Bollywood when his movie Fanaa was not nominated for Best Film and he was not nominated for Best Director at the Screen and Filmfare awards. I congratulate him on realizing at last that in a country where every TV channel and unhealthy food brand has its own movie award, it really isn't much of an honor to win one of them. What I am amazed at is that it was his exclusion from the awards that led him to this introspection and subsequent conclusion. He clearly thinks so highly of himself and his movie that by not nominating him, these awards have opened his eyes and proved their worthlessness to him!
The second article would be fantastic were it a tongue-in-cheek article. Mr. Kohli is unfortunately, perfectly serious. The basic premise is that Bollywood has the potential to make a Grand Canyon sized mark in the global market, and eventually to buy out Hollywood. We have a lot of new and bright film makers with fresh ideas that would have universal appeal. I was quite amused to see Hum Tum (his first film) in the examples of movies with an unusual theme. Somehow, I really doubt the Western audience would want to watch Hum Tum when they can watch When Harry Met Sally with the delightful Meg Ryan and Billy Crystal instead. (Hum Tum is a shameless and blatant copy of When Harry Met Sally.) He further states that piracy of Indian movies results in enormous financial losses that could be used to make bigger and better movies. I hate to disillusion Mr. Kohli but the problem in Bollywood is a paucity of interesting stories, skilled directors and actors who do not ham their way to the end of each film. Regrettably, injecting more money into each movie is not the solution. Maybe I'm being myopic and/or pessimistic, but an Indian film maker making something on the scale of Lord of the Rings or even Spiderman is really quite inconceivable. They cannot even do a decent job of something like Salaam-e-Ishq. The second problem is that in Bollywood, bigger and better is defined as having more glitz and glamor, a la Dhoom 2, which I feel is the last thing we need. Indeed, if the movies got any glossier, we'd need sunglasses just to watch them. Finally, Bollywood movies in general tend to be so disappointing, that the audience feels loath to spend money on the tickets. So while I'm not advocating piracy in any way, I do think the industry needs to realize its responsibility to give us something watchable and enjoyable, and stop blaming us for their shortcomings.
I am also continually amazed at how much Bollywood overestimates the interest that Western society has in our movies. Indian movies make the kind of money they do abroad because of South Asians living abroad. Period. That is because these folks will watch any kind of Hindi movie, no matter how outlandish, garish or silly, because it re-connects them for a couple of hours to their home in India that they left behind. There is a very small group of westerners who will watch some of our movies, much like Chinese or Spanish movies, and we will lose this audience if we don't focus more on substance and less on barely-there stories and clothes.
Buy out Hollywood indeed! Just how deluded are these guys in Mumbai's Tinseltown? But enough about Kunal Kohli and his self-indulgent, self-aggrandizing and utterly misguided comments. I really should get back to work now.
Friday, March 30, 2007
Thursday, March 29, 2007
Indian S.C. Stays Reservation Bill
The Indian Supreme Court ordered a stay on the controversial plans to implement a 27% reservation for the Other Backward Classes (OBCs) at the IITs, IIMs, AIIMS and other institutions of higher education today. This is in addition to the 22.5% reservation already established for the Scheduled Castes and Scheduled Tribes (SCSTs).
The latter quota was adopted approximately 50 years ago at the time of India's independence. Then in 1979, the Mangal Commission was set up by the then Prime Minister, Morarji Desai, to determine what classes/castes should be included in the OBC group, what criteria should be used to formulate this list and finally what their quota should be. The commission then compiled a list based on socio-economic status and education levels and determined that a further 27% of seats in government institutions would be reserved for the OBCs. When the PM at the time, Mr. V.P. Singh tried to implement these recommendations, there were nationwide protests. The quotas were enforced nonetheless.
Until recently, however, institutions of higher education like the Indian Institutes of Technology (IITs), the Indian Institutes of Management (IIMs) and medical colleges like the All India Institute of Medical Scienced (AIIMS) were exempt from this law. In 2006, Human Resource Development minister Arjun Singh announced that he wanted this law to apply to the aforementioned institutions and gradually to colleges and companies in the private sector. This immediately sparked a series of student protests. At one point, medical students were joined by doctors and health care in certain hospitals actually came to a standstill. This was followed by a spate of suspensions of the doctors, and more rallies and hunger strikes by the protesters. Eventually, the Supreme Court was forced to intervene and directed the doctors to resume their work. In the last few months, the government established various committees and commission to prove to the Supreme Court that this affirmative action is required. Finally, today, the Supreme Court ordered a stay on the additional reservations and mandated the government to provide them with numbers based on a more recent population census.
The Mangal Commission came under a lot of fire because of various discrepancies in their population figures and those of the National Sample Survey. Furthermore, according to Wikipedia (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Mandal_commission), the commission has used some dubious methods to determine the number of people who fall in the OBC category. For instance, they seem to have counted those who fall under the SCST category but who have a slight change in the spelling of their names. They also seem to have included certain sub-castes even though the caste as a whole is an SC.
Personally, I think the whole affair is just a stunt employed by our vote-mongering politicians, especially the likes of Arjun Singh. It is an uncomfortable but irrefutable fact that the lower classes and castes have been discriminated against in the past and the despicable practice continues even today. They also may not have the resources necessary to ameliorate their situation in life. In such cases, the government does have an obligation to assist them in their endeavors. However, perpetuating the caste system is only going to stoke more inter-caste resentment and discrimination, thereby defeating the purpose of the reservations in the first place.
For example, I know that the IITs already have a quota for SCSTs and more often than not, despite relaxed standards for them (2/3 the score of the last General Category applicant accepted), many of these seats are not filled. They are not opened up for other students either. Instead, SCST students who don't make the cut are offered a one-year preparatory course and then if they clear the exams, are given an SCST seat. Obviously, the numbers don't always match, and there are often some seats that remain unfilled. So to return to my earlier point, some students who were just barely on the wrong side of the cut-off might resent the fact that despite scoring higher than the SCST students and that open seats were still available, they still didn't make it.
In addition to antagonizing the students against each other, the quality of the graduates of these institutions is going to be severely compromised. The purpose of the IITs, IIMs and so on is to train professionals who will be able to work at the top companies of the world and hold their own in that environment. To achieve this, each incoming class has to be of a certain caliber so that they can take maximum advantage of what their university has to offer them. Ultimately, by admitting students with sub-standard academic qualifications, the institutions are going to jeopardize their own reputations and therefore their graduates.
If Arjun Singh et al really wanted to make a difference, they would immediately realize that this is a problem that requires the changing of people's attitudes about each other and about education in general, and therefore does not have any short-term solutions. In my opinion, one of the most effective ways to go about it would be promote education among lower castes/classes. Providing a solid foundation in primary and secondary education to EVERYONE should be one of the top priorities of the government. This would, of course, mean investing in infrastructure, quality teachers and financial assistance. By ensuring equal educational opportunities for all students, we can enable them to compete at the same level and have a truly meritocratic system of education.
Clearly, though, such measures take a long time, and will not help the current powers-that-be to garner more votes in the upcoming elections. I have a sinking feeling in my stomach that our incompetent, venal and stupid politicians will simply not see the issue in a sensible light and what we are going to have on our hands is unprecedented Brain Drain. What are we going to do then?
I would like to end this rather long post on a "hhmmm" note - I seem to remember that ex-Prime Minister Mr. Singh used to (and perhaps still does) run off to doctors in London at the first sign of a sniffle. Even as one of the loudest proponents of the reservation laws, he does not trust Indian doctors, OBC or otherwise, to provide him with the best health care possible.
The latter quota was adopted approximately 50 years ago at the time of India's independence. Then in 1979, the Mangal Commission was set up by the then Prime Minister, Morarji Desai, to determine what classes/castes should be included in the OBC group, what criteria should be used to formulate this list and finally what their quota should be. The commission then compiled a list based on socio-economic status and education levels and determined that a further 27% of seats in government institutions would be reserved for the OBCs. When the PM at the time, Mr. V.P. Singh tried to implement these recommendations, there were nationwide protests. The quotas were enforced nonetheless.
Until recently, however, institutions of higher education like the Indian Institutes of Technology (IITs), the Indian Institutes of Management (IIMs) and medical colleges like the All India Institute of Medical Scienced (AIIMS) were exempt from this law. In 2006, Human Resource Development minister Arjun Singh announced that he wanted this law to apply to the aforementioned institutions and gradually to colleges and companies in the private sector. This immediately sparked a series of student protests. At one point, medical students were joined by doctors and health care in certain hospitals actually came to a standstill. This was followed by a spate of suspensions of the doctors, and more rallies and hunger strikes by the protesters. Eventually, the Supreme Court was forced to intervene and directed the doctors to resume their work. In the last few months, the government established various committees and commission to prove to the Supreme Court that this affirmative action is required. Finally, today, the Supreme Court ordered a stay on the additional reservations and mandated the government to provide them with numbers based on a more recent population census.
The Mangal Commission came under a lot of fire because of various discrepancies in their population figures and those of the National Sample Survey. Furthermore, according to Wikipedia (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Mandal_commission), the commission has used some dubious methods to determine the number of people who fall in the OBC category. For instance, they seem to have counted those who fall under the SCST category but who have a slight change in the spelling of their names. They also seem to have included certain sub-castes even though the caste as a whole is an SC.
Personally, I think the whole affair is just a stunt employed by our vote-mongering politicians, especially the likes of Arjun Singh. It is an uncomfortable but irrefutable fact that the lower classes and castes have been discriminated against in the past and the despicable practice continues even today. They also may not have the resources necessary to ameliorate their situation in life. In such cases, the government does have an obligation to assist them in their endeavors. However, perpetuating the caste system is only going to stoke more inter-caste resentment and discrimination, thereby defeating the purpose of the reservations in the first place.
For example, I know that the IITs already have a quota for SCSTs and more often than not, despite relaxed standards for them (2/3 the score of the last General Category applicant accepted), many of these seats are not filled. They are not opened up for other students either. Instead, SCST students who don't make the cut are offered a one-year preparatory course and then if they clear the exams, are given an SCST seat. Obviously, the numbers don't always match, and there are often some seats that remain unfilled. So to return to my earlier point, some students who were just barely on the wrong side of the cut-off might resent the fact that despite scoring higher than the SCST students and that open seats were still available, they still didn't make it.
In addition to antagonizing the students against each other, the quality of the graduates of these institutions is going to be severely compromised. The purpose of the IITs, IIMs and so on is to train professionals who will be able to work at the top companies of the world and hold their own in that environment. To achieve this, each incoming class has to be of a certain caliber so that they can take maximum advantage of what their university has to offer them. Ultimately, by admitting students with sub-standard academic qualifications, the institutions are going to jeopardize their own reputations and therefore their graduates.
If Arjun Singh et al really wanted to make a difference, they would immediately realize that this is a problem that requires the changing of people's attitudes about each other and about education in general, and therefore does not have any short-term solutions. In my opinion, one of the most effective ways to go about it would be promote education among lower castes/classes. Providing a solid foundation in primary and secondary education to EVERYONE should be one of the top priorities of the government. This would, of course, mean investing in infrastructure, quality teachers and financial assistance. By ensuring equal educational opportunities for all students, we can enable them to compete at the same level and have a truly meritocratic system of education.
Clearly, though, such measures take a long time, and will not help the current powers-that-be to garner more votes in the upcoming elections. I have a sinking feeling in my stomach that our incompetent, venal and stupid politicians will simply not see the issue in a sensible light and what we are going to have on our hands is unprecedented Brain Drain. What are we going to do then?
I would like to end this rather long post on a "hhmmm" note - I seem to remember that ex-Prime Minister Mr. Singh used to (and perhaps still does) run off to doctors in London at the first sign of a sniffle. Even as one of the loudest proponents of the reservation laws, he does not trust Indian doctors, OBC or otherwise, to provide him with the best health care possible.
Monday, March 26, 2007
India out of the World Cup
*sob*
Friday, March 23, 2007 - one of the most dismal days in Indian World Cup history for the past two decades. Actually, now that I think some more about it, it is a toss up between that and March 17th, the day of India's humiliating loss against Bangladesh.
*sob*
In the Bangladesh match, our top batsmen scored as follows: Sehwag 2, Uthappa 9, Tendulkar 7, Dravid 14, Dhoni 0. Only Ganguly, 66, and Yuvraj Singh 47 made scores of any significance.
Against Sri Lanka, in the must-win match, our intrepid batsmen scored as follows: Uthappa 18, Ganguly 7, Tendulkar 0, Yuvraj Singh 6, Dhoni 0 (again). Sehwag 48 and Dravid 60 demonstrated that they had had a spine transplant in the intervening period.
I'm not going to talk about Bermuda, because if they had lost against Bermuda, it would have been time for the boys in blue to give up our status as an international cricket team and go back to playing the game on the streets and by-lanes of Indian cities.
*sob*
How can a team that has such incredible talent and potential do so miserably? The question is rhetorical, because the answer is obvious - our cricketers quite consistently fail to deliver the goods when under stress. In all fairness, they do carry the burden of the tremendous expectations of over 1 billion people. The fact that they don't have an unusual gait because of buckled knees is a bit of an achievement in itself. But only to a certain extent, because at that level, they need to learn to get over that.
The other problem is the Indians themselves. We put our cricketers on a pedestal because of our passion for the game and expect unrealistic achievements from them. (Though, making it through to the Super 8s is hardly an unrealistic expectation.) The media stroke their egos by writing odes to "Team India" and all the great things that they are going to do. Bollywood puts up shows in their honor, because unless Shah Rukh Khan dances for them, how would they even be able to lift their bats? Companies sign them up for obscene amounts of money to endorse their products. Unfortunately, somewhere in the midst of this circus, the focus on the game itself is lost. Instead, it is all about fame and fortune.
I'm not saying the whole team has lost their way. Rahul Dravid is one of the few guys who has his feet firmly planted on the ground. On the other hand, perhaps if Mahendra Singh Dhoni concentrated less on the upkeep of his blond highlights and more on his batting strokes, he might have made a more significant contribution. As much as it hurts me to say this, perhaps it is time for Tendulkar to retire. Don't get me wrong - I love the man. He was, arguably, the best contemporary player in the world at one point for an astonishing number of years. But he is not really able to deliver what we need in crunch situations any more, and I'd rather he left now, when he is still much loved, than wait until a time when everyone is baying for his blood. Much of the team is young, and hopefully, still fairly malleable. Maybe this crushing loss can serve as a wake-up call and help them to realize that it is now time to apply laser-like focus on the game itself and that glitzy non-cricket matters need to recede into the background.
But for now, I am going to stop crying and make a resolution to stop caring about cricket so much. It's really not worth the effort. I am going to strive to be only mildly curious about it, so much so that if India does win the World Cup in the future, my only reaction is going to be a raised eyebrow and a "Oh, how delightful!"
Yeah. Right.
Friday, March 23, 2007 - one of the most dismal days in Indian World Cup history for the past two decades. Actually, now that I think some more about it, it is a toss up between that and March 17th, the day of India's humiliating loss against Bangladesh.
*sob*
In the Bangladesh match, our top batsmen scored as follows: Sehwag 2, Uthappa 9, Tendulkar 7, Dravid 14, Dhoni 0. Only Ganguly, 66, and Yuvraj Singh 47 made scores of any significance.
Against Sri Lanka, in the must-win match, our intrepid batsmen scored as follows: Uthappa 18, Ganguly 7, Tendulkar 0, Yuvraj Singh 6, Dhoni 0 (again). Sehwag 48 and Dravid 60 demonstrated that they had had a spine transplant in the intervening period.
I'm not going to talk about Bermuda, because if they had lost against Bermuda, it would have been time for the boys in blue to give up our status as an international cricket team and go back to playing the game on the streets and by-lanes of Indian cities.
*sob*
How can a team that has such incredible talent and potential do so miserably? The question is rhetorical, because the answer is obvious - our cricketers quite consistently fail to deliver the goods when under stress. In all fairness, they do carry the burden of the tremendous expectations of over 1 billion people. The fact that they don't have an unusual gait because of buckled knees is a bit of an achievement in itself. But only to a certain extent, because at that level, they need to learn to get over that.
The other problem is the Indians themselves. We put our cricketers on a pedestal because of our passion for the game and expect unrealistic achievements from them. (Though, making it through to the Super 8s is hardly an unrealistic expectation.) The media stroke their egos by writing odes to "Team India" and all the great things that they are going to do. Bollywood puts up shows in their honor, because unless Shah Rukh Khan dances for them, how would they even be able to lift their bats? Companies sign them up for obscene amounts of money to endorse their products. Unfortunately, somewhere in the midst of this circus, the focus on the game itself is lost. Instead, it is all about fame and fortune.
I'm not saying the whole team has lost their way. Rahul Dravid is one of the few guys who has his feet firmly planted on the ground. On the other hand, perhaps if Mahendra Singh Dhoni concentrated less on the upkeep of his blond highlights and more on his batting strokes, he might have made a more significant contribution. As much as it hurts me to say this, perhaps it is time for Tendulkar to retire. Don't get me wrong - I love the man. He was, arguably, the best contemporary player in the world at one point for an astonishing number of years. But he is not really able to deliver what we need in crunch situations any more, and I'd rather he left now, when he is still much loved, than wait until a time when everyone is baying for his blood. Much of the team is young, and hopefully, still fairly malleable. Maybe this crushing loss can serve as a wake-up call and help them to realize that it is now time to apply laser-like focus on the game itself and that glitzy non-cricket matters need to recede into the background.
But for now, I am going to stop crying and make a resolution to stop caring about cricket so much. It's really not worth the effort. I am going to strive to be only mildly curious about it, so much so that if India does win the World Cup in the future, my only reaction is going to be a raised eyebrow and a "Oh, how delightful!"
Yeah. Right.
Saturday, March 24, 2007
Movie Review: The Namesake
I went into the theater to watch The Namesake feeling a little apprehensive for two reasons. First, I am one of the few people who felt a little disappointed at the end of the book. Second, would I get to see the genius of Mira Nair as in Monsoon Wedding or would it be the debacle that was Vanity Fair? Fortunately, it was the former.
The Namesake is the story of two generations of a Bengali family living in America. In the late 1970s, Ashok (Irrfan Khan) is traveling in a train that is involved in a serious accident. Ashok is saved and the book he is carrying at the time (Nikolai Gogol's The Overcoat) becomes a symbol of a great life that he almost never had. A few years later, he gets married to Ashima (Tabu) and takes his new bride to America.
The first half of the movie focuses primarily on the relationship between Ashok and Ashima. The heart-warming development of their love and respect for each other is deftly interspersed with some really hilarious moments such as Ashima's first breakfast in America which is a bowl of rice crispies mixed with peanuts and a little chillie powder. Their bond continues to strengthen and Ashima soon has a baby boy. They decide to temporarily call him Gogol while awaiting their families in India to send them a "good name." He is followed by a girl, Sonia.
As an adolescent, Gogol (Kal Penn) rebels against his family and his culture (a stereotypical A.B.C.D.). He resents his name and Anglicizes his good name Nikhil to Nick. A few years later, he is involved with an American girl (Jacinda Barrett) when he hears of his father's unexpected death. The shock acts as a wake-up call for Gogol. He begins to go back to his roots and culture, dumps Max and starts going out with Moushumi (Zuleikha Robinson) who is also from a Bengali family, but is the antithesis of the girl Ashima would want for her son. The rest of the movie delves into the Gogol-Moushumi relationship and the way Ashima copes with the loss of her husband.
The movie is visually pleasing. I couldn't help but notice the liberal shots of bridges (the Brooklyn Bridge, I think, in New York, and the Howrah Bridge in Kolkata) that tell us which country the director is taking us to. The dialogues are funny, poignant and engaging, and wickedly illustrate the cultural diffrences between Ashima and Ashok and their children as well as the Americans.
As far as the performances go, the cast does not disappoint. Irrfan Khan gives a fantastic performance as the gentle, loyal and loving husband and father. Kal Penn brings a little bit of delightful pot-headedness into the first half of the movie, followed by a mature portrayal of a young man in the midst of an identity crisis in the latter half. Zuleikha Robinson and Jacinda Barrett are okay. But I think the film easily belongs to Tabu. She is simultaneously luminous, funny, heart-breaking and most importantly, very real and believable. Other Bollywood actresses could really take a page from her book and learn how to deliver a flawless subtle yet powerful performance. She engages the audience from her first appearance and doesn't let go even after the very end. In other words, she is simply brilliant!!
The Namesake is a must-watch film. Fantastic acting, a great screenplay and wonderful direction make it one of the best movies I've seen in a really long time. Kudos Ms. Nair!
Rating: ****
[Rating Scale:
****: What a fantastic movie!
*** : Pretty good. Could be better, but not bad at all.
** : Below average. Snooze fest.
* : Seriously, what were they thinking? How dare they put their audience through such hell? This movie should really never have been made. I want my money back!]
The Namesake is the story of two generations of a Bengali family living in America. In the late 1970s, Ashok (Irrfan Khan) is traveling in a train that is involved in a serious accident. Ashok is saved and the book he is carrying at the time (Nikolai Gogol's The Overcoat) becomes a symbol of a great life that he almost never had. A few years later, he gets married to Ashima (Tabu) and takes his new bride to America.
The first half of the movie focuses primarily on the relationship between Ashok and Ashima. The heart-warming development of their love and respect for each other is deftly interspersed with some really hilarious moments such as Ashima's first breakfast in America which is a bowl of rice crispies mixed with peanuts and a little chillie powder. Their bond continues to strengthen and Ashima soon has a baby boy. They decide to temporarily call him Gogol while awaiting their families in India to send them a "good name." He is followed by a girl, Sonia.
As an adolescent, Gogol (Kal Penn) rebels against his family and his culture (a stereotypical A.B.C.D.). He resents his name and Anglicizes his good name Nikhil to Nick. A few years later, he is involved with an American girl (Jacinda Barrett) when he hears of his father's unexpected death. The shock acts as a wake-up call for Gogol. He begins to go back to his roots and culture, dumps Max and starts going out with Moushumi (Zuleikha Robinson) who is also from a Bengali family, but is the antithesis of the girl Ashima would want for her son. The rest of the movie delves into the Gogol-Moushumi relationship and the way Ashima copes with the loss of her husband.
The movie is visually pleasing. I couldn't help but notice the liberal shots of bridges (the Brooklyn Bridge, I think, in New York, and the Howrah Bridge in Kolkata) that tell us which country the director is taking us to. The dialogues are funny, poignant and engaging, and wickedly illustrate the cultural diffrences between Ashima and Ashok and their children as well as the Americans.
As far as the performances go, the cast does not disappoint. Irrfan Khan gives a fantastic performance as the gentle, loyal and loving husband and father. Kal Penn brings a little bit of delightful pot-headedness into the first half of the movie, followed by a mature portrayal of a young man in the midst of an identity crisis in the latter half. Zuleikha Robinson and Jacinda Barrett are okay. But I think the film easily belongs to Tabu. She is simultaneously luminous, funny, heart-breaking and most importantly, very real and believable. Other Bollywood actresses could really take a page from her book and learn how to deliver a flawless subtle yet powerful performance. She engages the audience from her first appearance and doesn't let go even after the very end. In other words, she is simply brilliant!!
The Namesake is a must-watch film. Fantastic acting, a great screenplay and wonderful direction make it one of the best movies I've seen in a really long time. Kudos Ms. Nair!
Rating: ****
[Rating Scale:
****: What a fantastic movie!
*** : Pretty good. Could be better, but not bad at all.
** : Below average. Snooze fest.
* : Seriously, what were they thinking? How dare they put their audience through such hell? This movie should really never have been made. I want my money back!]
Friday, March 23, 2007
Bob Woolmer's Tragic Death
March 17, 2007 will go down as a historic day in the annals of the Cricket World Cup. First, India suffered a 5 wicket loss to underdog Bangladesh. Then, Pakistan lost to another underdog, Ireland, by 3 wickets. Not too many hours after that, Pakistani coach Bob Woolmer was found unconscious in his hotel room, and pronounced dead the following morning.
A bad day all around for over a billion South Asian cricket fans. The word "fan" is woefully inadequate and somewhat misleading when describing the depth of feeling South Asians have for our cricket teams. It does not fully capture the complex and fickle love/hate relationship we have with our cricketers. Cricket is a religion, one we follow with a passion. We love our cricketers and revere them when they win; we despise and denounce them after each loss. Our idols' falls from grace are not forgiven or forgotten until the next scintillating century, the next brilliant win.
It was, therefore, not very surprising that Pakistan's ignominious early exit promptly sparked a furious backlash against the team. Being Indian, I can understand that completely. After all, the World Cup is the Holy Grail in the cricket world. I wouldn't be surprised if a defeat like that would make some people go through the Five Stages of Grief according to the Kubler-Ross model: denial, anger, bargaining, depression and finally acceptance. In the time that had elapsed before the news about Bob Woolmer, most would probably have been in one of the first two stages.
However, at some point between denial and anger, the word was out that Mr. Woolmer had died. Needless to say, every cricket follower was in shock. The initial reports about his health and other circumstances surrounding his death were contradictory. This morning though, the Jamaican police stated definitively that Mr. Woolmer had been asphyxiated by strangulation. He most likely was killed by someone who he knew - one needed to swipe a card to even get on to his floor at the hotel, and there were no signs of a forced entry. Mr. Woolmer was also a big man, and it could have taken more than one person to subdue him.
NDTV reports that after Pakistan's elimination from the World Cup, Mr. Woolmer had emailed his decision to resign as coach to a member of the Pakistan Cricket Board. As of now, all the Pakistani cricketers have been questioned (Inzamam for an hour), fingerprinted and possibly DNA-tested. They have also been asked to not leave the islands for a little while longer. Interestingly, NDTV also spoke to Dinesh Kaneria, who was in the room next to Mr. Woolmer's and who stated that he had not heard any unusual noises coming from the coach's room. The mystery deepens and the investigations continue.
This incident illustrates perfectly just how seriously we South Asians take our cricket, that is, far too seriously. After all, at the end of the day, it IS just a game. I don't mean to say that one should not be passionate about it, but rather that losses should not inspire malicious and malevolent acts like burning effigies of the cricketers or destroying the new house that Mahendra Dhoni is building. As for murdering the team coach? COME ON!!! This kind of maniacal fanaticism can only be detrimental to the sport. For instance, it would now require quite an intrepid soul to take on the responsibility coaching the Pakistan (or Indian) team.
What a dark chapter in the history of cricket this World Cup has turned out to be! From what I have read, Mr. Woolmer was somewhat of a controversial coach in terms of testing the boundaries, but he also cared for teams he coached and the direction they were going in. My condolences go to Mr. Woolmer's family as well as his friends and colleagues who will be trying to cope with his senseless death. I also fervently hope that all the cricket fanatics realize that no sport, no team and no person is worth this sort of intense idolatry.
A bad day all around for over a billion South Asian cricket fans. The word "fan" is woefully inadequate and somewhat misleading when describing the depth of feeling South Asians have for our cricket teams. It does not fully capture the complex and fickle love/hate relationship we have with our cricketers. Cricket is a religion, one we follow with a passion. We love our cricketers and revere them when they win; we despise and denounce them after each loss. Our idols' falls from grace are not forgiven or forgotten until the next scintillating century, the next brilliant win.
It was, therefore, not very surprising that Pakistan's ignominious early exit promptly sparked a furious backlash against the team. Being Indian, I can understand that completely. After all, the World Cup is the Holy Grail in the cricket world. I wouldn't be surprised if a defeat like that would make some people go through the Five Stages of Grief according to the Kubler-Ross model: denial, anger, bargaining, depression and finally acceptance. In the time that had elapsed before the news about Bob Woolmer, most would probably have been in one of the first two stages.
However, at some point between denial and anger, the word was out that Mr. Woolmer had died. Needless to say, every cricket follower was in shock. The initial reports about his health and other circumstances surrounding his death were contradictory. This morning though, the Jamaican police stated definitively that Mr. Woolmer had been asphyxiated by strangulation. He most likely was killed by someone who he knew - one needed to swipe a card to even get on to his floor at the hotel, and there were no signs of a forced entry. Mr. Woolmer was also a big man, and it could have taken more than one person to subdue him.
NDTV reports that after Pakistan's elimination from the World Cup, Mr. Woolmer had emailed his decision to resign as coach to a member of the Pakistan Cricket Board. As of now, all the Pakistani cricketers have been questioned (Inzamam for an hour), fingerprinted and possibly DNA-tested. They have also been asked to not leave the islands for a little while longer. Interestingly, NDTV also spoke to Dinesh Kaneria, who was in the room next to Mr. Woolmer's and who stated that he had not heard any unusual noises coming from the coach's room. The mystery deepens and the investigations continue.
This incident illustrates perfectly just how seriously we South Asians take our cricket, that is, far too seriously. After all, at the end of the day, it IS just a game. I don't mean to say that one should not be passionate about it, but rather that losses should not inspire malicious and malevolent acts like burning effigies of the cricketers or destroying the new house that Mahendra Dhoni is building. As for murdering the team coach? COME ON!!! This kind of maniacal fanaticism can only be detrimental to the sport. For instance, it would now require quite an intrepid soul to take on the responsibility coaching the Pakistan (or Indian) team.
What a dark chapter in the history of cricket this World Cup has turned out to be! From what I have read, Mr. Woolmer was somewhat of a controversial coach in terms of testing the boundaries, but he also cared for teams he coached and the direction they were going in. My condolences go to Mr. Woolmer's family as well as his friends and colleagues who will be trying to cope with his senseless death. I also fervently hope that all the cricket fanatics realize that no sport, no team and no person is worth this sort of intense idolatry.
Sunday, March 11, 2007
Applying to Grad School
What a truly horribly gut-wrenching, agonizing and (almost) soul-crushing exercise this is!!
It begins with the GREs - one of the biggest rip-offs perpetuated on us already impoverished 20-something folks. Not only is there a hefty fee for taking the test, but there is an additional charge for sending your scores to more than four schools. All of which would be acceptable, were it not completely meaningless and pointless. It is not really a test of your abilities, but more a have-you-learned-the-tricks-to-beat-this-thing sort of an endeavor. I'm not even sure what the schools actually learn about their prospective students from these test scores. Hopefully, the powers that be in graduate schools will do away with this colossal waste of time, energy and money the way some undergraduate colleges are beginning to not require the SATs.
This is then followed by the selection of the colleges you want to apply to. (Ideally, one looks into this prior to taking the GREs, but I'm not that one.) If, like me, you're interested in Clinical Neuropsychology, you will soon find out that there is no such thing as a perfect program. This is just one of those quirky laws of the universe. Consider the following: a program doing research in your area of interest, a good location, good financial aid packages and a good reputation. I know you are thinking at this point that this is only four variables. Surely, it wouldn't be so difficult. It is. I could put the following statement in stone: No program will do better than 3 out of 4. Each program WILL involve some sacrifice on your part. For instance, you could be in a great location in a not-so-great program. Or the program will be everything you want, but in the back of beyond the middle of nowhere.
Once you have selected the best of the "3 out of 4" programs, you begin the applications, namely the much dreaded personal statement where you try convey to a group of strangers that you are brilliant, kind and decent, or in short, a worthy nominee for a Nobel peace prize. After much head scratching and hair pulling, I finished mine, but to be honest, I still am clueless as to what the admissions committee is looking for.
Upon completion of the glowing testimonial to yourself, the waiting game begins. This is when you wait for interview calls. Six or more weeks of "Was I good enough or did they find me lacking in some essentials?" Nothing quite like this time to bring you down a peg or two.
Finally, the calls for the interviews come in and you begin to feel validated. You make your travel arrangements (thereby burning another hole in your wallet) and arrive at the school bright-eyed and bushy-tailed, ready to convince your interviewers that you are the best thing that would ever happen to this school. EVER. However, lest your confidence levels are high and you are reasonably assured of your own competence, you learn that this is an extremely competitive program and that 75% of the people present will not make the cut. Shaken though you might be, you nevertheless, put on your best interview face and try to emerge unscathed at the end. Sometimes, you are lucky enough to have an interviewer with whom you can really connect, but occasionally, you come across one that appears to be like a benign Mother Theresa but is actually a pit bull or a rottweiler on the inside and relishes the process of shredding you to bits.
Having survived the interviews (some barely by the skin of your teeth), you have to wait some more. During this time, you imagine all the permutations and combinations of schools you get into or are rejected from and then have to decide which of the schools you get into would best make you happy. Since all of these schools have "3 out of 4" programs anyway, a daunting task lies ahead.
This is the stage I am at right now. When people ask me how I'm doing, I tell them I'm fine. (What they don't know is that I mean the "fine" as described in The Italian Job - Freaked out, Insecure, Neurotic and Emotional.) I haven't received any offers from any of the schools, but somehow I have convinced myself that if I do, no matter which school I pick, it is going to be the wrong choice. I can practically feel the ulcer in my stomach.
More on this when I hear back from my programs. Sigh.
It begins with the GREs - one of the biggest rip-offs perpetuated on us already impoverished 20-something folks. Not only is there a hefty fee for taking the test, but there is an additional charge for sending your scores to more than four schools. All of which would be acceptable, were it not completely meaningless and pointless. It is not really a test of your abilities, but more a have-you-learned-the-tricks-to-beat-this-thing sort of an endeavor. I'm not even sure what the schools actually learn about their prospective students from these test scores. Hopefully, the powers that be in graduate schools will do away with this colossal waste of time, energy and money the way some undergraduate colleges are beginning to not require the SATs.
This is then followed by the selection of the colleges you want to apply to. (Ideally, one looks into this prior to taking the GREs, but I'm not that one.) If, like me, you're interested in Clinical Neuropsychology, you will soon find out that there is no such thing as a perfect program. This is just one of those quirky laws of the universe. Consider the following: a program doing research in your area of interest, a good location, good financial aid packages and a good reputation. I know you are thinking at this point that this is only four variables. Surely, it wouldn't be so difficult. It is. I could put the following statement in stone: No program will do better than 3 out of 4. Each program WILL involve some sacrifice on your part. For instance, you could be in a great location in a not-so-great program. Or the program will be everything you want, but in the back of beyond the middle of nowhere.
Once you have selected the best of the "3 out of 4" programs, you begin the applications, namely the much dreaded personal statement where you try convey to a group of strangers that you are brilliant, kind and decent, or in short, a worthy nominee for a Nobel peace prize. After much head scratching and hair pulling, I finished mine, but to be honest, I still am clueless as to what the admissions committee is looking for.
Upon completion of the glowing testimonial to yourself, the waiting game begins. This is when you wait for interview calls. Six or more weeks of "Was I good enough or did they find me lacking in some essentials?" Nothing quite like this time to bring you down a peg or two.
Finally, the calls for the interviews come in and you begin to feel validated. You make your travel arrangements (thereby burning another hole in your wallet) and arrive at the school bright-eyed and bushy-tailed, ready to convince your interviewers that you are the best thing that would ever happen to this school. EVER. However, lest your confidence levels are high and you are reasonably assured of your own competence, you learn that this is an extremely competitive program and that 75% of the people present will not make the cut. Shaken though you might be, you nevertheless, put on your best interview face and try to emerge unscathed at the end. Sometimes, you are lucky enough to have an interviewer with whom you can really connect, but occasionally, you come across one that appears to be like a benign Mother Theresa but is actually a pit bull or a rottweiler on the inside and relishes the process of shredding you to bits.
Having survived the interviews (some barely by the skin of your teeth), you have to wait some more. During this time, you imagine all the permutations and combinations of schools you get into or are rejected from and then have to decide which of the schools you get into would best make you happy. Since all of these schools have "3 out of 4" programs anyway, a daunting task lies ahead.
This is the stage I am at right now. When people ask me how I'm doing, I tell them I'm fine. (What they don't know is that I mean the "fine" as described in The Italian Job - Freaked out, Insecure, Neurotic and Emotional.) I haven't received any offers from any of the schools, but somehow I have convinced myself that if I do, no matter which school I pick, it is going to be the wrong choice. I can practically feel the ulcer in my stomach.
More on this when I hear back from my programs. Sigh.
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