Definition of bachelor party

 

Where the mind is without fear and the head is held high

Where words come out from the depth of truth!

Winning by wickets versus winning by balls

To me, winning by wickets makes no sense in T20 cricket matches, Imagine, in 20 overs, Team A scores 180 runs for the loss of two wickets(say); in the same match, Team B makes 181 runs for the loss of 4 wickets(say). We would say Team B won by 6 wickets. Why? Team B lost more wickets than Team A while making the same number of runs. Then, why say won by 6 wickets?

Wickets as a measure of win do not come into play in T20 cricket, save for in DLS system.

Instead, I think, it should be: won by so many number of balls. So, if Team B gets more than 180 runs in 18 overs and 2 balls(say), the result should be: Team B won by 16 balls.

In case Team B makes 184 runs (say) at the end of the 20th over, then we can then say: Team B won by 4 runs. A similar result can be given when Team B scores 181, 182, 184, 185, or 186 runs at the end of the 20th over: wins by one run, wins by two runs, wins by three runs...and so on.

Another thing is about number of balls faced by a batter. Just as a bowler is allowed to bowl no more than 24 legitimate balls, a batter in T20 cricket should be allowed to face no more than 24 balls. This way there will be parity when bowlers are pitted against batters. Why should batters have an advantage of facing number of balls? 

Happy Infantry Day

 

Infantryman, your footprints

are the only road, nothing else.

Infantryman, there is no minefield;

you make your own path as you trudge.

As you trudge, you make your own road,

and when you look back

you see the path

you will never travel again.

Infantryman, there is no road;

Only the rustle of the bramble bushes.

Happy Infantry Day

(With apologies to Antonio Machado)

Counting up and counting down

 

Some folks are counting up,

Some folks are counting down.

Some are counting up 

All the stars in the sky,

And the Likes for their latest post.

Some are counting down

The days to the next Diwali,

Counting down

To the last person standing

Among their friends,

The one that would endure

The longest regime of pain.

Let the sun hide himself

 

All the stars are your Diyas,

Let the moon hide herself,

Let the sun hide himself,

He is your trenchmate,

He is your wingman,

He is your shipmate,

Happy Diwali, soldier,

Happy Diwali, air warrior,

Happy Diwali, sailor.

*Diyas: Earthen lamps

Be Indian, be happiness

 

Be Indian, be happiness.

Happy Dhanteras.

Checking the weather update

 

Just checking the weather up there before restarting the climb.

If the Universe halted

 

If the Universe halted:

Neither expanded,

Nor contracted,

If all galaxies, stars, and planets

Stayed put:

Neither rotated,

Nor circumnavigated,

What would Time be?

What would the stars foretell?

A case for English in the higher echelons of academics

 

First a disclaimer: This is a post for English and not against Hindi.

Very short, but, in my view, compelling points:

-While it may not take a very long to translate all technical/non-technical curricula into Hindi, the repository of technical and non-technical journals, research papers, and books in English in libraries and elsewhere in digital form is huge: almost 90%. If we change our undergrad technical and non-technical studies to Hindi, the undergrad students will lose that huge repository -a large part of which is free- forever. This will be a huge loss and will not be able to be made up. Ever.

-We are frittering away an advantage that we have. If we have to export professionals like doctors, nurses, engineers, software engineers, lawyers to other countries, the professionals going abroad, need to have done their undergrad studies in English. There is no gainsaying, that the countries wanting the professionals would want English as a link language in order that the foreign professionals enmesh seamlessly with their own body of knowledge.

-While it is fashionable to say that Koreans, Japanese, Chinese, and Russians do technical/non-technical studies in their own language, we must watch Korean, Japanese, Chinese, even Russian sitcoms/serials in Netflix and Primevideo to understand where these countries are going as far as foreign language adoption is concerned. Students in these countries are paying millions in yen, won, yuan, and ruble to get a grip of English. This expenditure for them is worthwhile because if world is the student's stage, then English is the is language of the dramatist.

-The folks pushing this new idea must have thought of this but I cannot reconcile as to how a doctor who has studied in Tamil medium would practice as part of Amrita Hospital in Faridabad. Conversely, how a doctor who did her MBBS in Bengali in RG Kar, Kolkata will do post grad in Vellore Christian College, where instruction would be in Tamil. Seemingly, all our professionals will have to work / do further studies only in their own states, or in states where their undergrad language would be the language of instruction/work.

Of course, for Indians, there are millions of points against English and trillions points for English, that English be the language of instruction in technical courses. But, for me, we are willfully denying ourselves accessibility to a body of knowledge out their in cyber space and elsewhere; to me, it is giving away a huge advantage to our competitors; to me, slowly but surely we will turn insular, while the world becomes global.

Wonder who trades their sleep

 

Urmila slept,

That Lakshman may stay awake.

Goddess Nidra equalises sleep:

One's sleep against

Another's wakefulness.

Wonder who sleeps

For all those folks

Who have sleepless nights.

Wonder who trades their sleep,

Their dreams.

The other universe

 

There must be a Universe,

Where there's blood in the eyes,

And tears run the veins,

Where folks donate blood,

When their heart is hurt,

And water the cactii,

That pricked their fingers.

And the last, with tears.

I hear rumble before I see lightning

 

I hear rumble before I see lightning,

My sense of hearing is keen.

My shelter is 'neath a lightning conductor,

I'm out when lightning loses sheen.

But years of verbal abuse has made me yearn,

That I may turn to coal and cinder,

See the spark before I hear the thunder,

Die at once, and so surrender.

The Universe Conspires

 

Yesterday, I somewhat understood what is meant by Coelho's When you want something, the whole universe conspires to make it happen.

I had gone to meet my classmate from school. We were classmates almost 50 years ago. He had come over to Bangalore from Pune to be part of Isha foundation's consecration ceremony of the Deity which is in now residing in its New Centre in Bangalore. It was just an old time sake visit. However, it turned out to be the Universe conspires experience. Not my experience though, as I will explain in a bit.

I had been wanting to visit the Isha Foundation near Coimbatore, India, for a long time. But it hasn't happened yet. Arun and Gopi, my classmates from school, took me to the New Isha Centre in the Nandi Hills. The Deity therein had been consecrated only the night before. The function was over and there were only few visitors. And, I was able to humbly receive the blessings and energy with gratitude; without the jostling and pushing of other devotees. It was truly a soul stirring experience.

The New Centre is cradled in a huge bowl hemmed in by hills. On one of the hillocks, which was almost barren, I noticed a tree atop the hillock. It had sprung up from the boulders on top of the hillock. It must have struggled a lot to breathe, as it made its way up the unforgiving boulders. But the Universe had conspired that it saw the light of the day; more importantly it was as if the Universe had conspired to give it a ringside view of the consecration ceremony of the Deity. It would now remain covered with effulgent energy from the residing Deity forever. 

Let it rain copiously

 Let it rain copiously,

It's the Heaven's way

To get in touch

With the Earth.

Only He knows

Where the earth is parched,

Of rain,

Of love.

How high is the sky?

 

How high is the sky?

Ask the air warriors.

Happy Air Force Day to all of IAF and their families.

A beautiful day rises

 

Like the incandescent smell

Of filter coffee,

In Shanti Sagar,

Like the effervescent smell

Of tea,

Wafting from the kitchen,

A beautiful day rises.

And, Thank God it's Friday!

Durga Ma

Durga Ma,

An eon passes,

Between the spaces

Of your coming.

Come sooner,

More often.

Raktabeej are falling everywhere.

 

Unfold your soul

Don't you know how to cry?

Not too hard, if you try.

Let the tears roll,

Unfold your heart,

Unfold your soul.