The Dutch have looked the best outfit so far, on target to replicate their feat 20 years ago. Marco Van Basten, Ruud Gullit and Frank Rijkaard were part of that winning team which provided entertainment throughout the tourney. Spain too will be through to the quarters if they win today. For Italy and France it would be a repeat of the World Cup final, the winner advancing to the quarters unless Romania do the unthinkable in defeating Holland. Germany, well may end up playing Portugal if they defeat co-hosts Austria. Crotia who are playing  very well should top the group and go onto play the Czechs.On present form, Spain and the Netherlands should reach the title round with Orange prevailing over Red. Unless, Christiano Ronaldo does what he does best for Manchester United, score goals that matter to seal matches. Unpredictability is what makes sport so interesting...

The Aarushi murder is horrendous. Even after 2 weeks the Police have been unable to track down the killer. The case has gone to the CBI and this too has not made much of a difference. It seems to be a trial and error scenario which puts the law enforcers in very poor light. ( The news channels are having non stop fun for sure) The Rohtak rape and subsequent suicide of the victim due to deprivation of justice is another case in point. If they themselves cannot protect the public, how can they be expected to bring the culprits to book? Look at the (MGR) Vijayan murder. Still there are no arrests, the accused have got themselves admitted to hospitals under the pretext of receiving treatment. Whom are they kidding? The entire Police force looks a bunch of jokers to me, the Minter in charge of all this is still clinging onto his seat, making him the head of the pack. Jai Hind!

Have you ever been left with a few Rupees in your pocket just enough to get back home by the cheapest mode of transport? I went through this horror not too long back. I went to the bank to collect my pass book and had only a hundred bucks with me. On my way back, I topped up my phone by about half of that and walked to the nearest HSBC ATM to draw money. My in-law who had promised to deposit money had failed to do so ( when has he ever been prompt anyway?) and I had actually crossed the credit limit. Back on the road, I had very little dow, I was scrared to even walk into a juice parlour for fear of defaulting payment. ( how do they punish defaulters in parlours, are they asked to peel oranges?) I had a quick cuppa in a roadside boutique which cost 5 bucks and was generous enough to give 2 bucks to poor elder. The share auto ride back home cost me 7 bucks and by the time I was home after buying a few mags I was left with little over 10 rupees but quite relieved I was out of danger.

The epidemic by this name spread like wild fire in West Bengal a few months ago resulting in the culling of hundreds of thousands of the feathered creatures. In a way, I feel really sorry for them as they are bread for the purpose of feeding humans and their life span doesn’t exceed a month and a half. Sadly, no vaccine has been invented to eradicate the virus behind this and the poor chicks are culled for fear of the humans being infected. Now, there is a talk of the disease spreading in Arunachal Pradesh and the culling has already commenced. Despite so many experts claiming that cooking of meat at higher temperatures will make it safe for consumption, the health authorities want to take no chances  and hence the mayhem. Sad, there is nobody to fight for the birds’ rights…

This is not some comparison about the present and the colonial times, but it is more about the cosmopolitan city I traversed in the ‘90s and the one I’m encountering at present. It’s an amazing coincidence that my professional sojourn had to start at Grill-X for which I had to board 29C at Sterling to alight at Music Academy and precisely doing the same all over again 18 years since. Life seems to have traversed a full circle. The monstrous fly-over near this place seems to be the only major addition. There weren’t this many vehicles (and people) then, share auto culture was unheard of. The Nungambakkam high road was not one-way in stretches as it is now, the parapet wall near the Sterling road bus halt (where Ramesh, Senthil and I used to spend ‘quality’ time) has been raised up. Hotel Ganpath isn’t flourishing as of then, Landmark and Hotel Ranjith remain though. Stella Maris thrives, Ispahani centre and M.O.B.Vaishnav college are new additions. I left when I was 26 and feel as if I’ve woken up from a dream after all these years. There is a Coffee day kiosk near the petrol shed where I sip a cup of Cappacinno before boarding the share-auto back home. Once crouched in to the space available ( after waiting for over half hour at most times) it’s very embarrassing to be staring at fellow passengers,(mostly the fairer sex) each one with an agenda of their own. If I’m lucky, I get to sit next to the driver and if a bit more luckier, get a cheerful fellow driving the vehicle. A strike a conversation for the next 45 minutes while he maneuvers through the heavy traffic, swearing, smiling and speaking to me all at the same time. He even gets copped at strategic points along the way, rude and selfish passengers not helping his cause either. Finally, my destination is reached and I sign off with a wave to my buddy (?) and cross the road which in itself is dangerous and requires quite a bit of skill. Chennai never the less, continues to sizzle…..

I was working in Ghana and happened to come for a vacation in Feb '97. My mother was worried (my cousins had been telling her) I'll bring back a Black beauty and she had hastily arranged for a bride (to be) from a relative's family. This girl too had studied in India like me, but we never got to meet each other. My father picked me up at 5am from the airport and the first words he uttered were that we'll be visiting the girl's house. I literally pleaded with him as I was too tired due to 2 days of travel and jet-lag, but nothing worked. I was met by the girl's in laws and father during the course of the day and at 5pm was virtually dragged to 'see' the bride.

Pleasantries were exchanged and then the girl offered coffee to the gathering. Before I could see her face, she vanished. (My cousins had terrified me she was dark, plumb and bespectacled) Someone asked me whether I liked the girl. I sat like an ass, not knowing what to say about something I didn't have the faintest of idea. Luckily, my B/L stepped in and when I told him of my sorry plight (?), he spoke to the elders and decided to let us see each other in private (!) But, it was conditional, I was given 5 minutes to decide, if I stayed longer than that it would be presumed I liked the girl and the marriage would be through.

Nervous is not the word, I stepped in with a stop-watch (?) and when I saw the girl smile, literally lost my off stump. We spoke about so many things, most of them seem quite meaningless now, and when I glanced at my watch (how I had forgotten such a thing even existed till then) it was well past the 5 minute barrier. This was fate, I thought to myself.

When I emerged outside, only one question was asked by all (you know what) and I was nodding and grinning at the same time.

I spoke to her from the airport later in the week just before flying off to Ghana again, this was the longest call I have ever made and still it seemed too short.

I used to call her every week-end for 5 minutes throughout my stay till November '97(then too the stop watch was in play!), this happened to be the happiest time in our life, more appropriately the 'butterflies in the tummy' days.

p.s : Indra and Umesh are married for 10 years with kids Tharshika(9) and Ishanthan(3)

After a high of over 3 months the Indian teams moral came crashing down at Motera in Ahmedabad yesterday. True Sachin, the master was missing and his presence would have made a lot of difference. But, what about the the other seasoned men who looked like a pack of nervous school boys to be shot out for a paltry 76. Only Irfan Pathan showed any signs of battling it out, ironically he was chosen more as a bowler than a batsmen, taking into account the 600 plus score that was posted in Chennai only last week. There were no hidden horrors in the wicket either as the South African reply would suggest. Today we saw Kallis and De Villiers put up 256 runs for the fifth wicket with utmost ease. Our bowlers were made to toil for the lone success and the way things are going, we may be batted right out of the match. Certainly the Proteas bowlers aren't super human as we were made to believe in the first session yesterday.The bowled with purpose and were disciplined in their effort. Hard to believe that our guys who did so well down under caving in so easily. We lasted just 20 overs. Has IPL's Twenty 20 already taken over?

Took the electricians to Ramu sir's place yesterday. His younger daughter Nandu was there. But, she spoke to me as if I was a first timer to their house hold. I had to remind her I had visited their home and had had breakfast with her dad,Sathya and Pugal. She kept insisting it must have been her older sibling,who I'm afraid I hadn't met until later in the evening. This is not a syndrome new to me, short memory syndrome (SMS) is common among girls affiliated to affluent institutions like Stella Maris,WCC and Ethiraj to name just a few. These girls retain images of people who are pleasant to the eyes only. The way I am it is easy to press the delete button without a second thought. Not that I am in any way hurt, I have been abused(?) more than this by girls even 20 years earlier. And when compared to what my spouse throws at me,this is all in a day's work.