The Loss!

It has been a month.....
 and I have been struggling to scribble it down somewhere.

Words were playing hide and seek for quite sometime!

It has been drizzling outside,
 and a couple of drops fell on my lap.

That missed call on the mobile,
 at 8.45pm..... on May 15th had ceased haunting me.

Less than a week ago we were chatting away....
 ...over a couple of drinks, travel plans.... silence.... travel plans....
 
....and I sit alone, making the travel plans, tonight....

There never was an unsmiling face, there never was a foe.....
  just that friendship, unconditional and true
  and that disarming smile, accompanying the rare arguments!

Those eyes had retained a glint,
  even as the body lay motionless and still,
  possibly the parting smile!

The smell of death hung around,
 ....and those blood stains on the floor...
   ....but I had to will myself on!

Even as the drive to the heavenly abode commenced,
 that one last connect, back to earth..... at 8.45pm....

....and the one regret....
    .....that I am destined to live the rest of my life with.

RIP Sunil Kumar Sir,

Will be missing you terribly, though.

Retired Not Out!!

In the days of the ipl mayhem and instant stardom, let's pause to remember that it was on this day in 1983; that one man attended the call of national duty, overcoming his inner conflicts, to carry his bat from an overnight score of 7 to finish the day, unbeaten, at 154 and left the ground to fly home, not to return the next day and had his name etched in history as the only batsman to have "retired not out"!!

It was an incredible life lesson, Sir.
Thank you very much :)

The Return of Sándor Kocsis!

Sándor Kocsis made an unexpected return to memory on a cold Friday evening this past fortnight; dragging it back by a couple of decades- to the eventful school days, to be precise. The name may not ring a bell even in the minds of diehard soccer aficionados of the day. Yet for one full fortnight 22 years ago, it had remained the most sought after for a gang of restless, information hungry school boys. Diego Maradona and the God were taking Mexico by storm. The reverberations of the Mexican wave they had triggered crossed the oceans and continents reaching even the remotest corners of the world. No wonder then that it had taken in the gang of star struck, soccer crazy kids just stepping into their teens.

They rarely got to watch a movie in a theater, never went to see soccer in the stadium nor did they get to see the live cricket action on TV. Yet they churned out screenplays by the dozen, of the movies they had never seen, gave ball by ball account of the cricket matches they had not been to, or eulogized the heroes in the wars they hadn’t witnessed; almost as if they were right at the hot seat seeing all the action by themselves. They impeccably recreated, through words and gestures, the sublime poetry of a “Rolls Royce” on his long rhythmic run to the wicket, or the supreme artistry in the execution of a Vishy square cut, or the meandering runs of a “Little Bird”, full of feints and shimmies leaving the best defenders infuriated or the “filthy” one-handed backhand from the magic wand of that “rebel with a cause” and of course his tantrums, each of which introduced the awe-struck audience to the art of genius in the field of action. As their imagination took wings, weaving the fascinating web of facts, fiction and fairy tales, the stars from different eras crossed swords, years before computer simulation actually allowed some of it, without people even noticing it. They were not liars, but great imaginers, adept at the art of weaving the web of tales, master story tellers and unfailing performers never short of an apt word or a suitable gesture at capturing the real thrill of the moment.

They had invented games too, to kill time at free hours. It was during one such game that Sándor Kocsis first descended in their midst. The word game they used to play around that WC season in ’86 required the contestants to give the name of a sportsperson starting with the first letter in the second name of the previously named star. When some one spelt out Slobodan Zivojinovic, a hush prevailed for a brief while. And then one of the contestants came up with the name Zandor Koksis. “Liar, liar” up went the alert crowd, very much aware of the gang’s ability to pluck names out of thin air. “There never was a sports man by that name”; the protests were vociferous and the pleas that there was a Hungarian soccer star by that name fell on deaf ears and was shouted down, al beit with a demand for evidence and a bet without the bookies.

Internet was not heard of, Google was not even an idea, yet they took it as a challenge and spent a whole day in the public library scrolling through the dusty back volumes of Sport Star and came up with the issue containing the mention of soccer star Sándor Kocsis. They had to give up their claim and lost a couple of sharpeners, yet they were greatly pleased to discover that he was no ordinary soccer player but a legend who had won the golden boot in ’54, scoring 11 goals, and the first player to score two hat tricks in a World Cup. He was the lesser known of the potent duo that formed the lethal striking force of the Mighty Magyars, arguably the most brilliant international team in soccer history.

Gradually he faded from memory, not figuring in any further stories, due part in the lack of awareness among the audience and part in the difficulty in pronouncing the name. He never came back, even in the innumerable quizzes or the discussions on greatness around soccer seasons, dominated by Pele, Pushkas, di Stefano, or Maradona. Nor did the name come up during the poignant moments of describing tragic heroes dominated by the Busby babes and Duncan Edwards¹, Garrincha² or George Best³. He was never praised alongside the prolific scorers like Pele, Mueller, Fontaine and Rolando. He was missing among the stars of yesteryears being felicitated at the subsequent editions of the world cup. He had vanished altogether from our soccer discussions which used to peak around WCs or the Euros.

Then suddenly, one day this past fortnight, he made a dramatic comeback through an article on the web, reviving fond memories of those old school day discussions. I turned curious and clicked away on the information, now available at my finger tips and discovered nearly 23 years from the game session during that unengaged Social Science period at school that Sándor Kocsis was indeed no ordinary soccer player, but a legend, in fact, statistically speaking, the most prolific striker the world has ever seen in the international game. He had scored 75 goals in 68 matches for Hungary at a phenomenal 1.103 goal/game, ahead of Gerd Mueller, the only other player with a goal a game average among players with a long international career. His partner and Captain Ferenc Puskás had kicked in 3^rd in the list with 84 goals in 85 matches. He was also the most successful match winner among the international game’s greatest goal scorers, with an astounding 84.5% of his goals coming in winning causes, more than 4% clear off Pushkas, Pele, Ronaldo and Mueller. His record 2.2 goal/game in a single World Cup finals competition is still standing. Kocsis was also one of the earliest defectors from the communist block to the Western Europe when he moved to Spain where he represented FC Barcelona and he also finds mention in a poll ranking the greatest Barca players in history along side Cryuff, Ronaldinho, Maradona and Messi, in spite of having played for them way back in the 60’s. On his retirement as a player in 1966, he continued with the club as its coach. But his return to memory was through one list that we had missed out. The article was found on the sidelines on the report on a galaxy of German stars looking on as the coffin of colleague Robert Enke was being lowered to be near his two year old daughter’s. Those dusty back volumes in the Public Library didn’t tell us more than 2 decades ago that Sándor Kocsis also headed the list of soccer stars who had taken their own lives. His life and career had come to a standstill when he was diagnosed with leukemia and even as he was undergoing treatment, he was found to suffer from stomach cancer. And it was through the fourth floor window of the hospital in Barcelona where he was undergoing treatment that the Magnificent Magyar had disappeared on July 22 1979, aged 49.

Soccer, unlike Cricket, is not a statistician’s game. Sándor Kocsis, it is said, was a magnificent finisher, very strong, great at positioning and most of all brilliant in battles on air. Even as another WC season triggers debates, discussions and speculations; there is, it appears, no current soccer player who is anywhere near the Golden Head’s Bradmanesque strike rate. And on those terms, Sándor Peter Kocsis will continue to remain the greatest striker in the international game’s history for a long time to come.

1. “What time is the kick off against Wolves, Jimmy? I mustn't miss that match”

2. “who lived in the woods had bent legs who was totally unmarkable and who could dribble like the devil”

3. “Don't die like me”

Com. E. K. Nayanar

The Smiles From My Shelf [4]

It has been ages since I had posted something on one of my favorite topics.

Was it that I didn’t want to? I’m not sure!!

But today I was reminded about it by a most unlikely source. As I was scrolling through the online news papers today, I had come across a report on the investigation to the conspiracy by certain communal elements to assassinate the former Kerala Chief Minister E K Nayanar. The politics in Kerala has been witnessing a rapid transformation in the run up to the present general elections, leaving the man on the street confused as well as saddened by the turn of events. Money, muscle power and rabid communal elements have virtually taken over the centre stage like never before. It is under such circumstances that a man of the masses like Com. Nayanar is really missed.

Com. E. K., as we used to refer to him, was no run of the mill polititian. He was a gentle and genial leader who had touched the people's hearts irrespective of their political affiliations. There were no short cuts for him in politics, he had worked 'underground' in almost all regions of the state and knew every village "like the back of my hand". Throughout his life he was on the side of the ordinary and the downtrodden people and earned their uninhibited affection and respects. I still remember the sea of humanity that had beseiged the AKG Centre, braving the incessant monsoon showers to have a last glimpse of his body and pay him their last respects.

Com. E. K. lived a modest life. He was the CM, next door who could easily connect with the man in the street. A brilliant speaker with a penchant for putting things in a hilarious way, he had often sent his audience into roars of laughter. The comrades as well as political opponents liked to listen to him. He showed an effortless irreverence to things formal and was never a strict adherent to protocols. But behind all these was the master politician with guileless persuasive skills, who was chosen to lead an experimental coalition and went on to become the state's longest serving Chief Minister. There was no disputing his ideological commitments but he had also possessed the pragmatism that was essential in running coalition governments. He could easily tranform himself from an old-fashioned organizer to an able administrator. Some of the state's best known developmental and welfare initiatives were launched under his leadership. The successful efforts to strengthen the public distribution system, to boost the agricultural production, the decentralization of power through the district council experiments and the path breaking mass campaigns that made Kerala a fully literate state were all carried out with him at the helm. The radical experiment at democratic decentralization, the People's Plan Campaign was launched during his last stint as Chief Minister. If some of those experiments might have run into rough weather let's blame it on the scourge of corruption that had crept into the very grass roots and not the men who took the noble initiative.

I have one fond recollection of a close encounter with that man of the masses. It was the early 1990's and I was in my second year in college. A student agitation was on against the policies of the then government in the education sector. The state leaders of the left leaning student organizations were on indefinite hunger strike in front of the government secretariat in Thiruvananthapuram. Engineering college students had joined them in an adjacent 'pandal' and I was put on duty there to attend to the fasting comrades. Our days used to start quietly with a reading and analysis of the morning news papers. But as the day wore on, the road in front of secretariat was filled with demonstrators expressing solidarity with the fasting students. There were frequent skirmishes too which would turn the road into a virtual battleground between the agitating students and the policemen led by a certain Rishi Raj Singh, who had always preferred to lead from the front. After sunset we had the torchlight demostrations, often daring the onlooking policemen to come and hit us. The strike was dragging on for longer than expected and one by one the striking comrades were being arrested and removed to hospitals. Prominent politicians from the opposition used to visit us. One afternoon, there was a sudden spurt of movement of people in and around our 'pandal' and some of those sitting inside quickly rushed out. Before I could sense what was going on I saw right in front of me, the familiar figure of Com. E. K, spotting the customary smile. He gestured to my fasting comrade Sunil C. P. not to get up from his bed even as he entered the 'pandal'. And as I stood motionless and confused, the legendary communist leader put his left hand on my shoulder and smiled at me. He told me in his no-nonsense way that he did not think that the government will reverse its policies. But he assured us that "we will fight this battle together". I did not know what to say and merely returned the smile.

In these days of violent and acrimonious political battles, the people of Kerala might be missing the healing presence of a charismatic personality like Com. E. K. and his sense of humour while handling the most vivacious of political debates. And I personally miss the beaming and innocent smile of that man of the masses.

Saluting a Genius

"All my life, I've had a choice of hate and love, I chose love, and I'm here".

And that speaks volumes of the man.

Hearty Congratulations ARR, you never stop making us proud :-)

Hope the young people may learn a thing or two from your life.

Prof. Randy Pausch is no more

"But rest assured; I'm hardly unique. Send your kids to Carnegie Mellon and the other professors here will teach them valuable life lessons long after I'm gone."

Death spares none. The rich or the poor, the good, bad or the ugly, the prince or the pauper, all should leave on their appointed date.

And yes, no luggage is permitted.

Prof. Randy Pausch has passed unto the unknown. What if "Moses won’t get to set foot in the promised land" ? His legacy will live on through his innumerable students who had attended his 'Last Lecture'.

Good Bye, Sir.
Hope to meet you one day :-)

Another Teacher Goes Down.....

to the fanatics.....

The gods must be happy now, along with their keepers on earth!

Heart felt Condolences......