Good Day!

Today is a good day. There are many reasons why today is a good day. And no, I am not going to tell you why today is a good day. After all, one cannot go about wasting good blog space on telling the world why today is a good day. Nevertheless, I have decreed that today is a good day and you, my unfaithful blog readership, must abide by my decree. Ermm...please?

Right, so where were we. Yes -- Thursday, March 12th, a good day. Not brilliant, not fantastagorical or crackjackaboombastic. Please don't ask me what they mean because that would mean taxing my creative chi and explaining why I suddenly found Shaggy crawling into an adjective. Hmm...you know what? I think my resolve is weakening a little and I'm leaning towards sharing the source of my happiness with you -- a lot like a 20ninetwenty9 addict clutching a pack of cards and hurtling towards people seated in a circle.

Right so, there are many, many reasons why today is a good day. First of all, I have managed to fix my computer without having to cart it all the way to other end of the planet, that is, the shop they call Supreme in Chandni. Supreme is a self-contained universe of computer bits and bobs and is populated by the descendants of The White Rabbit. Not to mention, Supreme has its own Hades in an underground basement where scores of zombies assemble and test your computer parts. Interestingly, an army of Charon clones ply between Supreme and Hades for the purpose of transporting your computer parts. And what? No boat? No ride? Certainly not! You will have to just get off your high horse and do the walky walky.

As you can see, I don't much like visiting either joint -- specially Hades. I got stuck there recently 3 days in a row because I was helping this friend of mine replace a portable hardisk. By the way, if you're planning to buy a portable hardisk, a word of advice -- steer clear of Maxtor. If you already own a Maxtor, feel free to vent your ire in the comments section. The Seagate Freeagent is brilliant and largely trustworthy, despite being a leeetol beet more expensive. But I'd rather have a hardisk that did its job rather than buying one that needed to be coaxed, cajoled and finally full formatted to get going again. @#!$!@$!!!!!

As you can see, I can't stick to my original line of thought and so I have come to the conclusion that I share my narrative style with a host of kooks including Virginia Woolf. Stream of consciousness, anyone? Well, in my case, its more like stream of waffle.

Coming back, my computer had been acting up over the past few days. The sound was hiccuping, gargling, digitizing, nose cleaning and yoddling...in that order. No, really. I was getting a little brainfried because I was worried that my motherboard was going to need a replacement. It was in the warranty period, but -- Hades! Brrggh! So I first decided to format and reinstall my operating system to check if it was a software glitch. Thankfully, it worked and now I can listen to Robbie Williams sing 'Sexed Up' without the unwanted frills. *pats on the back*

Hmm, its been a while since I've waffled this much. Ooooh! I think I'll waffle a little more. Go away if you can't bother reading the inane dribble. But you still won't know all the reasons why exactly today is a good day...

Up next is the weather. Oh yes. Reason to celebrate. Of course, if you're a closet pessimist (like me), you'd probably also be worrying about the fact that all that rain last night is going to turn the city into a giant sauna. Live for the moment, I guess.

By the way, I have reached the conclusion that I am a little injury prone while playing basketball. In my short LE Ba.Ba. career I have managed some rather uncommon injuries including a twisted ankle, and two dislocated pinkies. The first was the shooting hand(right) pinky, which I dislocated some 6 years ago on a cold winter's evening. We were playing a high energy, full court game and I still remember taking a 3 pointer and watching half the finger roll all the way back to touch the back of my hand. It was quite amazing to watch, specially cause the adrenaline had delayed the forthcoming pain. I was similarly amazed a few days ago when I did the other pinky. This time it was the other hand, but the point of dislocation was the same. I admired how half my finger was sitting out of position above the hinge. Kong, who was playing with us, instructed me to pop the finger outwards so that the bone would click back into the hinge. Since I was still numb, I did it myself -- something that freaked my mom out when she heard about it. Hahahaha! Anyway, I followed the R.I.C.E recovery technique. That's Rest, Ice, Compression and Exercise. Exercise is yet to begin as the finger is still quite swollen but that should get underway in a day or two.

Lastly, lemme rant a little about football. Last night saw Arsenal and Manchester United progress into the Champion's League quarter finals. They join the other two English teams while all the Italians have been eliminated. Again, Champion's League record holders Real Madrid have also been booted. Now here are a few things I don't quite understand. Blatter and Platini are worried by the dominance of the English sides in Europe. Were they worried when the Italians dominated Europe a few years ago? Not really. Did they mind when Henry was overlooked for the Ballon d'Or repeatedly despite having better statistics than one buck toothed Brazillian on the continent? Not really. Well, now the Premiere League is by far the best league in Europe and perhaps the world. Instead of imposing restrictions on the Premiere League to level the playing field, Platini and Blatter should be celebrating the success of the English game. They should be urging the other leagues to adapt, restructure and mirror the better aspects of the English game in order to climb out of the rut they find themselves in. Are they? Not really. Are they honestly worthy administrators of the beautiful game? If you ask me -- Not really.

Well, I can't remember why else today is a good day but I just have a good feeling so go with the flow. Have a nice day! :)

Jump Ship?

Decided to blog today after what I'd call quite a long day. I'm tired but I'm pushing myself to put these thoughts down before they get lost like all the other phantom posts between now and the last one.

I dropped by college earlier today for some work. That got postponed and I ended up going back to the department after what seemed like an eternity. While I was standing at the ledge one of my juniors stepped up to me and decided to engage in some football banter. Or, well, what he considered banter but turned out to be something smelly, gooey and undesirable...much like egg on one's face. Junior said something along the lines of "Its time you stopped supporting Arsenal. You should hang your head in shame." Meanwhile, D-Man, another ledge occupant, suddenly perked up at hearing the word 'Arsenal'. You could not for a moment question the authenticity of his expression of sheer disbelief for his jaws were doing an impersonation of an aircraft hangar and his eyeballs were gravitating out of their sockets towards me. There stood before him a real, live, Indian, Arsenal fan. *Gak!* For the uninitiated, Arsenal fans in India occur as frequently as sightings of the Royal Bengal Tiger in your backyard...unless, of course, you live in the Sunderbans, in which case, I'm guessing, its not much fun.

Anyway, Junior decides to dive deeper into the dingleberry soup when he asks D-Man which team he supports. Dumb question! Paddy Power, Ladbrokes, UKbetting, William Hill and the rest no longer take bets on Indian football supporters. EVERYONE knows that Indians have a dedicated OCD for Manchester United. "Manchester United?", scoffes Junior. "Erm...yes. What are you?", asked D-Man, blissfully unware of the way he'd phrased his question. "Real Madrid!", smirked Junior, "You people and your Premier League. *points to himself* Premiera Liga**! *superior smirk*"

So supporting a continental team instantly elevates you to a higher plane? Why didn't someone tell me this before?!?!?! All along I was supporting a lowly, 2 bit English team. In fact, what the hell is wrong with the rest of my countrymen? Manchester United? What were you thinking? Ah well, lets all go support Wisla Krakow or Grasshopper-Club Zürich!

I support Arsenal because of Wenger. Because of his track record, his brand of fabulous, 1-touch football, (modelled closely on the principles of Total Football) and his ability to work within the financial limitations of the club. Again, I don't support Real, Chelsea, ManU(re), Liverpool, Barca because I'm not a glory hound. I'd rather sacrifice the titles and the bragging rights for a team that knew how to play entertaining football. If I had to pick a Spanish team, I'd go with Villareal over Barca or Real. If I had to pick an Italian team, I'd go with Atalanta over the Milans or Juventus. If I had to pick a Dutch team, I'd go with Ajax Amsterdam because they invented Total Football. If I had to go with a French team, I'd go with Marseille -- not PSG or Lyon. And, lastly, if I had to go with a Portugese team, I'd go with Sporting Lisbon, not Benfica or FC Porto. If I had to go with a small team at the World Cup, I'd go with Japan or Ivory Coast.

For those of you who know a thing or two about football, you'd probably get the fact that I've picked the underdog on most occassions. You may have your own reasons for supporting your team but, thankfully, not everyone supports the Greatest Circus the World Has Ever Known, Real Madrid.

** There is no such thing as the Premiera Liga. You can either call it the Spanish League or the Spanish Premiera División or La Liga.

Of Mice and Men

I have been rather preoccupied over the past week or so with some work and the odd birthday celebration. There have been new developments -- at home as well as on the footballing front...

First things first -- football. I lambasted Arsenal's performance against Fulham in my last proper post. Yes, it was a shameful display for a club with Champion's League/League Title ambitions. However, that said, we got the response we wanted from Wenger and the team. First against Shteve Mclaren's FC Twente, (4 goal romp. Thank you very much!) and then a 3-0 football exhibition against Keegan's Barcodes. 'Going Home' is not much fun when you're going empty handed with a pea-brained convict (not to mention - a twat) on your team.

The transfer window has been shut, bolted, locked, blocked by a large steel cupboard with a 16 tonne weight on top, covered with radioactive waste and guarded by an army of specially trained, cucumber-weilding grasshoppers. In other words, silly season is over -- for now. It has been a strange-ish transfer window where we lost a huge chunk of our team.

Exits
Mad Jens - VfB Stuttgart (Bosman)
Alex 'The Ice Cream Man' Hleb - Barcelona (£11.8m)
Mattheiu Flattuso - AC Milan (Bosman)
Gilberto 'Invisible Man' Silva - Panathanikos (£1m)
Justin Hoyte - Middlesborough (£3m)
Big Phil Senderos - AC Milan (1 year loan deal)
Armand 'Armed and Dangerous at White Hart Lane' Traore - Portsmouth (1 year loan deal)

Entrants
Amaury 'Crocked' Bischoff - Werder Bremen (Undisclosed)
Samir 'The New Zidane? More like the New Pires!' Nasri - L'OM (£11m)
Aaron 'Rambo' Ramsey - Cardiff (£5m)
Mikael 'Goldfish' Silvestre - Man-chester United (undisc.)

Well, it is safe to say that we're sorta light in the DM department. Nonetheless, Arsene knows! He has suggested that Eboue could fill the gap in the middle, but we're yet to see if that is the effective solution. He has now converted Eboue from a mercurial right-wing back to an ineffective right winger and now it seems that the man from the Ivory Coast will make one more transition -- the nonsense, hard man of midfield. (Hardy Har! Har! Har!)

Emmanuel Eboue exploring his softer side.

What he does provide is direct running, rolling around on the pitch, ridiculous goal celebration routines with Adebayor, and the occasional assist. More importantly, he's not a goal scoring midfielder but neither was Gilberto or Flamini to be honest. Still, I'm not sure Eboue would be as effective or as feared as Flamini in the middle. I mean, when the team is not having a good day and a Michael Jackson look-alike decides to pull out the party tricks to the chorus of 'Ole!'s, you need someone who can stamp it out...

That is a hard act to follow and I'm not sure Eboue is the man I'd pick, then again, he may not need to be that man and perhaps we'll see something different from one of the other players -- something we didn't know already.

Closer to home, namely -- Casa del Manchas, there has been a small invasion of sorts. First they were giant, flesh tearing ants (who are still around) and now it is mice. So where have they been coming from? I haven't a clue! And no, I haven't been secretly playing Jumanji.

This house has been around for over 40 years and this is the first time we've had to face something like this. So far we've discovered a large mouse trying to climb out of the dustbin, and then the mouse trap caught this little fella on Saturday night. We didn't kill either, because well, we're not into the mouse extermination business. The first bugger was tied up in two plastic bags with the trash and ingeniously left right outside my house by my wondefully, intelligent part-timer, Sushma di. (Please to note sarcasm) Within the span of 10minutes, Mouse #1 had torn both bags, spewing trash all over the gutter lane, and escaped into the darkness.

The little chap who was caught in the mouse trap was a crafty little devil who chewed away a corner to escape while we were out to dinner. Fortunately, he didn't go scampering away back into the house, as I had to come back home briefly to send a contact detail to a friend, which is when I heard him gnawing away at the wood. Since I couldn't deal with the bugger there and then, I decided to remove the trap from the house and out onto the landing outside, just in case he decided to emulate Houdini. Sure enough, when we got home we found the trap empty and no trace of Jerry Houdini but tiny shards of wood.

This morning's edition of The Grapevine claims that the mouse menace has struck both floors below our flat. One was apparently found swimming in a commode while the other was KIA. So far, our mouse trap has been baited with things like pumpkin and, more recently, something called Kerala halwa (which looks nothing like proper North-Indian halwa). However, the rodent community seems to have sent out circulars to all infiltrators to steer clear of such tasty morsels in wooden boxes.

When you have a mouse in the house you must spend some time browsing through youtube for interesting mousetrap designs...



I also came across an elaborate setup (which any self respecting mouse will probably avoid given the effort involved in getting to the bait), and as always the PETA are around to make money off you with their design which looks fucking ridiculous.

Fucking ridiculous mouse-trap design

A wise man whose face was hidden once said, "*Sheesh!*". Thank you, wise man whose face is still hidden.

I noted that this mouse infestation has coincided with the emergence of PCI 'No Parking' signs all the way down my lane and all over my area. PCI, of course, stands for Pest Control India. Conspiracy theory? I'm not going to completely discount one.

Anyway, I'm off to have some cheese before Jerry Houdini gets to it! And for all those mice reading my blog...'Mi Casa no es Tu Casa'.

Fulham 1 Arsenal 0

Dear readers,
Welcome to Football 101. Let us begin with a few choice phrases from last night game...

Arsenal fans in Manchester - "Football? Bloody hell!"

Arsenal fans in front of the TV - "Boooooooooooooooo!"

Fulham fans at Craven Cottage - "Who are ya? Who are ya?"

William Gallas, Arsenal's French Captain - "Omlette du frommage."

Manuel Almunia, Arsenal's Spanish Goalkeeper - "Hijo de puta!"

Hangeland, Fulham's Norwegian goalscorer - "Jeg elsker de, Frenchies! *muah!*

Arsene Wenger, Le Gaffer - "Thee playyers deed not show goood qwaleeti"

Roy Hodgeson, The Gaffer - "Ma lads deed me prowd!"


The game kicked off last night around 10pm IST and what a pathetic excuse for a game it turned out to be. Okay, so as most of you know I'm an Arsenal fan and that's because I love the club, the manager, and it stands for in the modern footballing world. Now normally when a Gooner walks away from a game after a loss, he carries with him a great feeling of injustice. It could be anything from poor refereeing decisions to dirty tactics by the opposition or just plain bad luck for the men in the red and white. However, on this occasion, this fan is not afraid to come out and say that we were shit! Pure and utter shit! Unadulterated, stinky, putrid, runny, multicoloured shit!

Researchers at the University of Llanddewi Brefi recently concluded an experiment using a bunch of baboons pumped full of laxatives, doused in itching powder and then introduced onto a giant waterbed with a football thrown in. While the results were not pretty, the animals recorded a pass completion rate comparable to Arsenal's last night. It is clear that our midfielders were the crux of our problems yesterday. The only one who had a decent-ish game was our young signing Samir 'I'm not the New Zidane! Oh yes, you are!' Nasri which basically tells the story. The whole midfield looked as though they expected a moment of brilliance from the former Marseille mani, which was asking too much of a 21year old playing in only his second Premier League game. Bleeaarrrgggghhh!

The goal we conceded came predictably from a set play. Bobby Zamora received the ball in the box and with a quick turn managed to scoot ahead of his marker, Kolo Toure. Recognising the danger in on goal, Toure was forced to hit the Nitro as he thundered ahead of Zamora with 'big explosive power', impressively hacking the ball out of play before the striker could let off a shot. The resulting corner saw the ball whipped into the 6 yard area to meet the boot of the big, lumbering Norwegian Hangeland who cannoned the ball between the clueless Almunia and Clichy.

Fulham V Arsnal

The commentator goes on about Gallas' marking, which I have to agree with having watched the replay now. However, the commentator gives a clean chit to Almunia, who they say was blocked off by the Fulham player. What a load of bollocks! Almunia is, perhaps, one of the least assertive goalkeepers playing at the highest level in football -- that is the problem. I can't imagine any one like Oliver Kahn, Mad Jens, Schmeichel, Van Der Sar, Petr Cech, Iker Casillas, or even someone as error prone as Fabian Barthez not coming out to meet the cross. Maybe there was something in the pre-match kissing ritual. Then again, even if Almunia did shave his head who would step forward to kiss it before each game? Hmmm...I don't think any of the older squad members would be too keen so I'm guessing it has to be one of the new entrants. I dare say it would have to be the man of experience - Mickaël Silvestre, the man who has seen it all during the reign of Blanc and Barthez.

On the other hand, sometimes I wonder if Manuel Almunia is our former JUDE goalkeeper in disguise? Wouldn't that be cool? Okay, they don't look much alike but there is nothing modern plastic surgery cannot fix. Picture this...by day he is plain old Prabuddha but by kickoff he is playing for one of the European Super Clubs and his hair has been dyed a ridiculous peroxide blonde. The possibilities are endless.

Anyway, having splashed most of the page with football fritter fratter I think its time we moved on to the other irrelevant things I've learnt between yesterday and today. For instance, did you know that the Japanese obtain their beef from genetically engineered Wagyu bulls on a diet of high quality fodder and crates upon crates of beer. Yes, that's right I said beer. Moreover, they are regularly massaged with sake to prevent muscle cramps. I have decided that the day I go to Japan I will drive down to a Wagyu farm with a few hundred crates of beer and sake, gather up the farm hands and their cattle in front of the TV and watch Arsenal play. Oh yes! If Arsenal are their usual self and win the game then we'll moo till the cows come home. Then again, if they did what they did last night I shall have a grand consolatory Wagyu feast. Its a win-win situation. Any other takers?