Farewell Robin, and thanks for all the finishes

Now that the flaring embers that emerged when van Persie called it quits at Arsenal are slowly beginning to cool, I can't help but point out how most fans are poised to offer him a knee-jerk shove off rather than a fitting adieu to a player who most single-handedly kept us in champions league contention and on the right side of the table with regard to Spurs.

 The biggest mistake people make, more so in anger or disappointment, is to equate a difference of opinion to disrespect. Here, a statement saying that a player disagrees with the board of directors doesn't make him a Samir Nasri or an Ashley Cole. Personally, looking at its particular reluctance to sign big names over recent years, I feel that Arsenal is playing amazing football not because of its board, but in spite of it. All credit to Wenger and his staff for being so amazing. Just look at the valuation of players at Arsenal in the market, or their performance in international competitions. Arsenal as a team delivers much more than the sum of its individual players. My views on the Arsenal board's strategy are vindicated here and Robin finds a lot of former Arsenal players agreeing with him here. Notice how they are subtlety critical of the board too.

The biggest bogey that follows the Arsenal approach is the glorious success that the Invincibles brought us in the 2003-04 season. A similar strategy magically culminated in the mushrooming of legends like Bergkamp, Henry, Pires and Ljunberg at Highbury. But that sort of success is rare, considering how we haven't won squat for 7 years now. 7 years during which a player saw himself going from the age of 21 to 28. If that doesn't ring alarm bells, I don't know what will. We lost huge names when Cesc Fabregas and Samir Nasri left last season. We can't replace them with an Arteta, or even Gervinho, and be contented. One season on, which saw us particularly struggling in the defence and the creative midfield, there is still no attempt to bolster these areas.

One standard retort that fans think would justify Arsenal's parsimony over the entire last decade has been the signings of Giourd and Podolski. You don't give a drunkard a clean chit for one day's worth of abstinence. Chronic habits die hard. It will take a lot of good buying to change that image of Arsenal. Besides, our problem areas, our midfield and our defence haven't been addressed. Instead we go ahead and buy two strikers. The discussions at the van Persie vs. Arsenal board meeting must've gone something like this.

v. Persie: You guys haven't made any attempts to replace Cesc and Samir.


Board: We're aware of that. Let us talk about the contract. Shall we?


v. Persie: What about our defence? We conceded 49 times last season. That's 9 more goals than Liverpool at 8th place, and 3 more than Sunderland at 13th. Any new signings to fix that?


Board: Sure! We roped in Podolski and Giourd.

I don't know which "player of the season" would put up with this harebrained board.

All said and done, there is genius that is nurtured at Arsenal season after season. The exit of Henry saw the consummation of a brilliant Fabregas and Nasri. Their exit saw van Persie rise to the occasion. But don't you see a pattern here? Just as players get good enough at Arsenal, they get disillusioned and leave. Their decisions have been justified too, seeing as how Henry has won every title he possibly can and Cesc is riding high on the Barca bandwagon and is sure to win something very soon. Nasri's premier league win gave him a much needed last laugh at a hapless gallery of fans who've learnt to take failure after failure with misplaced hopes that their stars will continue to be loyal to their team. Loyalty is usually accompanied by a reward, which players at Arsenal last saw 8 seasons prior.

As a good friend rightly pointed out, Arsenal fans have responded to van Persie's rejection just as teens do when they break up badly. Here at Arsenal we're hanging on by a thread. We're fortunate to have seen the coming of great players year after year to fill the void left by their predecessors. However, if this continues, there might come a season where this might not happen. The upset of this precarious balance will see Arsenal sink to an abyss which is going to be very hard to crawl out of. When that fateful day dawns, there won't be any great players leaving the club for fans to be mad at; just the pitiful, namesake remnants of a great era, much like the later Mughals.

The stark differences between Hindutva and Hinduism

That the fanatical propagators of the Hindutva menace invoke Hindu pride and heritage to aid their petty arguments has been a constant source of irk. I recently read a well researched book called "Being Different" authored by a startlingly bold thinker called Rajiv Malhotra. Hindutva and Hinduism are actually poles apart. (In this entire post, I refer to Hindutva as the fanatical, extreme right wing movement associated with it in the present day.)

What is ironical is that Hindutva proponents end up mirroring the acts and the agendas of the extremists of other religions, whom they hold out as their adversaries. The Hindutva approach has always been one of fighting fire with fire. They counter aggressive conversion with aggression and violence. They raise the whole façade of "Hinduism in danger" and call all faithful Hindus to arms, in several walks of life, ranging from politics to mindless rioting on streets. Most importantly, the history centric nature of the Hindutva debate really stands out.

History centrism  is a feature that is characteristic of Abrahamic religions. As defined by Malhotra, it is the unwavering and unquestionable faith that is placed on certain historical events, like the resurrection of Christ or Moses' rendezvous with God on Mt Sinai where he was given the ten commandments. History in the traditional Hindu schools has always been a mutable story which can be amended as per the views of the author who chooses to write it. The authenticity of a historical document doesn't play as significant a role in Hindu thought as the relevance of its interpretations to the times in which it is authored. The factual particulars mentioned within these texts are never given any authority. For instance, there are three renowned versions of the Ramayana, authored by the ancient sage Valmiki, the 13th century Tamil poet Kamban and the 16th century bhakti saint Tulsidas who wrote in Awadhi. These versions are so vastly different when considered factually. However, each version was relevant to its time and fit perfectly into the social milieu of its authorship. Which version is more factually correct is entirely irrelevant.

This brings me to the primary bone of contention that the advocates of Hindutva place before the Indian populace: The Ram Mandir issue. Starting from the destruction of the Babri Masjid, moving on to the Gujarat pogrom of 2002 and the 5 years of power that the BJP enjoyed, all of these events hinged upon the manipulation of the sensibilities of the Indian masses using the Ayodhya issue. Ironically, it is entirely irrelevant to the Hindu school of thought as to whether Rama was born in Ayodhya of the present day or if his temple really existed there. Rama, who is held out as the exemplary Uttama Purusha in Hindu tradition, has had to lend his name to revolting organisations such as the Ram Janmabhoomi Nyas.

Hindutva has all the despicable elements to leave true followers of Hinduism shame faced: several irresponsible youth groups, a fanatical body that twiddles the strings of its political party, armed militants and a history of mindless religious violence among several other unspeakable agendas. Hinduism has a history of mutual respect for other religions. Two other dharmic religions have taken birth in the lap of Hinduism without any opposition: Jainism and Buddhism. It has been a faith that is always accommodative of alternate paths to God. Never in the Vedas is it written anywhere that only a specific path leads to Moksha. I've grown up reciting prayers like the one below.

आकाशात् पतितम् तोयम् यथा गच्छति सागरम् ।

सर्वदेव नमस्कारः केशवम् प्रति गच्छति ॥

This prayer roughly translates to "Just as all the water that pours out of the sky ends up flowing into the same ocean, all the obeisances offered to the various gods find their way to the supreme being."

It is this legacy of Hinduism that Hindutva seeks to tarnish. In the face of their aggressive tactics not working, these "Kar-Sevaks" merely resort to more aggression. All this is perpetrated in the name of a religion that doesn't, by any stretch of imagination, lend their arguments any credibility. Hinduism is in danger mostly from the manner in which Hindutva is carried forth in the present day. We will never truly be a free nation until we see the eradication of the Hindutva menace.

ओं शान्ति शान्ति शान्ति हि|

The TCS 10K, Bangalore rerun

Since I was stuck in Namma Bengaluru for yet another year, I decided to give the TCS 10K run another shot. I'll cease to call it a marathon because while a marathon is a mammoth 42.2 km, this run is barely 10. Here's my take on last year's event.

Frequent e-mail reminders ensured that I registered on time and also convinced a friend or two to join. The registration this time around was smooth and didn't remind me of passport applications. The goody bag pick-up, which was strategically located in the midst of a promotional exhibition (again!) went on smoothly as well. This edition's goody bag, while retaining its share of men's cosmetics, wasn't as much of a punching bag. It had a 7 day pass to Gold's Gym! (which I just noticed). The organisers had learnt. They offered to sell me a pass to park at UB city, which I brushed aside, thinking it was unnecessary trouble.

The run up 

Unlike last time, I actually trained for this year's run. I ran for about 20 days of the 40 days that counted down to the race. I could spare only half an hour in the wee hours of the morning for the training and ended up running 5 kilometres on most of these days. I touched the 10 km mark on two consecutive days of a weekend. I didn't measure my time on any of these occasions too seriously but I thought I always clocked in under 50 minutes. My running tracks were more undulating than the race's track which led me to think that I'd do better on the latter. I also happened to read Lance Armstrong’s amazing biography in the days leading up to the run. His biography, titled “It’s not about the bike”, reads really well. It celebrates endurance sport in a manner that is truly inspirational, among other things.

Race day!

I was determined to reach the venue early so that I avoid getting slowed down by the crowding at the start line. I reached the vicinity of Kanteerava stadium half an hour early, but just when I could see the indoor stadium's strange looking dome, our lane was abruptly halted by a cop. An assortment of vehicles, of which I was an integral part, waited patiently for the traffic police to signal it through. Seconds turned into minutes and quiet waiting gave way to the blaring of impatient horns, which the traffic cop handled nonchalantly, seeing as how his profession involves the cultivation of a skin that is at least as thick as that of a well fed water-buffalo. Most faces around sported a look of bewilderment laced with disbelief at their 7:30 AM Sunday drive being so rudely interrupted with no sign of resumption. Only when somebody walked up to the cop did we realise that we had to wait for a political convoy to pass. On realising this, most people resigned to their fate and stopped honking. Everyone in our country is forced to grow water-buffalo skins one way or the other.

On finding a parking space at the Bangalore City Corporation Office, which was strangely empty, my decision to not buy that parking chit was completely vindicated (or so I thought). I jogged to the nearest gate of the stadium while dodging traffic to find a volunteer keenly scrutinising our running bibs. He looked at mine and pointed to a tiny little ‘B’ written in the corner. “Kindly go to Gate-B near Mallya hospital. You’re already late,” he informed. I finally made my way to Gate-B having run a kilometre already! On the bright side, this exercise served as warm up.

The gates were opened in an orderly fashion this time. Luckily for me, gate B opened rather early. In spite of the organisers limiting registration this year, the start line ended up reminding me of an Indian pilgrimage site. The funnel design for the running track was still in vogue and people did end up walking barely 100m after the start line because of crowding. The first kilometre of my race saw me rushing ahead, pushing hard just so that I can get past the sizable mass, which had assembled there that morning just to wave at the television cameras. I kept telling myself that an initial push would serve me well just so that I can get past this chaotic mass, replete with abrupt collisions that some scientist watching overhead could have used to model Brownian motion.

A board nearby announced that I had crossed one kilometre and I could see pockets of space opening up. I was now left running with all the people who had surged past the crowd and were now leading the race. I then proceeded to continue, keeping pace with those around me. I gulped down a glass of Gatorade, which wasn’t mixed properly. I ran alongside this person wearing a T-shirt that claimed he was from the Territorial Army. After a while, he slowed down a little and I surged ahead, looking for other people to run alongside with. I thought I was doing great!

The 4.5 kilometre mark was past and I suddenly started wearing. I pushed on for half a kilometre more and halted at a water point. I drank a little off the bottle and slowed down. There was a niggling pain in my chest that had never been so assertive during my training. The worst part about this pain is that even if I slowed down, it increased, until I had to walk a few paces. Mr Territorial Army man and a host of others I had swaggered past caught up with me and left me far behind. My head was a filled with a sense of bewilderment and disappointment. I thought I’d finish far behind last year’s time, after training so much more. I had done the unthinkable in a long distance race, twice! I walked. The water that I drank earlier was churning in my stomach, sending up burps to rudely interrupt my panting. I had bonked out as Lance Armstrong would call it. 

I convinced myself to salvage whatever I could from the race and slowly pushed on. I started jogging and building up my rhythm, while analysing what could’ve gone wrong. Was it because of the sun’s presence? Was it because I pushed too hard while keeping up with much fitter people? The kilometres ticked away very slowly. I just crossed a board saying 7 km were up.

When I proceeded to the 8^th kilometre, my rhythm was back and my chest pain was gone. A flood of reason came rushing in. I had tired so quickly because of all those 5 km training runs. My body automatically slipped into a pace where I’d be exhausted at the end of 5 km. This, coupled with the other factors that I mentioned before, did me in just after the 5 km mark. After a brief period of rest, I was fine. It was time to finish this race strong. There were people all along the race track cheering runners on with banners like: “After the pain goes away, only the pride remains.” Each time we runners thanked these people, they cheered a little louder, giving us much needed encouragement and little bursts of adrenalin. After the 9 km mark, I picked up pace steadily. With 500 m left, I was sprinting ahead, screaming to myself to get the adrenalin pumping. I finished the last bit of the race strong and checked my watch. I had finished in about 49 min (49:09), which was a huge relief. I missed the quarter of an hour mark by a really long shot, but was better than last year’s 51:44. Any endurance competition is a race against your own self, and every minute gained counts. I finished the race a full 500 m ahead of last year's performance, considering average speed.

The aftermath

On the other side of the finish line, I saw all the people who had done better than me. A man who looked at least 60 years old had finished in 45 min! I respectfully shook his hand, humbled thoroughly. I also congratulated Mr Territorial Army man. Finishing among the front runners (if I could call them that) is a much more humbling experience than it would appear. After the pain goes away, you are left with something much more valuable than pride: humility.   

I slowly ambled back to my two wheeler which I presumed was safely inside the Corporation Office. To my dismay, I saw that it was a little too safe! All the gates to that building were closed, locked and manned by security guards. I asked one of them how I could get out. He told me to try the other gate, though he was wholly pessimistic of my chances. I almost regretted not having purchased that parking pass. I slowly rode to the other gate and on seeing me, the guard manning it saluted. I duly saluted back, which brought upon his face a big smile that reminded me of a child whose relative had just given him a bagful of foreign chocolates! He swung the gate open and I was off. 

I have consistently painted a rosy picture of this event’s organisation thus far. However, when I returned that afternoon to have lunch in the whereabouts of the running track, I noticed that there was a lot of trash left behind on the streets. This was extremely disappointing. Even while organising such enriching events, the corporate world doesn’t think twice before taking its dump on the city’s already weak civic infrastructure. May our buffalo skins grow ever thicker.

I have realised that running is something I should practice around the year rather than the month before these events. When you run at an optimal speed, your body expends as much energy as it can continuously produce, letting you run on and on without tiring. I like to call this wonderful phenomenon The Indefatigable Rhythm. I never feel more alive than when I hit this rhythm. Running in the mornings also ensures that one stays amazingly vital for the remainder of the day. I was also untouched by the usual bouts of sneezing or the running nose that Bangalore keeps giving me. I have decided to intersperse running, cycling and yoga into an exercise schedule that I should follow. Let us see how that shapes up.

  

The story of Rushdie's non arrival

The Events

Jan 4th, 2012: Word is out that Salman Rushdie has been invited to the Jaipur Literature Festival, an annual event that has grown by leaps and bounds in its popularity since its inception in 2006.  

http://articles.timesofindia.indiatimes.com/2012-01-04/books/30588541_1_salman-rushdie-midnight-s-children-jaipur-literature-festival

Islamic groups across India protest his invitation to the festival and demand that he not set foot on Indian soil. Apparently, a ban on his "blasphemous" book in a country  that believes itself to be secular and also in free speech, just wasn't enough. On confrontation with these facts, they cite the American Govt's act of cancelling Narendra Modi's US visa as exemplary. (Yes. They'd like to equate the Gujarat pogrom to the writing of Satanic Verses.)

Jan 19th, 2012 (Thursday): Islamic groups that were planning major protests on Friday, the 20th of Jan, to coincide with the festival's opening, announce that these protests are cancelled. The reason: A Congress MP from Jaipur's assurance that Mr Rushdie would be kept away throughout the festival period.   

http://www.thehindu.com/todays-paper/article2816193.ece

Jan 20th, 2012 (Friday): Rushdie announces the cancellation of his visit to India citing rumours of paid underworld assassins set loose after his life. Livid authors at the festival start reading out from Satic Verses, his book that has been banned in India.

http://ibnlive.in.com/news/satanic-verses-read-at-jaipur-literature-festival/222731-40-103.html

The Congress spokesperson Abhishek Manu Singhvi issued the following statement: "If an individual author feels threatened about his own security, I think you and I must all respect his right not to take chances with his own life and liberty."

Cited from the video on this link. http://www.ndtv.com/article/india/salman-rushdie-skips-jaipur-literature-festival-says-he-was-warned-of-paid-assassins-168919

Mr Singhvi makes this statement in an attempt to sound like a magnanimous person respecting the rights of an individual's concern for safety. However, he conveniently fails to highlight that his government, whose duty it is to snub these Islamic extremists and ensure Rushdie's safety (and liberty!), has pitifully failed to do so.  

Summing Up

On the surface, the government tries to assure its citizens that it did nothing to prevent Mr Rushdie's arrival and that the author's decision not to arrive in India was his own, trying to score points on how it is being large minded in respecting that decision. 

Beneath the surface, the Congress tells the protesting Islamic groups that it has successfully prevented the arrival of the blasphemer, Salman Rushdie, on Indian soil. (Sure to be used for brownie points in election rallies.) 

News on Indian Television: Endangered Species

All through my life, I've been hard-wired to switch on the television at 9 PM and spend the next half an hour looking at the news. Each day spent without completing this ritual would feel a little incomplete. Off late, however, I've been steadily losing interest in the 9 o'clock news so much so that it even repels me on some days.

The reason: televised debates hosted either by incompetent anchors or by blatant bullies whose only motives are to throw their weight and their opinions around these debates. Debates you say? Opinions? Weren't we just talking about the news? Well, the boundaries between news and opinions have completely dissolved in the world of Indian news channels. And what's more? These debates sorely lack any intelligent quality. They are just shout-offs where the panellist with the mightier voice always has the last word (However, on Times Now, Arnab always does).

The country we live in is mighty large. There is enough news to report in any one of our cities to sustain whole news channels and newspapers. There is clearly no dearth of good material that wants reporting. Instead, must we spend 25 out of our precious 30 news minutes watching a discussion on whether the Govt of India's ego is bigger than its chief of army staff or whether the seniors in the Indian cricket team are mollycoddled? (Yes. Arnab, who makes no bones about expressing his passionate take on every news item, does think so.)

The root cause of this affliction is the average Indian's love for melodrama. It is as if everything on television that is worth watching must resemble a Saans Bahu soap opera. Even news! In the absence of any other examples, the success story of TV9 alone is a major facepalm moment for the Indian television audience. It is as if we have a penchant for having our intelligence insulted.

I hold that the last bastion of good reporting in India is the existence of newspapers like The Hindu. The content published in a newspaper is a subjective matter and varies with the taste of the reader. However, the style of reporting and the professionalism that goes into it can be put more easily to judgement. The firm stance that the editors of The Hindu have taken on how its content is to be published is inspirational. Rather than bow down to an abyss by catering to the baser tendencies of the masses, they've maintained a calibre that has given them a faithful niche of unswervingly loyal readers. Niche markets are clearly the way forward in services that cater to a large section of any population. Only that way you can ensure that not too many people outside of the majority are left out. Whether it be music, books or other hobbies, I always find myself outside the circles that are crowded with the vast Indian majority. However, niche markets in all these domains have ensured that I'm not left out.

Televised news needs a channel that is dedicated to good, neutral reportage, rather than sinking to whatever depths the thirst for popularity drags it down to. The Hindu could probably start its own news channel. I am tired of scripted melodramas being passed off as news. We need a channel that doesn't look at every incident as an opportunity to gain TRPs and subsequently make a killing in the advertising market.