Monday, December 24, 2007
3-2 and the ode
Jus for the sake of those non-existant readers of this blog...latest staus of teh apps is 3-2...admit from UC Davis on Friday.
The big ones are awaited...fingers crossed.
Now the ode...to the most famous bengali post independance, to my personal hero - The Prince of Kolkata.
Bengalis are known for their blind passion and support for the son of the soil, but Dada has captured the imagination of the nation and the world with this gritty comeback. But wait, I'm rushing this ode. Lets go back to the early 90's.
The Australian tour of 91-92, jus prior to the World Cup. Mohammed Azharuddin struggling, young Srinath generating some genuine pace and Sachin enthralling the Australian crowd with his talent. Part of that touring party was a nondescript 19 year old teenager, Sourav Ganguly. A talented left-hander but the victim of the politics that sub-continent cricket has come to accept. With one tour match, where he did pretty well, in a partnership with the run-out maestro of that tour, Sanjay Manjrekar. One ODI, a single digit score the bengali cricket dream after Pankaj Roy was finished. Touted as a "Maharaj" by the media, teh 19 year old was flung back to the anonymity of domestic cricket.
Still a boy in school, I watched Dada play Orissa at Eden Gardens on a Sunday afternoon, soon after his Australian night mare. Booed by his home-town, abused by one and all the biy became a man.
Four years in the grit and grime of ranji cricket, Dada steeled mentally.
It was 1996, i was in the 11th standard struggling with pressures of adolescence, engineering entrance tests, board exams. Dada made his debut at Lords. We didnt have a cable connection at home, so I managed to grab bits of his innings from the news clippings. Im sure I wouldnt have been able to sit throught the innings. Somehow I felt one with Dada. That image of Dada holding the Man-of the Series in his hand will be ever lasting one in my memory.
Soon I was facing the worst crisis of my life, a year at home after the board exams, preparing for the entrances. It was my time to steel up. I still remember that day, standing outside the gates of Bidhannagar Govt College, waiting to go to my Maths Hons class, I heard a classmate of mine sings praises of Dada's performance at Toronto. Salim Mallik had become his personal bunny, Dada was taking wickets, scoring runs, India had drubbed Pakistan 4-1. The pain of those defeats at Sharjah was a thing of the past. If Dada could bounce back, so could I !!
1998, a dream fulfilled as I entered the gates of Jadavpur University. I had achieved what I had setout to acheive a year back. I was no longer lost in wilderness.
The South African ODI series, Dada captain of India !! He was setting the bar higher.
Those six years of sheer joy that he gave us, his uninhibited display of emotion at Lords, beating the Australians at home and away, thumping that century at Adelaide, crushing one and all before falling before the mighty Australians at Jo'Berg, Dada was realising a dream.
Then followed the slump, the home series against Pakistan, ridiculed by the media and the public, the fallout with Greg Chappell in Zimbabwe, fighting for his place in Pakistan. Dada was out!!
Was the dream over?? Dada struggled in county cricket, domestic cricket!!
Obituaries were being written. Menawhile my dream of a MBA was slowly being flushed out.
Then came the turn-around, the prince ws fighting back. Match-Winning performances in doemstic cricket, dada was clawing back.
Finally in South Africa a fighting performance and the tide had turned.
England, West Indies, Pakistan, Dada devoured all in his path.
Now the 100th test match on Boxing day in MCG. A year back who would have thought Dada would still be part of the touring party, and its best player as well. Dada didn't give up. He gave me the strength to hango n to my dreams, and they too seem to be on their orad to realization in the fall of 2008.
Dada fights on..........
The big ones are awaited...fingers crossed.
Now the ode...to the most famous bengali post independance, to my personal hero - The Prince of Kolkata.
Bengalis are known for their blind passion and support for the son of the soil, but Dada has captured the imagination of the nation and the world with this gritty comeback. But wait, I'm rushing this ode. Lets go back to the early 90's.
The Australian tour of 91-92, jus prior to the World Cup. Mohammed Azharuddin struggling, young Srinath generating some genuine pace and Sachin enthralling the Australian crowd with his talent. Part of that touring party was a nondescript 19 year old teenager, Sourav Ganguly. A talented left-hander but the victim of the politics that sub-continent cricket has come to accept. With one tour match, where he did pretty well, in a partnership with the run-out maestro of that tour, Sanjay Manjrekar. One ODI, a single digit score the bengali cricket dream after Pankaj Roy was finished. Touted as a "Maharaj" by the media, teh 19 year old was flung back to the anonymity of domestic cricket.
Still a boy in school, I watched Dada play Orissa at Eden Gardens on a Sunday afternoon, soon after his Australian night mare. Booed by his home-town, abused by one and all the biy became a man.
Four years in the grit and grime of ranji cricket, Dada steeled mentally.
It was 1996, i was in the 11th standard struggling with pressures of adolescence, engineering entrance tests, board exams. Dada made his debut at Lords. We didnt have a cable connection at home, so I managed to grab bits of his innings from the news clippings. Im sure I wouldnt have been able to sit throught the innings. Somehow I felt one with Dada. That image of Dada holding the Man-of the Series in his hand will be ever lasting one in my memory.
Soon I was facing the worst crisis of my life, a year at home after the board exams, preparing for the entrances. It was my time to steel up. I still remember that day, standing outside the gates of Bidhannagar Govt College, waiting to go to my Maths Hons class, I heard a classmate of mine sings praises of Dada's performance at Toronto. Salim Mallik had become his personal bunny, Dada was taking wickets, scoring runs, India had drubbed Pakistan 4-1. The pain of those defeats at Sharjah was a thing of the past. If Dada could bounce back, so could I !!
1998, a dream fulfilled as I entered the gates of Jadavpur University. I had achieved what I had setout to acheive a year back. I was no longer lost in wilderness.
The South African ODI series, Dada captain of India !! He was setting the bar higher.
Those six years of sheer joy that he gave us, his uninhibited display of emotion at Lords, beating the Australians at home and away, thumping that century at Adelaide, crushing one and all before falling before the mighty Australians at Jo'Berg, Dada was realising a dream.
Then followed the slump, the home series against Pakistan, ridiculed by the media and the public, the fallout with Greg Chappell in Zimbabwe, fighting for his place in Pakistan. Dada was out!!
Was the dream over?? Dada struggled in county cricket, domestic cricket!!
Obituaries were being written. Menawhile my dream of a MBA was slowly being flushed out.
Then came the turn-around, the prince ws fighting back. Match-Winning performances in doemstic cricket, dada was clawing back.
Finally in South Africa a fighting performance and the tide had turned.
England, West Indies, Pakistan, Dada devoured all in his path.
Now the 100th test match on Boxing day in MCG. A year back who would have thought Dada would still be part of the touring party, and its best player as well. Dada didn't give up. He gave me the strength to hango n to my dreams, and they too seem to be on their orad to realization in the fall of 2008.
Dada fights on..........
Tuesday, December 18, 2007
Sunday, December 16, 2007
3-1
Finally the home team scores..
3-1...Carroll's admit info came in on Friday..
yet to get any info on the funding situation...need to call the admissions office on Monday...
3-1...Carroll's admit info came in on Friday..
yet to get any info on the funding situation...need to call the admissions office on Monday...
Friday, December 14, 2007
What If....
What if things don't work out the way I hope they would.....
What if none of the applications work for me...
What if I have to give this application process another shot next year....
These thoughts are beginning to cross my mind now, but still 6 decisions to look out for, so the flame of hope burns, albeit a little dimmed...
Abhra in-fact lightened my mood yesterday with his story of rejects from 8 schools before he got his admit in 2004.....
What if none of the applications work for me...
What if I have to give this application process another shot next year....
These thoughts are beginning to cross my mind now, but still 6 decisions to look out for, so the flame of hope burns, albeit a little dimmed...
Abhra in-fact lightened my mood yesterday with his story of rejects from 8 schools before he got his admit in 2004.....
Thursday, December 13, 2007
Heartbreak
1 interview and two dings, thats the week so far.
The Simon interview was ok, I definately could have done better with a couple of questions.
Got to my hotel in Houston from Rochester, checked my mail, bang, the reject from Columbia.
Three days later, boom, the ding from Emory.
Phew, its going to be a long week.
My last shot at a top 20 school is gone.
I know where I went wrong, the essays didn't have enough substance in them and this year the applicant pool seems to be stronger than ever.
Will submit Tippie today, come what may.
I am depressed, but the dream isn't over yet. Still have five shots at it.
Oh dear God, dont break me like this......
The Simon interview was ok, I definately could have done better with a couple of questions.
Got to my hotel in Houston from Rochester, checked my mail, bang, the reject from Columbia.
Three days later, boom, the ding from Emory.
Phew, its going to be a long week.
My last shot at a top 20 school is gone.
I know where I went wrong, the essays didn't have enough substance in them and this year the applicant pool seems to be stronger than ever.
Will submit Tippie today, come what may.
I am depressed, but the dream isn't over yet. Still have five shots at it.
Oh dear God, dont break me like this......
Monday, December 03, 2007
Subbu's Car
It was getting really late. Anirudh glanced at the dashboard of his car, the digital clock in his dashboard showed 7:15 p.m. He had to reach his home in fifteen minutes, but given the traffic conditions, there was no way he would reach home by 7:30 p.m. He had another twenty minutes of drive left, provided there wasn’t any traffic !!!
He decided to call Mr.Subramanium.
Out came his latest N-Series, his pride and joy. Searched his phonebook for Subbu, he was too busy to punch in the exact name, and anyways he would get the spelling wrong, keep it simple he had reasoned to himself!! Anirudh chuckled at the thought of the nickname he had given his new boss Mr.S.Gangadhar, what an apt nickname for the SOB he thought
Subbu’s phone was ringing.
Anirudh – “ Hello, is this Mr.Subramanium?”
Subbu – “Yes I say, who is this?”
Anirudh – “Good Evening Sir !!, This is Anirudh Singhania, I have a telephonic interview scheduled with you today at 7:30 p.m. Is it ok to postpone the interview by an hour, Sir?”
Subbu – “ Hmm..ok, not a problem. But make sure you don’t delay it any further I say”
Anirudh – “Thank you so much sir!! I’ll give you a call at 8:30 sharp. Bye”
Anirudh was applying to this open position at a MNC. He had given innumerable interviews at the place, today’s interview was supposedly his last. He was scheduled to be interviewed by the MNC’s India operations’ head honcho Mr.K.J.Subramanium.
Anirudh was working for a firm in the suburbs of Mumbai, and it was difficult for him to appear for the interview in-person at the MNC’s offices in south-Mumbai at 7:30 in the evening. He had requested the HR handling his case to request Mr.Subramanium to agree to a telephonic interview. Thankfully Subbu had agreed.
Anirudh had certain documents to refer to before he called Subbu, and like a fool he had left it at home. He had to give himself at least ten to fifteen minutes before calling up Subbu.
But the traffic that day on Western Express Highway was unbelievable, for the last thirty minutes his car hadn’t moved an inch. Added to that frustration was this car behind him, which was constantly honking. The honking continued for the next five minutes. Unable to bear it, Anirudh got out from his car.
The culprit was a chauffeur driven jet black C-Class Mercedes Benz. Anirudh’s heart skipped a beat. His dream car!!
Keeping his emotion in check, he knocked on the driver’s window. As soon as the window slid down, ever so sweetly, Anirudh let fly a range of expletives, the best of the breed, the choicest collections from his four years spent in those dungeon like rooms spent in the REC-Suratkal student hostels.
Before the driver could react Anirudh ran back to his car.
He had noticed that the car had a passenger, an elderly gentleman, but that didn’t matter for Anirudh. Back in the safe confines of his car, Anirudh allowed himself to smile. The driver must still be in shock he thought. Content at having taught the honking maniac a lesson, Anirudh’ tension slowly disappeared, aided also by the fact that the traffic jam seemed signs of easing up.
But much to his horror, the honking resumed soon. Anirudh decided to wait this time a little longer before swinging into action. He was inching close to the signal. He waited for his moment, as soon as the signal turned green, seeing the road relatively maneuverable up ahead, Anirudh backed up his old Fiat and hit the C-Class’s front fender, before speeding away.
Victory !!! Anirudh punched his fists in sadistic pleasure speeding away.
“Bloody rich b******. Think you own the world !! Njoii!!”, he shouted while making a getaway.
Anirudh reached home just in time to glance through his notes and give Subbu a call.
Feeling pretty good about his evening’s exploits, Anirudh called Subbu.
Anirudh: “Hello Subb…err..Mr Subramanium. Good evening !!”
Subbu: “ Yes hello, tell me I say!!”
That was odd, thought Anirudh, Subbu seemed irritated, but he had called him sharp at 8:30 p.m.
Anirudh: “Sir, is this a good time to talk to you?”
Subbu: “ Well!! Err..carry on anyways, in Mumbai its never a good time!!”
Anirudh had his window of opportunity, he seized it.
Anirudh: “You are right sir, Mumbai, phew what a city, jams, pollution. It is tough Sir, especially if you are new to the city”
Anirudh knew Subbu had moved in from Singapore recently to head the MNC’s India operations out of Mumbai.
“Am I smart? Or am I smart?”, thought Anirudh to himself.
Subbu: “Yes, yes the jams. Pardon my saying this but Mumbaikars are animals on the road. I was on way back home from office, this maniac in his Fiat shouted at my chauffeur like a bl**** hooligan near a traffic signal on the highway!! And can you imagine he damaged my brand new car too!! My stupid driver couldn’t get his number or else I would have I sued the bugger for damages I say!! Sorry for bothering you with these details, but I’m really upset I say, is this the way to behave?...Ok, anyways, lets get started with your interview, tell me a little about your self..e..a..what was your name again?..Hello..hello..is there anyone there I say..hello..hello hello….?”.
He decided to call Mr.Subramanium.
Out came his latest N-Series, his pride and joy. Searched his phonebook for Subbu, he was too busy to punch in the exact name, and anyways he would get the spelling wrong, keep it simple he had reasoned to himself!! Anirudh chuckled at the thought of the nickname he had given his new boss Mr.S.Gangadhar, what an apt nickname for the SOB he thought
Subbu’s phone was ringing.
Anirudh – “ Hello, is this Mr.Subramanium?”
Subbu – “Yes I say, who is this?”
Anirudh – “Good Evening Sir !!, This is Anirudh Singhania, I have a telephonic interview scheduled with you today at 7:30 p.m. Is it ok to postpone the interview by an hour, Sir?”
Subbu – “ Hmm..ok, not a problem. But make sure you don’t delay it any further I say”
Anirudh – “Thank you so much sir!! I’ll give you a call at 8:30 sharp. Bye”
Anirudh was applying to this open position at a MNC. He had given innumerable interviews at the place, today’s interview was supposedly his last. He was scheduled to be interviewed by the MNC’s India operations’ head honcho Mr.K.J.Subramanium.
Anirudh was working for a firm in the suburbs of Mumbai, and it was difficult for him to appear for the interview in-person at the MNC’s offices in south-Mumbai at 7:30 in the evening. He had requested the HR handling his case to request Mr.Subramanium to agree to a telephonic interview. Thankfully Subbu had agreed.
Anirudh had certain documents to refer to before he called Subbu, and like a fool he had left it at home. He had to give himself at least ten to fifteen minutes before calling up Subbu.
But the traffic that day on Western Express Highway was unbelievable, for the last thirty minutes his car hadn’t moved an inch. Added to that frustration was this car behind him, which was constantly honking. The honking continued for the next five minutes. Unable to bear it, Anirudh got out from his car.
The culprit was a chauffeur driven jet black C-Class Mercedes Benz. Anirudh’s heart skipped a beat. His dream car!!
Keeping his emotion in check, he knocked on the driver’s window. As soon as the window slid down, ever so sweetly, Anirudh let fly a range of expletives, the best of the breed, the choicest collections from his four years spent in those dungeon like rooms spent in the REC-Suratkal student hostels.
Before the driver could react Anirudh ran back to his car.
He had noticed that the car had a passenger, an elderly gentleman, but that didn’t matter for Anirudh. Back in the safe confines of his car, Anirudh allowed himself to smile. The driver must still be in shock he thought. Content at having taught the honking maniac a lesson, Anirudh’ tension slowly disappeared, aided also by the fact that the traffic jam seemed signs of easing up.
But much to his horror, the honking resumed soon. Anirudh decided to wait this time a little longer before swinging into action. He was inching close to the signal. He waited for his moment, as soon as the signal turned green, seeing the road relatively maneuverable up ahead, Anirudh backed up his old Fiat and hit the C-Class’s front fender, before speeding away.
Victory !!! Anirudh punched his fists in sadistic pleasure speeding away.
“Bloody rich b******. Think you own the world !! Njoii!!”, he shouted while making a getaway.
Anirudh reached home just in time to glance through his notes and give Subbu a call.
Feeling pretty good about his evening’s exploits, Anirudh called Subbu.
Anirudh: “Hello Subb…err..Mr Subramanium. Good evening !!”
Subbu: “ Yes hello, tell me I say!!”
That was odd, thought Anirudh, Subbu seemed irritated, but he had called him sharp at 8:30 p.m.
Anirudh: “Sir, is this a good time to talk to you?”
Subbu: “ Well!! Err..carry on anyways, in Mumbai its never a good time!!”
Anirudh had his window of opportunity, he seized it.
Anirudh: “You are right sir, Mumbai, phew what a city, jams, pollution. It is tough Sir, especially if you are new to the city”
Anirudh knew Subbu had moved in from Singapore recently to head the MNC’s India operations out of Mumbai.
“Am I smart? Or am I smart?”, thought Anirudh to himself.
Subbu: “Yes, yes the jams. Pardon my saying this but Mumbaikars are animals on the road. I was on way back home from office, this maniac in his Fiat shouted at my chauffeur like a bl**** hooligan near a traffic signal on the highway!! And can you imagine he damaged my brand new car too!! My stupid driver couldn’t get his number or else I would have I sued the bugger for damages I say!! Sorry for bothering you with these details, but I’m really upset I say, is this the way to behave?...Ok, anyways, lets get started with your interview, tell me a little about your self..e..a..what was your name again?..Hello..hello..is there anyone there I say..hello..hello hello….?”.
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