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Saturday, June 26, 2010
Vol. 4 No. 25
LOUNGE THE WEEKEND MAGAZINE
Earlier this month Samim Rizvi became the first Indian at the world’s toughest bicycle race. This speaks of a small, invisible revolution: Cycling is now a sport of choice, for leisure and competition
BUSINESS LOUNGE WITH HDIL’S SARANG WADHAWAN >Page 8
>Page 10
SPORT YOUR TRIBE
The blowing of the vuvuzela is an example of tribal antecedents in modern sports >Page 12
PEDALLING
NIRVANA
ART’S EVERYWOMAN Why Ravinder Reddy’s woman heads became the iconic symbol of contemporary Indian art >Page 13
A MILLS AND BOON HEROINE The night before a long ride, Rizvi binges on biryani to load up on carbs.
THE TICKLED SCORER
RAHUL BHATTACHARYA
THE GOOD LIFE
OUR DAILY BREAD
SHOBA NARAYAN
SAMAR HALARNKAR
Javier Moro’s book on Sonia Gandhi is a hagiographic and sanitized telling of the life of India’s first family >Page 16
DON’T MISS
in today’s edition of
CRICKET OR TENNIS? MEN (AND WOMEN) CHENNAI VIA IT’S A NO CONTEST ARE FROM MARS CASABLANCA
W
imbledon will be in its sixth day when this appears, but I write on its eve. I look forward to it more than I have to any cricket series in the last year. Or anything else in the next few months, unless Australia agree to play Tests here in October. Then, too, I dread the pitches, the empty stands. I found it mildly disturbing that my unquestionable, indisputable, all-time favourite sport no longer occupied the No. 1 pedestal. I never had to consider the matter before. Cricket wasn’t selected as a choice, it was in our blood... >Page 4
W
hat’s your fighting style? Are you a screamer or a sulker? When you fight with your spouse or significant other, do you scream or sulk? Marital (or extramarital) strife can be classified into two broad categories. Some couples fight as if they are in a battle. Issues, however small, spiral out of control. They yell, scream, throw things, threaten to walk out and then act on the threat. Quarrels escalate quickly and get really ugly; voices screech to a peak... >Page 4
R
egular readers of this column may wonder: Moroccan food? Again? I can’t help it people. It’s light. It’s refreshing. It’s great for the summer. It’s emerged as a hit with friends and family. They’re happy. I’m happy. So, there. This all-around summer happiness over my extended foray into the Maghreb may continue, but I promise this is the last instalment for this column. While I waded through my summer with couscous and the flavours of north Africa, I wondered... >Page 7
PHOTO ESSAY
IN THE NAME OF THE MOTHER