Does Sachin deserve Bharat Ratna?

How silly do people get when it comes to Cricket in this country?Sachin is Undoubtedly great as no other Indian has hit more centuries than him and no one has played more cricket for such a long time, that too with such consistency.But has he made us proud?

We felt proud when Kapil Dev lifted the cup in 1983 and Sachin was not even in the team. Sachin started playing in 1989 ( if I am not wrong) and India has not won a major tournament until the Twenty-20 world cup, which Sachin didn’t even play.How has he helped the team and the image of the nation then?

What is all this cry about Sachin deserving a Bharat Ratna? No doubt Sachin deserves the highest Sports Award of any country, but is he truly deserving of Bharat Ratna? If that is the case I feel Saina Nehwal too deserves a Bharat Ratna, so does Abhinav Bindra for winning the Only OLYMPICS GOLD for which we Indians are TRULY PROUD.

 I feel Bharat Ratna should go to a person who has made a difference to the nation and its people. I feel it should be regarded as the highest civilian award , and for a nation of over 1.2 billion people this award recipient should be truly special. It should be recognition of public service of the highest order and in that sense we have many more people who deserve this award over Sachin. We have great entrepreneurs who have shaped the way Indians do business. we have parliamentarians, artists, actors, social workers, who have made us proud and to single out Sachin on the basic of 50 centuries, which in no way defines Indian sports , is a bit far fetched according to me.

Howwwzit????????

1. Photoshop magic
2. plain joblessness
3. creativity gone bonkers
4. All the above
5. none of the above

Please select the right answer.

Zillionbig goes for his roots……..

I had a time when I was called by my nickname “aana”, vernacular for an Elephant. I was plump, and overweight would have sounded a blatant understatement. I spent most of my awake minutes in the kitchen, to an utter displeasure of my ARMYMAN father. I would gossip to my mother about neighborhood aunties and she would share some of her trademark recipes with me. In the pretense, I would sample half of all the Papads, fried fish or upperi(dry vegetable dish) my mother roiled and my mother being a mother, would wholeheartedly support me in continuing the sampling act. My Fitness freak father would pass by and from his brood expression I would hint his level of exasperation. Those were my prepubescent days, those good ol days of fun and frolic.

I cared two hoots about my appearance. As long as the neighborhood “chechis”( young women) called me CUTE and brought me toffees , it didn’t bother me much. I was a ladies’ man even then. I would push myself into the private and confidential rooms of neighborhood CHECHIS and explore myself of the many treasure that waited for me to be stumbled. I remember once asking a chichi (she was in 11th or 12th) about a flowery plastic pack with words ‘Carefree sanitary Pads’, and she blushing and telling me that it was some medicine.
Then comes an age when I abruptly turned into a skin-and-bone. My Elephant like body stature lasted only till I was of about 10 years and as soon as I plunked into adolescence, there was so much of changes happening in me that I transformed myself into a lean-tall-young-lad as if overnight. I still don’t know what went through my body but I was totally changed. I gained almost 2 feet in height in as many years and from a boy of 50 kgs and 4.5 feet, I became a lad of 6 feet, albeit with the same weight. One could easily demonstrate anatomy lessons to medical students with my body, instead of a skeleton and I was again derided; but this time around for an exact opposite grounds.

My always-thriving hunger diminished to a level when I would hardly eat anything to the utter annoyance of my father. He would bellow at me to eat and instruct mom to prepare anything and everything that I liked. I remember; I would argue with him and he would force me to have dinner. Me, for that matter my entire family couldn’t figure-out where my hunger disappeared at such short notice. I was taken to a physician and she advised my worried dad that everything was normal and such changes do occur when boys abruptly turn to men. I remember being asked to take digestive syrups and multi-vitamin capsules so that my worried family could see me as my old-fat-self. As I write this I realize how much my family loved me and cared about my health. And how much I have hurt my poor Dad so far, Sorry DAD!!!!

I was lean and trim throughout my early adult life until I started working. After my professional education, my first employers happened to be THE TAJ GROUP OF HOTELS and that’s when the foodie self emerged itself out of me . We had a week of Induction training at Taj Residency hotel in Bangalore and were arranged to stay in the hotel. Et voila, that was my first ever FIVE STAR HOTEL STAY and the food, the luxurious restaurants, coffee shops enthralled me by no mean description. I was this man who had zilch etiquettes and table manners and had to go through several-a-struggle to look fitting into an ambiance of opulence. That’s when it occurred to me that a fork is to be held on the left hand and a knife on the right. The first time I saw a soup spoon, I thought it was some manufacturing defect and almost called the steward for a replacement. What embarrassment it would have been otherwise.

Out of one week, we spent a day of training in the BAR and got a chance to appreciate and discover several names of Wine, whiskey, cognacs, which primarily sounded like greek-latin . I learned that to serve a whisky in wine goblet (as shown in bollywood movies) is as ludicrous as serving jalebis with sambar . It was eureka moments to learn that Champagne is a place in France and not the name of the person who first got drunk on it.

The next phase was the arrival of the leading lady of my life. My wife has this thing about experimenting everything that she comes across on the TV cookery shows and I was made a guinea pig many a times. Our first months after marriage were spent eating out every single day as my wife couldn’t even make a proper cuppa tea. It was after several months that she finally presented before a hungry me, my first meal of wife-made rice and sambar. More about that later……

Ciao all.

P.S: I have just about 50 pages left of the book that i was supposed to come with a review. My next post shall be that, Inshallah.

poignant memoirs !!!!!!

Since long i have wanted to write this. This didn’t start yesterday or the day before. In fact, this has been happening to me as long as i can remember; the mistreatment and hatred people have shown me. It was so bad that I never knew what real love felt like. People made fun of me behind my back, thinking I am not noticing. I knew it. It felt bad. No, i was brokenhearted; i cried. But i still loved them. They even called my girlfriend a bitch. I didn’t mind, I just moved on.

I am an orphan. I don’t know who my parents are. They just dumped me when i was little and tiny. I wish i could see my mother once again. I was so small to remember anything about her. I have heard from my elder friends that she was beautiful. She was also intelligent. But not intelligent enough to make me a part of her. Yet, i don’t hate her, i never can. If i have another chance with life, i would want to be born to her.

Why are you treating me like this? Why am i looked at as a lowly creature? Why doesn’t people understand that i am an individual and i need to be treated with love and respect? I too have self respect and dignity. Why is the whole world conspiring against me?

The only time i felt loved was when that old gentleman saw me in distress and came to me and patted my back. I felt loved. He got me food. He gave me so much love, that i hadn’t got ever in my life. he took me home. Life seemed to change; i got food and shelter, but it was not what almighty had planned for me.

I saw him being stuffed inside that coffin. People who had never cared if he lived, were seen showing-off their love for him, when he died. Isn’t that the man's biggest hypocrisy? I didn’t know what was happening to him. The fact was no one bothered to tell me, it was as if telling me “that was none of my business”. I wanted to scream, “The business was only mine”, but i couldn’t. I was the only one he had, when he lived that is. And once again i was without an address. I moved around, ate what i got, slept on the pavement. Like street dogs. Not that i was any better.

I cried a lot. I missed him all the very much, and he came in my dreams. I went to that house he lived, only to know that it was snatched by his relatives. I had no place there. I was shouted at and thrown out. What do i do but to cry, he was the only one and his love was the only love i ever got.

Then one day, i met her. I thought, this is it !!! Like they say; “Every dog has a day”-I thought my day too have come. She was the most beautiful thing i had ever seen. Probably she was as beautiful as my mother. My mind kept telling me, “ She is yours, She is made for me.....Go idiot...go... Make her yours...”.I dreamt of her, i slept with her in mind, ate with her in mind....i thought she is the only good thing that will ever happen to me.

But!!!...Alas!!!...my love!!!...my life!!!.....my everything!!.... she Dumped me. I saw with my own eyes. I felt i would want to turn blind, rather than to see such a sight, ever. She was holding this guys hand, neck to neck and walking past me. As if I never existed. As if I was some GHOST. A supernatural spirit. I thought she was my only solace, my only love, but i was so wrong. I was so wrong. Sigh!

Cant blame her completely. His body was better than mine. He was stronger than me and better built. I was ever an orphan , always undernourished . How will i impress a beauty like her. I cried a lot. I was desperate. I was heart broken. I wept for weeks.I thought she was mine, but it took few moments to shatter that myth. Not any more.....not anymore!!!!( gets emotional and cries)

“Why me?, I ask you, why me?” Why do i lose everything before even making it mine. *SIGH!!!!*

But i will not give up. I am a survivor. I am a fighter. I will continue to fight. I may not become someone great. I may not mark myself in this world. But i will continue my fight. Only because i don’t know to give-up. I simply don’t know!!!

But there seems to be some light now, at the other side of my life-tunnel. The people who have just moved into my neighborhood, seem to like me. And boy, their young beautiful sister.*sigh*. She is HOT. She has such a great body . She has the sexiest legs i have seen with this eyes, i tell you. She has started showing the signs, the other day she winked at me. Boy!!! And i made the only sound i knew to make, “Bhow, Bhow “. I kept wobbling my tail, and she joined me.

And i am making my plans to live with her, ever after, like these humans say, “ lived happily, ever after”. Stupid humans, Including the one who is writing this!!!! I hate them !!!!!.

An autobiography,

Jimmy-the Pomeranian.

P.S: Inspired( not copied) by Aparna, A’la Bappi lahiri and Anu Malik ishtyle.

P.P.S: I know this isnt really a funny post. if you want ROFWL kinda read click here, i wrote this when i was a struggling blogger ( not that i am better now),something like struggling actors.