New Age Sport

‘When young boys do not get to fight wars, they love to sweat it out on the playing fields’
-- Anonymous

Over the years commentators have argued that sport is an extension of war. It involves two opponents slugging it out against each other, using strategies to attack, counter-attack and outwit each other. But what makes it even more interesting is that unlike the wars of today where there do not seem to be any rules that restrict the execution of strategies, sports are regulated by a set of rules that are framed with the concurrence of participating nations. They are expected to adhere to not only these written diktats but also respect the ‘unwritten’ traditions and compulsions that have risen because of the nature of the game.

However rules can only seek to control physical jousts – they fall severely short of regulating verbal duels that are part and parcel of every game. What is worrying is that the nature of these verbal duels has changed dramatically over the years. In the days of the gentlemen these verbal exchanges were limited to discussions about the weather and the friendly banters that were meant to distract the players, but with the advent of the Generation X’s and Y’s these discussions have degenerated into discussions that raise doubts about one’s paternity, class, race, spouses and color. With the human race becoming ultra competitive the desire to excel has become so intense that players are willing to cross the thin line between mental distraction and mental disintegration. One cannot but draw a parallel between the eighteen day war of the Mahabharata and the way games are played today. In this ancient war the code of conduct a warrior was expected to adhere to was openly flouted which resulted in a cycle of retribution that ultimately led to the downfall of young heroes on both sides of the conflict. Similarly, players today are willing not only to break the ‘unwritten’ code of sportsmanship but are extending the boundaries of these conflicts to the realms of the print and visual media. Planned press conferences are held where players are provoked, stories are penned in gossip columns about where a person slept over the previous night and financial muscles are flexed to hound opponents into submission.

Practitioners of these strategies argue that players need both physical and mental toughness to win a game. Accepted, but if the physical attributes of the game can be controlled by a set of governing rules isn’t it time to sit down and verbalize the extent to which these mental wars can be fought. As a race, we are an aggregation of several civilizations, and what may be acceptable to one part of the world may be frowned upon in another. It is one’s duty to respect these sentiments and behave according to them. Steve Waugh had rightly commented that the recent spat between India and Australia over the Harbhajan-Symonds issued needed to be examined from the frame of reference of cultural compatibility. Indian television commentators were arguing that even if Harbhajan had called Symonds a monkey there was nothing wrong in that because in India the monkey is venerated as a divine being. What they failed to realize was that in Australia being called a monkey is an instance of racial abuse. As they say the root of conflicts lies in our inability to appreciate the stand taken by our perceived opponents and it is this ignorance that may cause all games dearly.
It is high time that all governing bodies take a proactive stand in neutralizing any further occurrences of verbal abuse. I did not like it when Zidane butted an Italian player in one of the World Cup finals. But then if his culture regarded one’s inability to respond to taunts about one’s lineage and tribe as a sign of dishonor was it correct on his opponent’s part to provoke him into action, either knowingly or unknowingly? As the world progresses there will be a rise in instances of racial abuse because of our inability to accept inter-racial and inter-cultural mingling. It is necessary for us to examine this in detail and ensure that at least in sport a game is played in all fairness and it is one’s talent, skill, determination and perseverance that decide wars between two sides.

It is lonely at the top

It was an arduous climb up the rocky mountains,
As we negotiated the steep slopes and the hidden crevices,
We were a team of four in that magnificent journey,
The seers had said it would take a lifetime to reach those dizzying heights,
If we scaled the mountains along its southern side,
The Northern Side would take us there in a flash,
But we would find no joy in that climb.

The night before we sat around a fire,
Thinking about the dawn we would see tomorrow,
As the first rays of the fiery sun appeared in the distant horizon,
We pledged on the holy fire – The Southern Side it would be and only death would do us apart.

The journey was long and difficult,
We saw the four seasons a countless number of times,
The cold numbed our fingers and the heat sapped our reservoir of energy,
But every night when we would retire we would sleep in the hope of reaching the top.

There were tigers and hyenas along the way,
That we fought and defeated bravely,
And every time the vultures circling in the sky,
Would return hungry and tired.

The sun would create enchanting mirages,
Of beautiful maidens and exquisite wines,
But the wisdom among us did prevail,
When we saw them sitting atop a monstrous abyss.

The pinnacle was within sight and our energies multiplied,
As we progressed faster than ever before,
But then the arguments broke out,
Who would reach the top first?

We let the sticks decided for us,
And I drew the shortest one,
And then the others said – ‘The Divine One has spoken
It is your turn to be there before us and then bring us up.’





As I set my foot on top of the mountain,
I was numbed by the surge of joy,
The pain in my limbs disappeared and the scars on my hands dissolved at once.
My reverie was broken by the call of my mates,
Who asked me to haul them up,
I gave my hand to one of them and as I touched his flesh,
I felt the bile in my mouth.

I do not know what happened then,
As I left his hand and opened my tattered bag,
From that I drew my grandfather’s scimitar,
And cut the rope that had held us together.

I looked over the edge of the peak,
And saw my mates hurtling towards their death,
When their skulls struck against the stones that we had conquered,
Their eyes and mouths were wide open.

I saw the vultures descend on their bodies,
And feast on them for a fortnight,
Then those vile creatures flew up to me and said,
‘You are our master.’

From that day I have lived on that peak,
All alone with that scimitar,
The vultures tell me of invading parties that have escaped their clutches,
And I stand on the edge of the peak.

I throw giant boulders on the puny men,
The ones from the North disperse easily,
But the Southerners are tough rugged men,
And I enjoy myself as I draw my scimitar,
And chop off those hands that reach out to me.

I have grown old and frail,
A walking mass of bones,
All alone at the top.

My skin is losing its color, but my scimitar shines through the night,
As I look at the red sun in the west, I see a horde of vultures approaching me,
And I say to them – “Oh worst of the avian creatures – It is lonely at the top”
My legs start sagging and my scimitar falls away,
And through the night I see the vultures feasting on my legs,
And before they pierce my eyes with their talons they say –
‘Nay Master – we are here for company.’

The Morning After

‘She looked beautiful in the red zari lined sari that she had bought from a budding designer a few days back. In a week of hectic shopping she had allowed her feminine instincts to take over her heart and had indulged herself with expensive jewelry and waistbands. For a change going out with ma was so much fun. The boardroom meetings that she chaired were not so interesting anymore. She was looking forward to a life of pure marital bliss in New York in the hands of a handsome investment banker, his educational pedigree equal only to her own. She had faint memories of him in IIT and then in IIM where he was a year senior to her, but it was only when they had recently met at a banker’s convention in London that their relationship had grown stronger. In a whirlwind courtship that lasted only a week they explored the highlands of Scotland and visited the castles of England. And they on a cold winter morning while they were savoring a breakfast of fish ‘n’ chips on a restaurant boat on the Thames he took out a glass case in which was the most beautiful diamond ring that she had seen.

As they took their rounds around the golden fire she glanced at his face. His lips were pursed tightly which meant that there was something bothering him. Maybe, she thought, he is wondering if the honeymoon plans are ‘risk free’. She often chided him for his constant preoccupation to ‘derisk’ all important engagements. After the priest had finished chanting all the verses they stood up and walked to take the blessings of the family elders. As she bent down to touch her father-in-law’s feet she saw them moving away from her. As she stood up she found that there was a frown on her father’s face.

After the guests had gone, she waited for him in a room decked with roses and orchids of different colors. She had dreamt of this night for so long – since the time she was read her first M&B .. He soon came into the room, looking a lot disoriented. As he walked towards her she could see his fiery red eyes and smell alcohol in his breath. Before she could say anything she saw a liquid being splashed on her and the only sensation that she could remember before passing out was her skin burning.

The next morning she was woken up by the wails of her parents. Her father told her that her marriage had been annulled since he had not been able to pay the dowry demanded by her husband. Her father had transferred all the money in her back account to her husband but he wanted more. Her to be husband had lost all his financial holdings in the sub prime crisis and he had contacted her father and demanded a hefty dowry failing which he would refuse to marry her.

She looked out of the window and at the morning sun and wept. She had been teased about her ‘morning after’ by her sisters but little did she know that she would be lying on a hospital bed, with a scarred face ,penniless and with aging parents to care for.’

-- Shalini Joseph has just finished recording an interview of Preeti Sharma who has been accused of murdering Nishant Malhotra outside his house in Chandigarh. The case has brought to light the prevalence of dowry even amongst our urban elite and the inability of our society to deal with it.

Animosity

As human beings we are designed to belittle the achievement of others – more so if they are of our peers or subordinates. We are so consumed by our narcissistic tendencies that our ability to appreciate greatness that is achieved by those who exist beyond our sphere of influence diminishes greatly. In the wild, the lion constructs an imaginary boundary around his den and attacks those who dare to enter this domain. Analogous to this, we too construct such boundaries in our minds and dare one cross this, the defensive mechanisms of our body take over. Think of the time when you were questioned on a subject which you consider yourself to be good at? If this question negates what you have said earlier you would most probably put the questioner on your private ‘black list’. You probably will harbor ill will towards him and go to the extent of berating him in public.

Animosity is a defensive mechanism that is embedded in our emotional system. One of the instances when it rears its head is when the subject’s existence is threatened since he considers his locus of being to reside in that object which is under threat. All the religions of the world instruct their followers to overcome this feeling of attachment since it lies at the root of this phenomenon.

Animosity also results when our peers achieve more than we ever dreamt of. The law of karma has a balancing effect since it gives one only what he deserves. Our failure to recognize the importance of this causes us to question the abilities of others and question their integrity and capability.

Another interesting aspect of this emotion is that its origin lies in the achievements of people who we believe are either our peers or our intellectually or physically inferior to us. If the same degree of success is achieved by those who we accept are superior to us it manifests itself in a feeling of awe and admiration. Ergo, our ability to classify people around us as either ‘somebodys’ or ‘nobodys’ is an important criterion in the origin of animosity.

Animosity prevents us from learning and appreciating new schools of thoughts and stunts our intellectual progress. We fail to learn from the good done by others and incorporate relevant changes in our own lives. (Isn’t that ignorance? ).The NIH or the Not Invented Here syndrome is a euphemism for this deep rooted negative energy that resides within us.

Examples: The TATA success story evoked praise from the South Asian press but the American media took potshots at the ‘Nano’. Similarly in the ongoing India-Australia cricket series aggression by the Indians was viewed as being against the spirit of the game whereas the same attitude when displayed by the Australians was classified as ‘hunger to win’.

The Nano

Very rarely do we achieve what we dream of,
And even rarely so do we execute an act that would make the world remember us for when we have departed for the Hades,
I wish I had lived the life of Ratan Tata ,
The proverbial underdog, the one who loved to prove people wrong,
So that I would humbly accept the accolades showered upon me,
And then return to my hearth all alone and look into the fireplace,
And live my life a thousand times.

George Bush Jr. had labeled his saga of retribution in Afghanistan post 9/11 as “Shock and Awe”. But what shocked and awed the world was a work of socio-mechanical engineering envisioned and executed by a band of men owing their allegiance to an inspiring leader. TATA motors and Ratan Tata did the unthinkable – designing a car that would sell for a lakh and yet meet the basic needs of any automobile owner – Quality, Safety, and Environment Friendliness. They say that Ratan Tata was moved by the sight of a family of four riding on a scooter on a rainy day getting drenched and yet braving the inclement weather to reach their destination. They say that Gautam Buddha was moved by the suffering of mankind and when his charioteer could not answer his difficult questions he renounced the pleasures of the royal household and spent years in deep meditation trying to understand the cause of human suffering. Well, Ratan Tata went back home and thought deeply over it and in 2004 announced to the world – ‘My team shall give you a car that costs Rupees One Lakh’. His competitors rubbished him, his critics questioned his mental disposition and the aam aadmi dismissed it as yet another grandiose promise that would remain unfulfilled.

But the man was made of sterner stuff – after all wasn’t he the one who had turned around a loss making NELCO in the 70’s? Wasn’t he the one who had unleashed the Indica from the stables of TATA Motors? The man kept quiet and so did his team. It seemed as if Ratan Tata was fulfilling the great TATA dream of touching the lives of people. In the mid 1990’s there was an advertisement of TATA Steel which showed a family of three holding hands on a beach and - looking into the sea and it simply said – “We also make steel”

Yes, it is too early to write paeans of praise for this unassuming industrialist – but this man has showed that it is it ain’t no wrong to be born in India. The Americans are pissing in their pants – asking themselves ‘Why didn’t we think of this ?”. Come to think of it, after Henry Ford the Americans have not contributed much to the automobile industry. The Japanese lead by Toyota took the battle to America when cheap, reliable and efficient cars almost wiped out the local automobile industry. And then came Ratan Tata ---