On Sabbaticals!

 

ON SABBATICALS

A 2-Pager by Ajit Chaudhuri – November 2021

 

I recently concluded a 3-month break from work, my third of this century!

The first was in October to December 2001, when I absconded to the UK (and, for short stints, to Germany, France, the Netherlands, Switzerland, Belgium and Norway) on a British government scholarship to study leadership at the LSE. It was a great time to travel – nobody else was doing so in the immediate aftermath of 9/11, and most airlines had a ‘get bums on seats at any cost’ policy that enabled great deals for the remotely intrepid. I took my family on a cruise (Newcastle to Amsterdam and back on ‘The Prince of Scandinavia’), I walked through the glens outside Edinburgh, I even took a journey across the Arctic Circle to Troms, all on my scholarship money. In fact, I remember only one weekend spent in London, the highlight of which was a visit to Loftus Road to watch a third division game between Queens Park Rangers and Oldham – football tickets were way more expensive than travel in those days, with GBP 30 getting you from London to Lisbon and back on British Airways but not a seat at an EPL game in London, not even those in the outer stratospheres of stadiums from where the players looked like ants.

The second was in November and December 2006 and January 2007, when I moved to Gujarat for a Visiting Fellow post at IRMA. The highlight of this was the kindling of a love affair with knowledge – it led onwards to several academic papers in different fields (power, participation, autonomy, aid effectiveness, democratic decentralization, et al) and an attempt at full-time doctoral education (I flunked out after three wonderful years alternating between the library and the football ground).

The third, August to October 2021, had no such structure or noble intent – I simply needed a break (pretending to work without having anything to really do takes its toll), I wanted to write a book (whose storyline has been churning inside my head for years), and I wanted to take my annual trek, an activity that, for me, makes life in a city livable (and I hadn’t done one since 2019, so this too was bursting inside me).

I also wanted time to think through my impending retirement.

So, a quick report!

I did two treks! The first was to Patalwan Lake in the Gurez Valley in Kashmir, 5 days from roadhead to roadhead, reaching an altitude of 4,000 meters! This was a beautiful, easy-paced trek through empty alpine meadows (and, I should mention, some less pleasant time spent clambering over rocks), culminating at a stunning and large high-altitude lake. Gurez has been described as the most beautiful part of Kashmir, but also not a good place to visit because of its proximity to the LOC and its convenience as a place for unwelcome foreign guests to cross over into India. My wife and elder child were among the 25-person group that did the trek, and we also enjoyed the excellent food (three hot meals a day, and wazwaan-style cooking when our camp cook was in the mood), the interactions with an army patrol that was in our vicinity through the trek, and the friendships we developed with our trek-mates and our trek leaders (both really cool recently-retired military personnel).

We returned to Srinagar and then decided on the spur of the moment to take an additional week to explore Ladakh (the wife and child had never been). For me, the highlight of this week was the Srinagar-Leh highway (I had travelled on this road many times in the late 1990s – some things had changed, and some had not) and the time spent in the Nubra Valley (my first time in the areas north of the Indus and along the beautiful Shyok and Nubra rivers). The lows were seeing the damage that a successful film can do (in this case, ‘3 Idiots’ to Pangong Tso lake) and the resemblance between Khardung La Pass and Lajpat Nagar market.

The second trek was to the Everest Base Camp in Nepal – it was long (12 days from Kathmandu to Kathmandu), high (reaching 5,600 meters at Mt. Kalapathar for those such as me who chose to make an extra effort for a wonderful view of Mt. Everest), and with long ups and downs, scary bridges, and some stretches of rocky terrain. But, beautiful scenery, few people (and, therefore, Indians welcome – thank you, pandemic), and mostly decent places to stay in with good food, electricity, and a selection of books to borrow. And, last but not least, this trek has serious show-off value upon return, especially in difficult forums such as one’s weekend football team. In case you are wondering, if an obese 58-year-old can do it, so can you (evidence is appended in the form of a photograph taken on 4^th October 2021)!

The second photograph was taken on top of the Taklang La pass on the Leh-Manali road (altitude 5,327 meters) in August 1995, and is included as evidence that wisdom does not, as is commonly believed, increase with age. Same dumbass, 26 years, some inches and many kilograms apart! Pathetic!!

I also managed to complete a first draft of my next novel, “A Walk Through the Wild Side”, which explores issues of ethnicity, identity and insurgency in the North East of India around the late 1990s – and expect sales to creep into double figures this time. Watch this space!!

What I did not do was think through retirement; what will I do, where will I go, should I slow down or continue to work somewhere, etc., at a time when my wife is working (the ‘kept man’ option is particularly attractive), my children are out of the house (though not yet off the payroll), and I like to think that I have almost enough money (nobody has quite enough). The default option, of disappearing into my wife’s cottage outside Dehradun and waking up every morning with nothing to do, no one to meet, and nowhere to go, is an attractive one (but is it too early for that?). Should I write for a living (as opposed to writing because I have something to say), and how would a true Bong manage the business end that is necessary for a modicum of success? Does somebody who is not ‘communications friendly’ (i.e., doesn’t speak much, is not on social media, likes being in the background, and is averse to networking) have something to offer in today’s, and tomorrow’s, post-truth world?

Matters have been somewhat expedited by my return to work, my welcome being akin to that of a refugee on the Polish-Belarussian border (not a great surprise – the corporate sector has a different attitude to 3-months-out compared with the media and development sectors that I had been part of earlier), and I have committed to GTFO by early 2022. Don’t feel too bad for me – I had done everything that I had joined up to do more than two years ago, and will not miss a job that I can do in my sleep, an ‘all-fart-no-shit’ department, and a retromingent hierarchy.

So, suggestions on retirement options are welcome!

Returning to sabbaticals – my experience with them has been excellent, and I strongly recommend these as a means of taking oneself away, recharging one’s batteries, and rethinking the fundamentals of one’s existence. They work well if there is a structure or else a set of pre-set goals for the time away, and a schedule for meeting these that keeps one genuinely busy. They don’t if they are mistaken for holidays (or, alternatively, if work keeps encroaching upon the time away), if they enable sleep in the daytime (or other activities that are not normally done during office hours), or if one ends up hanging around the house and getting in the way of its daily schedule. Getting one’s family on board is a good idea. And, like with children, spacing them out is advisable. Finally, a sabbatical should serve as a means to an end, one whose value in bringing about change in the quality and direction of one’s life is discernible only in hindsight, and not as an end in itself.

During my recent sabbatical, and as an antidote to that feeling of sloth that develops whenever things can be postponed to another day, I had the appended words greeting me at the dawn of every new day. And that’s another thing that hasn’t changed with time (along with my great wisdom, as described in the photographs above, and my love for football), they reminded me back in my college days to focus on the road ahead, and they continue to do so today.

‘The woods are lovely, dark and deep; but I have promises to keep; and miles to go before I sleep; and miles to go before I sleep.’ Robert Frost

 

It's Coming Home

 It’s Coming Home!

Ajit Chaudhuri – Reflections from Euro 2020 – July 2021

 

I always thought there are some things that, by definition, one can’t have too much of – things like sex, money and football. I’m not so sure now, in the aftermath of three weeks of the Copa Americana and the Euros being played simultaneously, climaxing into ‘the most important weekend of football’, Argentina v Brazil (can Messi win a trophy for country?) and England v Italy (is it coming home or going to Rome?). The harsh light of the following Monday morning brought questions – were the sleepless nights in front of the TV (followed by the sleepy days pretending to work) worth it? What did I learn? Am I a role model to my family, colleagues and friends, especially the young and impressionable among them, or a horrible warning? And, last but not least, am I willing to do this again in 2022?

What follows is a list of my observations from the Euros in no particular order.

 

1.    A near-death experience works out well

Let me begin with something that happened early in the tournament, Danish playmaker Eriksen’s on-field heart attack. Much touchy-feely stuff was subsequently said along the lines of some things being more important than football, the sensitivity of his teammates in providing a protective shield around him while he was being treated and the team captain in comforting his spouse, and the sense of shock among players, spectators and audiences as this played out on live TV.

My own take is – one, that nobody gave a crap three days later, and that the old adage ‘football is not a matter of life and death, it’s much more important than that’ continues to be valid. Two, this worked out well for Denmark – an ordinary team went on to its second-best ever performance in a major tournament (it has to be said that the luck of the draw played some part, including the Czechs beating the strong but testicle-less Dutch, their expected quarter-final opponent, the round before), reaching the semi-finals and going down courtesy a contentious extra-time penalty. Eriksen’s direct replacement, a kid called Darmsgaard, ended up as the find of the tournament, and other unknowns (such as Dolberg and Maehle) stood up to be counted. And three, nothing would get a player in a John Terry-led team off his deathbed faster than a whisper that the captain was comforting his spouse.

2.    Tactical trends on display

The most visible was the return of the pure goalscoring centre-forward (or the No. 9), or at least the need for one. It has become fashionable to play without one (Spain’s last tournament win, the Euro 2012, began the trend towards a ‘false 9’), and several top clubs such as the current English champions use this tactic. In this edition of the Euros, many top teams suffered from not having one (Spain most of all, but also Germany, Croatia, Netherlands and Portugal), and the likes of Schik, Lukaku and Benzema (back in Le Blue after 5 years) showed them what they were missing.

The second was on the use of substitutes – 5 are allowed in a game (up from 3), a consequence of the pandemic. Coaches have yet to adjust, most obviously in the final when England introducing two young and lightning quick players in the 119^th minute merely for the purpose of taking penalties (both missed) instead of giving them time to run at an aged (and tiring) Italian defence.

The third was the double defensive shield, or having two midfielders primarily tasked with protecting the defence in a tactic that Germany used effectively while winning the 2014 World Cup (WC – remember Khedira/Schweinsteiger!). Rice/ Phillips and Jorginho/Locatelli were outstanding for England and Italy respectively, as were Xhaka/Freuler for Switzerland in its win over France, and Schlager/Laimer for Austria when they gave the subsequent champions one hell of a scare.

The fourth, of wing backs bombing forward in a manner reminiscent of Roberto Carlos and Cafu and thereby bringing sudden and dangerous width into offensive transformation play, was made possible by the third. Walker/Shaw for England, Dumfries/Van Aanholt for the Netherlands, and Spinazzola/Berardi for Italy were particularly outstanding in this aspect of play.

3.    Diving, cheating, badgering, harassing

It is worrying when there is a significant disconnect between football as played at its lowest levels (such as my weekend kickaround with fellow middle-aged fatsos) and at its highest. One has been caused by the technological innovations of the past 5 years such as VAR – but given the stakes and the way refereeing mistakes often benefit bigger clubs, football fans are OK with the emphasis on correct decisions. Another is the on-field behaviour of the players – some teams play as if there is a sniper in the audience, diving to the ground like dying ducks in their efforts to fool the referee, and then gathering around to badger and harass him. This is cheating!!

We who play football do not play it like this – we love that it is a contact sport, and we use the game also as a way to build strength and character and not to teach how to be an asshole and a fraud. Italy, Spain and Portugal were especially unwatchable for this aspect of their game (the sight of Ronaldo being touched on the side and going down clutching his head was particularly off-putting), and other teams also used this shit to their benefit (Sterling’s dive for England against Denmark, for example). FIFA, please crack down! While we understand the need to protect flair players, and to ensure that what used to happen to Maradona day-in and day-out does not happen today, this nonsense has got completely out of hand.

4.    Players who made an impression

It is difficult to follow football and not know Donnarumma, but this was the first time many actually saw him play – his club AC Milan has not played in Europe for years, and Italy did not qualify for the 2018 WC. And he was even better than his reputation – big, technically correct, and confident both in the air and at stopping shots. What a goalie! For once, I concur with the pundit’s choice of ‘player of the tournament’.

There were two lost-wonderkids who re-enforced their potential at the Euros – Schick and Renato Sanchez (a rare Portuguese who tries to stay on his feet).

The geriatrics did not shame their generation on the performance front – Pandev, the Italian central defence with Bonucci even scoring in the final (and Italy winning its quarterfinal against Belgium in the battle between grandparental defenders), and Ronaldo winning the tournament’s ‘golden boot’. The same could not be said about their behaviour, with Pepe’s being particularly egregious. Mohamed Ali famously said that ‘if you are the same person at 50 that you were at 20, you have wasted 30 years of your life’. Sadly, some players have not changed with age.

The debutants had players who will surely move to bigger clubs – Arajuuri and O’Shaughnessy for Finland and Bardhi and Elmas for North Macedonia.

And one now realizes why some small clubs are able to punch above their weight in their respective leagues – because they have fantastic players, who also shined for their countries at these Euros. Atalanta’s Freuler, Goosens, Maehle and Pessina; West Ham’s Coufal, Rice and Soucek, Leeds’ Aliosky, Klich and Phillips, et al.

5.    The biggest disappointments

Easily Turkey and Russia, but also good to see these wannabe dictatorships’ hot air balloons pricked in full public glare – most especially in Turkey’s 0-2 loss to Wales in Baku with its strongman primping in the audience. Pre-tournament favourites France and Portugal as well for going out so early – France catching Switzerland on a day in which every Swiss player had the game of his life (Arsenal fans were pinching themselves to recognize their on-again-off-again captain, and Shaquiri reminded fans why he was once a highly regarded offensive pivot), and Portugal mistaking theatre for football in a game against Belgium’s golden generation.

6.    What’s with the hairstyles?

Ten years ago, football was aptly described as ‘22 fellows in perms running after a ball, and Spain always wins!’ Today, younger players seem to prefer tattoo parlours over salons – the only one who’s mane would have required skills of a level beyond those of a barber under a tree was M’babu (no, he’s not the outcome of a liaison between Kylian M’bappe and an Indian bureaucrat).  And most older ones who sported long tresses in their younger days have transitioned from looking like they would give pleasure in a men’s jail to looking like they would take it (such as Kjaer and the absent Ramos). It was left to Hamsik, still sporting the mohawk that he wore while captaining Slovakia at the 2010 WC, to carry the card for hairdressers.

The players looked alright despite this. A consequence of the economic downturn was less advertisements in the run up to kick-offs, and audiences thereby got to see the teams lining up (we were also treated to Wembley’s booing of the German, Danish and Italian anthems in turn, followed by a sharp downswing in the betting odds for England hosting the 2030 WC). The Danes looked the nicest, the Turks (with the exception of Mr. Perfect Jawline Soyuncu) the most thuggish, but nothing quite matched the 1990 WC where the Italian line-up outdid any male catwalk (Giannini, Maldini, Zenga) and the Dutch (Koeman, Rijkaard, Wouters) looked like Uderzo’s inspiration for Asterix’s pirates preparing to board a ship.