To be loved

I don't mean romantic love. I mean respect, adulation, adoration, awe. It is the reason why I feel working in an office all day long is tiring. It is not fulfilling. Humans crave all of the emotions I just mentioned. This post has been in my head since the Brazilian Grand Prix (Formula 1) of 2008. The last race of the year. Felipe Massa - a Brazilian in a Ferrari was in with a chance to win the drivers world championship. It was a moving sight, even on TV, to see the crowd in the stands. I cannot imagine any experience in life better than to perform in front of such a large crowd that overwhelmingly supports you. That race had to be seen to be believed. The fan reaction when he crossed the finish line, the drivers champion if the order at that moment held. The deafening silence when the order changed and he lost the drivers championship by a single point. It's hard to describe.

I attended a metal concert a couple of months ago. Ensiferum, at IIT Bombay. I doubt more than 5% of the crowd knew what the band were singing or even who they were. I didn't. But they were fantastic. So much so that I (and if you know me, you'll see how this is a little surprising) landed up in the mosh pit. Took me on another thought voyage. Can you imagine what it would be like to be the band in this case? To have a huge crowd in your grasp, to see that people were having the time of their lives because of you? What would it feel like?

It's not only a showman who can feel this though. Even the lowly engineer can. If he is in the right place that is. (The author apologises for delving deep into graphics processing unit folklore) In the first half of 2008, ATI, the graphics arm of Advanced Micro Devices, came out with the Radeon 4800 series of graphic cards. This series, in way that cannot be comprehended fully, changed the computer graphics industry forever. For so many years, ATI and Nvidia tried to play better (metaphorically). In 2008, ATI stopped trying to play better. It changed the rules. The 4800 series captured the imagination of everyone who cared for this industry. A couple of months later, I came across an article on Anandtech, describing what went into creating the 4800 series. The design team took gambles, audacious gambles, and it all paid off. The comments to that article are relevant to this post. It was a public outpouring of admiration for the folks at ATI.

During a similar time last year, I also saw The Dark Knight in theatres. The first day and the first show. The movie had been hyped to levels I had seldom seen. And it lived up to the hype. In fact, it exceeded the hype. Most of this was thanks to a certain Heath Ledger. I have never seen a movie receive a standing ovation at the end of a screening. That day I did. I'm sorry that the people associated with the film do not get a chance to see this reaction (I'm sure it happened many times over across the world).

Life isn't about how much money you earn. It isn't about how much success you have. It isn't about how many promotions you get. It isn't about how many cars or houses you have. It is about being loved. The love of a small group of people close to you, and the love of a large group of people across the world. I wish that life takes me along a path that will let me achieve my goal in life. Indeed, there is only one. To be loved.

Marat Safin

I don't consider myself a tennis fan. I know most of the rules, know the current world #1s. But that's about it. On a fine January morning in 2005, I happened to read an article celebrating the twenty-fifth birthday of (to me) little known Russian tennis player. That player was of course, Marat Safin (And if you didn't see that coming after the post title, YOU'RE A DOLT). I remember being extremely fascinated by this man. I loved the fact that he wore his heart on his sleeve, wasn't afraid to say what he thought. His temper amused me too - he'd break racquets and berate himself in multiple languages... His only stumbling block was his form, which varied as erratically as weather forecasts vary from reality. I decided that I had to see this man play. It was convenient that his birthday, and consequently the article, were around the time of the 2005 Australian open. I saw all of his matches during that Australian open, and was immediately a fan. He defeated Roger Federer in an epic semi-final and the went on to beat the fan favourite Australian Lleyton Hewitt in another fabulous match. I'd finally found a tennis player to support.

It all went downhill from there. Plagued by injury and a lack of self belief, Safin hardly ever made it past the initial rounds of most tournaments after that. I gave up watching tennis too. Roger Federer was too boring and I didn't really like Nadal. Fast forward to a couple of days back, and I see a news article that said that Safin was through to the third round of Wimbledon having beaten Novak Djokovic. That got me excited, I made every attempt to get the time for his third round match. A prolonged search got me a time of 6:30 PM IST, yesterday. But then, one must not forget that Wimbledon is in Great Britain. Thanks to the weather, the match only started around 11 PM IST. To cut a long story short, he won. What excites me is that last night (I stayed up to 2 AM, watching him win) he was the vintage Safin. There was a little bit of everything that makes Marat Safin what he is. There was a racquet thrown, frequent yelling, multiple expressions of disbelief at how he'd been cheated by providence over one shot or the other. Coming up to the what had to be the last game (he only had to hold serve), him leading 7-6, 3-6, 7-6, 5-4, the crowd was going crazy. There was a spectacular Mexican wave that went around Court 1 thrice before he could even start his serve. And then, just to prove that this was of course, the ever erratic Marat Safin, he went on to trail 15-40. Everybody (me included) must have groaned inwardly at this juncture. Could he blow it all? Having done all the hard work, would he stumble now? And he didn't. The crowd went beserk as he took victory from an increasingly panic stricken Andreas Seppi.

Safin is quite the fan favourite. The spectators gathered at court 1 braved chilling weather, seated till after 9 PM local time, to see another Safin epic, and they were rewarded. Safin was gracious enough to sign a multitude of autographs after the gruelling three hour match, and left the court to loud cheers from the spectators. What is it about this Russian that makes him such a favourite with the fans? To be really honest, I think Safin's rollercoaster career appeals to this feeling we all have inside us. The tragedy of unfulfilled genius. Safin embodies that unfulfilled genius. That's why, his win is our win, his loss is our loss, his heartbreak is ours and his jubilation is ours too.

One of the commentators said something about destiny. If ever Safin was supposed to win Wimbledon, it had to be now. Can he win? Of course, when he's mentally fit, it doesn't matter who the opponent is. It just doesn't. He can steamroll the best into submission. Will he? That's another matter altogether, for Marat Safin always plays with a handicap. Only one man is trying to defeat his opponent. Safin. However, two men are trying to defeat Safin. His opponent and - Safin himself. I'm sure there are millions of fans worldwide who'd like to see him overcome himself in the coming days. If he can do that, I truly, from the bottom of my heart feel sorry for his opponents.

Like another commentator said, "It's ridiculous really, that a man of such prodigious talent last won a grand slam at the Australian open three years ago."

The IPL...

I've not been blogging for a while now... You might have thought, 'Ha! this guy is out of ideas already!'. But I've just conned you! (Not really, I did run out of ideas, but that's just not for YOU to know).

So now that that's been settled, let me get (re) started with the blog. I saw the first IPL match yesterday. The Kolkata Knight Riders completely decimated the Bangalore Royal Challengers (who, I could not resist this, did not put up much of a challenge!). It was good entertainment, the crowds loved it and so did the commentators. I can't say I didn't enjoy it, but it worries me. This is far too short a version of the game to bring out it's glorious possibilities. It just got me thinking... No matter what the players out there do, there some events that will never happen in T20. In no particular order, here we go:

1. Sachin checks into heartbreak hotel.
What Indian fan can forget the heartbreak of losing to Pakistan in Chennai in 1998? Chasing 271 to win in the fourth innings of the first test, only two Indian batsmen got to double figures. One of them was Sachin Tendulkar. Battling severe back spasms, he almost led the inept Indian team to a what would have been a fabulous win. Too bad there was nobody else to score those remaining 13 runs.

2. Yuvraj and Kaif lead us home
Netwest series final, 2002. In a T20 game, after the start India had had, there wouldn't have been a chance in hell of winning. It takes a longer version to separate the men from the boys.

3. South Africa bt Australia by one wicket in 2006
It was what has been called one of the greatest games of all time. The sheer nerves required to chase that target... WOW! Nothing of this sort will ever occur in T20 for the simple reason that T20 is too short. It's possible to maintain that sort of momentum for twenty overs... but fifty? I'd have said not a chance, if I hadn't seen this innings that is.

There is of course a lot more you could add to this list. But then again, I can only talk of what I've seen. I'd be truly sorry if T20 kills tests or ODIs...