Saturday, September 26, 2009

More dreams

I have a problem with dreams/nightmares, in that I rarely have any. And when I do have a dream, its invariably one of two genres - An action adventure with me as the protagonist or just about me floating in the air/flying.

So yesterday I read a post on a friend's blog about some strange dream she had, and predictably enough, I had a dream yesterday night. And what was it about? An action adventure on the lines of "The Mummy". I find a secret entrance to an elaborate labyrinth of subterranean passages underneath my Engineering College. And it turns out that it houses priceless antiquities from a bygone era, while also serving as the headquarters of an ancient secret society/cult whose members are adept at paranormal practices. And I have gripping encounters with these guys and finally manage to save the day. I actually woke up with the muscles in my limbs taut, as would happen if I had been watching a gripping movie. I really should've penned it all down while I still remembered every detail of my paranormal thriller dream, because now I remember little outside the broad plot outline.

Note to self: Read more about people's dreams, dream more often and along exciting storylines. And get it all down and documented. Who knows, it could well be the next big book/movie/merchandise franchise, a la a certain Monsieur Potter. I need to find a good ghostwriter soon. And I'm thinking Akshay Kumar, Katrina Kaif and Irrfan Khan for the movie franchise.

Saturday, August 08, 2009

Different strokes

Two different encounters with strangers.

The first, while on a nature trail in Maharashtra. A retired army officer who was part of the group, asks me politely - "Are you a HR manager somewhere?". I nod my "No", and ask him what made him think that. And he responds - "You have that air of calm and wisdom about you. That is something I have noticed with people who deal with other people a lot"

The second, closer to home, when I was resting on the park bench after my daily jog. Another uncle who was also perambulating the same trail, stopped and asked me - "Are you an author?". Again, I nod my disagreement and ask him why he felt what he felt. He responds - "You seemed to be in deep contemplation, so I thought maybe you are an author or something, thinking about your work". To put things in a bit of perspective, I was wearing bright orange and blue running tees, shorts and running shoes.

A couple of unusual encounters. Wonder why people associate the intellectual tag with anyone wearing glasses...

Wednesday, July 15, 2009

So long, Freddie

Flintoff to retire from Test Cricket

Hmm... What took you so long, Freddie? You should have "listened to your body" as soon as you signed that million pound contract with the Chennai Super Kings.

Now your sudden decision will be the only reason why the Pommies will lose disgracefully to an Aussie team whose entire bowling attack is making an Ashes debut.

I cannot help recalling what Krish Srikkanth wrote about you when you came onto the scene in '98. He said -
" Andrew Flintoff is being compared to the great Ian Botham so soon after he has burst onto the scene. He is nowhere near the class of Botham and will not have a cricketing record anywhere near Botham's by the time he is done"
- or something to that effect.
I thought that was a bit harsh at the time, but the stats speak for themselves. To quote Vince Lombardi,
" The difference between a successful person and others is not a lack of strength, not a lack of knowledge, but rather in a lack of will."

I thought that the ability was never lacking; what was missing was the desire and the will. The desire to become a genuine all-rounder who can turn a game with either bat or ball. That is what Ian Botham could do. And what Imran Khan modelled himself to be, towards the end of his career. But you were never a serious threat with the bat. The temperament to concede the bowler a good spell, and guts it out in the middle, was rarely on display. And just like Kapil Dev, you were content to be considered a bowling-allrounder; batting was just some fun in the middle.

And, if u really considered yourself a bowler first, and a fast bowler at that, you never showed the discipline and professionalism to take care of the body. If you had listened to your body more often, you might atleast have prolonged your lucrative T20 career a bit more. ( Maybe that is the cunning plan now? ) And also avoided embarrassing comparisons to used automobiles.

Saturday, June 27, 2009

Indian Stock Markets - an analysis of the analysts

Statutory warning/disclaimer: All characters appearing below are fictitious. They are not modeled after any real world individuals. Even if they are, I am not admitting that here. But they are not. Though their names might rhyme with some real world characters with same surnames. That's just a coincidence. God promise.

Scene: Studio of CNBC-TV18, India's premier business channel. 11:00 IST on a normal trading day in the markets. The anchor, one of the few on Indian television with a stable emotional quotient, is running a phone-in investment advisory show. The advisors on the show are the heavyweights of Indian Investing, each with his/her own unique methodology. The heavy lingo is subtexted and parenthesized for the layperson where appropriate.


Udayan Mukherji : Markets are moving sideways today, and might remain range-bound until the news flows consolidate and the new momentum leaders emerge.
( stocks are moving up and down. Some are moving up and some are moving down. I have no clue why, but I am sure that some stocks will continue to move up and down and I dare you to prove me wrong. )

Lets take a caller now. Please go ahead with your question now, ma'am.

Unsuspecting Caller : Sir, I have bought 1000 stocks of Super Hit Info Tech Ltd at 500Rs each. Now the stock is trading at 20Rs. What should I do?

(The correct answer to this question would be - "You got screwed. It happens to most clueless investors in the stock markets. Accept that reality and move on to better things in life". But the "experts" couldn't say that. )


Lotmany Gujral: If u look at the stock curve for SHIT Ltd, you will see a pattern emerging. The 30 day moving average dropped from 36 to 24. If it rises to 36, it will form a typical Pamela Anderson pattern. This pattern indicates large volumes and rapid rise not based on fundamentals. One may ride this upsurge to book large profits.
(Technical Analysis, Shmechnical Analysis. I have no clue. Never had one. Anyway, why are you even asking me? I've never got a prediction right in my life. Wait! Shit, this is my livelihood and I am too unfit for any physical labour! I take that all back. Technical Analysis rules. Please keep calling me back on this channel. )


Bhayankar Sharma: Look, it doesnt matter if you are running downhill inside a speeding train which is moving uphill. The fact of the matter is, India is in a secular long term bear market interspersed with brief stints of bull runs. Look what happened with JP Associates. It was once at 1000 levels and now its languishing at 200 levels.
( What makes you think that I will answer a question, any question? I reserve the right to express a tangential opinion on broad macro economics, which I understand better than anyone else. Especially after the event. And I hate the fact that I missed out on the JP Associates story. Damn those bulls! I love myself. I think I might even be in love with myself. I am one sexy stud. Did I trim my moustache right today? )


Amir Arora: Udayan, at the end of the day, the market is always right. The only thing that matters is how much money you took off the table. IT sector is experiencing strong headwinds, but who is to say that they wont reinvent themselves?
( Did I just break my streak of answering every question with some metaphysical mumbo jumbo? Or worse, did I actually give out any real stock recommendations? Guess not... Its all good. )


Rock-esh TunTunwala: I don't think this SHIT ltd is an attractive investment. There are much better investments at current levels. Look at the numbers for Global Soft, it's in the same space, but has a high growth trajectory and cash on books. Its trading at an attractive P/E multiple of 200. Who am I to judge fundamentals? Market is always right.
( I don't own a stake in SHIT Ltd. I do have a stake in Global Soft. That's the only fundamental that matters. I rock, bcos my name is rockesh. )

More Chuck Norris facts

There's been a spate of Chuck Norris facts all around me; email forwards, twitter updates, facebook status'es... Couldnt resist making some up :)

- Nobody knows Chuck Norris' blood group... because nobody ever made Chuck Norris bleed.

- Chuck Norris doesn't carry a credit card, he always pays by Chuck.

- Chuck Norris doesn't need a deodorant; he never breaks a sweat.

- Chuck Norris doesn't use a search engine; he knows where everything is.

- Chuck Norris doesnt use any mode of transport; he just leaps and the earth rotates till his destination is beneath him.

- God created Hell so that the baddies could relax after being thrashed by Chuck Norris.

- Lions weren't endangered; until they got into an argument with Chuck Norris about who has better facial hair.

- The earth doesnt rotate; Chuck Norris uses it as a treadmill.

- There are no donkeys in the US; they all know that Chuck Norris likes to whoop some ass.

- When Chuck Norris is in The Matrix, he's not The One; he's The Only One.

- Volcanoes are a myth; sometimes Chuck Norris has too much baked beans.

Sunday, May 17, 2009

You pretty wing thing


P1060038_mod
Originally uploaded by mohanvee
There she is... the finest thing on the wing I knows... A black-winged kite.

Friday, April 24, 2009

Fake player, real rumors

The insider's view

This blog has been catching on like wildfire in the past few days. At the moment of writing this, there are more followers of this blog than spectators at the 1 PM matches of the IPL.

There have been privately commissioned investigations to uncover the fiend who is washing the Knight Riders' laundry in public. ( It's besides the point that very few self-respecting individuals would want to be seen washing their classy black-and-gold laundry in public ) This fact, in itself, seems to confirm that the author has access to insiders of the KKR camp. It is a fair assumption that the author isn't himself one of the team members - there's too much at stake for the players, especially those of KKR, who are mostly fringe players.

Besides some inside dirt from the KKR camp though, its mostly old wine in new bottles. Most of the personality stereotypes that are reaffirmed, were already known or atleast strongly suspected by those of us who follow the game closely. Kishan Kanhaiya's womanizing ways are the stuff of legends for over 2 decades now. Lordie's aversion for physical exertion and his snooty ways too are well known and well-documented in the media; well, Australian and British media anyways. Also, Lordie's inexplicable preference for Kaan Moolo has been fiercely debated amongst ourselves over the last decade. The explanation progressed from regionalism in team selection to homosexual connotations as our world-view expanded over time. As for Appam Chutiya and Patiala Prince, the author seems to be venting his personal prejudices into these characters of the plot.

In any case, its good fun when taken with the necessary pinch of salt, and I hope the fun and games continue. Personally, I am looking forward to more dirt about the standoff between the coach, the current and former captains and the franchise owner... Cricket and Bollywood, what an idea sirjee!

Wednesday, April 22, 2009

Bird on the balcony

Alright, I admit... I've been guilty in the past of boasting about the birds that I've sighted from my balcony... the hitlist includes the Golden Oriole, Rose-ringed Parakeet, Shikra & Asian Koel. Still, I was quite unprepared for what happened a couple of days back.

It was a normal evening, and after a hectic schedule of switching channels on the telly, I stepped out into the balcony to get some fresh air... And there's this massive Brown Kite sitting in the balcony. Ten feet away from me. I've seen cobras a couple of feet from my eye, but this was still quite unnerving. Size does matter I guess. Also, the inch long talons, the hooked beak and the beady eyes staring straight into mine.

After a few seconds of gathering my wits, I rushed to get my cam and get some documentation shots of the nocturnal visitor; it was twilight time when this happened. Now the difficult part - driving this dude away. I tried to shoo him, but it seemed like he was old, semi-blind and hard of hearing. He just ignored me. Even when I approached as close as five feet. And I wasn't brave enough to venture any closer. Next I brought out a pole and tried intimidation. He spread out his wings... all five feet of them, and I slunk away humbly. Onto the next tactic - water. Sprinkling a few glasses of water on him elicited an unusual reaction. He spread out his wings and seemed to welcome the cooling shower!

The situation obviously called for the heavy armoury to be unleashed. Back I came with a big bucketful of water and started bombarding him. He took the first few blows manfully in the chest, but the fifth and sixth rounds knocked him off the balcony and he landed awkwardly on the tarmac. It seemed like he was either injured or old or purblind, since he didnt make any efforts to fly away. Instead, he walked (like a vulture) with dignity and positioned himself behind my car, seriously freaking out a couple of dogs lying there. The dogs, who have no problem chasing cars, looked nervously at this dude, unsure whether to attack or retreat. He spread out his wings and hopped towards them, and they retreated, leaving him alone for the rest of the night. My mom tells me that another kite came in the morning and escorted this guy out safely.

A very unusual experience, but somehow I find such close encounters with animals almost spiritual.

Saturday, February 21, 2009

The Bang goes out of Bangalore...

My good friend, Pavitra, sent me this email a few days back... And its both shocking and depressing. On the one hand, there is an easy way out... that of turning completely cynical about the "system", and basically re-arranging your life to avoid such situations... But on the other hand, there is the sinking feeling in the gut that tomorrow it could happen to someone you care about... Because like someone said when asked "How did things reach such a stage?"... "Progressively, by degrees"

If well-connected and affluent individuals cannot seek recourse via enforcement agencies, what chance does a normal individual stand? My first feeling is of helplessness, but I really want to do my bit to make things better... How? I dont know yet...

Here's the email pasted verbatim...

---------------------------------------------
Made my blood boil and sad at the same time ...

---------- Forwarded message ----------
From: Sapna Venu Gopal
Date: Feb 15, 2009 1:23 PM
Subject: Read this...and please forward it to everyone you know
To: fernsresidency@yahoogroups.com


Dear all
Please do forward this mail to everyone you know - I ask this not only as a woman and a citizen of India, but also as a mother , since one of the women beaten up by goons and had to courage to sit the whole night and day at the police station till the complaint was accepted is my daughter, and I am proud of her ! They need all the support they can get, since they are up against goons with no scruples and plenty of political clout !

Regards
Jaya


Millionaire slumdogs and how things change.... (read this, for you may have a role to play!) Yes, everything changes.

The fantastic invisible sweep of time rushes and roars past us every dull and intense second that ticks relentlessly away every day, and all around us things constantly morph. Twin towers crumble, good people die, the good earth turns brown and bare, and old love fades.
And what precisely is your role in the incredible kaleidoscope of change?
A slack-jaw by-stander who barely registers the impact and implications?
A commentator spectator who freely critiques but somehow rises above being affected by it all?
A fatalist loser who bemoans everything and blames it all on circumstances and other people?
Look around you, you who reside in the so-called mind and knowledge capital of the shining new India. This is Bangalore. Many of the quiet avenues that used to snake through the wooded shades and fragrant flower-scatters of a thousand gulmohars, flames of the forest, bougenvillias and silver oaks are now shorn of even a single blade of grass, their tar guts upturned by mammoth earth moving equipment, tortured sites full of grime, steel and concrete through which an endless procession of loud vehicles crawl back and forth, utterly indisciplined, frothing with impotent anger and frustration, from the early dusty dawns to the midnight hours, every single day. We are the victims, you say? The civic governance of Bangalore is sub standard, you claim? Well, you may be right, but does that mean that even as an individual citizen whose real powers to influence matters is way less than what it theoretically should be, we have absolutely nothing to do?

I am re-thinking this premise, my friend. Unfortunately not a self realization case, but prompted by a black incident last Friday, 6th February, 2009. And this time it was not about aspects that affect your life and mine indirectly. It wasn't the death of yet another 100+ year old tree. It wasn't another instance of criminal neglect of any civic infrastructure. It wasn't road rage. It was a kick in the groin. Literally. And it woke me up all right. So, in brief, this is how the drama unfolded:

A few of my friends and I were just paying our bills and coming out of our regular Friday night watering hole and dinner place in Rest House Road, just off Brigade Road, and most of the women in the company were already standing outside. Some of us outside were smoking, people were happy, there was laughter and jokes, as there were many other people in the
street, all coming out, satiated, in the closing hour of the various pubs and restaurants around. Suddenly from up the street a massive SUV comes revving and speeding,
hurtling down, and stops in a scream of brakes and swirling dust, millimeters away from this group of 4 women, barely missing one of their legs. A white Audi, imported, still under transfer, with the registration plate of KA-51 TR-2767. Some millionaire's toy thing, that in the wrong hands can kill. Naturally the women are in shock. And quickly following the shock comes indignation. These are self made women running their own businesses, managing state responsibilities for global NGO firms, successful doctors. They are not used to being bullied. So they turn around, instead of shrinking back in fear. They protest. And as soon as they turn around in protest, the car doors are flung open, and a stream of 4-5 rabid men run out towards these women, screaming obscenities in Hindi and Kannada against women in general, fists flailing. Some of us who came in running at the sound of the screaming brakes now stand in the middle in defense of our women, and then blows start raining down. One of the goons make a couple of calls over the cellphone, and in seconds a stream of other equally rabid goondas land up. They gun straight for the women, and everyone – a few well-meaning
bystanders, acquaintances who know us from the restaurant, basically everyone who tries to help the women – starts getting thoroughly beaten up.
Women are kicked in the groin, punched in the stomach, slapped across the face, grabbed everywhere, abused constantly. Men are smashed up professionally, blows aimed at livers, groins, kidneys and nose. A friend is hit repeatedly on the head by a stone until he passes out in a flood of blood. A plain-clothes policeman (Vittal Kumar) who saunters in late stands by watching and urging people to stop, but doing absolutely nothing else. A 'cheetah' biker cop comes in, with our women pleading him to stop this madness, but he refuses action, saying a police van will come in soon and he cannot do anything. Everyone keeps getting hammered. Relentlessly. The carnage continues for over 20 minutes. Finally when the police van does come in it is this vandals who are raging and ranting, claiming to be true "sons of the
Kannadiga soil", and we are positioned to be the villainous outsiders, bleeding, outraged. How do the cops believe them, especially seeing the bloody faces of our men and the
violated rage of our women, while they carry nary a scratch on their bodies? Don't ask me! Yet, it is us who these goondas urge the newly arrived law-keepers to arrest, and the police promptly comply, and we are bundled into the van, some still being beaten as we are pushed in. Some blessed relief from pain inside the police van at least, even if we are inside and
the real goons outside, driving alongside in their spanking white Audi. The guy who was hit by the stone is taken separately by the women to Mallya hospital. Inside the police station at Cubbon Park it becomes clear that these goons and the police know each other by their first names. The policeman in charge (Thimmappa) initially refuses to even register any complaint from me, on the purported grounds that I am not fluent in Kannada and I have taken a few
drinks (3 Kingfisher pints, to be precise) over the evening. No, it doesn't matter that I didn't have my car and was not driving, and no, it doesn't mater that the complaint will be written in English. We watch them and the goons exchange smiles and nods with our our bloodied and
swelling eyes and realize in our pain-clouded still-in-shock brains the extent of truth in the
claim of one of the main goons when he claimed earlier in the evening in virulent aggression: we own this town, this car belongs to an MLA, we will see how you return to this street!!
This was the turning point of the saga, I guess. For we refused to lie down quietly and be victims. One of our girls, a vintage and proud Bangalorean who is running one of the
town's most successful organic farming initiatives, took upon herself to write the complaint, when I was not allowed to write the same. Another Bangalore girl, a state director of a global NGO firm, wrote the other molestation complaint separately on behalf of all the girls. Some of us called our friends in the media and corporate world. Everyone stepped up. And even when the odds were down and we were out, we did not give up, and as a singular body of violated citizens we spoke in one voice of courage and indomitable spirit. That voice had no limitation of language, not Kannada, nor English, or Hindi. It was the voice of human spirit that cannot be broken. And in the face of that spirit, for the first time, we saw the ugly visage of vandalism, hiding behind the thin and inadequate veil of political corrupt power, narrow-vision regionalism and self-serving morality, start to wilt. We spent 6 hours next day in the police station. The
sub-inspector of police who filed our FIR, Ajay R M, seemed a breath of fresh air inasmuch
that he did not appear a-priori biased like others, even though the hand of corruption and politico-criminal power backing these goons was still manifest in many ways: a starched, white-linen power-broker walked in handing over his card to the sub-inspector in support of
the goons; the goons got an audience with the Inspector because of this intervention, while
we had to interact one level lower down in the hierarchy; the plains cloth policeman of last night, even though he had arrived far too late in the crime scene, gave a warped statement, passing it off as a "neutral" point of view, repeatedly stressing that we came out of a pub and hence were drinking, positioning this as a 'drunken brawl', while completely forgetting to mention the unprovoked attack against the women and the one-sided vandalism and violence that ensued. I guess one cannot blame the low ranked police officer – the criminal connections of these goons must be pervasive enough for him to be careful.
Thanks however to the impartial handling of the situation by Ajay, soon the goons were all
identified. The lead actor was one Ravi Mallaya (38), a real estate honcho and owner of a small property off Brigade Road which he has converted into a "gaming" (you know what that means, don't you?) adda. The others identified are Mohan Basava (22) of Chamarajapet 12th Cross, R. Vijay Kumar Ramalingaraju (25) and Shivu Rajashekar (20). All are residents of 12th & 13th Cross in Vyalikaval. Their bravado and machismo were by that time evaporated. It was good to see their faces then. Of course nothing much happened to them, nor did we expect it. They were supposed to be in lock up for at least the weekend till they were produced in court, but we understand that they were quickly released on (anticipatory?) bail. The car, purportedly belonging to an MLA, also does not figure in the FIR, apparently for reasons of "irrelevance to the case".The media also have given us fantastic coverage and support so far, strengthening the cause. The goons meanwhile, as an after thought, also filed the customary reverse commplaint on the morning after we filed our own complaint: the women have apparently scratched the car! (Why did they not file the complaint the same night, considering they came to the Police Station in the same car? Why was the car allowed to be taken off police custody? Why is the car still irrelevant to the case and not in the FIR? Questions..
questions..).
Is this the end of this saga? Probably not. Are these women, more precious to us as friends and wives than most things in our lives, safe to walk or drive down Brigade Road from now on or are the goonda elements, slighted by this arrest and disgrace, are lying in ambush, waiting, biding their time to cause some of us more grievous harm? We don't know. Is there reason for us to remain apprehensive of future attacks and victimization? Perhaps. But here is the point.
We stood up. We believed in the power of individual citizens even in the face of hooliganism, intolerance, corruption and power mongering. Even though many of us have the option of leveraging political or government connections, we deliberately chose to fight this battle as individuals. Sure, these connections have been activated and they have been kept informed, should the worst case scenario unfold tomorrow. But we have chosen to not leverage them. And in every small win we register as a group of individual outraged citizens of Bangalore and India, however insignificant these milestones may be in the larger scheme of things, there is one small notch adding up in favor of what is right, one small notch against what is wrong. And we believe that every such small notch counts, each such mark is absolutely invaluable.
It is the people who make this city, this country, this world. It is you and I, as much as the terrorists inside and outside. And in our small insignificant little ways, it is my responsibility and yours to not shirk from investing effort – not just lip service or any token attempt, but real
effort – in backing up what we ourselves believe in. It is so easy to logically argue that everything is corrupt, nothing is worth it, there are so many risks involved. We must not fall trap to this escapist trend. We must not fail to try. Next time you feel outraged, violated, abused, don't let it go by and add up to your list of litanies and complaints. Stand up and take
it to the limit - at least your own limit. Not in the same way as they wrong you, but in the
way that every citizen, at least in theory, is entitled to complain and protest. Do not let the hooligans power rant scare you or prompt you into submission. Do not allow the corrupt cop make you give up trying. Carry the flame forward. Try harder. If are up to it, start right now.

Forward this note to everyone you want to be made aware of this. Post it in your own blogs. Talk about it amongst your circles. And if anyone of you should like to step forward with a word of empathy or advise, talk to me. Comment.

It is not Bangalore that is going to the dogs. It is us. We have far too long become accustomed to let everything go. And the more we let things go without any protest or fight, the dormant criminal and dark elements of the society get that much more encouraged. Every time we turn the other way, the hooligan next street gets incentivized to push the boundary
a little further, provoke a little more, try something a little more atrocious. It is time for us to refuse to let this go on. We are responsible for making ourselves proud. Lets believe in ourselves. We can do this.

Regards
Suresh.

---------------------------------------------

Gowda, tussi great ho!

Deve Gowda's blog on IBNLive

The "son of the soil" image must be in serious turmoil... This seems like an effort to broaden his electorate base; because it seems very unlikely to me that his bread and butter( or should I say ragi muddey) voter base, ie the farmers, are internet-savvy enough to follow his blog.

Sadly though, what he has to say on the blog is neither new nor unintentionally funny.

Gowda shaking off "Son of the soil" image... BJP shaking off "Hindutva" image... Recession hitting my local chaat store ( he hiked prices from around Rs 7 to Rs 12 )

We are indeed living in interesting times... What are we going to see next? Barkha Dutt taking up Mouna-Vrat and ISI taking responsibility for cross-border terrorism?

Sunday, January 25, 2009

The Sehwag syndrome

"I try to hum songs, bhajans, Sai Baba bhajans, Kishore Kumar songs, especially those pictured on Amitabh Bachchan, till the bowler is about to deliver. I try to sing songs as perfectly as possible in order to keep my mind completely uncluttered."

...and thats how its done! Sehwag makes it sound so deceptively simple, and yet it couldnt be that simple. After 80-odd centuries, a Tendulkar still gets nervous in the 90s, and a Dravid who has 10,000 runs still finds it tough to break a poor run of form. Perhaps therein lies the problem and the solution. Adam Gilchrist once said that a sportsperson should just trust his/her instincts and not get too intellectual about the game. The likes of Dravid & Tendulkar tend to do just that, and this I believe limits their game. For instance, Sachin premeditates a single when hes on 99, every single time... and as often happens, he is caught in two minds if he gets a boundary ball. Also, the fact that one is close to a milestone, distracts, and that little bit of loss of focus is sometimes enough to bring about one's downfall.

On the other hand, the Inzamams, Gilchrists and Sehwags have rarely let milestones or game situations bother them enough to alter their natural game. For a cricketer, the next delivery is everything; of course, some amount of strategy is necessary, to gather an inkling of the bowler's gameplan for instance, but that is part of a sportsman's instinct which one automatically acquires with experience. That being a given, he might be better served by letting his natural instincts take over...

Cricket in particular, seems to be a sport which lends itself to a lot of intellectual indulgence... the assorted coaches - batting, bowling, fielding, mental conditioning, the managers, the commentary teams with elaborate pre/in/post match analyses, the resident media experts, statisticians who make careers out of knowing obscure historical facts, fancy terms such as "mental disintegration" & "reverse swing"... it is easy for a cricketer to get distracted and lose sight of the reality - It is just a game and a cricketer is just an entertainer, not a soldier defending his country's honor, nor creating a piece of history for posterity.

And humming Kishore Kumar songs seems to be a good way to keep the mind uncluttered, and let the instincts unfettered to go forth and entertain! After all, you cant argue with two triple hundreds... As for the likes of Tendulkar/Dravid, a humble suggestion - learn some Himesh numbers; most are already mind-numbing, so thats half the job done !