Just as the winter and it's short days were bringing in a mind-numbing monotony into my life, Gunds gave me an idea that has brightened up things a little; Swimming! I've always loved it and the only reason I don't do it more often in Bangalore is that I never managed to do a single length at the Sankey tank pool without killing a couple of kids. (At the risk of sounding like the typical irritating NRI) It's so bloody crowded! In stark contrast, the neighbourhood pool here is so much bigger and has so few people using it. The most notable thing is the unwritten lane-usage rules. The first lane is strictly for socialising housewives, happily exchanging gossip as they duck-paddle from end to end, while the eighth is for the pros who glide like porpoises. I made the fourth all my own.
Apart from inspiring me to start swimming again, Gunds also passed me some knowledge that has vastly improved the quality of my life; the recipes for Dal Tadka and Rajma Masala. If you are sneering at me or thinking that this qualifies me for the first lane of the swimming pool, I say 'to hell with you and the gender stereotypes'.
Now that I have firmly established my credentials as a guy free of all gender bias, allow me to betray you by talking about the australian open this time. Boy! Is the gender gap closing fast or what?
What can I say about the women’s champion except that she reminds me of a young Mrs. Doubtfire without her make-up and fake jobs. Don't we all expect a little feminine grace in the ladies' game?
Federer dude, you are *this* close to being my all time favourite tennis player. And I'm sure when you retire from the game you will make Sampras's records look pedestrian, but DO YOU REALLY HAVE TO CRY AFTER EVERY GRAND SLAM YOU WIN?