Champions League semis

Two days back, I wondered if the Arsenal-Villareal match would be worth watching. Given the way Villareal had played last week, it was very likely that Arsenal would bottle them up and would pump in another goal or two to settle the issue.

Instead, I thought I should conserve my sleep on that day so that I could watch the more appetizing Barca-Milan match instead. These were two really strong clubs, I thought, so the match should be more interesting than the Arsenal-Villareal match. How wrong I was!

The Arsenal-Villareal match turned out to be one hell of an entertainer, with sublime Latin American passing pitted against dour European (I dare not say English ? Campbell was (and that too was only because of Senderos? injury) the only Brit on display) defending. The statistics showed that around 60% of the possession was with Villareal, but I think it would?ve been more.

The Villareal brand of football was a treat to watch. Mostly one (or two) touch, short and accurate passing, unrelenting pressure, and heavy buildup along the midfield. What impressed me most about Villareal?s game was that they never cleared the ball! They never kicked the ball without there being someone to receive it. Even in front of their own goalmouth, they preferred to take the ball out through short passes. Superb stuff!

Credit should also be given to Arsenal?s defending, especially Gilberto and Toure. The chief reason Villareal wasn?t able to penetrate Arsenal?s D too much was that both Riquelme and Forlan were completely tied down and put out of the game. In their absence, and with Franco being woefully out of touch, it was no surprise Villareal couldn?t penetrate too much, and on the few occasions Javi Venta exploited the weak Arsenal left-back, France somehow managed to not put it in.

90 minutes of amazing soccer, and not once did I feel sleepy through the course of the match. Contrast this to yesterday?s largely insipid Barca-Milan match where I drifted off to sleep every 10 minutes or so. Milan never seemed to be in the game, with Barca totally dominating them in the midfield. Don?t recall more than a couple of occasions when Milan threatened, with most of the action happening in their own half where Dida, for a change, was superb.

Four great clubs. Two games. Identical score-lines. And yet so different. Looking forward to the final on the 17th. Somehow I think Gunners will win that one.

PS: Milan was the only non-yellow team in the semis. Villareal wear yellow, and both Arsenal and Barca have yellow away jerseys! And Aruabbarena (Villareal left-back) is a really nice name to pronounce, just like Jotapata or Wasim Akram!

The long arms…

Given that my job requires me to wear formals for work daily, I’ve been trying to increase my collection of formal shirts. One small problem though – my arms are too long for my body, at least the shirtmakers seem to tell me that.

The basic problme is that my size shirts aren’t long enough to cover my arms. They end somewhere close to my watch making it look really really ugly! And shirts with longer arms are available in the more casual brands. I mean excalibur fits me but not arrow. Allen Solly fits me but not Louie Phillippe! And I need shirst that can be worn inside my suit!!

Giving up..

Dreamz Unlimited

Have been having really arbit and funny dreams of late. Two weeks ago, a certain somebody had written poetry for me. A day after that, my dad had admonished me for my excessively long phone calls ? this particular dream came true a couple of days after that!

Last week I dreamt that I had gone to the market with my father and was carrying a bagful of watermelons. I?m crossing the road to reach our car, when a watermelon slips out of the bag and falls on to the road. A passing car then runs over the fallen watermelon, completely crushing it and leaving the entire road in a mess. And then dad blasts me for it!

This partly came true when I was holding a bagful of tender coconuts the other day and had to cross the road with it to reach my aunt?s house. And while I?m crossing a coconut almost falls out of the bag. And my mom who?s accompanying me is about to scream at me. And I skillfully manage to catch the falling coconut while still balancing the bag of the rest of the coconuts. And I?m sure if I had dropped the coconut, the car which ran over it wouldn?t have been able to crush it!

This morning?s dream was the scariest. I dreamt that I receive a letter from my employer that they are currently overstaffed, and that they are laying me off ? a week before I am supposed to join. Reminds me of the IT bust in 2002 when several reputed software companies did that ? pick graduates from campuses and then lay them off even before it starts! Sincerely hope this dream doesn?t come true!

bride hunt

In order to find someone for myself and not go through the arranged marriage market, I?ve kinda started my search. The lazy bum I am, I?m using the hill-climbing algorithm. Think I have hit a local optimum. And jumping the gun being my habit, I tell my mom about it before I confirm it with the woman in question.

Anyways, mom is not happy with my search methodology and says that I?m not searching thoroughly enough, she now wants me to take a few more years and use simulated annealing or something that complicated so as to ?not simply settle for local optima?.

Crack maaDi

The lingo at any college is very likely to be affected by the local language of the surrounding areas. Like there are so many Tam words that have crept into the IITM lingo, and so many hindi words which are part of the lingo at Northern IITs. Given this background, it?s quite surprising that there isn?t much Kannada in the IIMB lingo.
Perhaps the only Kannada word or phrase to have crept in is ?crack maaDi?. Rather, this phrase is only half-Kannada, the other half being in English. maaDi means ?do?, in plural. maaDu is ?do? (for example, preethi maaDabaaradu, maaDidare hinde nODabAradu, which means one should never do love, but if you do, you shouldn?t look back), and when the u is replaced by I, it becomes a little more respectful.

Given this background, it?s interesting how this half-kannada phrase has been used or misused by most people. For one, I can never get myself to use it. Can?t think of addressing any of my classmates or whatever respectfully (in plural) so best case I say ?crack maaDu?. Coming back to the others, sometimes people want to ask you ?have you cracked?? and they say ?crack maaDi??!! repeated attempts to explain to them that they should say ?crack maaDidya? have been futile and I?ve resigned myself to ignoring such gross misuse! And have stopped getting annoyed when people misuse it.

Jowar Rotis

In the classification of food as North Indian and South Indian, one really nice thing which gets left out is North Karnataka cuisine. And the Govindrai Kamat group has managed to create fine dining out of this supposedly down-market food and has dedicated the terrace of almost all their restaurants for this!

The ambience is superb. Most tables are on the edge of the terrace and you get to look at the city. There is a live classical music performance daily, provides a nice background while you?re eating, and also keeps you occupied while you are waiting. Waiters are in the traditional Bombay-Karnataka attire ? dhoti-kurta and Gandhi cap.

Food is served on a plantain leaf, and starts off with a glass of spiced buttermilk (and chilly bajji if you opt for the special meal). Main course consists of jowar rotis (jOLada bhakri as it?s traditionally called) ? super-soft super-thin rotis made of jowar, mass-produced and yet served hot. Side dishes include a brinjal curry (something like baingan bharta), a dal, a green curry, raitha and raw onions and greens. Oh yeah, I forgot to mention the butter here! Really good stuff! As much as you can eat. It is then followed by the more south Karnataka fare of rice with sambar, rasam and curd. With the traditional plantain and paan to close the meal.

Definitely recommended. And at Rs. 70 per head, it?s a steal. Just make sure you drink lots of water though while you?re eating ? the rice-obsessed South Karnataka stomachs might find it tough to digest. Available at Kamat restaurants on Bull Temple Road, Minerva Circle and Gandhinagar, and maybe in a few other places.

Strong song

A while ago, I tried to remember my tryst with Indian classical music. The song that first came to my head was this one by purandara dasa:
Kereya neeranu kerege chelli, varava paDedavaranthe kaaNiro

Roughly translates to ?pour the water from the lake back into the lake and try to look as if you?ve gotten a boon or something!? Strong stuff. captures a lot of what a lot of people keep doing. Like my cousin who used to borrow money from her parents and buy gifts for them!

IIM vs Bangalore

Don?t know if I?ve written about this earlier, and too lazy to check the archives also, but want to mention that I didn?t find much of Bangalore in IIMB. The campus is so damn cosmopolitan, and the people in the shops there speak every language but Kannada, it is easy to forget which city you are in.

For example, during our super-stressful first week, when I had just moved from IITM, and when I never stepped out of campus, I repeatedly forgot that I was in Bangalore and parents were only a local call away! A number of times, I had to pinch myself to convince myself that I was in Bangalore.

Then, in my second week, I had to go to Jayanagar to meet a friend. So I walk out of campus, see a bus across the road, run across the road and behind the bus and finally get into it after it had started! And it was quite crowded, I must say. However, this particular incident left a homecoming kind of feeling in me.

I go to Jayanagar, meet friend, go for a really long walk with him, get back onto a crowded bus, make small talk with my co-passengers, bitch about Deve Gowda, and then get off at Bilekahalli. And then I walk in to campus and instantly find myself in a totally different world, perhaps in a totally different city!

More on arranged marriage

Earlier today I happened to meet an old friend, who was my benchmate in school for 9 years. Apart from the usual senti talk and looking back at our wonderful times in school, she talked about her impending wedding. Having failed to find someone for herself, she?s taken the plunge into the ?arranged marriage market?.

She was telling me about the several prospective grooms she?s been meeting. ?Some are so pathetic I start wondering how anyone gave them a job?, she says. She goes on to mention a couple of things a few of those prospectors had mailed her. Really funny stuff.

When it was time to leave, she tells me ?say hi to your mom. I?m sure I?ll meet her sometime soon when I come to deliver the wedding invite?.

Me: What? You?re sure you?ll find someone soon enough?
She: yeah yeah, as far as I know my mom has already found someone for me. Just that she?s not telling me.
Me: So you don?t know who it is but are giving consent?
She: Given my conservative family background, for a long time I?ve resigned myself to this kind of a wedding, so it?s not tough at all. And I know my mom well, and that she?ll find someone proper for me.
Me: All the best, take care, bye, etc.

Wondering if, a few years down the line, I?ll have to face a similar story?