A Royal Wedding Despite Camilla Parker-Bowles.

On the 29^th of April, 2011, a simple, everyday girl got married to a Prince. It would have been a perfect modern day fairytale were it not for the fact that this Prince Charming was a bit bald and his dad was married to Camilla Parker Bowles.

I speak of the marriage between Prince William and Kate Middleton or as we Indians like to call her Kate Half-Century. A love story that started in college, ten years ago and ended with a million girls all over the world, staring tearfully at a TV screen and going, “Awww...”, at the same time. And they had good reason too. The wedding, like the love story, was possibly the most elaborate romantic event in history. After Dilwale Dulhaniya Le Jayenge, of course.

Dubbed ‘The Royal Wedding’ by the ever helpful media who dutifully updated people about every royal preparation of every royal day until it got royally annoying.  A lot of money (A little more than the GDP of Singapore) was put into ensuring that the wedding lived up to expectations. The guest list was extremely exclusive with only the absolute who’s who of the who’s who being invited. In fact, so who’s who were these who’s who’s that even the royal family didn’t know who some of them were (Answer: They were David and Victoria Beckham). 

From very early in the morning thousands of people thronged Westminster Abbey. These people were incorrectly described as ‘well-wisher’s’ when they were more accurately ‘People-who-paid-taxes-which-funded-the-Royal-Wedding’. They were just there to see how their hard-earned money was being spent. I would have been curious too, if a make-believe monarchy was having a really smashing wedding at my expense.

The bride was dressed in an intricate and most beautiful wedding dress that was, contrary to strong rumours, not designed by Manish Malhotra. It was so blindingly white that it made up for the sun on what was a depressingly cloudy day and people were astonished at how long and trailing the end of her gown was. It was later revealed that her designer (not Manish Malhotra) had stitched a large part of Antarctica on it. Prince William, of course, was dressed exquisitely too, in a red uniform that made him look like a security guard. Camilla Parker-Bowles looked stunning as well in her Frankenstein costume.

The wedding ceremony was an extremely long affair because it took a lot of time to get the bride and bridegroom to the altar. Prince William and Kate, began their journey to the altar, fresh and early at around 11 in the morning and after what seemed like 7 days of travel they had only reached the middle of Westminster Abbey. In fact they were walking so slowly that there was really fear that they might miss the Mahurat. To be fair to them, it’s not easy walking fast when the bride has to drag half of Antarctica behind her.

Eventually the priest began the wedding rituals. Choir boys sang, the band played (God save the queen, Humpty Dumpty and Sheela ki Jawaani) and guests waited expectantly for someone to object. But no one objected and the Royal couple exchanged their wedding vows, Kate blushing like a red rose and Prince William still looking like a security guard. At the end of the ceremony and the signing of the registry, it dawned on the watching world that they had been witness to a moment of great historic significance: Yes, the moment when Kate Middleton realised her surname was now ‘Of Wales.’

After that the Royal Couple slowly,(2 hours 15 minutes) made their way to the balcony. The crowd went ballistic on seeing the new royal couple and they expressed their joy in the only way they could, by shouting ‘Kiss, Kiss’. And so, very awkwardly the Prince leaned in and smooched his Princess and the men clapped and applauded and women wept tears of joy. Never had two people been watched kissing on a balcony by 2 billion people, usually it’s just the one 15 year old, neighbor's boy, watching through binoculars.

All in all the wedding was exactly what it promised to be: A 30 year old man marrying his girlfriend of 10 years. So magical was this occasion that every single woman watching the wedding had only one thought going through her head, ‘Harry is still available’. Having to change your last name to 'Of Wales' is a small price to pay for a fairytale wedding.

Great Minds Think Alike. Ok, Almost Alike...

It's Hot But It's So Not Sexy.

You feel it all around you. It’s been here for a while now. The thing that prevents you from stepping out of the house between 9 a.m. and 8.pm., the same thing that makes you wish that you could roam around without any clothes on and the same thing that forces you to say, “Uff! ye Ghamori!”. That's right, the summer heat is here.

For a long time, more accurately known as: March, the heat has been creeping up on us, slowly but steadily, like a Sonu Nigam song climbing the charts. You could feel the weather changing as winter melted away, its biting chilliness replaced by what can only be described as, ‘a terrible urge to wear shorts and apply powder.’

As winter begins receding you notice that the sun starts lingering longer and longer in the sky, eventually when at the height of summer it sets at approximately 8 in the night. This is also when you start noticing that any clothes that are not made of cotton are made of the same technology as toasters.

Summer is the season when those old shields against the cruel sun are taken out and worn once more. I am talking of sun-glasses and sun screen lotions. Suddenly every third person on the road looks like a celebrity with their black tinted glares resting on their nose. And wearing sunglasses is not just about looking cool anymore, but about actual utility! You NEED the sunglasses to protect your eyes from the harmful ultraviolet rays and more importantly help you look exactly like Salman Khan from Dabangg.

Always remember to apply sufficient sun screen lotion before stepping out in the summer heat. It not only keeps out the harmful ultraviolet rays that try and attack your skin after failing to enter your eyes, but it also prevents that horrible uneven tanning that makes you look like a Zebra when you take off your shirt.

I don’t know about you, but for me the summer is characterized by sweat. Every season induces a particular bodily malfunction (Winter: Peeling and Dryness of skin, Monsoon: Drowning) and the quirk of the summer, is of all things, sweat! You step out of the house for 5 minutes and you end up soaking wet in the stuff. It’s exactly like having a bath except at the end of this one you smell worse than you did before.

This is also the time of year that pessimists use to point out that the end of the world is imminent due to the phenomenon of global warming. All of a sudden newspaper’s shriek headlines like, “MORE PROOF OF GLOBAL WARMING: HOTTEST SUMMER SINCE 1955”. In my opinion this is completely counteractive to the argument of global warming because in 1955 there was NO global warming and it was STILL this hot!

But even if Global Warming is as true a threat as it is made out to be(its ahead of Pakistan on some lists) it still won’t convince me to forgo my air conditioning  between the months of March and August. If getting to sleep in the cool comfort of an air conditioned room means permanently damaging the environment for my children then I guess I won’t have any children. In fact it is my policy to keep the temperature of the A/C so low that sometimes I wake up with Eskimo’s in my bed.

I make up for my excess Air-Conditioner consumption by giving up other appliances in the summer. Like for example, instead of the microwave I use an ancient technique of heating food called, ‘leaving the food in front of an open window.’(in fact this Open Window device also doubles up as a really good Hair Dryer)

And now the moment you've all been sweating for: I present to you my 5 tips to stay cool this summer:

1. Get a Haircut.
2. Drink lots of water. If possible, store some in a hump. 
3. Have frequent baths. Not the sweat kinds.
4. Wear shorts. Especially if you are a woman.
5. Avoid pink sunglasses. They are not cool.

In conclusion, whenever you feel bad for yourself over the heat, just remember to thank your stars that you aren't a sheep because its scorching hot and those poor things have a sweater on.

How to Fight Corruption Without Eating Food: An Anna Hazare Story.

Sometimes it takes only one man to bring about change. And sometimes that man is called Anna Hazare.

The man who has led one of the largest mass movements in recent years has the rare distinction of having a name which when read for the first time elicits the response, “Who is she?”

Our country and its systems have been plagued by corruption for decades and all this while we’ve been treating it exactly like we treat Tushhar Kapoor, something terrible that you know is there but you refuse to look at it hoping that it’ll go away on its own.

Everyone hated corruption but no one knew what to do about it, until Anna Hazare showed the way. He stated that the first step in the fight against corruption will be the implementation of the Jan Lokpal Bill (it literally means Citizens Ombudsman Bill, which literally means you have to look up Ombudsman in the dictionary) and so began one of the most extraordinary fusses ever made over a bill. Usually things like these are settled in 10 seconds by going dutch.

After getting no response from the government over the proposed bill, Anna Hazare began a fast on the 5^th of April at Jantar Mantar, Delhi, stating that he would call it off only when the government looked at the Bill or he dies, whichever comes first.

Anna Hazare knew that his movement would create a stir, what he didn’t know was that it would also bring the whole India together again just like they had been brought together in their disapproval of Sreesanth’s selection in the World Cup final. People connected with him and listened to what he had to say because of his simple message, his clean image and because the IPL had not started yet.

As he began his first day without food, people were humbled with the spectacle of a man who looked strikingly like their grandfather, sitting obstinately asking the government for much needed change. His message and his medium touched a chord and it started an avalanche of support. Twitter was abuzz with Anna Hazare tweets. In total 4.4 million tweets were made in the span of three days out of which the first 2 million were, “Who is she?”

The ‘India Against Corruption’ movement (Slogan: Whatcha Gonna Do When Anna Comes For You?) was generating a media presence not seen since Rakhi Sawant. It suddenly grew from an act of defiance to a full fledged revolt. All of a sudden people began liking Anna Hazare pages on facebook and status’s like, ‘AnNa V r WiD U’ were scribbled across a million virtual walls. This was a movement that a new generation was a part and promoter off. No one really knew what the Jan Lokpal Bill was all about, in fact in a poll taking regarding the bill, it was revealed that 72% people thought that 'Jan Lokpal' was where Sonia Gandhi stays. And no one really had the time to actually go out and do things like fasting but it seemed alright as long as they were actively tweeting about it.

The government waited patiently, hoping that at any moment Anna Hazare would throw away the protest and give in to a plate of samosa’s, but that was not to be and finally fearing to have the death of a 72 year old, who had suddenly become a nation’s hero, on their hands, the government conceded their position and decided to start the process to finalize the Bill. Anna Hazare broke his fast after 96 long hours and thus successfully showed the people of India that anything was possible as long as you knew how to blackmail the government well enough.

Seeing the success of the movement many millions got inspired by Hazare’s modus operandi. Suddenly people began threatening to fast for every small thing. There were student fasts against exams, there were fasts against protests without fasts, in fact, my mother began fasting against weight gain. It worked too.

The movement and its leader gave a young vapid but socially connected India a noble cause to uphold, one which was more meaningful than wanting to buy a BlackBerry. For a generation looking for something to define their era, Anna Hazare provided the perfect opportunity. And people were quick to hoist the Gandhi of their times on the walls of their Facebook pages and scribble his name in the many 140 character- sentences of a modern history. And am sure Anna Hazare will have a nation’s complete support whenever he chooses to fight for a cause next and hopefully it will be a movement against Tushar Kapoor. 

All You Ever Wanted To Know About Film Reviewing

Writing a film review is a tough job. It’s exactly like prostitution. Most of the time you’re paid for screwing things you don’t like and occasionally you’ll have a good time.

Usually people who end up reviewing films are people who’ve had childhoods that involved spoiling their eyes. They are the kids, who like all kids were immensely fascinated by the captivating images of the silver screen but unlike other kids, the film reviewers never really grew up to move on to other things, like getting a real job. So when these kids grew up they realised two very important things that would shape their future forever:

1.  They still liked watching films.
2.  Food costs money.

Out of the necessity of the above two realisations they hit upon the perfect career for themselves. They decided they’d sit around and cry at support group meetings. No, they decided to do something worse. They decided to turn their everyday life into a profession. So they began watching, discussing, and fornicating with films in the newspapers and managed to get paid for it too. This was because newspapers soon realised that it’s much easier to keep publishing film reviews than it is too actually go and find real news.

The art of film reviewing involves the ability to dissect a film analytically and objectively, without, and here’s the tricky part, letting the fact that Jackky Bhagnani is in it affect your thinking. That’s why it’s one of the toughest professions around, even tougher than being in the army, because in the army you don’t have to worry about seeing Jackky Bhagnani anytime soon.

Film reviewers also have to keep to a very tight schedule. They put in long hours of work that last for the entire length of Friday and Saturday. It’s a hectic job that entails sitting for screenings of films in what is called ‘Press Screenings’ which is a term meaning, an event to show critics the movie before its release and make a sleazy attempt to get them to right a positive review in the process.

Saturday is usually spent in quiet meditative repose, writing out the actual review of the film. This is a tricky task because it involves remembering the plot and filling half the review with it. It’s tricky because some film’s don’t have too much of a plot to begin with and it then becomes the job of the reviewer to analytically and objectively make something up. After recounting the story for the majority of the column, the reviewer has to carefully present his clinical assessment of the film. This involves writing vague, ambiguous statements using cinema jargons to express judgement of aspects of the film that nobody cares for. Example:

1. The fresh cinematography which creates rich vignettes of the many hues of the characters rivets the audience 
2. The sound mixing compliments the complexity of the narrative.
3. Ram Gopal Verma ki Aag. ‘Nuff said.

At this point the ideal film reviewer comments on the performance of the actors and describes in ‘Layman’ terms what he thought of the film.  This is also the part of the review that the Reviewer uses to exercise his dry and sarcastic sense of humour. He’ll use funny quips such as, “Vivek Oberoi looks out of place in the movie. His place being out of the movies.”, “The film is so bad that it makes sucking on a lemon seem like a sweet experience” and “The film stars Jackky Bhagnani.”

The film reviewer understands that his reader’s are about as intelligent as sea turtles and hence they  rate the film out of a maximum of five stars and put it right at the top of the review so that readers don’t get confused reading actual words to know what the reviewer thinks of a film.

People often think that all film reviews are bought and paid for. This notion, I can safely and surely say is absolutely wrong, the truth is that only SOME film reviews are bought and paid for, because no amount of money can get a reviewer to write a positive review for Ram Gopal Verma Ki Aag.

11 men, one Cup.

On 2^nd April history was made. Every Indian knows what am talking about, that’s right, this was the day President Obama declared as World Autism Day. No, am kidding of course. April 2^nd will be forever remembered as the day India finally won the world cup for the second time. It’s been a long time coming and we finally managed to beat the other 10 real contenders and win the coveted prize.

The world cup was won in extraordinary fashion. In fact, even the start was rather ominous with the toss having to be done twice because both Dhoni and the match referee didn’t hear whether Sangakkara had called Heads or Tails. This of course was good for Sangakkara because the coin didn’t land as per his original call which was, ‘Thorax’.

Sri Lanka batted first on a wicket that is so low scoring that even great batting sides manage to make an average of 260 runs even with Sreesanth bowling all 50 overs. Talking of Sreesanth, his dream came true. He finally got to play for Sri Lanka in a world cup final!

Sri Lanka began slowly, scoring at a pace that made the evolution of humankind look pretty fast in comparison. On the other hand India fielded surprisingly well. They were quick, agile and when they dived they didn’t jump over the ball as was standard practice a little while ago. Suresh Raina and Yuvraj Singh in particular did all their best to prevent as many runs as they could to make up for Sreesanth’s bowling.

However cometh the hour cometh the man and Mahela Jayawardena stepped up and scored a century. It was a wonderful innings under pressure that was totally unappreciated by one billion people. Eventually, Sri Lanka wound up making 274 runs which was respectable considering their incredibly slow start.

If the Sri Lankan start was bad then the start of the Indian innings was downright disastrous. Lasith Malinga got Sehwag LBWed right in the second ball of the innings. But to be fair Sehwag showed as much footwork as Abhishek Bacchchan does in an item number. But hope was only lost when Sachin got out for 18. With Sachin getting out India had not only lost a wicket but also lost an extra 82 runs.

But just then Gautam Gambhir and Virat ‘thebrat’ Kohli came good and put up a fine partnership that steadied the game, which is also read as doing with two men what Sachin would have done alone. When Kohli finally got out, Dhoni promoted himself up the order and came out to bat. Gambhir restraining his natural urge to get run out played a wonderful 97 before getting clean bowled. He will always be remembered as the man who led us to brink of victory but who didn’t win match of the match because he couldn’t complete his Hundred.

Dhoni played a captain’s knock in the match that mattered most. He lead from the front, with determination, motivated by the fear of what would happen to his friends and family if they lost. And then came that magic moment which will be remembered for years to come. With 5 runs needed to win the match Dhoni whacked the ball for a six and everyone started crying. To see a burly, chest-haired man like Yuvraj Singh crying was as odd as seeing Shahid Afridi’s large hearted praise of India. It just didn’t seem right.  

After the match Sachin was carried around the stadium by Yusuf Pathan, which was also his biggest contribution on the day of the final. In the post match interviews the standard answer to everything that was asked to the Indian Cricketers was, “We did it for Sachin.”

Q1. How does it feel to win the World Cup?

A: We did it for Sachin.

Q2.  What was the strategy to beat Sri Lanka?

A: We did it for Sachin.

Q3. Congratulations! We hear your child was born yesterday.

A: We did it for Sachin.

Much celebration ensued around the country. People got one more chance to get rid of those surplus Diwali firecrackers. The roads were filled with rejoicing fans. Slogans were yelled (De Ghuma Ke, Sachinnnnn-Sachinnnnnn and Revital, Jeeyo Jee Bhar Ke.) In fact for that one moment in time the country came as one, celebrating the fact that we won’t have to listen to anymore stories from Kapil Dev about what happened in 1983. With the majority of the country’s population below the age of thirty, this world cup will be the one that a nation will tell their kids about. And hopefully Sreesanth will be dropped from those re-tellings. 

Expert Advice Brought To You By Everybody.

We are a nation of one billion cricket experts. Turn on a match and everybody has a very vocal opinion about it. Some look at the game objectively, some provide a statistical view and some obviously raise grave cricketing issues like, “Why is the beer over?”

The criteria for being an Indian Cricketing expert are as follows:

1.     1. You must have sound cricketing knowledge. Knowing who Sachin Tendulkar is, will do.

2.       2. You must be able to articulate your thoughts in a concise manner. Articulate standing for Scream and concise meaning Loudly.

3.      3. You must know Sachin Tendulkar.

We’re a country that is very passionate about our cricket. Which is actually a clever excuse we’ve developed to basically act like preachy idiots when it comes to cricket.

When a match is being watched on the telly, it is common practice to pretend like we’re cricket coaches with 19 years of experience. We’ll be critising every shot that doesn’t go for a four. ‘Tcha! What an @#$%^! He should be playing the straight drive there.” And we’ll be staring at the screen with eyes bulging, shouting, “TWO! TWO! RUN TWO RUNS!” When we hardly know where the ball or the fielders are because the camera is focusing on Deepika Padukone’s face.

If only we were as expertly informed on earning money or looking good as we are about the dimensions of Yuvraj’s paunch, India would be a better place. In fact our GDP would match Sehwag's run rate, if only we knew our own work as well as we know cricket. We know every player and substitute that has gone through the ranks of the Indian team along with their position, style of play and colour of underwear but we can’t seem to recall a thing at the monthly review meeting, including the name of the company we work for.

Usually we don’t have any intelligent insight to offer either. When a catch is dropped there’s usually a discussion that lasts for days which points out that the catch would have been taken, if only Raina hadn't dropped it. We're also known to make expert predictions like: Today, Sachin will not score a century. Of course these statements are made on the basis of strong statistically data which suggests that it is very unlikely for Sachin to score a century when he’s not playing due to injury.

And we, everyday experts, always talk in a particular manner. Its a style we’ve picked up from listening to Ravi Shastri for longer than is good for health.

Expert 1: Munaf has good length.

Expert 2: Yes, and Virat Kohli is stroking the balls so well.

Expert 3: But he should have better shot selection. A cover drive might have worked better than the tequila shot.

But without the cricketing experts, the country would be really silent. Cricket conversation makes up 87% of all the conversation that happens in India. The remaining 13% consists of asking, “Why is the beer still over?”

Walk Of The Humanoid

The other day while walking back home from college, I saw these group of kids, those who prefer a latto than a beyblade.

They were catching and looping Dragon flies into a knot, perhaps making them their forced pet. A thought was about to hit me but technology interrupted my brain cells and I got a ring from my mother to get some rat-extinguishing spray on my way back home. By the time the call got cut and I was passing by my ‘College Katta’ where I saw humanoids playing some loud music in their transporting devices. This was amusing because, there was no one dancing in or around the car except for the smoke evacuating out of the people standing around the vehicle.

I waved at them, continued walking and thought to myself ‘Why do I know and how do I know these self-proclaimed beings’. I thought,drooled,danced,ran,jumped,digested and burped this attention seeking subject  but there was no perfect answer to it then, but then I thought ‘They might be thinking the same thing about me'.

Strolling along I reached the bus stop, waiting for the bus to reach. I plugged my earphones and I thought to myself ‘Am I thinking too much’. A dog was pleasing his nose near the stop, but the two North Indian auntie’s near me wearing their blingy mirrored ferozee redish orangish reflective dress thought for some reason the dog was checking them out. The auntie’s got paranoid at the dog and scuttled him away. It was then the dog saw them and got amazed at the glow oozing out of the women, but it was no aura, they were the mirrors on their dress. The dog hopped away on his four legs, the women felt proud. I felt pity for the dog, but was happy for him that he was color blind.

A relatively empty bus arrived, but still humanoids did fight to get in. I waited for the smoke gas developed from slangs and spit thrown at each other to settle and then placed my posterior on a vacant seat. I got a window seat.

Later a man, quite a rational looking man came and sat beside me and for some reason he shut the window which I was sitting next to. After 5 minutes of silence from him he began clapping and throwing his fists wildly and Mohammad Ali in the air.  After 30 odd seconds I realized he was trying to kill a mosquito.

The thought which technology had earlier interrupted occurred again; We humanoids are the self proclaimed hierarchy on Earth. Thanks to Steven Spielberg and Jadoo we do not think of being the ultimate species in the entire Universe. The walk from outside my college till the man sat down besides me was all evidence of it.

Dragon Fly: Like it’s a species of insects which do not do any harm to us, just fly around in their own leisure clan, but we humans have to interrupt this. This is what a dragon fly would be thinking before it’s caught “Lalalalalalalalala, such a pleasant climate, ooh those two-legged vertebral kids are pointing at me, they are calling me a dragon fly??? Wow does this mean I am Chinese? Or does this mean I can breathe fire? wait let me ask papa  ” by the time the fly turns around to ask his father, he is caught by a kid and he never got to know about what he was and why he was called a dragon fly”.

The call from my mother: She told me to get a rat extinguisher. Rats are not some idiots, are they? I suppose even they would know what is in the food! Humans are at the hierarchy on the pyramid of starvation and that is because of our very nature of being choosey. For the record, ‘In Hitchhikers Guide To The Galaxy a fictious book by Douglas Adams puts an opinion across whether Earth was build by mice or not. This has been a very successful book and a few years ago also had a movie made about it’.

The College Katta: Now that the entire human species thinks of itself being the most superior breed of mammals existing, then there has to be an Alpha group in every breeding ground. For the same nature of thought the acquaintances of mine were playing music beyond noise decibels and had a look on their faces which said they were thinking this “I am cool,yes I am cool, I am so bloody cool, no I am hot. . .no I am hot and cool, I am HOCOL. This is going to be my facebook status update”  and I bet they would have added a *B-)* emotion to it.

The Bus Stop: Now while waiting for the bus to arrive there were these two North Indian aunties. I am a North Indian myself and I still do not know why these aunties were wearing Christmas decoration on their clothes. But now about this dog; the dog was just sniffing around, like that’s what dogs do. How humans think their superior, how the weighing machine at the railway platform tells you your weight (The fortune telling is complimentary) similarly, a dog sniffs for a living. But the ‘Aunties’ wanted to be the eye candy for the dog. Agreed the color of their clothes was candy-ish. But pity the dog I say.

Now the Man besides Me:  He is still trying to catch that mosquito, which now I think is four seats away and going out of the bus. But this Man wants to prove himself ‘that he is the superior being, so why not kill a mosquito and prove myself that I am bigger than the Blood Sucking Rascal’.

While I was thinking this my thought was interrupted by a roar from the man besides me “I killed you… you blood sucking rascal… I am bigger and mightier than you!”

My brain cells were numb after that, I went home garnished my entire house with the rat extinguisher and without eating any food, I hit the bed.

The next day was a new day, and to my mother’s surprise ‘There were no dead rats’. I just smiled to myself and did not put another thought to it.

By GautamGotiGotwa

(*Gautam GotiGotwa, regardless of his name is a real person and currently studies in TYBMM in Swami Vivekanand College)

Nobodies perfect. That's why everybody has a New Year’s resolution.

The new year has arrived. Call me a pessimist but I have a feeling it’s going to be the same as last year. Full of scams, bad films and broken New Year resolutions.

Every 31^st night, with the dawn of a new year around the corner, people universally begin to see themselves in true light. They realise mistakes made throughout the year and notice their shortcomings when it finally hits them that they’ve seen all 5 Akshay Kumar films this year(and most of MasterChef too).

No but seriously, every year end people introspect and begin to see the sea slugs that they really are. The new year offers them a new beginning to change or improve or to generally just avoid habits that end in “ ..is sentenced to 25 years of hard labour”.

That's why most resolutions are a killjoy. New Year Resolutions are defined as, “short, sharp statements which bind one to stop a pleasant activity or to start an unpleasant one.

Example: Stop eating blueberry cheesecakes.

                 

                Start studying.”

All New Year Resolutions come with an expiry date. They last for an astounding time span, a grand total of 24 hours. In a lot of ways resolutions are like bollywood actresses, you don’t remember them when they get old after which they perform only on 31^st night. And the main reason resolutions are like all news bulletins on India TV: forever breaking, is that they’re very unrealistic. Because let’s face it, your waist isn’t going from a Jayalalitha to a Kareena Kapoor in one year.

New year’s resolutions are rather obvious too. If you weigh 117 kg, your resolution would be to lose weight, if you smoke so much that scientists agree that the depletion of the ozone layer is your fault, then your resolution would be to quit and if your name is Rajnikanth then you wouldn’t have resolutions. Resolutions would have you.

Resolutions are hard things to stick to. They have the non-stickiness of a non-sticky frying pan. It’s always the same story, every New Year. You start the year, with that wonderful feeling that distinguishes a New Year day from other days, that’s right, the feeling of a massive throbbing hangover. When you eventually regain your ability to carry out basic bodily functions, you decide to stick to your resolution of not having more alcohol than the amount of weight you had resolved to lose last year(17,000 tonnes).

You write it down in a spanking new diary, because no new year is complete without scribbling something in a fresh diary which you will feel too lazy to write in, come January the third. However it’s all downhill from there. The resolutions you make are hard to stick to because you can’t be firm on yourself, you begin to expect things to change instantaneously or you generally don’t like the idea of not drinking.

That's how it’s been for me all along. In fact I have a backlog of pending Resolutions that would make the babu’s at the lower parel post office, look pretty darn productive in comparison. That's why this year I decided to make resolutions that I knew I would fulfil. My New Year resolutions for 2011 are:

1. Start ogling at the entire Victoria’s Secret Winter Collection Catalogue.

2. Stop my girlfriend from finding out about it.

3. Change my name to Rajnikanth.

India Has Agriculture But Still Can't Field.

Somehow the Indian Cricket Team and Good Fielding do not fit in the same sentence. Except probably that one.

The Indian Cricket Team has never ever been known as a good fielding unit. That's because when it comes to fielding they are like pigeons, not the most agile and with a lot of droppings.

The importance of fielding probably came to light when cricket turned toward the one day format. The reduced time implied reduced runs and we all know what that meant, thats right: Unhappy batsmen. No seriously, it meant better fielding. Never before had fielding looked so exciting as in the 1992 world cup when jonty Rhodes scampered across from point and flew through the air and ran out Inzamam Ul Haq. That's not saying much because EVERYBODY ran out Inzamam ul haq. However that one moment in cricketing history will forever be remembered for the agility and presence of mind shown by Jonty and the brilliant imitation of a running sack of potatoes by Haq.

In more recent days, the difference between excellent sides(Australia) and very good ones(India, Pakistan and My Gulli Cricket Team) has come to be fielding. At the end of the day or 5 days or 3 hours, fielding saves runs, puts pressure on the batting side and is the only way bowlers get away with bad deliveries.

Seeing the Indian cricket team in the field gets really embarrassing at times. Our fielders often drop the simplest of catches, fumble with the ball for long stretches of time(48 hours) before throwing it back.  And we aren’t very good at throwing either. We have poor throwing actions, weak arms and the accuracy of a weather report.

That's why Indian cricketers use a very primitive technique to get opposition players run out. Its called Miscommunication. They simply wait until the opposition has this sort of conversation.

Batsman: RUN!

Non-Striker: OK!

(goes half-way down the pitch and for some reason cant make it back in the 48 hours it takes the Indian fielders to run him out)

Non-striker: Why the hell did you say run?

Batsman: I didn’t say run. I said Ranthambore. You must have misheard me.

Arguably one of the best fielders to emerge from India in recent times has been you guessed it: Ramesh Powar.  No seriously, it’s Yuvraj Singh. But even he’s not in shape nowadays, unless your idea of fitness involves looking like a hot air balloon. Fitness has been the bane of many an Indian cricketer past and present. Even the best batsman in the world, Sachin Tendulkar looks chubby even after a good day in the gym. And it’s not just the “No-Paunch-bulging-out” fitness that the team lacks in, its also the general fitness that makes for competent athletes that’s missing. That's why Indian fielders dont race after a boundary-headed ball. They waddle behind it like ducks.

And you will never see a really stunning catch coming from the Indian Cricket Team. You’ll rarely see an Indian fielder fly through the air and snatch a streaking ball straight from the sky. By throwing himself at the ball the Indian fielder risks getting his clothes dirty, getting injured or worse, looking really stupid when he misses the ball completely. The only thing he stands to gain is a wicket and a mention in the “(Insert Brand Name Here) moment of day” on the post match show, which nobody watches.

But what defines Indian fielding is the proverbial fumbling. Every match offers the same spectacle. The ball is skimming over a lush turf at a crisp pace, the Indian fielder readies himself to receive it by dipping his fingers in car lubricant. He bends to scoop the ball up but alas it goes through his fingers like a ghost. He then scampers back to retrieve it. He spends half hour in collecting a ball that’s now rather stationary and then somehow manages to throw it a few kilometres wide of the wicketkeeper. India has the rare ability of converting a single into two and very often three runs, now if only they could do this while batting.