India stamped its presence on the world bridge scene this week with an excellent show at the 3rd European Open Bridge Championships. The Indian team Texan Aces reached the finals, losing to the French team Bessis 117-91 in a hard fought contest. This is the first time that an Indian team has gone past the quarterfinal stage in a major international championship. If you're wondering why an Indian team would call itself that, it's because the team captain, G. Venkatesh, is nicknamed "Texas" back in sunny California, where he lives now.
It says something about my life when I pick up Hugh Kelsey's Advanced Play at Bridge for casual reading on a train journey, and forget to watch the India - South Africa cricket match but remember to watch the aforementioned bridge final. But I am not alone. My partner for the chennai club scene asseverates that he will join me for our weekly game at the T.Nagar social club even if he has to come straight from his office. My friends who graduated with me from IITM two years ago, now spread across different time zones, still find time for the occasional online game. The Indian Bridge Federation has started conducting a Junior National Bridge Championship every year, in which travel and other expenses for all players are compensated. The IIT Kharagpur bridge team even has a coach, Sumit Mukherjee, who is a member of the Texan Aces team - or at least, they had when I last met them.
It is a sad but true fact that Indian sports fail to get infrastructure unless our performance on the international circuit is good. This throws us in a vicious loop, for unless we have the funds to coach young players, how will we do well? Look at the chess scene in India before and after Viswanathan Anand... happened, for lack of a better word. Today, nobody will dare underestimate an Indian player at an international chess tourney. Bridge needs a similar revolution, but I am confident that it is not far away. Indian teams have been consistently improving in their performance at world championships, and with a little encouragement for the junior players, we will be on par with the best teams in the world pretty soon.
Cheers,
Prashanth.
Wednesday, June 27, 2007
Tuesday, June 26, 2007
Tomatoes and Onions
I hate them.
That's right, I hate eating tomatoes and onions.
The normal reaction to this is one of disbelief, and in my defense all I can say is that everybody hates some vegetables. Well, the ones I hate are tomatoes and onions. I don't even mind eating bitter gourd. Really!
Of course, having likes and dislikes is something adults cannot afford most of the time (one of the few lessons I have learnt in my admittedly short life thus far), and after eating in a hostel mess for five years and a mixture of my roommates' cooking and my own cooking for another two years, I've learnt to close my nose and swallow anything that pretends to be food. Still, I surprised myself with how well I learned that lesson this week.
See, I went to a friend's house for lunch this weekend, and not knowing my food preferences, the first thing they served me was a tomato-onion-bhath-type thing. Another thing I've learnt in my short existence is manners, so I ate without protest, if a little slower than usual. In the old days I would have either declined or sat picking out every piece of tomato and onion from it before eating.
It was not my imagination - I really ate what would at one time be like climbing Mt. Everest for me, and I didn't gag and I didn't mind it that much. Still, I didn't completely surprise myself, because of something that happened in January.
I had come back from the US after 18 months there and my Mom was careful to serve food I liked. Of course, that didn't stop her from making the usual snide comments on how picky our little prince was when it came to food.
Perhaps it was the tone that made me out to be a spoilt little brat. Perhaps it was the fact that my parents really don't know how far I have come from my high school days - no matter what my Mother like to pretend, she has no idea how much life at IIT changed me. I heard her telling someone the other day that I don't drink coffe. Imagine! Like I was still a teenager!
But I digress. The short of it is that I lost my temper, and told my Mom squarely that I have grown up and I proceeded to prove it by picking up a small onion - raw - and eating it in front of them (taking care not to wince at each bite). You won't believe the deafening silence at the dining table.
My Mom is actually proud of me for that particular demonstration, but I am not so sure it is something to be happy about. To me, this is symbolic of a lot of things wrong in my life. It means that not only am I willing to make sacrifices and compromises on my preferences and principles, I have reached the stage where I actually don't mind doing so. It is not so much the fact that I am giving in that irks me, but the fact that I have come to accept that it needs to be done.
In case you have missed the point, I am not talking talking about tomatoes and onions anymore. I am talking about the mentality that drives people into submission willingly. I am more sympathetic of why women in India don't do more to fight for their rights, having first hand experience of a similar sort. It has to do with society and family and duty and a lot of things I don't want to go into - any Indian would understand the kind of thing I am talking about.
I am not trying to say that I have been repressed or stifled deliberately. In fact, my family has given me every opportunity to do what I like, without placing too many demands on me. I would probably just put it this way: I am coming to understand my duties and responsibilities, which arise by simply being part of a family and a society. And I don't like what I am seeing. I may be a little dense at times but I am not so stupid as to run from responsibility. Or from my family. Or from my country. Even though I can - all I have to do is put my foot down and I can live my life the way I want in the USA and never come back. That's simply not who I am.
I'm sure a good number of people reading this blog understand what I am going through. I would appreciate any advice dropped in the comment box. If I have to summarize this entire post in one sentence, I would say this: I ate a raw onion one day to make a point; I did make my point, but if anybody won a victory that day, it wasn't me.
Cheers,
Prashanth.
That's right, I hate eating tomatoes and onions.
The normal reaction to this is one of disbelief, and in my defense all I can say is that everybody hates some vegetables. Well, the ones I hate are tomatoes and onions. I don't even mind eating bitter gourd. Really!
Of course, having likes and dislikes is something adults cannot afford most of the time (one of the few lessons I have learnt in my admittedly short life thus far), and after eating in a hostel mess for five years and a mixture of my roommates' cooking and my own cooking for another two years, I've learnt to close my nose and swallow anything that pretends to be food. Still, I surprised myself with how well I learned that lesson this week.
See, I went to a friend's house for lunch this weekend, and not knowing my food preferences, the first thing they served me was a tomato-onion-bhath-type thing. Another thing I've learnt in my short existence is manners, so I ate without protest, if a little slower than usual. In the old days I would have either declined or sat picking out every piece of tomato and onion from it before eating.
It was not my imagination - I really ate what would at one time be like climbing Mt. Everest for me, and I didn't gag and I didn't mind it that much. Still, I didn't completely surprise myself, because of something that happened in January.
I had come back from the US after 18 months there and my Mom was careful to serve food I liked. Of course, that didn't stop her from making the usual snide comments on how picky our little prince was when it came to food.
Perhaps it was the tone that made me out to be a spoilt little brat. Perhaps it was the fact that my parents really don't know how far I have come from my high school days - no matter what my Mother like to pretend, she has no idea how much life at IIT changed me. I heard her telling someone the other day that I don't drink coffe. Imagine! Like I was still a teenager!
But I digress. The short of it is that I lost my temper, and told my Mom squarely that I have grown up and I proceeded to prove it by picking up a small onion - raw - and eating it in front of them (taking care not to wince at each bite). You won't believe the deafening silence at the dining table.
My Mom is actually proud of me for that particular demonstration, but I am not so sure it is something to be happy about. To me, this is symbolic of a lot of things wrong in my life. It means that not only am I willing to make sacrifices and compromises on my preferences and principles, I have reached the stage where I actually don't mind doing so. It is not so much the fact that I am giving in that irks me, but the fact that I have come to accept that it needs to be done.
In case you have missed the point, I am not talking talking about tomatoes and onions anymore. I am talking about the mentality that drives people into submission willingly. I am more sympathetic of why women in India don't do more to fight for their rights, having first hand experience of a similar sort. It has to do with society and family and duty and a lot of things I don't want to go into - any Indian would understand the kind of thing I am talking about.
I am not trying to say that I have been repressed or stifled deliberately. In fact, my family has given me every opportunity to do what I like, without placing too many demands on me. I would probably just put it this way: I am coming to understand my duties and responsibilities, which arise by simply being part of a family and a society. And I don't like what I am seeing. I may be a little dense at times but I am not so stupid as to run from responsibility. Or from my family. Or from my country. Even though I can - all I have to do is put my foot down and I can live my life the way I want in the USA and never come back. That's simply not who I am.
I'm sure a good number of people reading this blog understand what I am going through. I would appreciate any advice dropped in the comment box. If I have to summarize this entire post in one sentence, I would say this: I ate a raw onion one day to make a point; I did make my point, but if anybody won a victory that day, it wasn't me.
Cheers,
Prashanth.
Sunday, June 17, 2007
"US Return"
This week I was visiting my grandparents in the town of Salem, where I have enough cousins that I won't get bored. One day I went to the video store with one of my cousins to get a couple of movies. As I chatted with him and sifted through the movies, the store owner asked, "Are you a US Return?"
Imagine my surprise! I was quite positive that nothing in our conversation gave away the fact that I'd spent some time in the States. I even checked with my cousin after we left the store if I'd picked up an American accent in these two years, and he said I haven't. In any case I had been speaking in Telugu... er... Telugu mixed with a little English. Okay, a lot of English. But I am positive I don't have an accent.
And then it struck me. I was wearing knee-length shorts. I suspect that in a town the size of Salem, only someone from abroad would dare go out in broad daylight wearing shorts :)
I've watched enough movies and serials in Telugu and Tamil to know the Cardinal Sins of a US Return.
Sin #1: A US Return cannot speak the local languages well. He mixes it with > 50% English.
Verdict: Guilty.
Sin #2: A US Return has a pronounced American accent.
Verdict: Not guilty.
Sin #3: A US Return is (almost by definition) a snob.
Verdict: Hmmm.... possibly guilty :P
Sin #4: A US Return wears shorts almost all the time in this blazing summer.
Verdict: Guilty.
Miscellaneous sins: A US Return guzzles alcohol, smokes a pack of cigarettes a day, chews gum, and sleeps with random women.
Verdict: What the...? I've been watching too many Telugu movies....
Cheers,
Prashanth.
Imagine my surprise! I was quite positive that nothing in our conversation gave away the fact that I'd spent some time in the States. I even checked with my cousin after we left the store if I'd picked up an American accent in these two years, and he said I haven't. In any case I had been speaking in Telugu... er... Telugu mixed with a little English. Okay, a lot of English. But I am positive I don't have an accent.
And then it struck me. I was wearing knee-length shorts. I suspect that in a town the size of Salem, only someone from abroad would dare go out in broad daylight wearing shorts :)
I've watched enough movies and serials in Telugu and Tamil to know the Cardinal Sins of a US Return.
Sin #1: A US Return cannot speak the local languages well. He mixes it with > 50% English.
Verdict: Guilty.
Sin #2: A US Return has a pronounced American accent.
Verdict: Not guilty.
Sin #3: A US Return is (almost by definition) a snob.
Verdict: Hmmm.... possibly guilty :P
Sin #4: A US Return wears shorts almost all the time in this blazing summer.
Verdict: Guilty.
Miscellaneous sins: A US Return guzzles alcohol, smokes a pack of cigarettes a day, chews gum, and sleeps with random women.
Verdict: What the...? I've been watching too many Telugu movies....
Cheers,
Prashanth.
Thursday, June 07, 2007
Tread carefully...
Some twenty-odd women meeting in my house.
I squeeze in through the mass to pick up a plate and get my lunch.
My family lectures me if I stay aloof, so I eat with them instead of going back to my room and utter polite greetings and "Yes, my health is just super now, thank you" when asked.
I say something about a relative and get shushed because his grandmother is in the room and may have heard me.
One of the women steps out of the house for a few minutes and now the other women start talking about her.
Apparently it is okay to say anything behind someone's back, but not to their face or in front of their relatives.
All talk is loud.
All jokes are facetious.
They think I ought to get married, and my age is still 23.
A circle of women is a nest of vipers. Tread carefully, or don't tread at all.
Cheers
Prashanth.
I squeeze in through the mass to pick up a plate and get my lunch.
My family lectures me if I stay aloof, so I eat with them instead of going back to my room and utter polite greetings and "Yes, my health is just super now, thank you" when asked.
I say something about a relative and get shushed because his grandmother is in the room and may have heard me.
One of the women steps out of the house for a few minutes and now the other women start talking about her.
Apparently it is okay to say anything behind someone's back, but not to their face or in front of their relatives.
All talk is loud.
All jokes are facetious.
They think I ought to get married, and my age is still 23.
A circle of women is a nest of vipers. Tread carefully, or don't tread at all.
Cheers
Prashanth.
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