My pact with God

As a child, like all children, I was a fervent believer in God; used to pray with folded hands, worship the idols in temples, join in chorus to the pooja along with the family during festivals, and have the holy powders of Kumkum and Vibuthi on the forehead invariably every day (though mostly because it was mandatory in school to have Tilak).

Then as the years passed, and I slipped into adolescence, I was slightly wavering from being the faithful to the sceptic, starting to disbelieve in God and gradually even without even I recognising, I no longer believed in Him. I was on the verge of being an atheist.
Then more recently, about 5 or 6 years ago, I started to want to believe in God. But it was out of my own compulsion that used to visit temples with the hope that somehow my faith in Providence would be revived. But I knew I was doing all this just for the sake of it, without any real conviction about the existence of God.

Then, as recently as 2 years ago, a month before I joined this wonderful organisation, came along the happening which made me really realise the presence of God with uttermost conviction, and feel His ubiquitous presence. Since then I have again been like the pious kid I was, who prayed to God with fervour and devotion. And I can strongly enter an argument about the existence of God with utmost conviction and not an iota of doubt whatsoever.

Not so coincidentally, the incident I am speaking about is connected with my campus placements, or the lack of it. It is therefore inevitable to narrate the ordeal of my campus interviews before getting to the crux of 'The Pact'.

Midway in the third year of college, came the coveted Campus Placements. It is the one thing which is spoken about by parents, teachers, counsellors, peers the day you finish school until you land up getting a job in one. It was the panacea to all the travails encountered in college. I too was so excited about the prospect of having a job in hand even before graduating.

The first company to grace our college campus was one of the top three IT companies in India (it starts with an 'I'. I don't use the names of companies as we aren't supposed to be discussing a great deal about our employers' competitors). I couldn't even get past the first round. Though a meagre 21 were selected for the second round from a 400 odd crowd, I knew I should have done better.  The test had two parts - aptitude and English. The latter part was easy and I almost got all of them correct as it had questions mostly on elementary grammar. Our school's English test would have been tougher. (I owe whatever little command of the English language I have to the strong foundations laid by our wonderful school and of course, the high standards of CBSE English). But I screwed up the aptitude part, for the want of time. Thus ended my first failed shot at the to-be elusive campus placements. But I didn't have any hard feelings about not making the cut, for, there loomed the prospect of far too many companies wanting to reach our college campus.

Then, after a month or so, came the most heartbreaking trial of all. The second company (name starts with a 'V' and ends with an 'A') was quite generous in picking about more than a 100 for the second round. If I didn't get through it, probably, I never would have in any other. But I was fairly good at aptitude; in fact, I was among the top 5 or 6 in the innumerable mock tests conducted by our placement cell. I am not being any bit pompous here, but just pointing out one of the rare things I was pretty decent at. Having said that, I had the reputation, like the Indian cricket team, of doing exceedingly well in the practice tests and flopping when it really mattered, on the big stage.

Coming back to the second round, the Technical interview, I was quite fortunate to be greeted by a cheerful and amicable HR. He asked a few basic questions and threw back a 'good' for every answer I gave. And even when I said I didn't know a particular answer, he replied with a 'very good'. Tacitly I knew I had made it to the last round. Later I was told it was his first outing as an interviewer. So that was the reason I made it through.

In the final round, the general interview, the HR person was equally charming and the interview had an air of casualness and informality about it, to my pleasant surprise, quite contrary to the stereotypical peevish HR as portrayed by our placement cell in the mock interviews. So the interview went on quite well - we even discussed about my favourite cricketer - and I thought, though I had stumbled at a point or two, that I had done a decent job.

It was so late in the night that the interview process got over. Finally, after painful hours of waiting, the results were to be announced at the stroke of midnight. As we gathered to the cauldron where the results were to be declared, the power was out for a good ten minutes, adding to the anxiety of the already petrified souls. The power supply eventually resumed after what seemed like an eternity, and with it came the results. As the names were being read out, till the last name I had the hope of hearing my name. But it never came. A handful of us had been rejected; almost all of whom were on the verge of breaking into tears. As the usual clichés were being read out by the HRs, ("It was difficult to leave out a few because all of you have done brilliantly well. But we are left with no option", blah, blah, blah) there I was, staring into oblivion, recalling the interview and wondering what possibly went wrong, but not a tear welling up in my eyes, for I was optimistic of landing a job in one of the even better companies that were to follow, or at least so we were promised.

But little did I know that this was going to be effectively the last company to reach our college shores. Though there were those off campuses, which were more like a picnic given that thousands competed for jobs single digit in number, only a miracle was needed to crack those. The Campus placements in our college were virtually over.

Subsequently, I had graduated out of college, unemployed; without having experienced that wonderful feeling of getting a job before graduating.

Graduating jobless, I remained likewise for over a year. Though I had reluctantly attended the odd interview or two seeing the ads in the newspapers, they were largely fruitless, for either we had to pay for the training or there was a bond to be signed or it wasn't an IT company at all.

So, after unemployment of over a  year, came the next big interview.

It was another MNC, which was conducting its off campus interviews. This was also a very popular Indian company (which shares its name with the chemical formula of an ubiquitous acid). This was not similar to the off campus interviews I was describing earlier. These were directly conducted by the companies to pick the leftovers like me from colleges not so popular for them to visit. So they would obviously pick a reasonably high number of candidates. As usual, being fairly good at aptitude, I got past the first round with a good rank. Then I was called for the interview process on the first day due to the decent rank I got in the aptitude test.

The second round was the Group Discussion. My worst fear about a GD is that I may not get a chance to speak at all because of those domineering, garrulous big mouths, who babble and babble without making a smidgen of sense. I really loathe these supercilious creatures; some who start talking even before the topic is announced. Fortunately, the panel allowed each one of us to voice our opinions, and I made mine crystal clear, in my own laconic way.

Thus once more I was one step away from the elusive job, having got through to the final round, the Technical cum General interview. I was hoping to encounter an affable HR, but things went exactly the opposite. A hot-headed, grumpy HR almost put me off at the very sight. In fact there were two of them. Double trouble, I was in for. Like Dhoni's excuse for the England test series debacle, what all could possibly go wrong went wrong. I hadn't even read about the company on Wikipedia, and to my bad luck they asked me what I knew about the company. I couldn't say anything more than that it was one of the top Indian companies. When asked why I hadn't read about it, I told them the truth that I didn't think the interview would be conducted on the same day and so I hadn't read. I just don't understand why they ask this question to a campus recruit. What, am I going to buy the company, or at least am I being interviewed for the post of CEO or what. It is of course one of the clichéd questions used by the less creative interviewers. I left the interview hall with mixed feelings, knowing I had a decent chance as everyone said the chances of rejection in the HR round were minimal. Ask me!

My worst fears were confirmed a week later, when the results were intimated through email and sms. In the week running up to that day, my mother and I used to gun for my cell phone at the beep of an sms and I used to check my email almost every hour. But I never got any. The company mailed and sms 'ed only the selected candidates. The organisation didn't even have the courtesy to intimate the not so fortunate ones of their rejection, they were bothered only about their future employees. I came to know of it through a friend of mine, whom I would describe later in course of this post, who had got the coveted mail and the sms. One more time, so near, yet so far. And my tear glands finally gave way. Not because I didn't get the job, but because my mother, instead of scolding me like she used to do on previous occasions, just gave me a consoling pat on the shoulder, saying that maybe better companies were waiting for us and that was why I haven't got selected, and that I would definitely get into one soon. You know, it doesn't hurt when your parents scold us, but it really does when they affectionately sympathise with us; and have faith in us about a thing we aren't able to fulfil.

I was shattered not because I couldn't get employed, but because I couldn't fulfil my parents' only wish out of me. It is the only thing they ever expect of us, and they are the ones who are most proud when their sons and daughters get jobs. All the things they do and have been doing for years, is centred around us, but I couldn't give them back this one source of happiness. This guilty conscience of mine was haunting me more than anything.

The next few days, if not the several months before that, were the most testing days in my life. I was down in the dumps, and hopeless, to say the least. A schoolmate and a very good friend of mine, with whom I was pretty close in high school, but not so much in touch after school, being the asocial creature that I am, happened to know of my ordeal while chatting online. Knowing me too well, he said I deserved more and that I would definitely get through next time. That sort of restored my confidence, if at all I had any, by a bit.

For in a couple of weeks, was coming probably the last chance. Cognizant Technology Solutions were conducting their off campus interviews. I had registered in their (to be our) website and was called a couple of weeks later for the written test, in the order of the aggregate marks obtained in BE.

Then came the pact this title talks of. I didn't pray to God to present me with a job, but I begged of Him, "If I am not to get the job, please reject me in the first round itself. I could no longer take the agony  of going all the way to the last round only to be shown the door".

So two weeks later, I took the fairly easy aptitude test and had done pretty well. The results were to be announced via email that night. And the interview was to be held the next day at the Mepz office. Though I was fairly confident of making it to the next round, I didn't quite feel like preparing for the possible technical interview the next day. The philosopher in me took shape, realising that Luck is the one thing needed to get through the campus interviews (of course you need to know a bit of stuff, but luck is the deciding factor). After all, I had become a seasoned campaigner having gained loads of experience in the innumerable interviews that I had attended. Then at around 8 pm, even when positive result did come, I didn't bother to pore through those technical books as I couldn't quite focus on reading.

Having cleared the first round, and remembering 'The Pact', I had a bit of confidence going that my ordeal was finally going to come to an end. I was beginning to see the light at the end of the tunnel.

I could barely sleep that night but with whatever little shuteye I could muster, got up the next day and went (or came) to CTS Mepz along with a school mate who stays near my home. While I had left it all to fate without cramming on those technical stuff at the last minute, there he was, asking me if I had read about Swing, Servlet, and  blah, blah blah. I was fuming on the inside. I hadn't even seen these terms in a book, and my area of interest was Java. All this, despite he already being employed in an MNC software company and having an offer letter of another (the previous company I had failed). You guessed it right, he is the very person I was talking about earlier, the fortunate one who got the coveted sms from the acid company.

He said he would choose from the companies after seeing which one paid more and also depending on the location. If I was allowed to fully express my true feelings, I would have probably slapped him so hard he would shut his mouth at least until we reached the interview. Instead I snapped back that I was okay to work for a however meagre sum paid and in a location as far as Kashmir (in fact, I would have loved to work in the heaven in India that Jammu & Kashmir is).

When we reached the very office I am writing this from, I was intimidated by the sheer size of these gigantic buildings. As if that was not enough to ruffle my mind, there were about 1000 candidates flocking outside the gate. As I was standing in one of the infinitely long queues, I could overhear folks already discussing about the possible salary. They had, two or more job offers in hand, and just like my irksome friend, wanted to see if they could get a better pay cheque (I too could recognise many of the faces I had seen in the numerous previous interviews). On the other hand, people like me were struggling desperately to get their only job. I can assure you it is not the best feeling in the world, and how excruciating it can be. Greed of some depriving others of their livelihood. It is probably one of the main reasons of unemployment of youth in our country.

Also one thing I forgot to mention was the change in shirt. To all my previous interviews I used to wear my 'interview shirt', the one I kept aside exclusively for interviews. Since it didn't work at all, my mother asked me to wear another shirt to see if it brought any change in luck.

Entering this colosseum (it even had an amphitheatre), I was again finding myself praying to God for a genial HR, and fortunately got presented with one. He had a pleasant face brimming with a smile that greeted me. Exactly the kind I was longing for to encounter in an interview. And the Technical interview went on ever so calmly, he even asked me how  much I had expected to score in the aptitude test and was pleasantly surprised to find I had predicted correctly. And there were questions obviously from my area of interest, object oriented programming (more specifically, Java) and I had to explain about my project which I did with an aura of confidence that I gained by the very sight of the cheerful interviewer.

Within minutes, I was told to wait for the final round, the general interview. Yes, I had made it to the last round yet again.

The HR interview, which was more of a formality for others, but a nightmare for me. But again I was lucky to be greeted by a couple of amiable ladies as the interviewers. As usual I spoke my mind, and by the time it was over, had a reasonable peace of mind. I enquired them as to when the results would be out to learn that they would be in a week; and left the place feeling quite confident.

The next set of days were maybe the most anxious days of my petty life. Checking my email 10 times a day with angst became my routine. Finally, on the day after Ugadi (the Telugu New Year's day), the email arrived. And I had to read it twice to believe that the word was indeed Selected and not Rejected. (The change of shirts worked! One more trivial thing I discovered during my enduring ordeal is that both these words have the same keys on a cell phone. Do try it if you hadn't already known). That was probably one moment of happiness I could present to my family. It is the only thing I could give back to them after decades of endless care they have bestowed upon me with. For, to our parents, we were are the only source of joy, and we are the world to them, and everything they do is keeping us in mind. Feeling of happiness and joy filled my home the next few days, and after a week I found myself again back to this gigantic office, signing my offer letter.

God had indeed answered my prayers. He had signed my pact and I could realise the joy of employment. I knew since that I would till I live on this planet, be a strong believer in God, and be eternally grateful to this organisation for virtually taking me off the road and providing the refuge called employment.


I should have probably named this post 'The ordeal of my campus interviews' for that is what almost the whole of the post brags about. Anyway I would want to bring this  awfully long post to an end and would like to thank you rare readers for possessing the patience to go through this boring, never-ending rhetoric.

Viva la Furia Roja!!!

They said we were boring. They said we were defensive. They said our striker less formation was spineless. They said we were tired after a long season. They said we are ineffective. They said we can't score goals.

All that questions have been answered emphatically with a 4-0 thumping of the 2006 world champions; the biggest ever margin in a Euro final. Are four goals enough? And despite the Furia Roja being without their all time highest goal scorer, and the best defender in the country.

After starting the tournament rather sombrely, though they were not quite at their best, they were still the best team in the world by a distance; improving by the game and peaking at the summit. They had the nerves of champions; to put out the resistance of Croatia, and dispatch the French with panache, and keeing their cool in a nerve racking penalty shootout against the Portuguese. Despite they dominating every game they played, the cynics were gunning for them, as they would against any champion team. But never once in this tournament did they look like bowing out.

Though the Germans were the most fluid and efficient team in front of the goal, they couldn't overcome the Italy hurdle yet again (do read my previous post for the report of that semifinal match). Thus the hopes of a dream final were dashed. The two best sides in Europe, if not the world, and the two most attacking teams would have made for a spectacular summit clash in the Europe's showpiece event. Spain and Germany have for long been my favourite teams, and would have loved to see them vie with each other for Europe's most prized trophy.

Though, with their biggest threat eliminated in the semifinals, I could relax before the final being confident Spain would overcome the Azzuri with ease.

Italy were no pushovers, and in fact matched Spain in possession in the first half. But Spain were at their attacking best, and found the goals that were lacking earlier in the tournament; the first one with a typical Barca move and the second a splendid counter attack, with the future of Barca, Jordi Alba making a breathtaking run on the left.

And the midfield genius of Iniesta, Xavi, Fabregas and Silva dictating the terms in the attack. I don't think there has ever been such a talent seen in the midfield on a football pitch. Each of them maestros in their own way. And of course, the workhorses Alonso and Busquets, the link between defence and the midfield. Detractors criticised Spain's tactics of deploying two holding midfielders, and that it showed their defensive mindset. But what it did to is give the freedom to the full backs, Alba and Arbeloa to venture into attack, and we saw what wonders especially the to-be Barca left back did, wreaking havoc in the opposition's half.

And being an ardent Spanish and Barcelona supporter, it was good to see the camarederie between the stars of the archrivals Real and Barca. Which is possible not least because of having at the helm 'the Saint' Iker Casillas. Spain, in essence, follow Barca's style of football. But one glaring omission is a certain Lionel Messi. Though Fabregas is by no means Messi, in fact no one in the planet can even come closer to his genius, he was a key component of Spain's attack and was always threatening in front of goal, and also provided key assists. Sure they missed their best striker David Villa at times, but then that this what champions do, find other avenues of scoring. Of course, Xavi, Iniesta, Busquets, Pique, Fabregas, the Barca contingent at their belligerent best. But the Madrid players have been equally important, with the best goal keeper in the world Casillas, Ramos filling in the centre in place of the injured Puyol with aplomb, Arbeloa and Alonso supplying the attack while also being tight in defence; all an integral part of the Roja.


After being the perennial under achievers of world football, it all began to change starting in 2008, when a bunch of talented footballers divided by club fotball rivalries, were forged into a cohesive unit exemplifying the possession game;  capturing the imagination of the football lovers the world over with their aesthetic passing football. And the results are there for the world to see. Two Euros back to back and a World cup. And I am celebrating in my own petty way, wearing red today, just as the day they won the Fifa world cup two years ago.

Hope this camaraderie between the Madrid - Barcelona players continues, and we don't see them again engaging in brawls in the Clasicos.

Spanish football is here to dominate world football for decades to come.

Viva la Furia Roja!!! Viva Espana!!!

Two shocks in twenty minutes, in the world of sport

As I was trying to put behind the disappointment of Germany being knocked out of the Euros, and switched over to Star Sports to see Rafa's second Wimbledon match so that I could get a consolation before I sleep, the worse happened. Rafa too was knocked out by a 100 ranked player.
The sporting world shook twice in a matter of twenty minutes, two of the biggest upsets in recent times.

Germany, along with Spain, has for long been my favourite football team. The two most attacking teams in world football. The best teams by far in Europe, if not in the world. And I was hoping for a dream final, a repeat of the Euro 2008 final. Spain having reached after edging out Portugal in a penalty shootout, everything was in place, with Germany avenging their 2006 world cup defeat to Italy being just a formality.

When the match began, after struggling to get the ball for the first few minutes, settled into their rhythm, and laid siege to Buffon's goal. Italy were fortunate not to go atleast one goal behind. Instead, against the run of play, they broke away and Cassano beat two sloppy defenders before delivering a pin point cross to the mercurial Ballotelli, who slotted home with a thumping header. Germany were 0-1 down. They should have easily blocked Cassano, but took him and the Italian attack lightly and paid the price.

Thereafter, instead of being tighter at the back, as they could ill afford to concede another, they were again venturing forward in heaps for a corner, and again were caught napping, with a through ball finding Balotelli one on one with the keeper, and he fired another screamer of a shot to put the Azzuri two goals ahead.

And Germany went into the half time, with a daunting task ahead. But I was optimistic about they clawing their way back. If at all there was a team in these competitions that could overcome a 0-2 deficit it was the Germans. Their attacking style of play what makes them one of the powerhouses of Europe, but then the Italians have the best defence in Europe. With the naturally well built Italians holding off the German threat, it never looked like Germany would score. In fact, Italy should have made it atleast 5-0, but fluffed many an easy opportunity. Though the Germans eventually pulled one back stoppage team courtesy a penalty, it was too late. Once more Italy have knocked Germany in the semifinals of a major tournament.

It seemed as though complacency did the Germans in. They underestimated the attacking threat Italy posed, and were lackadaisical in defence. They probably thought the Italians would sit back for whole of ninety minutes, and look to cash in on set pieces or drag the game to penalties. The defence, which should have tightened after the first goal, fell apart. 1-0 down even after 80 minutes would have still given them a chance to claw back, but instead allowed the Italians to virtually shut them out with a second goal.


And how they missed the experience of their talisman, the legendary Michael Ballack. One of my favourite players of all time. I also felt his presence would have made a huge difference even when in the world cup semifinal when they lost to  Spain. They have the quality and exuberance of youth - they are the youngest squad in the Euros with an average age of 24 -but they sorely missed the experience Ballack would have brought to the table. We saw how Zidane, at the wee end of his career, almost inspired his side to win the 2006 world cup. With all respect to Klose, whom along with Ballack I 've been following since the 2002 world cup, if Klose can play at this age, Ballack certainly can, and he would his inspiring presence would have propelled his teammates on to the final. But I feel Germans are due for success in a major tournament, they deserve it more than any other, and they would do it sooner or later.


On the bright side though, it would make Spain's task of retaining their European crown easier. For, the Germans were their biggest threat. Though I would have backed Spain to win against Germany anyway, this result should quash the doubts if any in my mind. Viva la Furia Roja!!!


And when I switched on to Rafa's match hoping I could get a small consolation before I could sleep peacefully, the unthinkable happened. Rafa too was knocked out by a rank outsider from Czech Republic, who stunned the onlookers with this thunderous forehands. I don't even remember his name, it was Rusol or Rosol, but it certainly ended a horrific day of sport.

People live by their deeds and not in years

As I was pondering over what to write on, somewhere from the recesses of my subconscious mind, this topic, true to the title of my blog, struck to me on a whim. It was an English elocution topic given to us in high school.  At the time maybe my vocabulary wasn't large enough to understand the words, or maybe even if it was, my childish brain couldn't grasp the sense.


Now, nearly after a decade and a half, with whatever little has added on to my vocabulary, and how much ever meagre my mind has grown over the years, this topic makes such a lot of sense. I am just astonished at the simple yet powerful notion it carries. Not that you wouldn't get it, but just to reiterate the great meaning the title holds, a person's life is measured by the good things he/she does and not for how many years he/she has lived for. Posterity isn't going to remember you by the number of years you spent on the earth but rather by what you've given to the planet.


As I reminisce the topic, the first person that comes to my mind is Swami Vivekananda.
No five words have evoked such awe and no other introductory line of a lecture has received an ovation lasting two full minutes than "Sisters and Brothers of America".

At a time when the west envisaged India as a land of snakes, and stricken with illiteracy and poverty, beginning with this historic speech at the World Parliament of Religions in 1893 and  many more subsequent lectures in various parts of the world, he paved the way for dispelling the fallacious notion people had of this great country. Such was the enlightment endowed upon the Americans that a newspaper remarked to its citizens, "Vivekananda is undoubtedly the greatest figure in the Parliament of Religions. After hearing him we feel how foolish it is to send missionaries to this learned nation."


After delivering historic lectures all around America, Europe and parts of Asia, spreading the message of Hinduism and the oneness of God and Religion, upon returning home, he set upon travelling to every corner of the country, with the noble mission of awakening fellow countrymen from the slumber they were for long resigned into, reminding them of the gloriuos past and the rich cultural virtues prevalent in this land; persuading them in pursuing to fulfill its unrealised potential of becoming a prosperous nation.


The irony in the present day is that we find most people, especially in this industry, trying to emulate western practices in every possible way.


I 've always been inspired by the great Indian, but of late, since I began writing this post, I've been reading his lectures and preachings. So profound were his thoughts that to fathom their sense takes a good read or two. To think that I was born in the land as this great man, makes me ever so proud of belonging to this great nation.

And for all that he had done to the world and India, and his deeds which will last for centuries altogether, he had lived for all of 40 years.

These days at 40, if you are a manager in an multinational company, earn a handsome purse, live in a plush apartment, rev up that SUV to the parties you throw to colleagues and so called friends, your life is deemed a success. As for the wandering monk, who abandoning home and renouncing worldly pleasures, travelling to all corners of the country, reminding his comrades of their duties towards their nation, and spreading the rich glory of this noble nation to the rest of the world, would be termed a maniac. It is an unfair, cruel and blasphemous world we live in today.


Returning to the topic after all those digressions I couldn't refrain from, I can think of quite a few other great people whose deeds would outlast the duration of the planet. The revolutionaries, Chandrasekar Azad and Bhagat Singh, lived for barely 24 years, but their tales of valour would remain an indispensable part of India's great Freedom Movement. The great mathematician, Srinivasa Ramanujan, who lived only for 32 years, whose contribution to Maths is celebrated the world over, was such a genius, that even today prominent mathematicians are working their way around his theorems. Alexander the Great, the great Macedonian conqueror, who had the ambition of conquering the world, too lived for only 32 years, but his folklore lasting even after twenty centuries, continues to be an inspiration for many a living being.


There are many other great persons who had lived on this planet whose deeds would last as long as the last of the mountains on this planet will.

Somebody wake me up from my dream

I still can't believe what I saw last Saturday. Has Chelsea really won the Champions League? Somebody please wake me up from my dream.
 
After a harrowing month of footballing results, there I was eagerly awaiting the 19 th of May, hoping for some sanity to prevail in the world of soccer. The Champions league 2011-12 was to take place that night at Munich.
 
A Barca-Bayern final would have been the ultimate summit clash in Europe football's premier competition. A clash of titans. The two most attacking clubs in Europe exemplifying the Spanish and German style of football would have been a visual delight for the connoisseurs of beautiful football. By far the best team on the planet against the closest team to them at their home stadium would sure have produced attacking football of the  highest quality. That a majority of the respective national team players play for these clubs would have made it a virtual Germany - Spain clash, a dress rehearsal of sorts for the Euro final barely a month away.
 
I am sure the Bavarians are the only team who would take the attack to Barca. All the other so called heavyweights of Europe, viz. Real Madrid, AC Milan, Arsenal, Chelsea, Inter Milan invariably resort to defensive football against the Catalans and look to snatch an improbable victory with the odd counter attack or from a dead ball. So this was a dream final for the purists, a more even contest than a probable Clasico final.
 
In fact, when the semifinal line up was ready, I was already contemplating my Facebook update for the final.  " Germany + Robben + Ribery   Vs   Spain + Messi "   was going to be my Facebook status had everything gone according to my wish and the laws of nature.
 
Instead it was Bayern Munich vs Chelsea. It was going to be one of the most one-sided finals in the history of the Champions league.

After Barca’s harrowing defeat to Chelsea, which I wish to banish from my memory and like not to elaborate, all that I could look forward to was for my other favourite team in their home ground to thrash our foes. The only guessing I did was about how big the margin would be; would it be a 5-0 thrashing or a 6-0 drubbing. Little did I think there was going to be another jolt to my footballing senses.

 The match followed the same pattern as the Barca-Chelsea match. If anything Bayern looked more threatening than the Spanish club, and definitely more assured in defence. I wouldn't want to report the match as it unfolded, but Bayern effectively should have sealed the match in the first half. They dominated the possession, looked meancing in attack creating many opportunities, and the defence was strong enough to quell the odd Chelsea counter attack. They were all over Chelsea, as expected, but despite their absolute domination, were pathetic in front of goal. The shooting was just appalling. The first touches awful. I was lamenting about Barca's lack of clinical finishing and missed penalties, but Bayern take the cake. Wonder if they forgot to wear their football shoes and were in their dancing shoes instead. The commentators said Gomez has scored 41 goals this season. I wonder how many goals he missed before scoring that many. This guy needs at least 10 touches before netting a goal. And Muller fluffed many a chance before eventually heading one in. And when Robben missed a penalty in the extra time, I had an uncanny feeling he was going to miss, after Drogba had equalised with a thundering header it became evident who the winner would be.

Chelsea were destined to win the Champions league. Even the commentators were mocking about Chelsea’s name being already written on the trophy.

 First Valencia should have finished them off, then Napoli after having taken a 3-1 first leg lead. Then the giants Barca and Bayern Munich. But it was after all Chelsea’s Champions league. One man who deserved it though was their talisman, Didier Drogba, who was also one of the reasons they won it.
 
I was hoping a disastrous run at Chelsea would force Torres to return to where he belongs, to Liverpool FC (however optimistic it might sound). But after this, and the Reds’ miserable season it might never happen.
 
It's been a harrowing month of football for me. Defensive tactics and ugly football prevailing over beautiful attacking football.  A lot of results going awry.  Chelsea winning the CL at the expense of Barcelona and Bayern Munich, defying all footballing logic.  And Barcelona losing the Clasico to a similar approach and with it the La Liga to rivals Real Madrid. Though it is refreshing to see a change of guard in the title holders of the three major leagues of Europe in the form of Juventus, Manchester City and Real Madrid I would have preferred a Valencia or a Levante to dethrone the best team on the planet.


I just can't take it anymore. Need some time off football to recover from this spate of unjust results.


Having watched the Inception lately, and going along its lines, I would like to believe I am still in a dream, and would need a kick to be awoken realising that Bayern Munich, if not FC Barcelona, have won the Champions league 2011-12.

A gruelling weekend of sport

This weekend, to the sporting world, has been a great one, culminating in the longest Grand Slam final in Tennis history. The rebuilding Aussies completing a whitewash, but a seemingly bright test career blossoming with the century of Virat Kohli, Leander Paes completing a career grand slam in doubles, Liverpool FC knocking out the two Manchester clubs out of two cup competitions, Real Madrid steering seven points clear of archrivals Barcelona in the Spanish league. And of course the epic final in the Colosseum called Melbourne, two warriors with magical physical powers, summoning every ounce of strength left to put up a spectacle that would go down as the greatest battle ever in the annals of Tennis history.


But for me, it was a series of heartbreaks. One jolt after another in the three sports I follow the most.

 
First in cricket. I was disppointed not because India were whitewashed. It was imminent ever since we squandered away the advantage in Melbourne. But my never ending hope that atleast one of the legends will score a century to salvage some pride ended with the last innings, at the flattest wicket In Australia. I have no doubt in my mind that this was the best batting line up India could put together. But the disheartening thing is the legends of the game, are facing such humiliation which has undone the service they have done to the nation for the past decade and a half. Former cricketers, who weren't even half as good, are calling for their heads, and every so called cricket fan says the seniors should be axed. Such is the ignominy they face now. I would have loved to see them bow out on a high, and leave the game on their terms. Certainly not ending in such a humiliation. The Golden generation of Indian cricket is all but over. When the last of Laxman, Dravid, Tendulkar retires, I would bid a huge goodbye to the game of cricket.


 Then, FC Barcelona, the best football team on the planet at the moment, stuttered yet again away from home this season. Being held to a goalless draw by the out of sorts Villareal who  languish in the relegation zone. While Real brushed aside Zaragoza to be a comfortable 7 points ahead in the league table. This, barely a week after the catalans knocked out the capital club from Copa del Ray, rather unconvicingly but hanging on in the end. by the catalan outfit.knocking Madrid out of the Copa del ray, but not entirely convincing though. Had Madrid grabbed the chances it had created, it would have been a different story altogether, but Barca just about hung on. Barca seem to be playing at two different levels this season. Ruthless at home, and feeble away, present points to whoever wants. Unless Madrid stutter along similarly, Champions league and the Copa del ray could be the only Silverware the Catalans can add to their collection of already 3 this season( Spanish Super cup, European Super Cup, Club World cup).


And the most heartbreaking of all. In an epic final at the Melbourne Park, Rafa was ousted by the world no 1 Djokovic. When it seemed he was all but out, trailing by a set, and 0-40 down in the seventh game in the fourth set, it looked like we were heading into another of those Djokovic's thrashings of the Spaniard in grand slam finals. But then Rafa showed the world why he is one of the greatest tennis players ever, saving 3 break points and winning 5 points on the trot, eventually dragging the match to the 5th set. The Spaniard's tenacity coming to the fore. Even the heavens opened up for a while. And there came the fifth set. Rafa was at his dominating best, and being a break up, at 4-2 and it looked almost certain he had finally broken the  finals jinx against Djoker. He had  the Serb running to all parts of the court, even causing the Serb to lie on the floor in desperation. But it seemed Rafa had become a touch complacent, sending a few shots wide, the unrelenting Serb winning a couple of crucial points to break level, and subsequently breaking again to win his 5th grand Slam title. It was almost 2 in the morning , and the Serb ripping his shirt apart, flexing his muscles and rambling through the Melbourne park like a raging bull would sure would go down as the weirdest scenes witnessed on a tennis court, even more than the grass eating act at Wimbledon. As a Nadal supporter,  it is a gut wrenching loss. Excruciatingly close yet so far. On the brighter side though, finally Nadal has taken their game to the 5th set. And hope he goes one step further at Wimbledon and the Flushing Meadows.

Show respect to the Legends

Just how often over the past decade have we seen this. Former players, the media and so-called cricket fans calling for Laxman to be axed. And in the subsequent game, Laxman rising from the ashes and conjuring up a match winning knock, or should we say, a career saving knock. What happens then. These very people shamelessly shower him with accolades, hailing him as 'Very Very Special Laxman', the 'Crisis man' and so on.

Now, in the aftermath of yet another terrible start down under, the former cricketers have again started calling for Laxman's head. It is ironic these talks come up in series against a country he has had hell a lot of success. He has been the most feared batsman in the Aussie camps of the past decade and a half. He has been a thorn in their flesh, scoring six centuries, three of them at Sydney itself and has played many a match winning knock. And of course, who can after all forget the innings of 281 which was the turning point of Indian cricket.

Even in the last innings at Sydney he made batting look ridiculously easy. There are few pleasant sights in cricket than his elegant cover drive or a wristy flick. It was as if Laxman and Tendulkar were batting on a different wicket from the rest. At the MCG, when Dravid and Tendulkar were batting at 200 odd for 2, it looked as though India was poised for a big lead. But what happened, as soon as the legends were dismissed, it was a familiar story, the great Indian collapse after Tendulkar's wicket.

Just last year, on a green Durban strip, when the ball was swinging like a banana, Laxman single handedly won us the match. He was the highest scorer on either side in both the innings. And a few months before that, he won us a thriller at Mohali against Aus rallying with the tail after a match winning fourth innings century in Sri Lanka a little while earlier.

He is probably the batsman who has won the most no of test matches for India. The statistics might show he has only 8000 runs. But what they don't show is the context of the game in which they were made. He relishes pressure, and seems to be missing the thrill while playing in the first innings. How many countless second innings heroics have we seen from Laxman.

It's not just Laxman who has been a victim of this. This has happened to the other legends too.

Already we are facing a crisis at the No.6 spot vacated by Ganguly. We have been struggling to fill it for the last 3 years. Even today if Ganguly were to step out of the commentary box and don the whites he would the best possible no. 6 for India. But he has had his share of humiliation and didn't want to face any more ignominy. He said enough was enough and exited on his own terms, when on a high.

Barely 12 months back, people were gunning for Rahul Dravid's head. After a series of low scores by his own standards, there talks that his time was over, should India look into the future. What happened after that. A series winning knock in the Carribean, and then then three centuries in a dream tour of England, a nightmare tour for the others. How good the English attack was, they failed to get past the wall but for the DRS howlers. Since then the same people who had written him off earlier had no qualms about showering praises on him.

It is a pity these legends have to keep proving themselves to the world time and again.

If we just peep into the enemy camp Ponting and Hussey were almost in a similar situation where their career was on the line. And how majestically they showed at the MCG and the SCG around crumbling youngsters, that Class doesn't vanish overnight.

Legends know when to retire. After all they have served the nation for more than 15 years. They know the most about their game and the game of cricket more than we do. They know what is good for Indian cricket and when to retire.

This week at Perth, it wouldn't be surprising if Laxman rises like a phoenix again, and makes yet another match winning score against his favourite adversary. And of course, we would see again the former players and headlines in the news saying ‘Class is permanent', ‘Experience is what matters', India's unsung hero, the second innings man, blah blah blah.

 

Just came across this quote, couldn't help but cite it.

"If you get Dravid, great. If you get Sachin, brilliant. If you get Laxman, it's a miracle."

      - Brett Lee repeats the words of wisdom of his former captain, Steve Waugh 27 Sep 2004.