Of sticks and stones...

Id never done this before. Nervous? yeah...exicited?..hell yeah.... yup this was it...something i'd been wanting to do for a long long time...I finally managed to attend my first 'polo' match....

Polo as its called is definetely the "game of kings"...The game's a little different from the other's...teams of four per side...two refrees..four 'chakars'( or quaters)...10 pony's (suprise suprise: yes pony's...horses arnt used in polo!)... each time a team scores a point or a goal, the side's switch. So if youre on Team A and manage to score on the left post, your team needs to score on the right post the next time...and no, there's isnt a goaliee on either side...so you wont see two horses galloping accross the field everytime a goal's scored.

But thats not the point. Polo's really not about the game persay, but more about the atmosphere. Its as if youre transported back, a number of years, when the kings and prince's called the shots. And it still attracts its share of royalty....so almost all the blue blood in India from the Scindia's of gwalior to the Rajputs of jaipur "claim" to be confortable with the sport....

I havnt mentioned the Wadiyar's (pronounced "Oodiyar's", as my south indian buddy tells repeatedly)...Now I can only imagine what happened to the poor pony once Mr Wodiyar managed to mount on him...I mean its a pony for a god's sake!...i'm not sure if even the famous 'mysore' elephant is too confortable with the "not so lean" Mr Wadiyar...

Where the royal lineage flows, so does the elite... thats why i wasnt really suprised when i spotted Mr. Jindal hob nobing with the Anil kapoor's and Saif Khan's of the world...
The polo community has still remained very true to its true past, still following all the customs and traditions of the yester years.

An intresting one was "treading the field". This happens at the end of the third chakar. The MC of the event invites the entire spread of spectators to walk on the ground. No, she wasnt trying to ignite the health bug in us, but in effect was asking us to smoothen the ground, roughed up with all the running...

Or so she thought....

The custom, as history goes expects the spectators to walk the entire length and width of the ground but the spectacle i saw was quite different. There was booze..lots of it...some people did get up... but only till their first step into the ground. They sipped on some delicious champagne, got a few pictures clicked by the press( some of which almost got run over in the process!) and promplty went back to their seats.

The term "remaining true to one's custom" in a whole new dimension...

It wasnt soon after that i realised that polo is also a game of sheer patience. No, not for the players but for the bored, rather intoxicated audience. I would be too..sunday afternoon..chilled beer..women...horses..ahem...

But seriously speaking, the game does lose its charm after a few chakars. Firstly the spectator's are too far away from the action. Us the new generation, fed on satelleite TV and mobiles are far too used to being in the center of the field. The only time one gets to see the ball (ie. the polo ball) is when the players come charging towards your end of the grandstand.And at that time, you scream..not to cheer...but in true, unadultrated fear!..

Well, it did end. thankfully. But before the "la di da" headed for some more pressing matters like the "after" party or a pedicure, the Jindal group had few antics up their sleeve. They did lose, but dint fail to entertain. So the trumpets sound and one suddenly sees a man balancing his entire 45 Kgs by standing vertically on two galooping horses. Now if that wasnt enough..he manages a handstand on the same as well..

I think i distinctly heard him praying..something about the two horses getting along......ouch!

Anyone gotta light??

So, this is the way it is then. Every morning , afternoon, and evening.
Lunch breaks, snack breaks, after meetings, before meetings, any sorta free time.

Ciggarettes: A cylindrical roll of finely cut tobacco cured for smoking, considerably smaller than most cigars and usually wrapped in thin white paper... hmm.. thats what most parents, wives, girfriends (no offence to the fairer sex but the % of male smokers is kinda overpowering) would describe it as.

Ask a cigarette smoker this and he'll tell you why its the best thing man discovered. Now i, by no means want to propogate smoking, but its just the satisfaction that i see on these souls thats making me talk about this subject.

Now its always easy to spot a smoker. Theyre invariably in a bunch...like the bullies in hostel or a pack of harley riders. Always huddled up,thinking, laughing,cursing, blissfull in their small little world. Its as if the cigarette is an extention to their personalities. For once in their life's theyre all equal, at the same platform, irrespective of age, sex, designation. Not suprisingly its the only form of male bonding that i know off. You can find two completely different people , absolute opposites in thinking , appearences, prefernces but together because of that one peice of rolled paper.

And theyre different kinds...atleast where i work...

youll find the habitual smokers...the kind who think, talk, literally breathe smoke. these kinds can be easily identified from a distance. Theyl be the silent types, enjoying a smoke irrespective of the company, boss, juni..whatever. They are also the ones who get the most 'pissed' off when you ask them for a drag.

trust me..i know...

Then there are the ones who smoke outta boredom. Now these are the dangerous types. Theyll come to you, looking all innocent ,as if here only for a general chat or on some work.. and before you know it.. youre outside, doing what they know best.

And theyll keep doing it. Once youre in their radar, say bye bye to your cozy little chair, cause youre not gonna be sitting in it for long. The breaks become longer and slowly, yes slowly, returning back to one's chair becomes more of an obligation rather than a necessisity.

The third type are the "hang-on's". These guys dont smoke regulary..or SO they say.
They never really have the cash to buy a cigarette, and love replaying their favourite excuse: "Yaar, you know i dont smoke man!..i don wanna get into the habit, thats why id dont have a cigi".... Their practised (I've a gut feeling that they plan it well in advance) act comlpete, theyll sheepishly ask you for a drag. everytime.

If youre nice youll even give them a cigirette.
Thats as close to "digging your own grave" that you can get.

And then there's the issue of the "Charachters"...
Now you may actually confuse these ones with circus performers but they're not, theyre just weird or DIFFERENT (like they like to be known). Theyll have the most peculiar smoking styles ; some who move around only in circles when smoking..(that actually reminded me of a poodle the first time i saw it,but...ahem) ,then there are those who resemble steam engines; pacing "up and down", huffing and puffing...breaking occasionally for a release.... and
yes finally, my personal favorites; The "clint eastwoods"...These guys do the whole routine; From the wincing look to the peircing eyes...theyll even cook up a funny little accent...just for the impact...

Now our advertising community has done all to really propogate this felling of "manhood" thats associated with cigarettes. There've been the Akshay Kumars, hanging precariusly from trolley carts, jumping mid air to save a stranger's life, or scarf or something on those lines. After possibly breaking all laws of gravity that Mr. Newton wasted his lifetime on, our daredevil casually takes out a cigarette and comments "Hum Red and White peene wallo ki baat hi kuch aur hain"... Yes, Yes Mr Kumar you are the Indian Clint Eastwood, no questions about it.

But to their credit, there have been some "educational" campaigns too. Like the one made by the Cancer federation of India.
It showed the life cycle of a male, right from his school days to his end.
Whats intresting is that they picked on exactly the same point that all the commercial cigerretes brands were using; "Cigarettes = manhood" ( w/o the additional bonus of less gravitational pull).
From a jingle like " A cigerrete in my hand, i felt like a man" to the very impactful "Ciggerette in my hand , i was a dead man", the campaign did wonders in breaking that myth.

It did, really... I gotta go now...time for a break...My "hang-on" buddy's approaching.....

adios.