Summary of four months

         It's been hectic four months, not allowing me even to blog. Honestly, I am not being a prude here. I had to cover Commonwealth Games in Delhi, IPL auction besides a few Ranji Trophy matches involving Karnataka.

         The last four months gave me joy and disappointment in equal measures, and here I am mentioning only my professional life. While the opportunity to cover CWG opened my mind as a writer and widened my horizons, pardon me if I sound a bit cliched there, missing out on India's tour to South Africa in December was a massive disappointment. I was really keen on going to the Rainbow Nation, a place I never set my foot so far.

       But more than that, it was an opportunity to write a few good stories, do some interviews etc. Though it will remain a regret, I need to move on and forget the episode. Life is not known to give all that you want on a platter, isn't it?
     
       However, I was able to spent a week at home with parents and sister, making the beginning of 2011 a happy one. Now, there will be cricket World Cup and am marked to cover the Sri Lanka leg, though the final nod is yet to come. Hopefully, there will be some more positives for me as the year progresses, personally and professionally.

      So, waiting for some good things this year!

A week with parents

It surprised me pleasantly when dad and mom agreed to spent a week with us in Bangalore, a first in four years of my married life. 


All these days, they have to back out at the last moment after planning a trip to Bangalore, but this time it was not to be so. It was great to watch them enjoying different climate, food and the history of Karnataka, the home state of my wife. 


I am not venturing to give a day-to-day update of their visit since that could be very monotonous, rather I will dwell on the effect of them staying with us. Let me say that the whole week was an eye-opener, a mirror to what I have been missing in my life. 


You might earn in zillions, you might live in the poshest house, you might own a Ferrari, and you might have all the other tangible luxuries, but nothing can be compared to the affection of your parents. It is quite fascinating to get treated like a five-year old when I actually am a 35-year old. 


Even in her mid-sixties, my mother is still eager to cook a favourite dish of mine or offer me a four'o clock-snack, something I have forgotten over the years. Two years elder to my mom, father is still as much eager as he was nearly twenty years ago to give me a gift or offer me some money for my expense. 


Sometimes we all wish to get transported back to our childhood, and the last week probably I came closest to that. In my parents' eyes I might still be a young boy, perhaps I will be forever. 

A Trip With Super Star

    It was a few months ago on my trip back from Kochi that I had this totally unexpected but plesant opportunity to realise a dream. From the early 80s I have been a fan of Mohanlal, like scores of Keralites, and his easy-flowing method of acting, but I never had the chance to meet this wonderful talent.

   Lal's movies like Kireedom (Gardish in Hindi), Kilukkam, Rajavinte Makan, Irupatham Nootandu, Nadodikkattu, Pattana Pravesham, Thoovanathumbikal and Bharatham have been my all-time favourites. But again I was never able to meet him despite several tries through my friends, who are active in various branches of cinema.

   Once I came to know that Lal will be in Palakkad for shooting and the location was my friend's ancestral home! So, I thought time has come to meet Lal, only to know later that they had shifted the location to a different place due to some technical reason. Disappointment was massive.

   That was nearly 11 years ago, and finally I realised my ambition on a windy morning at the Bangalore International Airport. I could hardly believe my eyes when I saw a familiar face standing next to me in the airport shuttle bus, clad in blue jeans and a grey shirt. It was the man whom I was dreaming to meet for so long and it took me some gingerly minutes to go up to him and introduce myself.

   But the three-time National award for best actor winning Super Star was polite and cordial as we chatted some time on various issues including his interest in buying an IPL team. Ultimately, Lal was not a part of the consortium that bought the Kochi IPL team, but hopefully he will be part of the team in some capacity that I can have further meetings with him.

   A few days later I happened to meet another Malayalam/Tamil actor Jayaram at the airport. The Rasikar Thilakam too was a cordial customer, but somehow it failed to create the impact of the meeting that I had with Mohanlal. Simple but radiating the man's humility and creative talent.

VIVA BRAZIL

Even the name Brazil has a magic to it, something exotic and it is esoteric and universal at the same time. There will be numerous other teams and numerous other players in World Cup 2010 in South Africa, but once the 'Yellow Canneries' touch the field all will be forgotten.

Agreed, this Brazilian side is not in the mould of their predecessors of 60s, 70s or 80s when Pele, Garrincha, Rivelino, Zico, and Socretes enthralled the world with pure wizardry. Those days, perhaps, beauty mattered slightly more to a Brazilian than victory. Still, they are the most successful country in the World Cup, winning five World Cups.

Now, under Dunga, Brazil has welded the traditional Latin American style with the element of power, once a facemark of the European teams. Now, you might trace only in patches the flow, natural touch and dazzling skills acquired from the streets of Rio de Janeiro that made Brazil a worldwide favorite, but the joy of watching them has not diminished one bit.

So, what seperates Brazilians from rest of the teams from Latin America, Europe, Asia, and Africa?

Football field is an arena for self expression for each Brazilian player and for their fans an altar to worship their heroes and a magical imaginarium that relieves them from worldly hazards, leaving the rest of the world in amazement over the unique union of the game, players and fans. That's something typical to Brazil's football as any other nation can't claim such a complete relation between the three segments.

It's that belief in each other makes them a treat to watch and perennial favourites in the biggest single-event sporting show on earth. And what are their chances in this edition of the World Cup then?

Without underestimating the abilities of Robinho, they might be slightly over-reliant on Kaka to score and create opportunities and they might miss the creativity of Ronaldinho, omitted by coach Dunga after a poor season with AC Milan.

Their forward-line may not have the firepower to intimidate the opponents with Manchester City player Robinho being their best bet. Nilmar (Inter Milan), Luis Fabiano (Sevilla) and Alexandre Pato (AC Milan) are greenhorns at the top level.

Midfield will revolve around Kaka while Anderson (Manchester United) and  Gilberto Silva (Panathinaikos) could be his trusted allies. Defence has always been the Achilles heel of Brazilian teams of the past. "Every Brazilian wants to score goal, so we don't have great defenders," former midfielder Rivaldo once offered the reason behind that traditional weakness.

However, this time they have a classy defence in Alex (Chelsea), Maicon (Inter Milan) and Lucio (Bayern Munich) and if they can blunt the rival sallies effectively then Brazil will be a very formidable opposition.

But the romantics will not see those obvious flaws, their eyes and heart will be on Brazil holding aloft that Hexa Cup. After all, what better way is there to welcome World Cup 2014 at home than being the defending champions?

A trip to Polonica!

I was waiting at the 'Dreams', a men's saloon, for my turn to come but like mist moves over a valley nostalgia surrounded my mind, reminding me of my first trip to a men's beauty saloon.

It was a summer day of 1995, and quite accidentally I saw the advertisement of a newly-opened men's saloon, Polonica at MG Road (Kochi), in a fashion magazine. Till then I was only familiar with the world of good old 'barber shop' -- smelling of Cuticura/Ponds powder and Old Spice /Palmolive shaving cream, ancient Murphy radio belting some old movie songs and a Rally fan producing more sound than air.

So I decided, after some persusasion from my cousin Das, to visit Polonica and I stepped into a new world through the revolving door -- some English music wafting in the air through unseen speakers, adequately airconditioned and smelling of some expensive room freshner. All the barbers, sorry men's beauty therapists, were dressed in black trousers and cream shirts giving a touch of sophistication to their job.

Then there were umpteen bottles and equipments I failed to identify and while I standing like a party-dress clad teenager among suit-wearing executives, an elderly gentleman, surely in his mid 50s then, approached me and asked to take seat. He, Mr Raghuram as I came to know later, handed over me a menu card, service card in his language, featuring a mind-blogging list -- from simple hair-cut and shave to Chinese acu-pressure therapy.

The hair-cut and shave was the cheapest item on the card-- Rs 150, a considerable sum for a student nearly 15 years ago, and rather sheephishy I told the shop owner that I had only Rs 130 in my pocket at the moment and Das a total pauper. Mr Raghuram gave a bright smile and said, "Don't worry young man, you can have a hair-cut without a shave, though it's not on the menu, and I will charge only Rs 90." It was too tempting an offer to turn down. Rest of the money was enough for two of us for a movie and a masala dosa from Woodlands.

"Please come sir," the voice of my regular guy at Dreams broke the spell of nostalgia, but to this date I am indebted to Mr Raghuram for allowing me to experience a new-age hair-cut. Some of you might think what's-the-flaming-big-deal in a hair-cut, but it revealed to me the concept of metro-sexual man -- not apprehensive to visit a beauty parlour once viewed as the exclusive-right of women.

Customised Che

My phone flashed an unfamiliar New Delhi number on its screen, forcing me to rather loudly curse credit card and insurance companies. But the sound of my long-standing friend Cherian John Thottathil instantly wiped away my anger.
After exchanging a few plesantries (mostly the four-letter words), John asked me whether I would like to own a t-shirt spotting Che Guevara's face on it. Here let me confess my fascination for the revolutionist, his desire to see slavery, class differences and autocratic rule getting eradicated once and for all.
John also offered if I mail him Che's picture of my choice he would get it embossed on the t-shirt, sort of customised Che apparel. I guess many Che fans would have been happy to hear such an offer, but, so strangely, it made me a lot unhappy. The thought of the light of a generation becoming a marketing commodity saddened me to no end, leading to my polite refusal of that offer.
To think that, Che was totally against commercilisation only added to the irony of the whole episode, but I heard Che t-shirts are one of the most hot-selling items in garment industry these days.
While it might be taken as a symbol of new generation's awareness about Che and his ideas, is it absolutely necessary to tell the world through your clothes about your hero (not just Che)? Or follow your hero's words and walk your own path is more worthy?
Like the great German composer Beethoven told one of his disciples "the best tribute for your teacher is not copying him blindly, while that may be taken for respect, but shape your own path without sacrificing your teacher's visions."
The method can invite criticisms at times, but I believe it's the way forward.

KJ Yesudas

It's been a while I blogged courtesy my hectic tours related to work and some personal health problems. That I could not touch upon a suitable topic too contributed to my inactivity in the blog-sphere.

Then recently I stumbled on this piece of news in a film website on January 10 -- KJ Yesudas turns 70. It was really a moment of realization because till then how many of us thought about KJY's age?

It is tough to think about his age since I listen to his songs from various eras (60s, 70s, 80s and 90s) almost every day, like a ritual. It's an experience to be experienced; words can hardly convey the beauty of his music, the calmness that seeps into your soul after listening to a KJY rendition.

It hardly matters whether he sings light music or Carnatic music, for he is proficient in both forms and he was able to entertain both laymen and pundits. There have been some criticisms about the way he sings Carnatic forms that he resorts to gimmicks with voice. I just want to tell them 'please avoid the vyavahara-laden mindset and absorb his music and you will only be richer by it.' As the great Chembai Vaidyanatha Bhagavathar, KJY's guru, said once, "I don't understand this rigidity over Vyavahara as I know only one vyavahara and that is related to court. Music is divine and it should come from heart and soul."

Yes, KJY's music pours from his soul, if not so, it could not have touched the souls of million others transcending linguistic barriers. The days when KJY sang 16 songs might have gone behind him, but that does not reduce the magic of his craft.

It may be also because the lack of some good quality lyrics and music in modern days. The trio of Vayalar Rama Varma - G Devarajan-KJ Yesudas is still the best in Malayalam film industry, and I don't need to retell the poetical and musical quality of those songs. Pure bliss those songs are.

It is not for nothing he's been called Gana Gandharvan, and he does not need any more titles

to reveal his status as a musician, once rated by AR Rahman as the owner of the sweetest voice in

the world.

I just wish the mastero long and successful years ahead.

HOT HYDERABAD

I am right now in Hyderabad, sizzling as usual, for the Champions League and it has been a good experience so far. I have met a few players for interviews and will have to stay here till October 24th.

As it happens on any tour, the last few days in the Pearl City have thrown up some very interesting moments. Here goes a few.

Brand conscious

I wanted to buy a packet of Marlboro, but the shop guy right in front of my hotel looked very apprehensive and told only Wills brands are available. Within a few minutes a gentleman standing next to the shop left in his bike, the scene changed immediately.

"Sir, which brand you want...Marlboro, 555, Dunhill or B&H," he asked me enthusiastically. Stunned by the sudden attitude change, I asked reasons for it. "Sir, that man standing next to you was from Wills company and I was not supposed to sell any other brand than it. Now that he is not there I can give you the brand of your choice," he said.

So much for brand loyalty!

Not so Sundara Telegu!!!

Krishna Residency is a nice hotel to stay. Wifi enabled, good food and comfortable rooms. Just one problem, the staff, except the front room guys, do not know any other language than Telegu.

While Telegu is a beautiful language, especially those Karnatic compositions by Saint Thyagaraja, here it has presented me with a lot of hazards. Once I ordered a neembu soda (fresh lime soda), and got neembu and soda separately.

On other occasion I ordered dinner from my room (509) and told the room service guys to deliver it to 202 (my friend's Amol's room), but bill it to my room. I never got the dinner even after an hour and when checked with the room service people, they told me the boy was waiting in front of 509 for 15 minutes for me to open the door!!! Hows that for customer service!

KPL, REPORTING

For the last fortnight I have been busy with covering Karnataka Premier League, and it was quite experience.

I had this apprehension of the event being a no-seller, especially in Bangalore. But, to my greatest surprise, public has turned out in good numbers to watch the local lads sweating it out and Mysoreans have received the tournament with open hands.

Covering the tournament also led my mind to the need for a change in attitude to cover cricket. It is mandatory for an event like KPL, a strictly local affair, and even for domestic tournaments to file a conventional match reports with the reporter focusing just on the happening on the field. He may also dedicate time to compile scoreboards because cards may not be available in websites.

That people may not be able to watch these matches on TV makes it the duty of a reporter to give a detailed account of the on-field happenings.

Do we need to approach international matches the same way? I guess not. This is the age when things move forward in nanoseconds, and then why should reporters go back to the age of steam?

Now every international match has been flashed live on TV with millions watching along with detailed analysis by experts like Ravi Shastri, Ian Chappell etc. So what else a reporter can give new to his reader in his match report apart from the already watched and heard? Is a reporter's time is not precious enough that he can waste it compiling a board, a clerical job. Nowadays, boards of any international match are readily available in web pages like Cricinfo that guys working in desk can compile it, easing the burden on the guy on the field.

A reporter can also use that extra time in searching for some interesting stories. Why can't be we challenge our ability to think beyond the obvious?

To bring that change our respective offices should change their attitude, approaching the game with open mindedness while accepting the inevitable flow of time. Hope it happens.

WATCHING MASTERS AT WORK

There were no hurried movements or panic-stricken escape moves but calculated motions only experts in the job can hope for. The second day of the preparatory camp for Indian cricketers offered reasons why Sachin Tendulkar and Rahul Dravid are considered masters of their trade, and the alarming gulf between them and the younger generation.

Dravid, first to enter the nets, faced short-pitched balls from bowlers, mainly coach Gary Kirsten, and bowling machine. Never for once the Bangalorean looked ill at ease save one mis-timed pull. Dropping his hands and moving away from the line of danger or tapping the ball to leg-side from back-foot or taking that handsome pull out of the draw, Dravid was in his elements during his 30 minutes stint at the nets.

Tendulkar offered an equally breathtaking sight even in a subdued mood. The Mumbaikar resembled a boxer -- no exaggerated movements, but just enough motions to avoid the oncoming blobs. It was a superb exhibition of technique, composure and willingness to work on to attain perfection.

Even Kirsten could not suppress his delight seeing the two modern day greats dishing out a masterclass in facing short-balls, coming up with occasional shouts of 'yeaahs' and 'good one'.

The nets showed why Tendulkar and Dravid survived so long at the highest level of cricket, conquering many a milestones on the way. Having talent is one thing, but converting God-given abilities into memorable performances needs much more than mere talent. The senior pros' longish outing on a nippy Thursday at the KSCA 'B' grounds proved you need loads of concentration and a mindset to tame the unpleasant to consistently succeed in sports.

Hopefully Suresh Raina, younger to the stalwarts by a good 14 years, will pick up some cues from his senior colleagues display. The Uttar Pradesh batsman's effort against rising balls on the day was a blow to the eye.

The left-hander, once described by former coach Greg Chappell as a progeny of West Indian great Brian Lara, showed his discomfort against balls that whistle past his chest. More than once he was caught in no-man's land while trying to pull, reducing his attempted-stroke into a tame fend. Uncertain footwork and an even more uncertain mind made Raina look like a deer caught in front of headlight against short stuff.

That the Champions Trophy will be held at the pacy, bouncy pitches of South Africa makes it mandatory for Raina to work his way out against short-pitched balls. It is not just a matter of saving his own reputation, but also vindicating the faith the team management has placed on him. Can Raina deliver? Lets hope so!!

THOUGHTS AT 35

So I have turned 35 three days ago. It's a really funny age, if not a little perplexing. You still have one foot on the shores of youthfullness while the need to check the speed of life gradually tickles your brain.

This is not to paint myself as a mature, grey-haired, slightly balding middle-aged man, struggling to cope with the new needs of life. But an effort from my part to look back at my personal and professional life wearing the glass of impartiality.

First let's take a peep at my personal life. All the while it has been a mix of good and bad, though I would like to put more weight on the former. I have been hugely privileged to acquire some wonderful friends along the way -- from my school and college days, during my stay in the hostel in New Delhi, yes they have come from all walks of life.

But my biggest gain has been finding a suitable life partner. I met her in the New Indian Express office in Bangalore, but it was not love at first sight. It blossomed between us some two years after our initial meeting, and I am really happy that I made the right choice. I believe having the right Ms Right has a huge role in the success of your personal and professional life.

I also have been remarkably lucky to have two of the most loving parents and really affectionate siblings, who have contributed immensly to my succes in all my ventures.

Now to my professional life. It has been a rather topsy-turvy trip as journalist over the last 12 years. The years have presented me the fortune of interacting with some nice guys, some wonderful colleagues and, of course, some cheapos as well.

As I said in one of my earlier blogs, I may not be clinging onto the broadsheet for long now as I can feel the need to do something different, face a different sort of challenge, surge in me. Hopefully, things should go as I hope in the next few months.

I have always felt my style of writing is more suited to interviews, features, news features and human element in sports. At times a broadsheet may not be the best place to do it, and may be it is a little too late for me to become straight-jacket writer. Here I should remember a name, without forgetting others who helped me along the way, for telling the importance of approaching my craft in a different way to keep myself fresh as a writer.

Ajay Shankar, my former colleague in NIE, Bangalore and now with a reputed website, has been a positive influence, pointing out the need to view sports, particularly cricket, through an unconventional eye and treating it like a new episode of a drama every day. Well, it is a hard to sell theory on a place, torned by the irresistable clash between new and old, like mine. Admittedly, I could not practice it all the time, keeping in mind the 'style' of my workplace, but the view has definitely broaden my horizons.

It is impossible to dwell upon all aspects in such a short article, but I have tried to give a peripheral and honest view of my professional and personal life. Catch up with you guys soon!

THOUGHTS FROM A SEDATE FORTNIGHT

I have been thinking about changing the look of this blog for a while now. I have taken the first few steps on Tuesday (28-7-2009) by adding one of photos and opting for a new layout. But still a few more things have to be done which I hope to do in the coming weeks.

It has been a rather sedate two weeks as my life travelled through the familiar routes between home and office. The only point of interest has been an offer from my friend -- Greg Landsdowne -- to write in his magazine 'Big Hitter' and hopefully things will fall in place in the coming days.

Writing for a magazine has always fascinated me because it allows you that extra bit of time to work on the stories, something you cannot expect in a daily. The quality of your story, I believe, is bound to increase and of course you can also write about 1500 words, helping to incorporate more ideas.

The biggest challenge of a magazine writer is to think of a fresh angle as you will often be dealing with a subject that has already been written a lot in various newspapers.

I agree that magazine writers may miss the thrill of day-to-day reporting, especially something big happens, or the buzz of bringing out the edition on a special occasion.

Despite all that, I still fancy shifting to a magazine at some point of time in future. By no means I am a perfectionist, but I have been a constant explorer to find ways to improve as a writer and trying to walk away from the trodden path. I might have experienced a few fumblings on the way, but I hope to learn and emerge stronger from those falls.

Hopefully, I can give a new impetus to the process during the next week when I will don my thinking hat to find a story for my friend.

A VALUABLE LESSON

Perhaps, it is not always necessary to interact with great persons to learn lessons. Their mere presence can instill a fresh perspective in you. I had such an experience many years ago, though the frustration of missing an opportunity to meet a well-known philanthropist and spiritual leader still lingers in my mind.

I don't remember the year or day, but it was some 15 years ago that I briefly met, the only time in my life, this pious man with a saintly face and a touching, expressive laugh --Sri Sri Ravishankar.


I would not have remembered that chancy, but highly remarkable, meeting if I would not have gone through one my colleague's blog that was written on the occasion of Guru Poornima.

A staunch devotee of Lord Guruvayoorappan, I grabbed the chance to perform a concert (Carnatic vocal) in the Guruvayooor temple with an elated heart. Never mind it was my 9th concert in front of my favourite deity.


I got a timing of 1 hr 30 minutes to sing from 6 pm, and it was the temple's rush hour. There was nearly 1500 attendees in the mantap (hall) and, by God's grace, I was able to catch their attention. But towards the end of my programme there was a commotion near the left entrance of the stage, and I saw a man clad in white entering the hall and listening the last 7-10 minutes of my rendetion -- the penultimate number was Aparadhamula Norva (Raga-Rasali) and then the customary mangalam Pavamana in raga Sourashtram.

On my way out one of the organisers led me to the person, and he said, "Good, fluent voice. Let the God bless you to keep it alright." My reply was limited to a rather quick and polite "Thanks" before hurrying towards my friends and relatives.

Though it was a very brief meeting, the image of the person was not faded from my mind, and later my cousin, Ramanathan, told who he was. I cursed myself for missing a golden chance to meet a much-reverred individual in detail.

It taught me a fine lesson -- never squander the chance to meet a great personality for you might not a get a second chance.

WATCHING THE MASTER, AND HOW!!

Friday, July 6, 2007. It will always remain a special day in my life. I watched the greatest tennis player in the history, Roger Federer, on that slightly hot London afternoon at the Wimbledon Centre Court . But I also met a man with a golden heart.
The Swiss maestro was playing against Spain's Juan Carlos Ferrero in the quarterfinals, but I could not have watched that match without the help of a magnanimous, London policeman.
I was standing outside the gates of Wimbledon waiting for a colleague to get my temporary pass that allows entry into the press box, shopping area and the cafes. After a considerable wait, I decided to take some rest and sat on the pavement. Then I saw an elderly cop approaching me, and the first thought crossed my mind was I did something wrong sitting on the sidewalk. But the 45-something gentleman suddenly pushed something into my hand and said, "Young man go and watch the match. Tough to get tickets these days." He walked off without even giving me a chance to offer my gratitiude.
Still it did not struck me that I had a ticket to watch the matches at the Centre Court. I could not believe it once I realised what I had in my sweaty palms, and without wasting much time I rushed to the Centre Court to catch some action. The policeman could have sold that ticket worth GBP 60 to someone for an amount of his wish. But he chose to give it to me, the bells of St Paul's Cathedral might have rang then.
Back to action. Federer and Ferrero was warming up when I took the seat, and the next few hours I saw the master in two different zones.
In the first phase, Federer was struggling with his shots, and the precision of his opponent. He won the first set 7-6, but lost the second.
The third and fourth sets saw the re-emergence of Federer, the El Magnifico. The Swiss was all fluid grace -- serving smooth and big, unfurling some silky but powerful groundstrokes. It was like watching a Rolls Royce Phantom in full throttle -- all power and elegance with minimum fuss. It was an unforgettable sight, a pure genius in action and such moments make your life as a sports journalist worth the toil. Thank you Roger for a wonderful show.
But it would not have happened for that kind-hearted, but still unknown cop. Thank you sir!

KERALA FLAVOUR

It was during one of those busy match days during the World T20 that my friend Harish Kotian announced to me the news of finding a Kerala restuarant in Nottingham. In fact, it did not surprise me at all since you may find a Malayali food court even in the remotest area of Alaska.
On my return visit to Nottingham, I decided to check the restuarant and it was a short walk from the City Centre. The name itself had a Malayali touch to it, Kayal (it means backwater), and the ambience transported me back to my home state for a moment .
The staff were very courteous and it came as no surprise as many of them were working in Taj Group. My tour-mates Harish, Moses and Neeru immediately liked the atmosphere and what followed was even better.
The food was excellent with real Kerala flavour. It was heartening to see that, for once, a restuarant has not changed the way of cooking to suit the English taste buds. Many Indian eat outs do that mistake, they alter the way of cooking and items are a shame to Indian cuisine. Just for an example, Chicken Tikka Masala is a hot menu in India. But in UK you will get a bland curry mixed with tomato sause and a variety of spices, and what more it is accepted as the national food of British.
So normally, I stick to Mexican, Italian or Greek restuarants where you will get authentic dishes of the respective countries. After all how much change you can bring to Salsa Magic, Pasta or Papas Cronos!!
But Kayal changed my prejudiced opinion about Indian food courts in UK. It made me convinced that you can prepare some really spicy food and still attract a lot of locals. Well done guys!
Their masterpiece is vegetarian/non-vegetarian thali in which your tongue will experience a good number of items in those categories, and all of them carry the aroma of Kerala to some 7000 kms away.
Try it out if you happened to be in Nottingham. You'll love it.
Here goes a sample: Veg thali: Rice, Sambar, Rasam, Upperi (Palya/Puriyal), Avial (assortment of vegetables), green-piece curry (not exactly a Kerala dish), mango pickle, papadam (applam), Mor curry (Mor Kuzhambu), Erisseri (a dish made of raw banana) = GBP 6.50.
Non-Veg thali: Rice, Upperi (Palya/Puriyal), mango pickle, papadam (applam), Kozhi Porichathu (Chicken fry), Kozhi curry (chicken curry), Erachi Ulathiyathu (Scrambled mutton), Meen pollichathu (Boiled fish), and Mutta thoran (Scrambled egg) = GBP 7.50.

MOMENTS OF THE TOUR

Funny moments are part of any cricket tour. They come anytime, anywhere, but the rib-ticklers were at a premium during the just-concluded World T20 tour to England. Perhaps, it also has to do with India's poor outing in the event that cast an all-round ennui among the Indian contingent.

However, here are some of the nuggets that brought a smile and much more on many faces.

1 The unity show

You might need a little background for this one. It was the first press conference of Indians after the report of rift between MS Dhoni and Virender Sehwag appeared in a newspaper. We were waiting in the Squash Courts at Trent Bridge for Dhoni to address the media ahead of the first league match against Bangladesh for the customary pre-match press-do, enjoying the drizzle and a cup of Twinings.

We saw the entire Indian team trooping into the cafeteria just behind the PC hall, but still there were no hints of the bomb that was going to explode minutes later. Suddenly, the team members, support and administration staff entered the PC hall led by Dhoni sparking the rumours of an open media session.

"Come on, we cannot manage so many players. 4-5 of them are enough," one of my colleagues told V Chamundeswarnath, the team manager, who smiled wistfully in return. "Oh my God, I have not taken my voice recorder. Have you taken? Who will transcribe all these? How will we share the work?," another colleague panicked.

But it all lasted just 5 minutes as an entirely different episode panned out soon that wiped out the smiles and enthusiasm, and it's too cumbersome to narrate again.

It was my first official day of the tour. I wondered silently, "Will it get any better than this?" Well, it never did.

2 Yuvi-Mahi show

This came immediately after the Unity Show. During a pracitce session couple of journalists including this blogger were engaged in a light conversation with Yuvraj Singh. The left-hander was in good mood while discussing various matters with us, and the session was progressing quite nicely along.

MS Dhoni, who came to the pavilion area for a short break, shouted on his way back to the nets "Don't tell too many things. They will write there is rift between you and me." There were laughter all around, though the chit-chat came to an end, but only temporarily.

At the end of the nets, Yuvi playfully punched Suresh Raina on the shoulders and then yelled at the scribes and TV journos "We are fighting.. we're fighting." Once again peels of laughter echoed at Lady's Bay.

3 Gayle storms in

There were not much to cheer for the men in blue in the World T20. But 15 minutes they spent with West Indian skipper Chris Gayle were certainly full of cheer. During a training session at Lady's Bay, Ishant Sharma, Gayle's team-mate in Kolkata Knight Riders, dragged the Jamaican to Indian camp, and moments of fun followed. Pathan brothers, Raina, Dhoni, Yuvraj, Pragyan Ojha and Harbhajan Singh were seen speaking to Gayle and sharing a lot of laughter -- a rare commodity in the Indian camp on this tour.

Later I asked Gayle what they were talking and he replied, "Man, this Gayle brings a lot of happiness." Nobody could have doubted that!

4. The Simmons effect

Ireland's entry into Super Eight prompted this story idea in me -- interview their coach Phil Simmons. So, I approached my old friend Barry Chambers (media manager of Ireland), the good Irishman was happy to see me and even happier to oblige my request. Here a slight deviation, we went out that night to a pub, and the Irishman was the winner by a mile.

Back to Simmons. I gave ring to him at 930 am, and the first thing I heard was a roar "I am sleeping maaaaan," before the phone got disconnected. I tried him again in the afternoon, but without any luck. The big West Indian called me back when I was in the stadium and I could hardly understand what he was telling amidst the din. But I assumed that he was telling me to meet him at 3 pm at Crowne Plaza the next day.

I arrived at Plaza at 230 pm, and after several rounds of security checks I was ushered to the receptionist. She said the Ireland team had already left the hotel for London, and of course Mr Simmons was asking for a visitor who was supposed to meet him at 1.30 pm at lobby.

I walked into a hotel for my lunch with that old line ringining in my heart -- assumption is the mother of all goof-ups. Though the wordings were slightly different!

5. Flight trouble

The in-flight entertainment system on long trips is a bliss since you don't have to sit and wonder what to do next after sleeping 4-5 hours. But one of the journalists found out it as in-flight no-entertainment system. Mr Gentleman Journalist (he is truly a gent) was very happy after getting a seat upfront that offered a lot of leg space.

But the trouble started soon as he was unable to locate the personal TV screen even after finding the meal-tray. He had to spent the next 9 hrs gawking at the flight's route-map being displayed at the common screen. We were in fits of helpless giggles all the way when he was narrating this experience. When we were able to stop our laughter, one of the fellow travellers asked "why didn't you asked the passengers sitting next you." Alas! There was only one passenger in the row -- Mr GJ.

Alvida London

During the last few weeks I was unable to post on a regular basis due to the hectic nature of the World T20. Before leaving to London I promised to myself of posting on this blog once in 2-3 days (there too some indecision right!!!). But that promise never turned a reality.

Some time to explore London and a trip to Kent were the two good things happened on this tour. In 2007, I was rather new to this city and could not go out much apart from pubs. You don't need experience to hop pubs, just need the commonsense to follow the revellers!

Kent is a beautiful county, lush green lands and peaceful surroundings make it must-visit for any UK traveller. I strongly advise anybody visiting UK to include Kent in their travel plan. You will definitely enjoy the place, else you can ask me to refund the money of Kent trip.

Thanks Aleena for the invitation.

London.. it has to be my favourite place on Planet Earth. It's an amalgam of modern and ancient. The city can at once make you wonder about the progress science has made (take a look at London Eye, the tube system) and dip you into that feathery feeling of nostalgia (visit RAF musuem, Royal Albert Hall, Big Ben etc).

London is a also a city of contrast. The Central London area is so busy with people walking as if the world is coming to an end. Walk into Hyde Park and you will see a striking difference. You can people clicking pictures, sitting on a bench just staring at the river, sleeping in the shadows of bushes as if they have a remote control to regulate time.

I just love London and waiting to comeback here. Till then goodbye!

MALIBU DAYS

Helo Guys!! It has been a while since I posted something on the blog, courtesy the hectic nature of ICC World Twenty20 Championship. Well, here I am again from England and since my last post, a short one at that, from Nottingham I have moved back to London. I will reveal a fantastic discovery towards the end of the post. Good things comes a bit late, right?

The weather here is warmer than Nottingham and you don't exactly need to wrap yourself in three layers of clothing. You just a need a jacket to keep you warm as the temperature shifts between 15-18. Well, that will be considered as winter in India, but here it is summer!! I can't imagine then how an English winter will feel.

One of the most hilarious thing I have seen here is the urgecny of natives to apply sun screen at the first instance they are able to see the sun, though it's a rare sighting. Coming to the working part, it has been pretty hecitc over the last fortnight with matches lined up day after day. There are days when I have to cover two matches a day in the span of an hour. Since India are 4 hr 30 mins ahead of UK, I have to keep the clock ticking in my brain in IST while I am filing the copies.

The hecticness of the tour has, very very unfortunately, curtailed my pub-hoppings something I had enjoyed two years ago. But to be able to catch up with some cousins and old pals made this trip a worthy one. Guys, yesterday was a really bad one for me as West Indies defeated us with ease. What an innings from Dwayne Bravo!!! A real blinder!!

Hopefully, we can beat England and stay in contention for a semifinal berth. But I sincerely believe that we don't have the strength to beat South Africa in the decider (in case we beat England) at Trent Bridge on June 16 as the Proteas are playing some oustanding cricket of late. I hope to be proved wrong, though!

Itz getting late folks, of course for a drink. Here goes the secret I promised earlier. Yes guys, I have discovered the taste of Malibu White Caribbean rum here. Sensational taste and it goes well with cranberry juice and a dash of lemon. You can hear the rap straight from Jamaica!

In fact, me and my friend Moses K had almost zeroed in on Cocabana (a parady of Malibu), but we changed our mind last minute and what a moment it was!! Now we have renamed England as Malibu land.

See ya soon Geyser!

The natives wil

IN ROBIN HOOD COUNTY

Hello guys, finally I am here in the blustery, windy Nottinghamshire waiting for India to take on Bangladesh in their first match at Trent Bridge. The last three days in UK has been quite pleasant and at times adventurous.

I touched base in Heathrow on Wednesday evening after nearly 10-hr flight from Bangalore in a Kingfisher flight, and my wearly limbs instructed me to have a rest in London than dashing to Nottingham on the same day. Listening to my body's appeal, I decided to join my pals Nitin Naik (TOI) and Deba (Mumbai Mirror) at Barryhouse in Hyde Park before embarking on a 2hr15 mins train trip to the Robin Hood county.

The train journey was an exceptionally pleasant one since it revealed the beauty of English country side without the irritating presence of a guide or the hecticness of a package tour.

The first thing to strike you about this town is the weather -- cold, cloudy and windy -- a sharp contrast from London's balmy weather. I have got another five days to spent here, and I hope to sneak in some time to visit some of the places I had missed in 2007.

Holiday Inn, where I am staying, is in the City Centre which is the pulse of this place, and the hotel is surrounded by casinos, restaurants, bistros, business centres, night clubs and shops of various nature. It is quite interesting to see this part of town gradually shedding the cloak of silence and turns into an active place after 8.00 pm local time.

Here goes one curious piece of information as my cab driver, the ever-chuckling Yorkshire-man Atkinson, divulged during our short trip to Trent Bridge Cricket Ground. There is a police case against Robin Hood in the local police station, of course an effort to give further boost to the tales of 'Savior of the Poor.'
Will mee you soon with some more tales from Nottingham. Khuda Hafiz till then!!!