UMM ALI

Yesterday, I had someones tits for lunch. Ah! This statement has just the right amount of shock value, well, enough at least to grab your attention. Now, before my disgusted audience sets their imagination in motion and visualises me chomping on a pair of goat teats or something equally gross, (and some may have thought of even worse) I should hasten along with my narrative.
So, yesterday I made my acquaintance with ‘Umm Ali’ (literally ‘Mother of Ali’), an Arabic gastronomical delicacy, which tastes quite a lot like the ‘Shahi Tukda’ that we get in Mominpura in Pune, especially during Ramzan. In essence, it is sweet bread with sweet milk and raisins. Now the name ‘Umm Ali’ sounded innocuous but interesting so I asked how this dish got its name. Like so many things in Arabia, the history of this dish too is violent and brutal.
Long ago in Egypt, there was a queen called Shajraht Al Durr. She fell in love with and married one of her army generals called Eszz El Din Aibak, and then promptly fell out of love with him. The story goes that she killed him (or got him killed). This angered EED Aibak’s first wife; a commoner named Umm Ali. To avenge he husband, she fought with the queen, killed her, cut off her tits and ate them with bread and milk. That, ladies and gentlemen is the history of this sweet-dish. This is not apocryphal but authentic recorded history.
The passing centuries have altered the nature of the dish somewhat. Thankfully, the queens’ tits have been replaced with raisins and the result is quite tasty.

YES, THAT'S FOR YOU, VIKRANT

About my blog he has good things to say
But he should start his blog too, someday
For though he says that I write well
If he starts blogging, people will tell
That not many can match his skill
Once he starts wielding his mighty quill.

Though his quill is sharp and slick
It’s ultimately his mind that does the trick
Now, I know good thinkers who can’t write to save their lives
And I know verbose dimwits
But rarely does one find someone who is not only a gifted thinker
But is also happy to share his thoughts in the most delightful prose.

THE ANONYMOUS CRICKETER

Today, for no particularly compelling reason, I will write on my favourite Cricketers. I’ve spent a large chunk of my life within 22 yards of turf doing peculiar things with a piece of leather and a stick of English wood. These activities, repeated over a number of years have afforded me an insiders view into the wonderfully whimsical world of sub-continental Cricket. Also, I have been fortunate enough to play Cricket at an elite and highly competitive level and am thus in a position to write about some very interesting Cricketers. But today’s post is not about the bug guns I have played with (and for those doubting Tommie, I have played with a few). In fact, this post is dedicated to the many talented Cricketers whom I have been fortunate enough to play with and of who’s exploits I still maintain very fond recollections, but who are largely unknown to the masses. Because I have played most of my Cricket in and around Pune, most of the names mentioned below are from this belt. I know there are many other talented Cricketers but these are the ones on whom I can write with some authority. So eschewing this urge to ramble on I’ll jump straight into it.
Batsmen
Dheeraj Jadhav: DJ used to play at Chembur Gymkhana in Mumbai and that’s where I first saw him bat. I remember thinking of him as a good ‘attacking’ opening batsman. If anyone has seen DJ bat in the recent past, then he/she will agree that DJ is compact but slow. He takes his time to score and is in no hurry. Sir Neville Cardus, the prince of Cricket prose might have compared DJ’s scoring rate to that of growing grass. However, in 1994 (at Chembur), he was an attacking batsman. I think a couple of things changed him. Firstly, his father passed away and he moved to Pune. Secondly, after a couple of years away from Cricket, he resumed playing under the wise eyes of that batting wizard, Milind Gunjal. The next thing I know, Dheeraj was playing for Club of Maharashtra in the club leagues in Pune. It is there that he acquired his reputation as a slowcoach. He has scored runs by the tons and the long and short of it is that he is now in the reckoning for a place in the national squad. What do I like about him as a batsman? Certainly he is no Afridi or Sehwag, but he does possess the left-handers grace. Again, as a connoisseur, what excite me are not the big hits but the technique and I think DJ has one of the soundest techniques going around. Also, the way he leaves the ball is a delight to watch. Even the way he leaves a bouncer...a lot of people duck under a bouncer but not only does Dheeraj duck under the ball, he also continues watching it till it thuds into the keepers mitts. That’s a very comforting sign and a mark of class.
Kaushik Aphale: The first time I remember watching KA bat was in the under – 16’s at Delhi, and to be honest, I thought him a good batsman but not a great one. However, when I moved base to Pune, I saw him more and more and his batting grew on me. A languid style and easy grace are his characteristics, not only in batting but in fielding as well. He has ample of time to play the ball. Technically sound but also an attacking batsman. Unfortunately, he does not put as much price on his wicket as Dheeraj does. Dheeraj will bat the whole day and return with a well compiled but largely unexciting 125 n.o. But Kaushik will go out and return by lunch after a hurricane 70. That’s the difference. However, I mustn’t mislead my audience into thinking that Kaushik is all hammer and tongs. In fact, he is an artist, sublime...almost poetic. Rarely will one see him hit a shot in anger, yet most balls he hits fairly scorch the turf before resurfacing beyond the ropes.
KA is currently playing for the Maharashtra Ranji squad. His performance differs season to season. If the season starts well for him, he will continue in that vein, but if he has a shaky start, the poor form will in all probability stay with him through most of the season. That’s the way he is, if the opposition allow him to settle, he is as dangerous as anyone playing the game, but he is a little susceptible early on.
Nikhil Pande: Not only is NP one of my close friends, he is also a batsman I greatly admire and enjoy watching. We’ve played together at PYC in Pune for a number of years and time has not diminished the sheer joy I feel when I watch him play a good knock. And I have watched him play a few batting at the other end, for we have shared some good partnerships over the years.
NP is an attacking batsman but the one thing I can think about him is his persistent ill luck. Nothing else can explain his absence from the Maharashtra Ranji squad. His performance in the domestic leagues over the last 2-3 seasons has been spectacular and many ‘not as worthy’ souls have donned the Maharashtra cap in these seasons. However, NP is a fighter and I expect him to break into the squad soon.
Pankaj Phalke: A name that will undoubtedly raise a few brows. But in my book, PP is one of the most talented batsmen around. I am not sure if he is still playing Cricket actively. He used to play for Aurangabad and my first encounter with him was in a district level U-19 match. I was bowling with the new ball and had already taken two wickets, so my tail was up. The first ball I bowled to him was a short, quick one slightly outside the off stump in the hope that he would poke at it and edge it, much like the earlier batsmen. What followed however, was a square cut of the finest quality. The fielders did not move as the ball raced beyond the ropes. I remember thinking that this guy in good. In times to come, he proved to be even better than expected. A quick eye and nimble feet meant that he could, on his day, make the best attack look pedestrian. However, his temperament lets him down. His inningss' would be a joy to behold, but they would be disappointingly short lived.
Anyhow, that’s it on the batsmen for now. More on the bowlers in another post.

DXB

After the rather shocking realisation that yesterday I completed two years in Dubai (actually Sharjah, but if I write about Sharjah, I’ll struggle to go beyond one word...dull...and Dubai and Sharjah are twin cities anyway), I decided that two years was enough time to get a ‘feel’ of any place and hence this post on Dubai.
How does one begin to describe a city that is many things to many people? In fact, it is many different cities in one. Over the past few years, Dubai has experienced unprecedented growth, a surge that is almost scary in that many people question whether it is sustainable on not. Doomsday soothsayers abound and have made confident pronouncements on how the Dubai economy is going to bottom out and stay there. These soothsayers were there many years ago when Dubai started its extraordinary and ambitious development plans and I have no doubt they will be around many years on, but till date, Dubai has shown no signs of slowing up.
Old timers in Dubai will tell you astonishing tales about Dubai of 20-30 years ago. They will describe Dubai as a semi-urban town with only one high-rise building and plenty of desert. They will talk about the old souqs (markets), the easy lifestyle, the city with culture, of rustic kinship, of a time when a day spent fishing on ones ramshackle trawler would be considered a day well spent, of a time when date farms and camels were as much a part of life as the ubiquitous car is today. With a twinkle in their eyes, they will recite tales of trade with the Indian sub-continent, of how the Indian rupee was the legal currency here till well into the 70’s (UAE came into existence in 1971). That era though is sadly past. Dubai today is a busy and buzzing metropolis with a population nudging 2 million and expected to grow to 6 million in the next 5 years...a staggering growth by any standard.
I remember thinking on reaching Dubai two years ago that the place looked awfully rich. I mean, anyone who has traipsed through the airport will tell you that. My first drive through Dubai left me impressed as well. Lovely roads, great traffic discipline (this impression changed pretty soon though), absolutely beautiful flower arrangement on the pavements (this has remained) and fellow Indians everywhere (mostly Kerelites, though that too is changing now). I remember, on my first night out, sitting next to the creek, taking lazy drags of a sheesha (Arabic hooka) and my friend telling me that Dubai is a soulless and culture-less city and I wondered at that statement. To my inexperienced eyes, the place was literally dripping of Arabia. Arabic food all around, people walking in traditional Arab dress, Arabic spoken everywhere...and I thought, this place has character and the character is more Ibn Batuta than Captain Cook.

Heart of the matter

It all started last week. The exact circumstances I don’t remember now but that is not so important. What was important was the dull ache in my left hand, radiating from my armpit to the wrist, culminating in a tingling sensation at the tip of my fingers. Now my close family and friends will know that I am a fit sort of guy. I’ve hardly needed to go to hospitals unless it is to visit an ailing relative or friend. My own sojourns have been few and far between but memorable eventful (the topic of another post)...but I am digressing.
Ya, so as I was saying, I have generally been in good health and if we talk of stress, I don’t think I am any more stressed than the average overworked, underpaid bloke or sheila. So this pain came as a surprise (understatement there). Trying to find any innocuous reason for the pain, I finally attributed it to incorrect sleeping posture. But a troubling though was, ‘why only the left hand’? I have been told that I assume the most grotesque yogic postures in my sleep. This has always puzzled me because I can’t seem to do even the more elementary ones when awake, but I ramble again. So as I was saying, an incorrect doze-pose should have manifested in at least some discomfort on the right side, but my right side was clearly not obliging. Anyway, I checked my pulse, which seemed all right, so I chose to ignore the pain. However, when I got this pain a second time yesterday, I decided that the doctors would get the pleasure of my company, and right speedily at that.
So this morning found me at Zulekha Hospital in Sharjah, with my insurance card in my sweaty hand and intense neural activity in my otherwise slothful brain. A pretty nurse ushered me through to Dr. Sharmila Changkakoti and we got cracking. Dr. Changkakoti is the Neurology whiz at Zulekha and I took an immediate shine to her. I mean, how can you not like a person with a name like that. A series of quick examinations and a couple of X-rays later, I was informed by Dr. Changkakoti that I was as fit as a fiddle and that I should stop worrying about this pain. It probably was due to faulty sleeping positions and only my left side hurt because that is my dominant side (I am a lefty).
Well, it was a relief to know that my heart was thudding along as mother nature intended it to, so I thanked her and left. Now that I’m home, I can leisurely go through the doctors’ report.
Hmmmm, the X-rays look all right but how anyone can tell anything using these X-rays beats me. They look like misty ghost images, blurred and faded. Do I need a second opinion??