THE THREE-HOUR DYNAMITE

Now that the Twenty20 world cup has been pocketed, the victory rallies ended and the champagne stopped flowing, it’s time to sit down and think. Think about what this shortest format of the game is all about and what it holds for the future. It’s also time to destroy some long held myths about this three-hour cricketing dynamite.

Myth # 1 – This is a batsman’s game. If there’s one thing this T20 world cup has exposed, it’s this. This is as much a bowler’s game as it is a batter’s. India won its last three matches, the ones against South Africa, Australia and Pakistan, not because they posted ungettable targets, but because they took wickets at regular intervals. And unlike in the fifty over game, in a Twenty20, every time a wicket falls, the pressure on the incoming batsman increases manifold. And this is at all stages of the game. In the final, if Pakistan were say, six down, as opposed to nine down, they would have won the match, hands tied and eyes closed.

Take the entire tournament, for instance. There were a total of 348 wickets taken in 27 matches. That’s an average of one wicket, every 19 deliveries, which is damn good. The better ones picked up a wicket, once every twelve deliveries. Also, on ten occasions bowlers returned with four-fors. That’s a fair indication that T20 is not a batsman’s game after all.

Myth # 2 – This game is for the big-hitters and the sloggers. Two of the top three run getters in this tournament, Gautam Gambhir and Misbah-ul-Haq, are not the biggest hitters of the cricket ball, by any reckoning. The highest run-getter was Mathew Hayden, who before the World Cup didn’t play a single Twenty20 game. And Matt too is more a clean striker and less a slogger.

Myth # 3 – This game is only about fours and sixes. In the final against Pakistan, out of a 157 that India made, only 76 runs were made in fours and sixes. Take away five extras, and you’ll see that more runs were made by running between the wickets, than by crashing the ball into the billboards. Take even the highest scoring game of the tournament, India versus England. 418 runs were scored in that game. A total of 184 runs were scored in ones, twos and threes. That’s about 45 percent of the total runs, which is ample indication that this game is as much about the grafters, as it is about the butchers.

Myth # 4 – This game is for youngsters. Youth rules. The sight of a victorious young Indian team may re-instate the fact that this is a game for the Gen X-ers, but there are some sporadic old fogies who shone through. Sanath Jayasuriya at one point in the tournament was the highest run getter. He’s 38. The man who eventually became the highest run getter, Mathew Hayden will be 36 in a month’s time. The man who got Pakistan, so near yet so far, Misbah-ul-Haq, is 33. The second highest wicket taker in the tournament is Stuart Clark, who’s just turned 32. Like Mark Twain said “age is an issue of mind over matter. If you don't mind, it doesn't matter.” And cricket my friend, is as much brain as it’s brawn. So here’s to the new baby in the cricketing fraternity. May you live a thousand lives and die a thousand deaths.

BATTLE OF THE MYTHS

The old fox is at it once again. You may or may not agree with Karunanidhi's world view of things, but you cannot grudge the man for an innate sense of time and place. No one in my experience of covering politicians and their ilk, plays to the galleries as often and as well as this man. So for most people, on this side of the Vindhyas, Kalaignar's statement attributing Ram to a drunkard and questioning his engineering capabilities, could amount to heresy. But for me, it's just a reflection of the man and his politics.

This is not the first time that Ram has been used as a punching bag. For proponents of the Dravidian movement, like Karunanidhi, Ram was a symbol of Aryan dominance over the native Dravidian. In fact in the forties and fifties, there was a very popular drama doing the rounds of towns in Tamil Nadu called Keemayana. It was an interpretation of the sacred epic that turned everything in it, on its head. So Ram became a drunkard, Sita became a wanton woman and Ravana was celebrated as a Dravidian Hero. It was thrashed by the Brahmins and lapped up by the lower castes.

But this interpretation by EV Ramaswamy was not iconoclastic. There were numerous interpretations of the Ramayana, which celebrated Ravana as a hero. The most notable among them is by a Tamil Rennaisance saint named Ramalingaswami who denounced Valmiki's interpretation of Rama as the do-gooder and Ravana as all evil. There are even Jain interpretations of the Ramayana in their Prati Puranas, which question the central premise of the epic. EVR's Keemayana though, ended up being the most popular.

A politician's audience defines his politics. Karunanidhi's audience will lap up every bit of the Ram-trashing that he's indulging in. Not that the average Tamilian is not religious. In fact, Tamil society is one of the most visibly religious parts of India. You'll find more men sporting the vibudhi and more women donning the kungumam in Chennai or Coimbatore than in any other city in India. But the Tamilian's idea of Hinduism is different from the mainstream Hinduism, defined by the BJP. For him, Ram is not a deified incarnation of Vishnu. Instead, he's a twice born Kshatriya who was an upholder of Brahminical caste norms in society. Someone who killed Sambuk the Sudra, because he did penance. This makes him a figure of resent for the average non-Brahmin Tamilian who's idea of Hinduism is built on a strong dose of anti-Brahminism. Moreover, Dravidian politics has always thrived on a mid-level-lower caste identity rather than a monolithic Hindu identity. Therefore it's only natural that a Tamilian is suspicious of the BJP's idea of a homogenous Hindu ethos.

Moreover, the Sethusamudram iself is seen as a symbol of Tamil pride. Forget, the developmental aspects of the project. The Tamils believe that their Golden Period, which is known as the Sangam period, was under a unified landmass that comprised of the Deccan plateau, Ceylon, Madagascar, Australia and Antartica. And this piece of land is described as Kumari Kandam. Two massive floods are believed to have sunk the Kumari Kandam. The two Sangams, Mudhal Sangam and Idai Sangam are believed to have been written in between these two floods. For the Dravidians, Kumari Kandam or the cradle of civilization is the origin of human languages in general, and Tamil, in particular. For the Dravidianists, the construction of the Sethusamudram Canal comes closest to a modern realisation of the myth of Kumari Kandam. Thus, it’s this politics of nostalgia and the loss of a golden past that Karunanidhi is trying to stoke. Ironically, it’s one myth versus another. The BJP is attacking Karunanidhi for debunking their myth of the Ramar Sethu, even as he propagates his own myth of Kumari Kandam. As always, the old fox has the last kill.

CAPTAIN COURAGEOUS

There are a few myths regarding the resignation of Rahul Dravid that need to be cleared. If anyone (most notably, sports journalists) comes up to you and says, I saw it coming; then you know he’s fibbing. Fibbing through his teeth because no one saw this coming. Not even the selectors. Not even the mandarins of the BCCI. Not even Rahul’s own agent Lokesh Sharma. Such is the man that Rahul Dravid is. Intensely private. A thorough gentleman.

Just a day before the resignation, the BCCI had this star studded affair announcing the launch of it’s new Twenty 20 league. And there were about 200 odd journalists who descended upon that PC. Not a soul there, knew this was coming. Isn’t this ample proof that Rahul Dravid was not interested in the media. If the man wanted to, he could have gone to press first and then informed his bosses in the BCCI. And take my word for it, a lot many Indian captains have done that in the past. The Board was almost invariably, the last one to know. Typical of the man, Rahul makes his decision known to the Board President and goes off on a holiday to the jungles. Thank God for places where cell phones are still unreachable!

The other myth that needs to be busted is this. That he resigned because of differences within the members of his team. Now proponents of this theory will cite the examples of Sourav Ganguly and Zaheer Khan in England speaking in direct contrast to their captain. Why don’t we get this straight? The Indian cricket team is like a private company with eleven employees. You don’t have to love everyone in office nor do you have to agree with each of them. But, all eleven work towards the profit of the organisation. At the end of the day, it’s just a job. Zaheer and Sourav were stating their personal choices. That, in no way makes it, ‘irreconcilable differences’ within the team.

So why did Rahul resign? Well I’m not an expert on this, nor am I close confidant of his. But being a self-confessed fan of Rahul’s, I think it has something to do with the word ‘Legacy’. Those who know Rahul, know that he’s a stickler for history. Twenty years from now, will we remember Rahul Dravid, the batsman or Rahul Dravid, the captain? Chances are, we’ll remember him as a great batsman. And I’m sure Rahul would not want anything to tarnish that reputation. It is true that his batting had been affected because of his captaincy. From the early sixties it had come down to the mid forties in tests. But that’s happened even to the greatest of the greats. Sir Viv, Steve Waugh and Sachin Tendulkar. For all his Bradmanesque achievements, Dravid too is human after all.

There’s an old saying in Malayalam. "Swaram nanaayi irikumbam pattu niruthenam." Meaning, you have to stop singing when your voice is at its peak. Rahul Dravid is one of the few Indian captains who’s resigned after a high, leading the Indian team to a series victory in England after 2 decades. Most of them are sacked ignominiously. Which leaves us with the one positive development to come out of this whole fiasco. It will give us back, Rahul Dravid the batsman. So here’s to more Kolkatas(180*), Adelaides(233) and Headingleys(148). Welcome back Rahul ‘The Wall’ Dravid.

CONFESSIONS OF A TV ANCHOR

It’s always a nice feeling as a television anchor, if you manage to piss off a guest so badly, that he walks out of your show. It’s a television moment. Something of that sort happened last week, when the guardian of right wing Hindutva, Dr. Praveen Togadia walked out of my show. Apparently, Doctor Saheb (sorry for the politically incorrect reference) was irked at the aggressive questioning of the anchor, that he found it difficult to defend his stated public position.

This is not the first time it’s happened to me though. As far as I can remember, the first person to walk out of my show was a retired Air Force Commodore. I think it was the Air Force day or something. We had a special show on it. And just two days prior to that, another MiG 21 had crashed. As usual, I rubbed it in to the Commodore, that the Indian Air Force needed to get its act right. Being the force ka aadmi that he was, he took offence to my questions. The repartees lasted for about five-seven minutes, after which I ended the chat. And this is an old trick. Whenever you’ve pissed off a guest, the best way to end it is by saying.."Mr.X, you have defended yourself very well. It was a pleasure talking to you." And you extend a handshake. At this point, most guests mutter something under their breath and quite limply offer their hand for a shake. Not Commodore Saheb. After all, he was a force ka aadmi. With the straightest of faces, he says.."I’m afraid it was not such a pleasure talking to you, young man." And in one clean motion, rips his lapel mike off his coat, and walks away, huffing and puffing.

Then there are times, when you don’t exactly come out victorious. Like the time Pooja Bhatt made shredded mincemeat out of me, when I interviewed her, on the day of release of one of her movies. The mistake I made (and I promised myself that day, I’ll never do it again) was that I didn’t watch her movie. I still remember my panel producer say to me after the chat.."Arre, yeh tho tumhe seven course meal banakar kha li." Well, that’s the way life is. Sometimes you feel like an emperor, sometimes you end up feeling like shit. Life is a great leveler. And sometimes, a bitch.

A lot of people have asked me, why do you be so aggressive with your guests. I guess the answer lies in what the great BBC anchor, Jeremy Paxman, once said about the guests on his show. “I know this guy is a lying bastard. Why is he lying to me and how do I show the world that he is?” Although I don’t think of my guests in the same slanderous terms, it’s a method of interviewing I have followed. And not everyone likes it. I don’t expect them to either. Sorry Togadia Saheb.