Not some time back, when long queues were observed in front of CNG stations of Delhi, the state and central government locked horns, trying their best to blame the other for the pain and the suffering of the masses. This was hardly surprising as the BJP-led NDA government in the Center could not tolerate the Congress government of the Delhi Assembly. While BJP strongman Madal Lal khurana hobnobbed with the diesel lobby and promised that CNG was just a pipe dream, the Delhi Government found itself sandwiched between the rulings of the Supreme Court and the wishes of the Petroleum ministry. While the petty battle of the politicians continued, today, Indraprastha Gas Limited announced opening of its hundredth CNG station in the capital. While much has been said about CNG, a lot still remains to be said, and more to be done. Like, for example, excise duties and tax based on pollution; tax incentives to non-polluting cars; and promotion of use of eco-friendly transportation mechanisms.
Talking of eco-friendly transportation mechanisms, one such mechanism that is evoking considerable interest among Delhites is the Mass Rapid Transport System (MRTS). Started in 1998, the first phase of the project is expected to be complete by this year end, connecting 8 km stretch between Shahdara and Tis Hazari. Surprisingly, most of the news items detailing the MRTS development have been good news. This, despite the fact that government enterprises are notorious for their inefficiency, corruption, and red-tapism. The success of MRTS has been so remarkable (despite the fact that the first passenger-carrying train has still not run) that the BJP and Congress are now fighting over the kudos and acclaims. Both claim to be the architect of the successful completion of the project and both want credit for that.
Keeping the politicians aside and coming back to the main story, the MRTS project started just four years ago is scheduled to lay a MRTS network of 62.5km. Out of this, 12.5km is underground and rest is elevated or ground level. The network will connect Shahdara in the East-delhi, to Rohini/Barwala in North-West delhi, and Dwarka in West Delhi. A norht-south corridor will also connect Vishwa Vidyalaya to Central Secretariat via ISBT and Connaught place. Wtih a capital outlay of a staggering 10,000 crores, the first phase of the project is scheduled to be completed by September, 2005. If everything goes well, the second phase of the project will also be undertaken which will then connect Noida in East Delhi and Vasant Kunj in South Delhi.
The advantages of a state-of-the-art MRTS is not hard to fathom. Since the metro will be signal free, it will result in reduced commuting time. In addition, the journeys will be safer and more reliable. Since the trains will be run on electricity, they will reduce atmospheric pollution; (nearly 70% of the Delhi's pollution is caused by vehicular traffic especially two-wheelers). If people start migrating to the metros, there will be fewer cars on the roads resulting in huge savings of fossil fuel as well as increase in the lives of the vehicles as well as that of the roads. Overall, there are number of benefits associated with the MRTS.
Apart from these benefits, certain features of Delhi MRTS make it truly world class. There are specific provisions for physically and visually handicapped people, a class that is almost perennially neglected by the city planners and civic authorities. Then there are automatic sensors that read tickets kept in the passenger's pocket or handbag. There are adequate parking spaces so that office goers can park their vehicles and board the Metro to their work places. The Metro is also supplemented by other forms of transport like buses, three-wheelers and even rickshaws. If everything goes well, the Delhi MRTS will change the landscape of how people live and move. There are already talks of property prices zooming around areas where metro passes. And when MRTS starts operation, the trend will only pickup.
The Delhi MRTS is not the first to be commissioned in India. The credit for this goes to the City of joy Kolkata. However, comparisons between the two metros may not be fair. For one, the Kolkata metro for most part of it is underground which is not the case for Delhi. Then, the Delhi metro plans a peak time frequency of a train every three minutes. In contrast, Kolkata even after so many years of operation provides a train every 8-10 minutes. Moreover, while the Delhi MRTS shows us the way how things should be built, the 16.5km stretch of Kolkata took nearly twenty-five years to be built.
Since first fifteen years of my life were spent in Kolkata, I have some interesting memories of the city. The route to my grand-mother's house was almost the same as that on which the Metro was built. And for years I used to see dug roads which used to get full of water after a spell of Monsoons. When I queried my father as to when the Metro would be operational, he let out a wry smile, suggesting that the question did not have an answer. However, one fine day the Metro did got complete providing me an overwhelmingly simpler option of reaching my Grandma's house. The Metro was quite in contrast to the dilapidated state of public transport. Air-conditioned and having televisions (which later on mysteriously disappeared), the Kolkata Metro was like a breath of fresh air. In fact, whenever I used to get down the flight of stairs that led to the underground railway, there was a strong soothing breeze blowing across. The trains always ran on time, and there was hardly a trace of babudom which the city has become synonymous with. The stations were generally neat and clean. And there were hardly any betel stains. However, when the Metro was completely ready for me to take benefit of, my father moved out of Kolkata, leaving the prized metro in the hands of possessive Bengalis.
Chachu (28/10/2002)
Monday, October 28, 2002
Tuesday, October 15, 2002
Chachu’s Column #15: From Microcosm to Macrocosm (Part 2)
A new furnace is being built,
will increase the turnover to 1000 crores,
the factory will then be the largest,
Not just in India but in Asia.
There are minor impediments,
Very minor you may say,
You may even choose to ignore them,
Will not block the progress.
But hiding them is difficult.
Actually, it is the debris.
Dug in huge quantities.
Abrading earth's flesh,
through earth-guzzling cranes,
dumped in open spaces,
where a banner says "Do not throw debris here".
But what are the options?
Expansion is imminent,
to create jobs.
The women-folk are trapped,
in fetters of families and
fetters of space.
They want a park,
where the evenings can be spent,
cribbing about the mother-in-laws,
they also seek few benches,
to give their tired bones a rest,
after a hectic day at the kitchen.
Promises are made,
but orders of benches presumably not,
The debris needs space,
lots and lot of them.
Park is too small a thing,
trucks of earth will submerge it all.
"The park?" feeble voices utter.
But there are no takers.
If fact there is reproach and admonishment,
"Get your priorities right,
Park can wait,
If not you, your children may get,
the life has been spent anyway,
what's the need now?
At the threshold of salvation,
it is sacrilege to have such material desires."
The parking lot for the truck has not been spared
either,
eaten by the debris,
so the truckers dine in the open and sleep under it.
Demands are made again,
"How about a cabin,
where the truckers can relax after a long journey?"
There is more admonishment,
"The employees near the furnace don't even have a
fan,
and you seek a rest house?
You can either engage in charity,
or you can earn profits.
And if there are no profits,
there will be no truckers to sleep under the truck,
nor any employees to die in accidents,
in poorly maintained factories,
that are Asia's largest .
Get your priorities right,
Get your priorities right!"
But the boast has to continue,
largest in Asia,
second largest in the world.
Invisible from moon,
insignificant in the universe.
There is no cure,
to the problem of loneliness.
What is this loneliness,
What is this solitude?
Where does it come from,
where does it reside?
Or is it nothing,
a nothing that we seek to fill?
Fill with what one wonders?
Some take solace in companionship
and seek to marry.
But there are caste problems to settle,
and janampatris to match.
Caste must match, but gotras must not.
All the precaution and all the effort,
cannot guarantee marital bliss.
In far off land, the problems remain the same,
only the abstractions differ.
"Marry an Indian my son,
no matter what caste,
be it Tamil or Kannada.
Make sure she is Indian."
But two states are up in arms,
cannot stand each other,
just for water,
just for water.
The cable TV and the movies are the casualty,
so are the innocent cars,
and the torched trains,
The trains refuse to run.
Whose problem is being solved,
and whose being created
no one bothers to think.
The solution lies in padayatra,
akin to Dandi march,
there are more protests and more violence,
but there is no solution.
The country binds them together,
else there could be a war,
a state attacking other,
like in olden days,
a king attacking other
But civilization has dawned upon us,
so we resort to Bandhs,
and to torching our own cars and trains,
even those of our neighbours would do,
as long there is one to torch,
there is no problem ¾
a temporary vent to the unemployment problem.
While the foreign lady still laments,
"Marry an Indian my son?"
an Indian lady leaves her husband,
for her lover of another caste,
the traces of vermilion still in her hair-parting.
The mangal-sutra not bothered to be worn at all.
The problem of loneliness is not yet solved,
so there is alcohol,
and partying whole night.
Drunken driving is not a problem,
at least not in this country,
the bail is just 950 rupees,
when the entry fee in the disco is more than a
thousand.
Occasional lapse of concentration does happen,
and the imported smuggled jeep kills a few,
breaking the legs of few others.
You will get away you think,
that is the way things have been,
hit and run,
run and hit,
hit and run.
The old haggards sleeping on the pavements
were half dead in any case.
Death is not that bad,
it liberates from the shackles of life.
But there are exceptions,
a few caring souls raise a cry,
and for a change there is hearing,
and attempts of justice.
Some say it is witch-hunting,
so many hit and run everyday,
and no one bothering to raise an eyebrow?
So why this fuss when there is one more?
What if there is no license to drive,
and there is booze up to the brim,
This is still witch hunting.
So many hitting and running,
one more or one less makes no difference .
But at a temple it is not one,
there are many.
The state has been silent for a while,
the silence has been killing,
cannot be digested by few,
those seeking action.
The population is rising,
and if there is no forcible sterilization,
what better way than to hack a few.
So few perish in this noble cause,
and few more in the grief of it.
But at an island there is not just few,
few more than few,
and a few less than more,
vacationers sauntering at a paradise,
sacrificed for a noble cause.
Life is getting dull,
so few crackers ignite hidden passion.
Travel warning is then issued,
and embassy closed.
But who can fight destiny,
or the whims of the Almighty,
so whether you run away from danger,
or you run towards it,
what difference does it make?
The earth is round, remember,
you come back to where you started.
Another thing will come back,
but not now,
after fifty thousand years.
Keo is the name.
The campaign seeks message,
"What will you want your future generation to read,
what legacy do you want to leave behind?"
Words are aplenty,
no shortage of space,
for once,
thousands of words,
to be read after thousands of years.
What to say is difficult to decide,
The next day is itself an enigma,
thousands of years seems an eternity.
Till yesterday, the name was third from bottom,
but the last two were dropped,
so the name became last.
Profits will keep the position intact,
else that name too will be dropped,
and new names will then become last,
waiting to be dropped,
and the cycle will continue,
do,
while you have something to do.
drop,
while you have something to drop,
kill,
while you have something to kill,
loot,
while you have something to loot,
Profits, Loot, Space, Kill,
Right, Death, Morality, Torture,
Good, Evil, Happiness, Bad
Smile, Loneliness, Pleasure, Desperation do,
while you have something to do.
Dropping has caused further loneliness,
and the unpaid home loans further anxiety,
some fear this and don't opt for a loan,
they will die debt free.
The nation has a debt too,
so the brave countrymen fight adverse conditions,
protecting the frontiers,
protecting barren lands,
for whom, for what, for why,
The barren land is integral part,
whose integrity and whose part?
The other side is not very different.
The population problem comes again.
Already one billion,
more following every day, every second.
So new lands is required,
the integral part,
where no one treads,
where no one lives,
except brave men,
braving brave conditions,
developing psychological disorders,
and physical ones.
But the sacrifice is worth it,
the enemy cannot get the advantage,
the integral part,
The world will laugh at us,
if there is a loss.
So there will be more deployment,
and more men to brave the integral part,
to prevent further loss.
But few medals are lost,
after being caught in a dope test,
there are cries of innocence,
but no one listens.
The medals are snatched anyway.
Just few days of stardom,
but many days of anguish.
The loss of medals is not a bother,
what remains is still aplenty,
to boast the sporting skills of the nation.
Good or bad is just a matter of reference frame,
as is right and wrong,
depends on what you compare with,
like theory of relativity.
And when looked from far above,
or from very close,
all the accumulated wealth,
and name and fame,
and movies directed, and books written,
and medals gathered, and goals scored,
seems a speck of speck,
nothing of anything.
From microcosm to macrocosm,
everything is nothing,
and nothing anything.
Chachu (15/10/2002)
List Managment
--------------
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will increase the turnover to 1000 crores,
the factory will then be the largest,
Not just in India but in Asia.
There are minor impediments,
Very minor you may say,
You may even choose to ignore them,
Will not block the progress.
But hiding them is difficult.
Actually, it is the debris.
Dug in huge quantities.
Abrading earth's flesh,
through earth-guzzling cranes,
dumped in open spaces,
where a banner says "Do not throw debris here".
But what are the options?
Expansion is imminent,
to create jobs.
The women-folk are trapped,
in fetters of families and
fetters of space.
They want a park,
where the evenings can be spent,
cribbing about the mother-in-laws,
they also seek few benches,
to give their tired bones a rest,
after a hectic day at the kitchen.
Promises are made,
but orders of benches presumably not,
The debris needs space,
lots and lot of them.
Park is too small a thing,
trucks of earth will submerge it all.
"The park?" feeble voices utter.
But there are no takers.
If fact there is reproach and admonishment,
"Get your priorities right,
Park can wait,
If not you, your children may get,
the life has been spent anyway,
what's the need now?
At the threshold of salvation,
it is sacrilege to have such material desires."
The parking lot for the truck has not been spared
either,
eaten by the debris,
so the truckers dine in the open and sleep under it.
Demands are made again,
"How about a cabin,
where the truckers can relax after a long journey?"
There is more admonishment,
"The employees near the furnace don't even have a
fan,
and you seek a rest house?
You can either engage in charity,
or you can earn profits.
And if there are no profits,
there will be no truckers to sleep under the truck,
nor any employees to die in accidents,
in poorly maintained factories,
that are Asia's largest .
Get your priorities right,
Get your priorities right!"
But the boast has to continue,
largest in Asia,
second largest in the world.
Invisible from moon,
insignificant in the universe.
There is no cure,
to the problem of loneliness.
What is this loneliness,
What is this solitude?
Where does it come from,
where does it reside?
Or is it nothing,
a nothing that we seek to fill?
Fill with what one wonders?
Some take solace in companionship
and seek to marry.
But there are caste problems to settle,
and janampatris to match.
Caste must match, but gotras must not.
All the precaution and all the effort,
cannot guarantee marital bliss.
In far off land, the problems remain the same,
only the abstractions differ.
"Marry an Indian my son,
no matter what caste,
be it Tamil or Kannada.
Make sure she is Indian."
But two states are up in arms,
cannot stand each other,
just for water,
just for water.
The cable TV and the movies are the casualty,
so are the innocent cars,
and the torched trains,
The trains refuse to run.
Whose problem is being solved,
and whose being created
no one bothers to think.
The solution lies in padayatra,
akin to Dandi march,
there are more protests and more violence,
but there is no solution.
The country binds them together,
else there could be a war,
a state attacking other,
like in olden days,
a king attacking other
But civilization has dawned upon us,
so we resort to Bandhs,
and to torching our own cars and trains,
even those of our neighbours would do,
as long there is one to torch,
there is no problem ¾
a temporary vent to the unemployment problem.
While the foreign lady still laments,
"Marry an Indian my son?"
an Indian lady leaves her husband,
for her lover of another caste,
the traces of vermilion still in her hair-parting.
The mangal-sutra not bothered to be worn at all.
The problem of loneliness is not yet solved,
so there is alcohol,
and partying whole night.
Drunken driving is not a problem,
at least not in this country,
the bail is just 950 rupees,
when the entry fee in the disco is more than a
thousand.
Occasional lapse of concentration does happen,
and the imported smuggled jeep kills a few,
breaking the legs of few others.
You will get away you think,
that is the way things have been,
hit and run,
run and hit,
hit and run.
The old haggards sleeping on the pavements
were half dead in any case.
Death is not that bad,
it liberates from the shackles of life.
But there are exceptions,
a few caring souls raise a cry,
and for a change there is hearing,
and attempts of justice.
Some say it is witch-hunting,
so many hit and run everyday,
and no one bothering to raise an eyebrow?
So why this fuss when there is one more?
What if there is no license to drive,
and there is booze up to the brim,
This is still witch hunting.
So many hitting and running,
one more or one less makes no difference .
But at a temple it is not one,
there are many.
The state has been silent for a while,
the silence has been killing,
cannot be digested by few,
those seeking action.
The population is rising,
and if there is no forcible sterilization,
what better way than to hack a few.
So few perish in this noble cause,
and few more in the grief of it.
But at an island there is not just few,
few more than few,
and a few less than more,
vacationers sauntering at a paradise,
sacrificed for a noble cause.
Life is getting dull,
so few crackers ignite hidden passion.
Travel warning is then issued,
and embassy closed.
But who can fight destiny,
or the whims of the Almighty,
so whether you run away from danger,
or you run towards it,
what difference does it make?
The earth is round, remember,
you come back to where you started.
Another thing will come back,
but not now,
after fifty thousand years.
Keo is the name.
The campaign seeks message,
"What will you want your future generation to read,
what legacy do you want to leave behind?"
Words are aplenty,
no shortage of space,
for once,
thousands of words,
to be read after thousands of years.
What to say is difficult to decide,
The next day is itself an enigma,
thousands of years seems an eternity.
Till yesterday, the name was third from bottom,
but the last two were dropped,
so the name became last.
Profits will keep the position intact,
else that name too will be dropped,
and new names will then become last,
waiting to be dropped,
and the cycle will continue,
do,
while you have something to do.
drop,
while you have something to drop,
kill,
while you have something to kill,
loot,
while you have something to loot,
Profits, Loot, Space, Kill,
Right, Death, Morality, Torture,
Good, Evil, Happiness, Bad
Smile, Loneliness, Pleasure, Desperation do,
while you have something to do.
Dropping has caused further loneliness,
and the unpaid home loans further anxiety,
some fear this and don't opt for a loan,
they will die debt free.
The nation has a debt too,
so the brave countrymen fight adverse conditions,
protecting the frontiers,
protecting barren lands,
for whom, for what, for why,
The barren land is integral part,
whose integrity and whose part?
The other side is not very different.
The population problem comes again.
Already one billion,
more following every day, every second.
So new lands is required,
the integral part,
where no one treads,
where no one lives,
except brave men,
braving brave conditions,
developing psychological disorders,
and physical ones.
But the sacrifice is worth it,
the enemy cannot get the advantage,
the integral part,
The world will laugh at us,
if there is a loss.
So there will be more deployment,
and more men to brave the integral part,
to prevent further loss.
But few medals are lost,
after being caught in a dope test,
there are cries of innocence,
but no one listens.
The medals are snatched anyway.
Just few days of stardom,
but many days of anguish.
The loss of medals is not a bother,
what remains is still aplenty,
to boast the sporting skills of the nation.
Good or bad is just a matter of reference frame,
as is right and wrong,
depends on what you compare with,
like theory of relativity.
And when looked from far above,
or from very close,
all the accumulated wealth,
and name and fame,
and movies directed, and books written,
and medals gathered, and goals scored,
seems a speck of speck,
nothing of anything.
From microcosm to macrocosm,
everything is nothing,
and nothing anything.
Chachu (15/10/2002)
List Managment
--------------
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Saturday, October 05, 2002
Chachu’s Column #14: Of Role Models and Roads Ahead
As Indian contingent struggles it out at Busan Asiad, and as medals come only in a trickle, a peep in the history of Indian sports provides hope for the future. Providing this hope is an array of ex-players, who had excelled in their respective discipline in the yesteryears, and who now strive to make future world champions for India. Two such stars that deserve special mention are the former Badminton World Champion Prakash Padukone and the Golden Girl P.T. Usha.
Prakash Padukone is arguably the greatest Badminton player India has ever produced. Prakash was the national champion for most of the nineteen seventies. But it was in the year of 1980 that he found his Midas touch when he won the All England Badminton Championships, thereby becoming the first Indian to do so. In the very next year, Padukone won the World Cup also. While Padukone could not repeat such performances, he remained one of India's best Sporting stars in the early eighties. After his retirement, Prakash felt a strong urge to continue his legacy and produce more stars for the country. From his dreams and aspirations took birth the Prakash Padukone Badminton Academy (PPBA). Established in 1994 at Bangalore, the Academy has now become a full-fledged sports school. It takes care of all necessities of the trainees offering them boarding, lodging, coaching, equipment and other requirements. The selection is based on merit and is done mainly for the young age group. The endeavor is to catch them young so that the trainees become future Padukone. The effort proved to be truly worthwhile when one of the protégé of the Academy, P. Gopichand, won the All England Badminton Championship in 2001. (Ironically, amongst this success story there lies that prototypal Indian phenomenon of bureaucratic interference and politics in sports. While Asian Games is currently underway, it is reported that Gopichand is still waiting for official clearance so that he can take part in the Asian Games and bring laurels for the country).
On similar lines, India's Golden Girl P. T. Usha too has opened Usha School of Athletics at Koyilandy, in Kerala's Kozhikode district. Her ambition is see an Indian on the victory podium of the 2008 Olympic Games. (Her desire to see an Indian win an Olympic medal stems from her own failure to win the bronze medal at Los Angeles Olympics (1984) by one- hundredth of a second. The disappointment at the Olympics, which was in some sense a landmark for Indian sports, was actually her biggest regret in a sporting career spanning fifteen long years. )
Like her sporting career, building the School was not without heartburns and severe perseverance. Usha sought help from various quarters, including government bodies, large corporates and celebrities. Many refused but few did help. Eventually, the dream bore fruit and the School commenced operation in May, 2002. The initial set of trainees includes young children in their pre-teens or early teens. The school bears all the expenses the cost of all students. Efforts are made to ensure that money does not play spoil-sport in the success of a potential superstar, many of whom leave sports for commercial and other considerations. When complete, the Usha School of Athletics will have with an eight lane 400 metre track, a swimming pool, a gymnasium, a school, an office and hostel accommodation for the students. Help and financial support is now coming from various quarters. Thanks to Usha's determination, Indian athletics is looking a new future, whose first chapter is being written by the golden girl who burnished India's image in the international athletics arena during her time.
Chachu (5/10/2002)
Web Resources
-------------
http://www.tamil.com/rasigar/ptusha.htm (On P. T.Usha)
http://www.hinduonnet.com/thehindu/2002/05/29/stories/2002052904391800.htm
(On Usha's School of Athletics)
http://www.rediff.com/news/2002/jun/20spec.htm (On Usha's School of Athletics)
http://www.geocities.com/colosseum/court/9595/aboutus.htm
(Prakash Padukone Badminton Academy)
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--------------
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Prakash Padukone is arguably the greatest Badminton player India has ever produced. Prakash was the national champion for most of the nineteen seventies. But it was in the year of 1980 that he found his Midas touch when he won the All England Badminton Championships, thereby becoming the first Indian to do so. In the very next year, Padukone won the World Cup also. While Padukone could not repeat such performances, he remained one of India's best Sporting stars in the early eighties. After his retirement, Prakash felt a strong urge to continue his legacy and produce more stars for the country. From his dreams and aspirations took birth the Prakash Padukone Badminton Academy (PPBA). Established in 1994 at Bangalore, the Academy has now become a full-fledged sports school. It takes care of all necessities of the trainees offering them boarding, lodging, coaching, equipment and other requirements. The selection is based on merit and is done mainly for the young age group. The endeavor is to catch them young so that the trainees become future Padukone. The effort proved to be truly worthwhile when one of the protégé of the Academy, P. Gopichand, won the All England Badminton Championship in 2001. (Ironically, amongst this success story there lies that prototypal Indian phenomenon of bureaucratic interference and politics in sports. While Asian Games is currently underway, it is reported that Gopichand is still waiting for official clearance so that he can take part in the Asian Games and bring laurels for the country).
On similar lines, India's Golden Girl P. T. Usha too has opened Usha School of Athletics at Koyilandy, in Kerala's Kozhikode district. Her ambition is see an Indian on the victory podium of the 2008 Olympic Games. (Her desire to see an Indian win an Olympic medal stems from her own failure to win the bronze medal at Los Angeles Olympics (1984) by one- hundredth of a second. The disappointment at the Olympics, which was in some sense a landmark for Indian sports, was actually her biggest regret in a sporting career spanning fifteen long years. )
Like her sporting career, building the School was not without heartburns and severe perseverance. Usha sought help from various quarters, including government bodies, large corporates and celebrities. Many refused but few did help. Eventually, the dream bore fruit and the School commenced operation in May, 2002. The initial set of trainees includes young children in their pre-teens or early teens. The school bears all the expenses the cost of all students. Efforts are made to ensure that money does not play spoil-sport in the success of a potential superstar, many of whom leave sports for commercial and other considerations. When complete, the Usha School of Athletics will have with an eight lane 400 metre track, a swimming pool, a gymnasium, a school, an office and hostel accommodation for the students. Help and financial support is now coming from various quarters. Thanks to Usha's determination, Indian athletics is looking a new future, whose first chapter is being written by the golden girl who burnished India's image in the international athletics arena during her time.
Chachu (5/10/2002)
Web Resources
-------------
http://www.tamil.com/rasigar/ptusha.htm (On P. T.Usha)
http://www.hinduonnet.com/thehindu/2002/05/29/stories/2002052904391800.htm
(On Usha's School of Athletics)
http://www.rediff.com/news/2002/jun/20spec.htm (On Usha's School of Athletics)
http://www.geocities.com/colosseum/court/9595/aboutus.htm
(Prakash Padukone Badminton Academy)
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