The protagonist of our story, Mr. Wimby is a fan of Wimbledon. Its been ages (atleast his age) that he has followed Wimbledon. Be it watching Boris becker making delightful volleys, Be it Goran climbing up to his father upon making it finally to where he belonged, Be it staying up late hoping that the stupid television channel realises that paes is playing on court 10 - please switch to it, Be it hoping Nirupama vaidyanathan becomes first indian woman to make it to round 2. Wimby is no novice at the art of crashing in early at wimbledon to get ground entry on the day. But this time, there is more in store. Sunday, June 29 (6.30 pm): Wimby is languishing in his room at southampton. The distance to Wimbledon has gone up from last year (when he was based in london) but perhaps the urge is commensurate. An idea is seeded. A quick check with BBC weather and the idea takes root. A sunny Monday and Roger Federer on centre court. Sounds like an invitation to Wimby's ears. Just as a fail-sa
The idea of applying for host had germinated even while I was in Imperial in 2006/7. It took more than two years to take root. The idea of soaking in british culture and getting to know more about english people has always been high on my agenda. And host provides just that. So with a glimmer of light visible at the end of the phd tunnel, and effectively an end to the bliss state of life called 'student-life' in sight, I decided to apply for host in September this year. The application moved swiftly and I was intimated that my 'host' family would be somewhere in Wales. After a lull in communication for a while, I finally learnt (towards the end of september) that I would be hosted by the Nocks. Now the Nocks are a joint family - Roland and Margaret in their 40s, 18-yr old son michael, 16-year old Rachel, a dog, 6 ducks, 3 ducklings, 3 rats. or so I was told in the introductory mail. I was immidiately excited. On calling up Roland, I realised that Roland and Rachel had
It was early morning at Bengaluru International Airport. Bleary-eyed people criss-crossing each others paths - somehow none bumping into the other. I joined the security queue. Sometimes the apparently stupid decisions in life strike gold. I joined the longest queue cos I had time to kill. And then it happened - I glanced back. The person in question was already piled in between others joining behind. I couldnt believe no one took notice ! Maybe a minute passed just for me to compose myself - thoughts immediately converged on that morning of 12 Aug 2008 when I first heard the news. By the end of the minute, I was shaking hands with Abhinav Bindra !! The most amazing thing in all this was I was the only person mesmerized - I still cant believe it. In front of me was someone whose achievement parallels that of Nobel laureates Tagore, Raman, Amartya Sen when it comes to intersection of "an Indian" and "highest prize in their field". I wonder how people around could
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