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Sanjeeb Mukherjea
Wednesday, May 12, 2010

Being real cool


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For Viswanathan and Susheela Iyer, their humble abode in Customs Colony, Besant Nagar is ensconced in quiet celebration yet again. Such occasions have come home quite often since their 'Baba' steered himself right into the collective consciousness of the chess fraternity more than 25 years ago and gave the nation another reason to celebrate. And as proud parents of Viswanathan Anand, they will surely soak in the soothing knowledge that their son, Viswanathan Anand is in reality the master of his own destiny. After the hypnotic stranglehold that events like the Kasab judgement, Tharoorgate, Modi and IPL, and of course India's much vaunted T20 World Cup campaign that sank without a trace in the Caribbeans, here is how the affable genius overcame the odds, without even squirming once. A 40-hour ride from Frankfurt to Sofia isn't really the best way to warm-up for a game, even if you aren't....


Wednesday, May 12, 2010

Being real cool


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For Viswanathan and Susheela Iyer, their humble abode in Customs Colony, Besant Nagar is ensconced in quiet celebration yet again. Such occasions have come home quite often since their 'Baba' steered himself right into the collective consciousness of the chess fraternity more than 25 years ago and gave the nation another reason to celebrate. And as proud parents of Viswanathan Anand, they will surely soak in the soothing knowledge that their son, Viswanathan Anand is in reality the master of his own destiny. After the hypnotic stranglehold that events like the Kasab judgement, Tharoorgate, Modi and IPL, and of course India's much vaunted T20 World Cup campaign that sank without a trace in the Caribbeans, here is how the affable genius overcame the odds, without even squirming once. A 40-hour ride from Frankfurt to Sofia isn't really the best way to warm-up for a game, even if you aren't....


Monday , July 09, 2007

Rajini, The Blogbuster


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Dear Rajini Sarr, At the onset a thousand apologies to have ignored you so far in this forum. We Aryan Indians are terribly clannish in our collective ignorance of Dravidian cinema and stars. Hence we are "kanstantly" overhyped about a certain tall dapper man in his 60's who has a voice of an angel. Or a rather hyperactive, face-contorting, pout-hanging, stammering self-proclaimed "King" of Hindi filmdom. They be good, Sarr but you... You are better! Believe me Sarr till such time I saw your new blockbuster Sivaji, my recurrent memory of you was from 80's potboilers like Geraftaar and Hum. And a certain "Jaggu" taxi driver from Chalbaaz but alas some lady from down south stole the thunder from under your feet in that flick. For those inconsequential memories of you I have etched in mind I deserve to be hung upside down from an eucalyptus....


Wednesday, November 15, 2006

Broken


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Sad Songs (Say So Much) Music: Elton John Lyrics: Bernie Taupin Guess there are times when we all need to share a little pain And ironing out the rough spots Is the hardest part when memories remain And it's times like these when we all need to hear the radio `Cause from the lips of some old singer We can share the troubles we already know Turn them on, turn them on Turn on those sad songs When all hope is gone Why don't you tune in and turn them on They reach into your room Just feel their gentle touch When all hope is gone Sad songs say so much If someone else is suffering enough to write it down When every single word makes sense Then it's easier to have those songs around The kick inside is in the line that finally gets to....


Friday , September 15, 2006

History or Heritage?


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It felt like walking back in time as I made my way past the huge shisham and peepal trees, each more than a century old. The birthplace of Test cricket in Pakistan, the near-forgotten Bagh-e-Jinnah ground awaited me. It was here that the Maharaja of Patiala used to play against Lahore Gymkhana teams in the early part of the previous century. Douglas Jardine, Lala Amarnath, Keith Miller, Wesley Hall, Fazal Mahmood are just a few of the names I could think of at that moment -- men who've played some of their best cricket out here. Laid out in a north-south direction so that so that the sun wouldn't blind the players, the pitch told me that this place had more in store. Little did I know. Revered by many great cricketers as the Mecca of Pakistan cricket, the Bagh-e-Jinnah has been witness to some fantastic cricket.....


Friday , September 15, 2006

6 cms, 13 gates and Corollas


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Felt like the Yankee in King Arthur's Court the moment I landed in Lahore. Tall, hefty immigration officers and policemen greeting us at every nook and cranny! Alongwith the other 20-odd journos, our group least resembled Team India. Yaani ki... "Amitabh sir khushnumaz hain toh", asked Asad Jaan, puffing on his tobacco stick, while driving us to PC (Pearl Continental). The car stereo blared "Kal Ho Na Ho", as we sped away from the lofty Allama Iqbal Airport. Hmm, time for Mr. Bhardwaj, my accompanying cameraman to blurt out "gaana kam kijiye". Poor Rajesh. Here he was, in the land of aggro-cricket, and was being asked about Bolly's Oakwood!! "Varaye Meherbani", pat came Asad's snorter. The first of many to follow over the next few days. Shock and surprise over, we walk into an elevator to find Sachin and Zaheer. Before I could strike up some polite conversation,....


Friday , August 18, 2006

Fazal Mahmood once more


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I haven't kept my promise. As I went visiting Pakistan, I haughtily wrote in that I would certainly recount all my experiences there. Did start off well, but somehow, couldn't quite keep it going. Yet I clearly remember all that I've come across. And as I saw the date today, I remembered one particular story I had thought about filing today. Yes, as I came out of 95-B, Allama Iqbal Road in Ghari Shahu on a windy January afternoon, I had promised myself that I would do this story. On time. To know what it is all about, lets go back to the seventeenth day of August, 1954. At 109 for 2, England needed just 59 runs to complete a 2-0 sweep of their test series against the first-time visitors Pakistan. But one man had different ideas alltogether... With his deceptive late movement and those famous....


Friday , August 18, 2006

Fazal Mahmood once more


0IBNLive IBNLive Google Buzz

I haven't kept my promise. As I went visiting Pakistan, I haughtily wrote in that I would certainly recount all my experiences there. Did start off well, but somehow, couldn't quite keep it going. Yet I clearly remember all that I've come across. And as I saw the date today, I remembered one particular story I had thought about filing today. Yes, as I came out of 95-B, Allama Iqbal Road in Ghari Shahu on a windy January afternoon, I had promised myself that I would do this story. On time. To know what it is all about, lets go back to the seventeenth day of August, 1954. At 109 for 2, England needed just 59 runs to complete a 2-0 sweep of their test series against the first-time visitors Pakistan. But one man had different ideas alltogether... With his deceptive late movement and those famous leg-cutters, Fazal....


Wednesday, February 01, 2006

History or Heritage?


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It felt like walking back in time as I made my way past the huge shisham and peepal trees, each more than a century old. The birthplace of Test cricket in Pakistan, the near-forgotten Bagh-e-Jinnah ground awaited me. It was here that the Maharaja of Patiala used to play against Lahore Gymkhana teams in the early part of the previous century. Douglas Jardine, Lala Amarnath, Keith Miller, Wesley Hall, Fazal Mahmood are just a few of the names I could think of at that moment -- men who've played some of their best cricket out here. Laid out in a north-south direction so that so that the sun wouldn't blind the players, the pitch told me that this place had more in store. Little did I know. Revered by many great cricketers as the Mecca of Pakistan cricket, the Bagh-e-Jinnah has been witness to some fantastic cricket.....


Wednesday, January 25, 2006

6 cms, 13 gates and Corollas


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Felt like the Yankee in King Arthur's Court the moment I landed in Lahore. Tall, hefty immigration officers and policemen greeting us at every nook and cranny! Alongwith the other 20-odd journos, our group least resembled Team India. Yaani ki... "Amitabh sir khushnumaz hain toh", asked Asad Jaan, puffing on his tobacco stick, while driving us to PC (Pearl Continental). The car stereo blared "Kal Ho Na Ho", as we sped away from the lofty Allama Iqbal Airport. Hmm, time for Mr. Bhardwaj, my accompanying cameraman to blurt out "gaana kam kijiye". Poor Rajesh. Here he was, in the land of aggro-cricket, and was being asked about Bolly's Oakwood!! "Varaye Meherbani", pat came Asad's snorter. The first of many to follow over the next few days. Shock and surprise over, we walk into an elevator to find Sachin and Zaheer. Before I could strike up some polite conversation,....


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