It is funny listening to the commentary team for the second ODI - one Englishman (Collingwood, I presume) and one Indian (Gavaskar). First Collingwood complains that names in the subcontinent are difficult to pronounce and gives Jayasuriya as an example (pronounces it जेसूरिया or something, and then complains how easily the subcontinenters roll it off their tongues).
Then, Collingwood asks Gavaskar teach him to pronounce his own name, and the latter obliges with "सà¥à¤¨à¥€à¤² गावसà¥à¤•à¤°"; fifteen minutes after the lesson, Collingwood is back to his true form, pronouncing the first syllable in Gavaskar's first name as "Sun" and the latter syllable as "Nill", ends up with सनà¥à¤¨à¤¿à¤² गवसà¥à¤–ार. Kind of makes sense, when you realize how folks in India spell the words (as they are pronounced) - for example, "lekar" is pronounced by Indians just like a Westerner would pronounce "Laker" (which is what I was wondering driving to work this morning, and listening to <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=i1rAsrjAeU0" title="lekar ham divana dil ...">this song</a>).
And though Gavaskar, for his part, tries hard (example ठेन for "ten"), he cannot maintain it through thick (थिकà¥à¤–) and thin (थिन)!
In response to my complaints that Katya is not picking up our mothertongue, Kannada, and talks in English all the time, Mrs. Porcupyn tried to start off with lesson 0.1:
Mrs. P: Katya, what does 'ooru' mean?
Katya (brightly): One hundred.
Mrs. P: No Katya, 'nooru' means one hundred, What does 'ooru' mean?
At this point, I decided to step in and bat for my <a href="http://porcupyn.wordpress.com/2010/12/13/tales-of-katya-katya-appas-defence-attorney/">attorney</a>. Invoking the spirit of <a href="http://www.cs.colostate.edu/~malaiya/kalidas.html">Kalidasa </a>(in the manner he beat his wife in debating), I explained: Just like 'eeruLLi' and 'neeruLLi' mean the same (onions) in Kannada, similarly, Katya must have determined that 'ooru' and 'nooru' are the same. ;-)
So, we come home from school (daycare, to be precise). As is her wont, Katya had her requests lined up:
"Appa, may I watch TV?"
Appa (how can I let your mind starve for the whole day without your TV, my child?): "Sure"
"Appa, may I have a brownie?"
Appa (how can I let your stomach starve in the evening, my child?): "Su ... Oh, waitaminute! Finish the 2/2 waffle from this morning that you did (could) not finish before you had to rush to school!"
Katya (five minutes later): "Appa, I am done. Now may I have the brownie?"
Appa (good job - you've finished your breakfast, my child!): "OK ... Ooooh, waitaminute!" (memories of uneaten lunches past come flooding to the father, who has to listen to a daily tantrum that child throws at mother in defence of those uneaten lunches) "Did you finish your lunch?"
Katya: "Ummmm ... No."
Appa (glad at having staved off tantrum of the day): "Eat that first then!"
She's finished her breakfast (finally); now I am now waiting for her to finish her lunch, so I can approve the snack (brownie).
Note: The above sequence of events would've been impossible without the catalyst in the background (the TV, of course).
Update: She is only halfway through lunch ... and has quit for the time being. :-(
Normal sibling rivalry - nothing new to this dad, who in his own heyday, had a healthy rivalry going with his sister too - resulted in Baab barricading himself in his room. After letting him fester in his room for a few minutes, Katya could not stand it any longer; she fired up this missive and slid it under Baab's room's door.
<a href="http://porcupyn.files.wordpress.com/2011/07/siblings11.jpg"><img class="aligncenter size-medium wp-image-1537" title="katya to baab - 1" src="http://porcupyn.files.wordpress.com/2011/07/siblings11.jpg?w=217" alt="" width="217" height="300" /></a>
As is typical elder brother behavior, the result was an emphatic - all-caps - NO! Undeterred, Katya wrote another entreaty around the <em><strong>NO</strong></em>. Brother could not help relenting. Kids are back to normal "best" behavior now!
<a href="http://porcupyn.files.wordpress.com/2011/07/siblings21.jpg"><img class="aligncenter size-medium wp-image-1538" title="katya to baab - 2" src="http://porcupyn.files.wordpress.com/2011/07/siblings21.jpg?w=217" alt="" width="217" height="300" /></a>
Who won?!! :-(
[caption id="attachment_1525" align="aligncenter" width="300" caption="A picture is worth a thousand stats!"]<a href="http://porcupyn.files.wordpress.com/2011/06/who_won.jpg"><img class="size-medium wp-image-1525" title="who_won" src="http://porcupyn.files.wordpress.com/2011/06/who_won.jpg?w=300" alt="" width="300" height="200" /></a>[/caption]
I was reading an article the other day about how IBM was mining player statistics to come up with their <a href="http://www-03.ibm.com/press/uk/en/pressrelease/34864.wss">keys to a match-winning performance</a>. It does not appear to work all the time. Check out this picture.
[caption id="attachment_1519" align="aligncenter" width="300" caption="IBM Stats - Fail!"]<a href="http://porcupyn.files.wordpress.com/2011/06/ova_battle.jpg"><img class="size-medium wp-image-1519" title="ova_battle" src="http://porcupyn.files.wordpress.com/2011/06/ova_battle.jpg?w=300" alt="Kvitova vs. Pironkova" width="300" height="200" /></a>[/caption]
Focus on these keys to the match for Kvitova:
- win fewer than 3% of points at net
Here is where blindly following some weird lifelong stats for a player and dumping it into their Wimbledon coverage gets IBM in trouble. Think for a minute, why would you want to intentionally win fewer of your points at the net? Makes sense if you are a baseliner, makes sense if you are on clay or hard courts, but if you are on grass, surely this stat should be out the window!
- win fewer than 8% of points won with a winner
But wait, now it gets more harebrained. Winning fewer than 8% of points with a winner? Maybe she is historically the Rahul Dravid* of Tennis, i.e., merely sits and waits for her opponent to commit a mistake. Even then, fewer than 8% of points with winners? Sounds unreal any day! However, again, this is Wimbledon, where one can hit winners much more easily than at, say, the French Open where, for instance, the ball will tend to sit up on drop shots.
* = this is not meant to insult or slight Rahul Dravid, who is the Indian cricket team's rock of Gibralter!
Or, should I say, <a href="http://www.google.com/url?sa=t&source=web&cd=2&ved=0CCUQFjAB&url=http%3A%2F%2Fwww.dailymail.co.uk%2Fnews%2Farticle-2004479%2FStressed-commuter-goes-nuts-told-voice-down.html&ei=VrMATtPiJcuctwe29YzHCQ&usg=AFQjCNEemg9p3jwwAjpqjEMrGsFLmkVJJg" title="Do you know how well educated I am?">what has education got to do with it</a>?
<blockquote><em>A minute later, there was an announcement asking all passengers to please not use profanity on the train, 'especially those people who went to Harvard or Yale or are from Westport.'</em></blockquote>
The great Saint Kabir once wrote (or said, I don't know which, as I was not around back then):
<blockquote>जात न पूछो साध का,
पूछ लीजिये गà¥à¤¯à¤¾à¤¨à¥¤
मोल करो तलवार का,
पड़ा रहन दो मà¥à¤¯à¤¾à¤¨à¥¤à¥¤</blockquote>
<em>Quick meaning:</em> Appearances can be deceptive!
<em>Long form of meaning:</em> Don't ask a sadhu/saint/hermit what his antecedents are, i.e., who his parents are, what his caste is, what his lineage/pedigree is; rather, sound him out for the knowledge that he possesses (and seek some for yourself as well). Just as when/if you were in the market for a sword, you ought to check out its worth/attributes (sharpness, length, warranty, etc ;-) rather than that of its scabbard.
However, when Kabir refers to knowledge, I doubt very much that he is talking about how well educated the sadhu is (or you are)! Actions always speak the loudest. Don't forget what Rahim has said:
<blockquote>बड़े बड़ाई ना करें
बड़े न बोलें बोल।
रहिमन हीरा कब कहा
लाख टका मेरा मोल।।</blockquote>
Those who are classy (classier) do not flaunt their classiness, just like (Rahim points out that) the diamond never touts that it is worth a hundred thousand Takas/Rupees/Dollars/Shekels/Yuans/Yens/Drachmas!
During my school years, I had a chapter in my English book titled "Reminiscences" - it was the first time I had heard the word, and I have been wanting to use the word as a blog post title. Now I have figured out the perfect platform on which to launch the word! :-)
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This recollection/episode is from the late 1970s and early 1980s. We were friends with the Shetty family in HEC Ranchi. Shetty uncle had visited many countries abroad, and had many interesting items in his household collection (which, in retrospect, might not be as unique to some of you as they were to me, a kid growing up in the 20th century India back then): a photo viewer with photos of places behind the Iron Curtain, a great collection of the Reader's Digest, Rubik's Cube, an record player, etc.
Every Sunday, my father and I would go to the weekly vegetable market that was a stone's throw from the Shetty's residence. On the way back, invariably, we would stop by the Shetty's house where I would pick up a book or two (more often than not, it would be a Reader's Digest), and return those that I had borrowed during our previous visit. Yes, I was using Shetty uncle's collection as a veritable lending library. I would read the articles with interest, making it a point to copy entire articles that I liked - for instance, the excerpts from the book "I am John's Body" (published as <a href="http://www.amazon.com/Am-Joes-Body-J-Ratcliff/dp/042507689X">I am Joe's Body</a>). Yes, I had pipe dreams of becoming a surgeon myself :-). On some of these visits, I would try to solve the Rubik's Cube*.
But the main attraction was the LP record player. An ardent listener of songs over the radio - and such programs as Ameen Sayani's Binaca Geetmala - my father would discuss different singers and their favourite songs with Shetty uncle. One day, it so happened that I had a desire to learn the lyrics of a hit song of yesteryear - neither my father nor Shetty uncle knew the lyrics (they were more interested in listening than trying to sing the song themselves, but I wanted to sing the song as well, not just listen to it). So, when I asked him to note down the lyrics for me, he had to do it the most painstaking way. Play a fragment of the song, stop the player, move the stylus back and re-start the player (OK, it has been quite a while since I last used an LP player, so I might be misrepresenting the exact sequence).
The song was आà¤à¤¸à¥‚ à¤à¤°à¥€ हैं ये जीवन की राहें| <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hyK-ZNZ7T-E">Here </a>it is (<a href="http://thaxi.hsc.usc.edu/rmim/giitaayan/cisb/34.isb">lyrics</a>)!
Thanks to the wonder that is the internet, I got back in touch with Shetty uncle's son (who was a toddler when I used to visit their residence) and - during my latest visit to India - managed to talk with Shetty uncle as well. At that time, I had not remembered this incident of how I got him to write the lyrics of the song for me - and given that my parents barely remember the Shettys, let alone all these details that I have noted - I don't know whether Shetty uncle remembers it either.
* - No, I have never succeeded with Rubik's Cube, even after Shetty uncle wrote me the keys to solve it (I have only gotten as far as one face and two layers).
