The end of my childhood

They say that after thirty, every birthday is a pain. You can feel that you are getting old. It’s no more fun now – celebrating birthdays. Well, I've had three birthdays since I turned thirty and I never felt the pain. They were as much fun as they were earlier. But not now. Because something happened.

Today I saw Sachin Ramesh Tendulkar walk out for the last time to bat.

I was happy at first, I felt fortunate enough to see him bat one last time. But then he played a brilliant cover drive off Shillingford for a four. And then it hit me. I will never be able to see that shot again in my life. Or the perfect straight drive, or the back-foot cover drive, or the upper cut, or the paddle sweep. This revelation came crashing down on me. Suddenly, my heart became heavier than lead.

That’s when I knew that now my childhood is officially over. This is the beauty of Sachin Tendulkar. If our lives were a facebook page, he was the timeline. Every significant moment of my life is remembered by me with respect to a Sachin moment somewhere around that. I made my first school switch when he hit his first century. 1998 was one of the worst years of my life but it was bearable because it was his best. I left my home for the first time to study just before his historic tour of Pakistan. I don’t remember the exact date when I proposed my girlfriend but I remember it was a day after he hit a century.

This is the true impact of Sachin Tendulkar. Especially on people of my age. We all have our Sachin stories. I remember the first time I saw him bat. What’s more incredible is, I also remember what I was wearing that time, what my dad was wearing. I remember that it was my English Grammar exam next day and how I pleaded with my mother to go and watch the batsman who made my dad shout like a kid.

He was a role model too (major understatement). Bowlers in my school would try to imitate McGrath and Donald. After bowling a bouncer they would come up to us and sledge, use curses, spit in front of us. We imitated Sachin. Look in the distance, practice the shot and re-adjust the crotch. All this time without noticing the bowler. Now I see young batsmen with tattoos imitating Virat Kohli.

The speech after the match was simple and yet brilliant. It was good to see that all the politicians, officials and senior players didn’t try to meddle too much and gave him his space to speak to his fans. I had almost forgotten the terrible knot in the stomach that I experienced on seeing Sachin walk back to the pavilion after getting out. All was lost when he got out; if I were alone, I would switch the TV off. It all came back today, watching him walk back to the pavilion. By the time he had finished his speech, the knot had tightened and there was also a lump in my throat.  Strangely, it felt nice to have that sinking feeling again - for one last time.

A week from now I will be thirty-three. But I know this time it will be different. The joy will be muted, because the child in me has retired. Thank you Sachin Ramesh Tendulkar. For keeping that child alive for twenty-four years.

Mesmerizing Mukteshwar & Nainital

The options were Chitkul/Kalpa and Mukteshwar/Nainital. As always, the destination was finalized at the eleventh hour. Mukteshwar/Nainital it shall be.

I went home early from office from where Sunil picked me up. Topped up the car with CNG and petrol. Then we picked up Amit from his place. At 12:30 AM, we started the journey.

Day 1

Delhi – Ghaziabad – Moradabad – Rampur – Milak – Bilaspur – Rudrapur – Kathgodam – Bhimtal – Bhowali – Ramgarh - Mukteshwar

News has just broken about Eid ka chaand being spotted, so there was a huge rush on the road with people trying to reach homes and hometowns. We got caught in numerous traffic jams on the highway till Moradabad.

From then on it was a pleasant drive. We followed NH24 till Milak (8km after Rampur) avoiding the Rampur – Bilaspur stretch which has craters the size of Sunny Leone’s ass. The 33 km drive from Milak to Bilaspur is super picturesque – sprawling lush green farms and a narrow but superb road. Just before entering Uttarakhand, it started raining, which continued till Mukteshwar. I took the wheel from Sunil just after Milak – he drives beautifully till there is CNG left in the tank. After that, it’s a little bit scarier than The Evil Dead. Once I let him drive in the hills from Manali. I don’t give second chances.

A couple of kilometers from Kathgodam, you have to turn right for Bhimtal and Mukteshwar. Monsoon was in full flow. There were the ghosts of recent floods in UK in our minds. It was raining continuously. The forecast was for 3 days of heavy rains. I was starting to get scared shitless. Then came the scenery.

We forgot everything about the monsoons, about the landslides, about the floods, about the fears in our hearts, and just soaked ourselves in the beauty. The reasons became clear. This is why I love the mountains more than the sea. Everything changes with a turn on the road. One minute you are in the middle of a super green forest and another minute you are staring at the clouds weaving through the hills and going down a valley.

We reached Mukteshwar at around noon. It’s not a 12 hour drive (Delhi to Mukteshwar is around 340km). The reasons for the delay were the initial traffic jams, the frequent breaks in the hills for gawking at the views and taking photos, and an ATM gobbled up Amit’s 4500 bucks at Bilaspur after deducting the balance of his account, due to power failure. We tried the PWD guest house here but as expected they denied giving us a room. It’s supposed to have the best view of the snow laden mountains. Then we tried the KMVN guest house. They showed us a room with no TV, reeking of moist smell and with a view of a freshly built non-plastered, non-painted wall. We declined. Then we found the Sunrise Inn. The view from the balcony was breathtaking. But that was the only good thing about that inn. Service was slower than India’s GDP rise, TV didn’t work, food was abysmal, and the owner was a brat. We had a spat with him in the night. He was ready to throw us out at midnight. All he wanted was his advance.

Chauli ki Jaali is a 300m trek from the road. It is a natural formation of rocks jutting out from the mountain with spectacular views of the valley below and ranges far away. Clouds made it impossible to view the distant ranges but we weren’t complaining. 

The sky cleared somewhat during sunset and we were blessed with some divine scenery. 

Day 2

Mukteshwar – Ramgarh – Bhowali - Nainital

After the bitter spat with the owner the night before, we left early from the hotel (read 9 AM). 33 km to Bhowali and a further 10 km from there took us to my favorite hill station – Nainital. 

There was a huge rush today. The permanent parking was huge but full. We parked a little distance away from there and went in search of a hotel. I have never stayed in Parshant hotel but the view of the lake was excellent. 

After freshening up, we went for stroll on The Mall, had delicious momos, and went towards the ropeway. It was booked full for the day so we booked next day’s ticket in advance. The hotel had parking facility so we took the car from the public parking and went back to the hotel.

We left the hotel again for boating. But halfway through the Mall it started raining, forcing us to buy umbrellas at double prices. Nevertheless, we hired the boat after the rain subsided. But then again, in the middle of the lake, it started raining again. Clouds and rain engulfing us, the umbrellas open, in the middle of the lake trying desperately for shore – surreal and scary. 

Day 3

Nainital – Kathgodam – Rudrapur – Bilaspur – Milak – Rampur – Moradabad – Ghaziabad - Delhi

Driving away from hills makes me sad and frustrated. Driving away from Nainital makes me sad, frustrated and angry. I drove the 35 km hilly area and gave the wheel to Sunil at Kathgodam. After that I was continuously bitching about his driving skills. It was his character and a mark of our friendship that he took it all in his stride (or may be he’s just thick-skinned). At Rampur, for reasons privy to Uttar Pradesh Police, we were forced to leave the highway and enter the city. After re-entering the highway, the opposite carriageway was closed till Garh Mukteshwar and all the traffic was plying on a single carriageway. This added to our frustration.

We reached Ghaziabad at 9.30 PM, dropped Amit, and then I was dropped at my place 15 minutes later. Half an hour later, I dropped dead in my bed.

1980s

I think it’s the age. Nostalgia is at its worst in the thirties. There are so many memories that it would take me another thirty years to share them. Childhood now is so much different from what it was in the eighties. I’ve read many mails, SMSs, Facebook posts, et cetera reminding me of my childhood. These mails/SMSs /Facebook posts occur as frequently as India – Sri Lanka ODIs. I’ve read them a thousand times. But for the heck of it, if another one comes now, I’ll probably read it again.

The thing is – I love eating food. And I hate exercises. So I eat a lot of food and I don’t exercise. This imbalance in my personal universe has resulted in a significant increase in my body weight, and volume. A doctor chipped in and painted a more gruesome picture than any Hussain. So it was inferenced and advised that I should eat less and exercise more. Which I hate, as aforementioned.

Often I used to think about my childhood – the things we did, the food we ate, the games we played, pastimes, TV shows, VCRs – but never before I felt nostalgic as I did when the doctor,  ah the doctor, advised about the exercise. How I loved playing cricket and football. This thought gave me an idea. Instead of walking/cycling five miles and staying on the same spot, I can play a sport! But I wanted to play a different sport. This is how I started lawn tennis.

That was two years ago.

There are kids in a sports complex. Either they are by themselves (teenagers) or they are with their parents. While playing or warming up or jogging, I notice them, and couldn’t help thinking about my childhood or teenage. And how lucky was I growing up in the eighties.

Here are the advantages:

The best one is – if you could lie, and lie convincingly, people would get awed. Brag about anything and you would become the undisputed leader of your bunch. In fifth grade, I lied about watching Kapil Dev’s 175* on TV. Nobody dared to dispute me. Now, a couple of my childhood friends with good memories have already fried me for those lies. In present times, kids find it difficult to lie. Their claims can be easily verified on Google or Wikipedia.

Another advantage was our ability to climb trees. Tiffin in school was usually eaten on a branch of tree. It would take me not more than five minutes to climb down my terrace, run across the yard, climb the tree, take out the tangled kite from a branch, climb down and run back up to the terrace. Surprisingly, I never broke any bones because of this. Climbing tree and cycles were responsible for more than half of the broken bones cases in our times. I was watching a kid trying to climb a tree in the sports club one day. To my horror, his mom started shouting like Momota didi and forced him away. Our parents never did that.

Football was the cheapest sport. Just an oversized orb (of soft material) was needed. Chappals marked the goal posts. There was never any grass on the field. You could wear shorts, trousers, or pajamas. Nowadays, the kids must have proper shoes (Rs. 5000), three to four footballs (Rs. 2000), any European club jersey (Rs. 6000) and then I watch their expression when they had to venture out of the grass into the mud and dirty their shoes (priceless). Or their parents just gift them a Playstation.

Gulel was like an AK-47 in our hands. We were expert marksmen. Kites which were tangled very high on the trees were our favorite targets. I once watched a kid at the playground trying out a branded plastic Gulel. He hit himself.

Cricket. Ah..cricket. Every single evening, every fucking single evening, was spent playing cricket. We played cricket to become like Kapil or Sachin. Now they play cricket to get rich.

Antakshari is no longer possible. Unless you confiscate cell phones of everyone who is playing, or watching.

There are countless more things – Hum Log, Ramayan, Mithun da was the pinnacle of dancing, Amitabh Bachchanwa didn’t had a beard, Ravi Shastri would not know what a tracer bullet was, there were only shorts and trousers – no Bermudas or three-fourths or seven-eigths, only two kinds of hairstyles – champu and Mithun da’s,  ten paise coins and one rupee notes.

Times change. May be our kids will tell their kids that our parents played football with legs, we played with a TV and a thumbs, now you people just put on your Google glasses (may be Apple will come up with iSpecs) and play with your eyes.

Another day comes to an end.  

The cast of Expendables

I have been very much inspired by this movie. The childhood dream of watching all the action heroes together coming to reality was too much for me. This is a perfect example of a shitty story saved by the megastar cast. It proves that old-timers like Arnold, Sly, Bruce, Dolph, Chuck, JCVD can still kick ass. The good news is that E2 has managed to gather the A-list of all-time action-movie stars; the bad news is that as a result, whether or not you liked the original Expendables, E2 will be far from the best action flick in which the dudes in the film have starred. (Okay, except maybe Dolph.) 

So I was thinking of the best, ass-kicking action movies these guys have individually worked in. and I came up with these.

Sylvester Stallone

Rocky: It’s the best underdog movie. Both on and behind the camera. I heard that it was written by a nobody named Sylvester Stallone and the makers were not keen on his insistence to do the lead role himself. They finally relented, and the world was treated to the story of a goofy simpleton and middling club fighter Rocky Balboa who stumbles into an unlikely chance to fight the heavyweight champion of the world, Apollo Creed. Rocky doesn’t win, but he goes the distance (15 rounds) with Creed after participating in the best training montage ever put on film.

Runners up: First Blood. When a small town dictatorial sheriff messes with a peace-loving but troubled war veteran, things start to get messy for the police. The action takes some time to come but it’s worth the wait.

Arnold Schwarzenneger

Predator: there are so many Arnie movies that picking up from them is a difficult task. My favorite is Predator. It triumphs over Judgment Day because of its cast. it does an awesome job characterizing the bunch of misfit soldiers. Then there is the arm-wresting match. The special effects were wonderful for those times and hold up today also.

Runners up: Terminator 2: Judgment Day. Period.

Bruce Willis

Die Hard: Termed as the greatest action movie ever made. Bruised, battered, shoeless, and bleeding out, John McClane goes all Thor lightening on terrorists at the Nakatomi Plaza. The movie has a tight script, a classic bad guy in Hans Gruber — for a long amount of time the best action-movie villain before being bettered by the Joker in Dark Knight — and just the right amount of humor.

Runners up: Pulp Fiction. In spite of all the blood and gore, it’s hard to call Pulp Fiction an action movie. It’s a cult classic nonetheless.

Jason Statham

Having starred in numerous action movies in a non-central role, Statham got his chance in The Transporter. One thing that this movie teaches us – never open another person’s mail. Unless you dig asian chicks.

Runners up: Crank. The sheer pace of this movie blows me off.

Jet Li

Lethal Weapon IV: I can’t remember the names of most of his movies. The first time I saw him was in this one. Most of the time he remains quite, in the background. But when he explodes, reminds us of a certain chap called Bruce Lee.

Runners up: Romeo Must Die.

Dolph Lundgren

Rocky IV: Definitely. The process of “acting” takes a backseat in his movies. That’s why I think Rocky IV was tailor-made for him. It was as if Rocky Balboa was fighting The Terminator. But the defeat in the climax reminds us that he’s human.

Runners up: The Expendables. Let’s be frank, he hasn’t worked in very many good movies.

Jean-Claude Van Damme

Bloodsport: Bloodsport is Van Damme at his finest. It’s full of badass training and fighting montages, and Ogre from Revenge of the Nerds plays JCVD’s sidekick. What else could you possibly want in a 80s action flick?

Runners up: Hard Target, is not director John Woo’s finest work, but there is a scene in which JCVD, sporting a mullet, a terrible creole accent, and Wilford Brimley as a sidekick, punches out a snake. That’s right — he punches. out. a. snake. 

Chuck Norris

Way of the Dragon: Not more than 15 minutes was his total screen time in this movie. But there was this all time greatest duel in the end. Probably the only time he lost. Unlike Rajnikant.