Date: 10.1.2012
Venue: Jawahar Lal Nehru Stadium, New Delhi.
Dramatis Personae:
Rudder, Mandakini, Dipyaman, Mehul and I.
And so here we are, at the floodlit, massive, yet curiously lifeless Jawaharlal Nehru Stadium. My first live football match in Delhi, and (OMG!) it’s Bayern Munich! Against India! Bhaichung’s testimonial! Mein Gott, this place is just oozing with occasion…and bored, hair-straightened South Delhi 'party' babes of course. It’s yet another reason to pretend you’re a WAG, show off your thigh-high black leather boots, and scream “Indiyaaaah, Indiyaaaah!” followed by, “Oh No yah, I thought, like, Dhoni would, like, be playing yah!”
It’s all fabulously freaky as white expats jump queues, and cops grope anyone in sight.
And the seats are lovely plastic 1000 rupee affairs, covered with dust and debris left over from the Commonwealth Games. Me, Rudder and Mandakini settle down. No sign of Dipyaman yet as he’s gone far away to park his car.
Anyhoo, there’s loads of paramilitary personnel nearby, so I at least needn’t be scared of Maoists.
But hang on, what are those red hordes on the field? Oh, it’s only Bayern Munich.
The blue ones are India.
And…..we’re off. A huge cheer goes up from the assembled hordes.
4 mins. And first off, I must say I love Bayern goalie Manuel Neuer’s dazzling white jersey. I can see it clearly- though where I’m sitting is closer to the Indian goal- because he’s standing at the half-way mark! Bayern’s playing at a sedentary pace, and oozing menace.
5 mins. India breaks (hoofs the ball in desperation) down the right flank and it comes to nothing.
6 mins. A dazzled yet dogged India are defending so deep that they’re almost inside their own goal. Right now, we have about four goalkeepers. India have, as they say, parked the bus.
8 mins. A clever little back-heel from Mario Gomez lets Arjen Robben in, whose shot is batted off by our goalie Karanjit Singh. Bravo! Then another rare forward punt comes to nothing, as Bhaichung gets the ball and under pressure, has to dribble backwards.
10 mins. Bayern are mostly ambling down their left, giving the ball to Phillip Lahm to cross, and trying not to score an early goal.
Meanwhile, still no sign of Dipyaman, who, as you know, had to park his car.
12 mins. Another nice block from Karanjit. Evidently Bayern’s been paid handsomely to not score goals. I’m going to look for Dipyaman.
14 mins. GOAL! I see Dipyaman and almost run into an AK-47 trying to hail him. The paramilitary guy looks doubtfully at my beard, but figures that having bought a 1,000-rupee ticket, I probably am not Lashkar-e-Taiba. And yeah, well, Mario Gomez walks in a goal.
15 mins. Mandakini wants chips.
17 mins. A nice through-ball from India, but as it came from their own goal mouth, it only reaches Sushil Kumar at the centre-line. Cue a heavy first touch and lot’s of dithering. Cleared.
20 mins. Mandakini’s gone to get chips. Sanjib from CNN-IBN is cracking wise. I can’t hear the words he’s saying, but they’re full of wisdom.
21 mins. Bhaichung is falling to the ground beautifully every time he gets near the ball. He definitely is world class. Meanwhile Bastian Schweinsteiger’s savage shot almost decapitates an Indian defender. An friendly acquaintance, Mehul, is here too, in a leather jacket and three white guys in tow. He says something in Bengali heavily laced with an undifferentiated Brooklyn accent. He got us the tickets, so AR EES ESS PEE EE EEC TEE.
22 mins. Mandakini’s back. She had to abuse two spoilt kids who were abusing the poor chips seller. Karanjit Singh’s not bad, but whenever he tries to launch the ball up-field, he mostly kicks it out to touch. I mean, I’ve seen better football played by our clubs. But at least our football teams love the game better than the filthy lucre. But that’s probably because the cricket team is never going to let them get within sniffing distance of the lucre in the first place. Lot’s of cops guarding four different Audis stationed at the four corners.
23 mins. India gets a free-kick. The squib that comes of it is very damp indeed. Bayern are being made to look like Barcelona. I say tiki, you say taka.
24 mins. A lovely curling shot from Robben on the right narrowly misses the goal. How disappointing. Other than that, Bayern are walking the ball to Karanjit.
25 mins. A rare break! A nice lay-off to Bhaichung ends in him shooting to Row-Z. Dipyaman’s got his hip sneer on. “Evidently Bayern are here to sell Audis,” he smirks. The kill-joy.
27 mins. The boyfriends are waving their Manchester United replica banners, while the girlfriends tweet pictures of their nose-rings. Everybody’s devouring chips. So are we.
29 mins. GOAL! Robben crosses from the left after beating the offside trap and Mueller nods it in apologetically. He then rubs his eyes in disbelief. One less Audi sold.
31 mins. Irritating trio of kids in front of me are more interested in the cars. “Is that a Lam-bo-gini?” “No stoopid, it’s an Audi!” Their father looks at them with pride.
32 mins. A routine save from Karanjit brings a standing ovation. Some sad sacks are half-heartedly trying to start a Mexican wave. Like the tweeters care.
34 mins. A lovely turn and shot from the edge of the Indian penalty box hits the goalpost.
35 mins. Mandakini wishes she could see the players’ tight bums, and longs for a binocular. So do I, for not precisely the same reasons.
37 mins. GOAL! Mueller walks another one in. A stupid, chirpy PA guy shouts, “Don’t lose heart, it’s only 3 love.” Is he getting an Audi too?
40 mins. It’s a good thing that most of the action is happening near where we’re sitting. But I fear for the second half. It’s quite comical how deftly Robben keeps beating the off side trap. A sudden bit of acceleration, and the blue men drop off him like flies. Bayern are playing in first gear.
42 mins. A Bayern free-kick just outside the penalty area. Pushed away by the goalie.
43 mins. GOAL! A lovely curler from Schweinsteiger sails into the top corner. Karanjit had no chance. What a beauty. Like knife through butter.
45 mins. HALF TIME
Mehul wants to grab seats on the other side of the stadium block while people are away buying more chips. We’re non-committal. Meanwhile, Praful Patel, that old cheat (he’s also the head of the AIFF, oh woe) is on hand to smile benignly and give away awards. First one, a player of the year award, to Sunil Chhetri. Rs 2 lakh!? Is this a joke? Then a second one to Bhaichung. Why now? Doesn’t he get to rest at half-time? Oh no, they’re not letting him leave. Now some mook is giving him the keys to an Audi. Good for him, seriously. But why can’t he shower and freshen up? The PA is chattering away inanely. “A final look at our great champion!” says he. “Because he will be assassinated soon,” finishes Rudder. Ooh the sarcasm. Meanwhile, a good looking kid is showing off his pectorals and doing ball skills near us. Mandakini’s drooling. Then Rudder takes a snap of the two of us. Dipyaman stares hard at his Blackberry. He is probably wondering about property portfolios. AR Rehman shrieks ‘Vande Mataram’ from the PA. Sanjib has gone to look for the press box because rumour has it that journos are being fed prawns there. Of course. If Old Trafford can offer prawns, why not JNL?
Finally Bhaichung gets the chance to freshen up. That’s that for Bhutia the performing flea. God the way we treat our sportsmen!
AND the teams line up for the second half. Bhaichung’s playing, which means he got no rest. Hmm. Dangerous knifing victim Franck Ribery’s on. For India, Climax Lawrence is on, along with Subhashish Roy Chowdhury who replaces Karanjit under the bar. The Indians huddle, Bhaichung is talking to the rest excitedly.
We’re off.
46mins. Bhaichung tries to tackle Neuer, whose jersey is still spotless.
47 mins. The Indian No.7 is playing in the heart of defence. That’s radical thinking from the Indian coach! He gives the ball away to a hulking Bayern man, not sure who, who passes it back to Subhashish. I think Bayern have been told to be gracious in victory.
50 mins. India’s playing a high-pressing game, which means that they’re defending outside their own box. No mean feat that.
52 mins. Corner to India! At least in that department we now lead 1-0. In a mismatch like this, you take what you can get.
53 mins. The corner-taker hits the ball to a Bayern outfield player. Cue laughter.
55 mins. One of the kids in front looks around and says, “ That bird can see this match for free!” with great sincerity. Yes kid, the bird can.
58 mins. Coming from a city that boasts of such behemoth stadiums as Eden Gardens and the Salt Lake stadium, this lifeless 1,20,000-seater stadium looks strange to me. Must be something about the design, because there must be easily at least some 30,000 people here. And despite the noise, it looks emptier than it is.
60 mins. Bhaichung feints nicely a couple of times and sets up a one-two. But the return pass is so weak that it is easily snuffed out.
62 mins. Studs-up challenge on a Bayern player on the centre-line. A yellow card whoopee! India 1- 0 Bayern.
65 mins. India’s lead in the corners department is wiped out, because now Bayern have a corner of their own. The ball ricochets around in the box, before a stinging shot brings a fab save from Subhashish.
66 mins. Bhaichung falls after being hustled off the ball, and hauls down his tackler by grabbing his ankle. Cue applause. The Bayern free-kick results in another great shot from Schweinsteiger which brings another great save from Subhashish. That guy’s good.
68 mins. This is getting boring. I guess Bayern are not going to score any more. They recently put some 13 goals past Qatar, and they’re a much better team than us. But then, Qatar isn’t an emerging economy like India. And Bayern are here to sell Audis.
70 mins. Climax Lawrence dribbles nicely and loses his marker. He draws a foul and a free kick some 40 yards from goal. Everyone chants “Indiaaaaah, Indiaaah!” The ball sails over.
74 mins. India are battling gamely against opponents playing in their sleep. They’re also falling over as soon as they get the ball.
75 mins. Bayern ring in the changes. Robben, Lahm and Mueller are off, and some youth team guys are on. The three small boys in front are mauling each other. Mandakini leans over and whispers loudly, “These kids are totally gay for each other!” The father hears her and sternly tells them to sit down. Dipyaman says, “Boka bachcha.”
77 mins. Another attempt on goal from India, but as I knew, it sailed over the crossbar. Disinterested Bayern or not, India is definitely trying. So no point in being churlish. Dipyaman takes his mind off his imminent cross-continental Blackberry meeting on, you guessed it, property portfolios, to say, “Mama, India are getting close.” They are.
78 mins. They show a tense looking Indian coaching staff on the screen. Mandakini says, “Look, Chunkey Pandey!”
79 mins. Appeals for a handball against Bayern. Not from the players, but from the audience. Dipyaman keeps up his new-found patriotic streak. “Oder box’e amader paaye ball; kono kotha hobe na.” (We’re in their box and we’ve got the ball. No talk will be happening [not really, but it’s an appreciative statement])
80 mins. India’s right-back, who is having a superb second-half makes a fine sliding tackle. The kid on the left tells the kid in the middle, “I will keeeel you.” They both giggle. Meanwhile the crowd have fallen silent. The South Delhi babes are checking their Blackberries for the next party. So is Dipyaman.
81 mins. Everyone’s lost interest. “Will you be unhappy if we leave now?” Mandakini asks. “I will decide,” is Rudder’s Surrealist masterpiece of an answer.
82 mins. India 2-1 Bayern! Another corner thanks to some good work by Bhaichung and cohorts down the left wing….which comes to nothing. Yawn. Then a nice volley from India’s No.10 bounces off Bhaichung. This is pretty revolutionary. India has brought Bayern down to their level. They are all kicking around aimlessly around the centre circle. And then a sight to gladden the hearts of Bayern’s domestic opponents. Someone stamps on Schweinsteiger’s foot.
83 mins. Dipyaman’s been standing at the top of the aisle with his phone glued to his ears. Fine, now we’re leaving. It’s been fun people, and hurray for Audi. Any last words? Hang on, we just got a shot on target. Neuer’s jersey is slightly spotty now. Fabulous, what more can one ask for? Adieu Bhaichung!
After three frenzied days of Delhi parties (the sangeet-where people predictably went apeshit; the wedding- which was solemn and beautiful; and the reception- which was a dope-fuelled surreal fest); the action shifted to Calcutta. Now most of the dramatis personae were drifting towards the home base anyway, and the wedding juggernaut only provided extra impetus. And so I 
The Arts Department fest (Sannskriti) was going on just as we’d landed, and the timing couldn’t have been more perfect. There was the general air of festivities to add to the buzz, and the buzz was great. Man, it would be impossible to even try and narrate all that was done, and seen and experienced. Some things stand out.
A word on the bride- Mandakini looked insanely pretty throughout, and spent a good part of that week drunk. Absolutely gorgeous. 
Though, I’ve decided, that was one wedding enough for this year. I’m going to no more. They give me the heebie jeebies!
How could a Cal visit be fulfilling without them?! I yearned for them through those two weeks.
were great, doing a fantastic job of spinning their funk-rock grooves….had me jumping in the aisles.
and Lost Highway. I love his stuff, and it’ll take an entire post to say exactly what and why. Saw all the main Oscar movies too, starting with Michael Clayton, and moving onto There Will Be Blood (what a soundtrack!), Sweeny Todd and No Country For Old Men on DVD. I think I need to see Blood and Old Men again. Stuff I need to sort out. They didn’t exactly come across as great movies! I’ve been going on a movie bender. Apart from the movies I saw for reviewing in the magazine, there’s also been chestnuts like Clerks, The Leningrad Cowboys Do America and my all-time favourite, Picnic At Hanging Rock. Saw Juno with Smriti. She was a lot of fun...Juno somehow wasn't.
I knew her long ago, when I first came to Delhi, and was working as an intern at Miditech, the production house. Didn’t really speak much then, but it was cool. Then I quit, and she disappeared…till last year, when she collared me on Orkut and asked me how I was. We’ve been chatting since then, mostly online…and its like I’ve known her forever. Well, she came down to Delhi for a whirlwind visit. In my usual brilliant way I kept promising I would meet her, and invariably get waylaid by either work or women, pissing her off no end. But we met finally, she came to my office. Then to my place and dinner at Flaming Wok (with horrible coolers!) after which I dropped her to her friend’s house in Saket. Through it all we talked and we talked, and then we talked some more. Sometimes, with the right people, you just have so much to say. Met her again for a brief drink the next day. Finally the day before she left for Benaras, I went and visited her at DU. She studied there, and like me, loves the feeling of being in a campus. I’ve never really been to that part of town, so Jyoti took it upon herself to show me around….the beautiful tree-lined avenues of DU (where bigotry, in the form of a massive no-smoking zone has reared its ugly head), the alleys of Kamla Nagar, cycle rickshaws ferrying the young and the academic…finally we settled down in a lovely old courtyard in the Arts Fac (as she called it) and talked again. Then we went looking for tea. It was lovely, she was wonderful.
The people looked solemn, but at peace. Some groups of kids were laughing and joshing around, others rushing about busily organising stuff. Loads of journalists, including freelance photographers from publications as diverse as Paris Flash and The New York Times. There were our own tv news channels and all the shallow poseurs that come with them. Thankfully, they weren’t hogging the limelight as they're wont to. The protest run came in three waves, as I sat with a group of elderly Tibetan women- momo sellers from Majnu Ka Tila (or Little Tibet)- and joked about journalists and Aamir Khan. Madness ensued once the speeches started. Mostly it was empty rhetoric. I just wished and hoped that the Tibetans got their say. Look at it this way- this is about them, not about self-promoting NGOs and politicians, and definitely not about Bollywood stars. I left once that geezer George Fernandes started railing against the Congress (!!) for some reason! It was heady feeling. “Summer’s here and the time is right for fighting in the streets boy!”
