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I had promised that I would return the morning after the final. Well, things didn’t turn out for me (and many other fans like me) as expected. Spain completely caught Argentina off guard — so much that Leo didn’t get more than a couple of touches for a fraction of a second during the entire match. Spain 1 – Argentina 0. 

From the outset of the match, I sensed the overarching internet narrative being projected onto the teams: Argentina, the thugs and beat-masters against the ever-so-ethical and politically correct Spain. The referee was quick to dish out yellow cards on the blue-and-white-jerseyed men. With Lisandro Martinez going out due to injury before halftime, nerves began wracking up and Argentina team may have felt the game was slipping out of their hands. The only way they could’ve won it was through penalties. They kept holding on until the last minute, even with one man down (Enzo was sent off) but in the end Emiliano could’ve only held up so far. He was the man of the match — an impregnable wall that kept saving the team through his astute saves. It is a shame that he wasn’t handed the Golden Glove. It is even worse that Messi, who led one of the most historical World Cup campaigns at an overripe age of 39, was omitted for the Golden Ball. It is impossible to ignore that this may well have been an attempt by FIFA to launder their reputation. 

Argentina is a team that plays with their heart on their sleeves. I love Argentinian football culture, and hailing from Kerala, where the fervour for the team is only second to the most passionate Buenos Aires neighbourhoods, my loyalties are lifelong and cast in stone. I admire the physical, aggressive, direct style of play with a tinge of creative flair, that the team has come to embody over the last couple of years. The night of the final was the night I realised I despise the Spanish — or rather Barcelona-esque— possession-heavy Tiki Taka game. It almost put me to sleep and was dreadful to watch. Argentina, for all its flaws, gives us last-minute dopamine-inducing thrilling goals that completely rewrites the script of the game. 

As a long-time supporter of FC Barcelona, one would’ve expected me to be happy for the many boys who won the trophy in La Roja. In fact, the team Spain consists of mostly Barcelona players, with just one Real Madrid-bound player, Cucurella (a match made in heaven — but that’s a topic for another day). But I wasn’t one teeny-weeny bit happy for the Barcelona players. When the most important night of my life approached, my heart inevitably, without hesitation, chose Messi. It was a profound revelation of where my loyalties lay all along. At that point, Barcelona was just a team Messi had once played for, albeit for many years, and loved dearly. Suffice it to say that I’ll love Barcelona only as long as it honours Messi. It is a conditional affection for a club that I had considered my own since childhood. I never thought I would say this. On Sunday night, I was confronted with the painful choice, and my emotions answered. I was always a player-first fan. But this realisation also gives me the opportunity to now venture out, watch matches without taking sides and adopt a club, a team that kindles a spark in me. That will be exciting. In a month’s time, I can’t wait to start watching the premier league. 

Barney Ronay didn’t miss a beat when he said Spain’s collective glory that hinges on players oiling a perfect system, subdued “a team built on the irrational magic of Messi’s lone genius.” Perhaps he’s been one of the very few Guardian writers who has been honest in his portrayal of Messi. 

There’s been much clamour about Paredes’ actions after the end of the match. There’s no need to create a ruckus about it. Fights are common in football matches, and when the emotions are running high it can spill over into physical attacks. 

And the last of all, and the worst of all, the match between Argentina and Spain morphed into a proto-war between the righteous left (read Palestine sympathisers) and the angry right (read Zionists) with the likes of Mehdi Hasan jumping into the bandwagon, donning an English shirt. This also tells us that in precipitous moments, the Big West likes to gang up against the ‘uncivilised’, ‘brutish’ third world country. Ishaan Tharoor clowned himself by writing a full article on New Yorker saying that he no longer identifies with the Argentina team that has now become ‘the establishment.’ We must rephrase his sentiment this way: Ishaan only likes to support the little, talented third world country team only so long as it remains at the bottom, trying against all odds to reach the top, always within reach but never really there. Once it reaches there he has to pick another side to parade; and this time he has interestingly chosen, of all underdogs, Spain. What an irony. 

Leo, do not give heed to anything that these naysayers and doomsday prophets say. Rodrigo de Paul perfectly summed up the larger Western and Arab narrative in the run up to the final when he said in his post-final statement that the whole world wanted this team, who reached a consecutive final despite being flawed and tactically and technically inferior, to not smile again. La Albiceleste only owes to the millions of Argentines and the millions of fans who support them outside their country — in Kerala that bleeds blue and white every four years, Bangladesh that gets drunk in Messi-madness every time he graces the pitch, and most of all in the virtual space (a shout out to FCBJimmy, BCNOgi and the impeccable Twitter legends who took us on a ride this World Cup) — who have been standing by this family through thick and thin. 

Onwards we go, Vamos!  Uno perfecto, Argentino!

Notes

*The title of the post translates into English as ‘Not a legend, but God.’

Lionel Scaloni’s reaction when Argentina goes two goals down or ultimately wins the match sometimes leaves me speechless. It is a lesson in stoicism. And his muted, almost suspended expressions remind me of the infamous, oft-quoted Rudyard Kipling poem ‘If–’; particularly this bit: 

If you can meet with Triumph and Disaster

    And treat those two impostors just the same

There has been no end to the number of articles I’ve been reading this whole week about Lionel Scaloni’s strategy — which involves a light mix of pragmatism, flexibility, effectively-timed substitutions, accompanied by an accurate reading of the game. Spain looks the dominant side in the approaching final — going by the verdict of sports writers — but if Argentina is to ever come on the top, it will all fall on one person — Lionel Messi. That’s both nerve-wracking and alluring for this hardcore fan, who first fell in love with Messi before becoming a Penya Blaugrana regular. That is why I pull no punches in stating that my loyalty is with the side that has Messi — La Albiceleste.

Nimish Dubey, the sports writer, likened the current Argentina side to Real Madrid, and Spain (La Roja!) to Manchester City. The resemblance is uncanny. The blue-and-white-jerseyed 2022 World Cup Champions are the comeback specialists in this tournament, often clinching victory in the dying minutes of a match from the jaws of defeat. If Argentina becomes the winner tonight, it will become the first team since Brazil in 1962 to win consecutive World Cups. Suffice it to say that the CBF’s offices will be smashed to pieces if this happens. 

Meanwhile a new debate recently in football discourse has been whether the player of a team — who got knocked out of the tournament — but nevertheless scored the most number of goals deserves to win the Golden Boot. Last night, France played England in the losers’ final for third place, and though the former lost, Mbappe scored a brace that made him the all-time top scorer, surpassing Messi by two goals. I have not made up my mind on this subject yet. If Messi scores a brace tonight I might not bother having an opinion about it. 

Some have been saying that this final mirrors in intensity to the Argentina-Italy semi-finals of 1990 in which the Argentines trounced Italy to advance to the finals (which they unfortunately lost to the then all-mighty — and perhaps last — West Germany side). 

Spain and Argentina are not just tied by language and consequently cultural influences, but a long history, kept alive by immigration from both sides. 

Spain colonised Argentina in the 1500s and the latter won back independence in 1816. Between 1880 and 1950 Argentina received waves of European immigrants, most of them Italian and Spanish, who were fleeing Europe due to rising poverty, landlessness and political instability. Most of southern Europe were agrarian at the time and land was becoming scarce due to overpopulation; crop failures could ravage livelihoods. Jewish pogroms stressed the continent further. 

On the other hand, Argentina had vast tracts of fertile land that appealed to these foreigners. The country’s agricultural exports sector was booming at the time and demanded labour — which presented an opportunity for many unemployed Spaniards and Italians. The government actively encouraged European immigration by incentivising passage, keeping a lax immigration policy and providing other benefits. The Argentine thinker Juan Bautista Alberdi famously said “to govern is to populate.” Moreover, Argentina was culturally and linguistically closer for the Spaniards than the US. Much of Argentine Spanish, food, and culture (tango, pasta, ‘che’) show heavy traces of Italian influence. 

One less favourable outcome of this immigration (to the modernist eye) was that Argentina quickly became a haven for some Nazi war criminals such as Eichman, Mengele under Juan Peron’s government. 

Fast forward to the 21st century, the immigration pattern has reversed with many Argentines — most of whom have ancestral connections to Spain and hold dual passports — flocking to Spain and other European countries. Chronic economic instability drives this movement. Spain even has a special fast-track route that enables anyone hailing from Ibero-American countries and residing in Spain for two years or more, to claim citizenship. Madrid and Barcelona are hotspots, and the latter can boast of many neighbourhoods that feel like Buenos Aires. Argentina itself has tightened its immigration law, a reversal from its historical open-door policy. 

So the meeting between Spain and Argentina in tonight’s final goes beyond the wondrous Messi-bathing-Yamal picture — which apparently was so mind-blowing that UNICEF had to step in to claim it’s real. It was captured by Joan Monfort, who didn’t realise the absurdity of it all back when he snapped it. It lay in his drawers, one among the many of the kind he had captured over the years — until recently, when Lamine Yamal burst into the limelight with his footballing prowess. His mother Sheila promptly produced the picture for the world to see — because this indeed was something legendary, like a fulfilling movie arc. So yes, coming back to our initial proposition: this final is between two eternally-linked nations by history, culture and football; by Lionel Messi — a meeting of the country whose blood he carries in his veins and the country where he felt himself, and danced, enthusing generations of Spaniards. He is the dear son of both Spain and Argentina. And that is why the final tonight is difficult — both for him, and the millions of ‘culers’ across the world.

Before we wind up I wish to quote two passages (the opening and closing, respectively) from Sid Lowe’s wonderful article on this beautiful battle: 

“Maybe Lionel Messi has picked up lots of babies, maybe it’s chance, but for those of us who have faith, who believe in something beyond, ‘chance’ is God’s pseudonym when he doesn’t want to sign his name,” Luis de la Fuente says. “In life, everything happens for a reason. Sometimes it’s true that the circle isn’t closed, but in my view there’s something else, something … I don’t know, mystical, spiritual.”

And towards the end Lowe says: 

Spain versus Argentina. European champions versus South American champions. Lionel Messi versus Lamine Yamal. The 19-year-old at his first World Cup, the age Messi was when they first met, versus the 39-year-old at his sixth and surely last. The teenager then who went on to mark a generation, now a father, against the teenager called to mark the next, his anointed one. The boy handed Messi’s No 10 like Messi was handed Maradona’s, the boy handed to him almost 20 years ago, unknown then, an icon now, the boy in the bath.

Whatever happens, Messi-and-InshaAllah. Adios, until next morning!

Keeladi excavations

The Keeladi excavation is the hottest topic in archaeology and historical discourse in India. It’s only 11 years since the excavation began but with each round of ‘digging’ more affirmative details emerge that point to something bigger. Yes, something of a proto-(or even proper) civilisation in a village named Keeladi on the banks of Vaigai river near Madurai. It is estimated to have existed during Sangam age, somewhere between Iron Age and the early historic period. The oldest artefact unearthed date back to 580 CE. Artefacts almost 2000-2500 years old have been found. For ease of understanding, the IVC spanned from 3200 BCE to 1500 BCE and the Vedic age thereafter from 1500 BCE to 500 BCE. The Tamil Brahmi script found at Keeladi is older than the Ashokan Brahmi script. It also helps to remember why these findings have created discomfort among a section of the intelligentsia and the common folk – urbanisation in ancient India is often viewed as a Northern phenomenon with the dominant narrative that the Northern Aryans civilised the Dravidian South. The excavations have only amplified the North-South divide. The controversy spiralled further with the ASI transferring the archaeologist that led the excavations — Mr. Ramakrishna — and delaying the release of the excavation report on grounds of insufficient corroborative evidence. The ASI released a draft version in mid-2025 but the final version will have to wait as it is still bound up in ongoing academic and political dispute. Without the political will of the TN government the excavations wouldn’t have been expedited so quickly. The Tamil Nadu Archaeology department (they have a specific ministry dedicated to this subject) has taken over the rest of the job and is digging in pursuit of more evidence. And the details that emerge with every ‘dig’ is extraordinary. On that note, I think Sowmiya Ashok’s recent book ‘The Dig’ makes for timely reading. I had the chance to recently attend a conversation between her and the wonderful historian Anirudh Kanisetti regarding the book.

Argentina teetering on the edge, VAR, and much more

I watched two Argentina matches the last week, the one against Egypt and another this morning – QFs against Switzerland – which they won, somehow. The match against Egypt deserve some space here. The post-match discourse was riddled with controversy regarding favourable refereeing towards Argentina (which still hasn’t ended), ‘rigged’ calls – including from public personalities such as Zohran Mamdani (when it comes to football he’s a total larper regardless of his political transparency and governance merits), and ‘Fifa’s favourite son’ (or ‘princess’!) memes’. Infantino’s publicly profuse love for Messi and his team isn’t helping either. Mamdani’s bleats regarding the game during a speech at a totally unrelated event gave further ammunition to internet conspiracy theorists. To my surprise, many level-headed people such as the coaches of Spain and France said the refereeing was spot on. Even Mo Salah came forward to make things clear that the coach and his flavours spouted opinions about the game being unfair in the heat of the unexpected and swift loss. The Egypt side folded in a matter of 13 minutes. Lionel Messi’s brilliance, like an old lion roused from his slumber, outshined the opponents and in a striking equaliser and an assist he made the match the one to remember for ages. . He had missed a penalty earlier on in the game and was set to shoulder the blame for the team’s loss (the whole lot of which performed abysmally for a large part of the game). It’s when Messi woke up that the whole team picked up on his energy and acted with the aggression and drive to win.

Several explanatory videos on the internet help us understand the refereeing decisions. The foul committed during the build-up of Egypt’s (stellar) second goal rendered it null – and technically it confirms to Fifa’s rule book. In fact, debates and controversies around refereeing are as old as the World Cup itself. With a whole nation behind a team rooting for them, the furore over any tiny decision not going their way is understandable. The claimed penalty for Salah for tripping inside Egypt’s penalty box is, as they say it in football-speak, bullocks. Lisandro Martinez does not touch Salah and recovers the ball deftly – Salah tripped over due to loss of balance and not because he was pushed down by the defender. I’ve been watching the clips in slow-motion on repeat the whole week.

But the damage has already been done by mindless social media warriors – who support rival teams and players. Now Argentina and Messi are being painted as Zionists, Israel-sympathisers and racists and it’s a full-fledged war between them and the Islamic world and the communists. Leftwing social media activism is a brain-dead affair with absolutely zero awareness of issues. Marx? Let alone Engels, they haven’t picked up even a book of Arundhati Roy to understand the predicament of lower classes, the bourgeois-proletariat dynamic and incipient revolutions in societies.

Against Switzerland, Argentina played with an almost unfathomable level of insouciance. Argentina are now rightly called Extra Time specialists. They played laggardly during the first sixty to seventy minutes only to pick up steam during the fag end of the match and go full throttle and sneak in two to three bangers to secure the game. Julian’s goal this time was astonishing – it might as well be voted the goal of the tournament. Messi wasn’t able to unleash his brilliance — partly because the team was not playing cohesively and he had to drop back to the centre to create chances. Messi’s right-footed(!) shot came close to sealing the game but it veered of the side bar.

On a lighter note, fuchsia-coloured boots are the trend this World Cup with all brands — from Nike, Adidas to New Balance — coming out with different versions of it. Some sources suggest that an analytics report that was read by all the said brands predicted the fuchsia would be colour of 2026 summer and so the brands followed suit.

Is football coming home?

ET calls it England’s most fulfilling self-parody. In fact their mini section on this cri de guerre needs quoting in full – here’s a snapshot:

The Economist studied the geographical and cultural aspect of this claim recently. Well, turns out, even though England invented the game and codified its rules, the ‘home’ or the ‘centre’ of football has now shifted South, somewhere between France and Spain. TheRestIsFootball can’t stop hallucinating about England finally clinching the trophy that have been eluding them for years. The self-aggrandisement is evident — why do they want to claim they are the ‘home’ of football? It sounds as if they are staking claim to a property that’s been sold to a septuagenarian from another continent and has passed down three generations.

A recent editorial piece highlighted an interesting fact. The WC’s unpredictability – routine Cinderella stories of unknown sides that make it to the top (not this time though – with just the four top rankers making through to the SFs) – and inefficiency in terms of how disproportionately teams spend to get them prize, is also what makes the whole tournament exciting.

Studies don’t conclusively prove that football is linked to lower levels of loneliness. But the act of watching a game with a group of people, or attending a match in person can create a collectivist shared feeling. In fact even discussing a game in a private group or reddit forum can create similar experiences that significantly reduce loneliness. Simon Kuper attests to this in his book World Cup Fever. Studies also point out that less suicidal deaths are recorded during the WC period than average.

Footballers’ most recent gripe is about hydration breaks. Many consider it a ploy to run more advertisements and rake in money. But the counter-argument is that broadcasting sports matching is becoming an expensive affair. An editorial I read recently argues that advertisements needn’t obstruct the flow of the game and can be carefully placed and timed during the match screening in a way that does not disrupt the overall experience.

I read somewhere that in the late 20th century, to be born Dutch was to have football ingrained in you. I wonder whether the same can be said of the Dutch today.

So far, this World Cup tournament has been one for the GKs – except for Pickford, of course.

The spectre of AI

AI slop is saturating our social media feeds, articles, short stories. The latest controversy about one of Granta’s short story prize winners having used AI in their work is alarming. But also one might wonder if we’re being too probing about any trace of AI in written works. For instance, it’s not that any use of em dash can be definitively attributed to the work of ChatGPT. It is a legitimate punctuation mark used by writers for centuries. We must keep using em dashes, as and when we wish, and not resort to replacing them with commas, semicolons, and the like, which barely convey the same meaning as our long-hyphen princes.

I read that people are now using AI to argue their legal cases and defend themselves in courts. AI, to its merit, is so loyal that it comes up with fabricated cases in the person’s defence. Anything to win the case, it seems!

Bits and bobs

1. Even short burst of exercise – called VILPAs – can be as effective as week-long regular cardio-strength alternating workouts, to lead a healthy life. VILPAs include activities like running to catch the bus, rushing to the grocery store, doing laundry and the like. Is that too one of the reasons women live longer than men – especially in states like Kerala where women do a bigger share of household work and run errands? In terms of intensity, VILPAs are comparable to HIITs.
2. The Trump-Meloni clash at the NATO Ankara summit last week was stuff of popcorn. Trump said he was attending it out of respect for Erdogan. And Trump reportedly is unhappy with Europe for not spending enough on defence, sticking upto him in the Iran war, plus the Greenland conquest is still on his mind.
3. I didn’t know Padmanabha Singh, the titular Maharaja of Jaipur, could sketch (!).
4. Recently, the Hollywood Reporter came under fire for platforming Pratik Shah, who’s been accused of sexual misconduct by several women.
5. I still can’t figure out what the Communist Party’s strategy after the Kerala assembly election debacle. They seem to be pandering to the (obnoxiously pretentious) CJP which is now using Sonam Wangchuk’s indefinite fast as a political trump card and an opportunity for moral signalling vis-a-vis the Congress Party. God save the youth of the country!
6. Taylor Swift and Travis Scott recently tied the knot, in what was an extravagant wedding at Maddison Square Garden. Many dubbed it a ‘marketing blitzing’ and a show of ‘vanity’. Someone said that Swifties just practice ‘loser politics’ and I couldn’t agree more. This, despite the fact that she got on the wrong side of Donald Trump. Sometimes being anti-Trump and progressive/liberal does not mean the same.
7. Lately I’ve become skeptical of Zohran Mamdani and his politics. I can feel it, just can’t prove it because his governance track record is too good at the moment. Here’s to my hunches coming true.
8. Last May, we had the first US-China Presidential summit in nine years. A lot has changed in this time span . Now Beijing increasingly argues on its own terms. And the US is willing to keep things mellow for the sake of peace, trade and global competition – especially in the case of AI, semiconductors, renewables, space, etc.
9. To my delight I discovered that Parari Muhsin and Mahsar Hamsa have the same interests as me – as far as their Instagram followings are concerned!
10. I just cannot bring myself to keep watching Shayk Rasoul’s absurd takes again. His criticism of the Argentina-Egypt game was the final nail in the coffin. Imam is a big Ronaldo fan too. It’s a no from me. His ultra-conservative slant needs no mentioning either.
11. It’s been approximately 33 months since the Gaza war began and The Economist still can’t fathom why Israel is being isolated on the world stage.
12. Bharadwaj Rangan does ask some pesky unempathetic questions to his guests.
13. My favourite pleasure read this week was the NYT article on the man who hoarded over 10,000 books in his house and had to vacate as the landlord and building authorities deemed the books a fire hazard.
14. Disheartening fact: Looks like the World Bank has ditched its climate targets. Well, Trump was no fan of them in the first place. It was only a matter of time before the Bretton Woods institution folded.

Adios!

‘Know thyself’, the ancient greek adage propounded by none other than Socrates adorn many walls and frames. But knowledge of the self is a double-edged sword. As with everything, there’s a fine line between having too much knowledge and too little. Aristotle’s concept of Middle Path is resonant here. Too much self-awareness can lead one into a spiral of doom-thinking and depression. As we unpack more and more of ourselves, we are likely to imbue our deeper thoughts, unresolved feelings and unhealed wounds with negativity and create a grand narrative that may seem to explain everything that’s wrong in our life. I’m reminded of a very pertinent Shakespearan line, “there’s nothing good nor bad, but thinking makes it so.” And that is the larger truth here. 

The part of the brain that makes us self-aware or self-conscious is the default mode network. In people with depression, this network is overly active. One constantly finds themselves ruminating their problems  and thinking the worst of themselves. C.S. Lewis is his classic ‘The Problem of Pain’ says “the doors of hell are locked on the inside.” How we perceive life shapes our experience of it. If one chooses a doomsday version of everything, they shall reap the same. Self-enslavement is one dangerous offshoot of development in modern society. We live in an age where egoistic fulfilments reign supreme. They are celebrated and are seen as markers of success. Simon Weil foresaw a future riddled with narcissism and emphasised the need to contemplate the world. 

Philosophers of various stripes have for centuries beseeched the common folk to turn inwards. But we have reached an uglier form of inward speculation, where self-introspection has been replaced by self-obsession. Not everyone is guilty of indulging in it. But when a majority sets spark to a way of doing things, “culture” the unfortunate few who are unable co-opt or actively resist initially fall out after a while. The societal narrative pushes out those that don’t fit it. Now we can see one of the reasons why Darwin’s theory of natural selection is much misinterpreted, twisted by natives and fools, embraced by liberals and fascists alike. The strong-weak dichotomy prevails, giving the supposed stronger majority a handy tool to eliminate the “less capable”, and worse, justify their position. 

“Hell is other people” is one of those frequently misinterpreted quotes. It appears as the final line in the play ‘No Exit’. The author of the play, the famous French philosopher Jean Paul Sartre was himself an avid socialite, with many friends and lovers. It would be more appropriate if misanthropes quoted Schopenhauer who haughtily averred, “a high degree of intellect tends to make a man unsocial.” He embraced quietism and had a resignationist attitude to life. It is hard to testify this blunt aphorism. You know it’s bad philosophy when even Nietzsche (another known aphorism-machine) gives it a second thought. 

A study published by Nature Medicine, a journal has some unsurprisingly interesting results. Broadly, people with some form of social contact with regular physical exercise tend to live longer, the study concluded. While we can’t establish a causative relationship between the two because of the nature of the survey that rely on people’s experiences, the evidence in favour is telling. In fact, social contact, such as living with a partner, seems to have a more positive impact on positive well-being than exercising. Social isolation breeds loneliness. Lonely people also tend to eat poorly and move less, thus setting up a vicious cycle where the bad lifestyle aspects reinforce each other. 

We live in a world where hard-core egocentrism has peaked (or has it?). An egomaniacal president reigns supreme over the most powerful country in the world. Autocrats in other countries have dutifully imitated. Nativism is alive and flourishing. Asylum-seekers, especially those from  ethnicities that don’t match the natives’, can be left to perish, the thinking goes. As with all social and cultural phenomenon, we may see the disorienting impact of ego-centrism, at the level of the personal and world, ebb soon. The fear is whether technology has made that reverse course (and hope) impossible. 

This morning I woke up to the news of Donald Trump, America’s (and as he prefers, the world’s) would-be King changing the 145-year old President’s desk of the Oval Office. Tabloids from across the world, as keen as they are to tart up their news items no matter how sleazy or untrue, purport the reason to have been Elon Musk’s son wiping down his booger on the edge of the table as his father was addressing the press beside him. Mr. Trump is a known germaphobe, but would he trouble provoking the ire of his closest mate? I’m circumspect about the conclusion many twitterati have reached at. Surely, the antics of a little unsuspecting boy cannot have been the only reason. 

That said, with the American news-world in a quagmire and so too the rest of the world, I’m compelled to admit that Trump 1.0 was a mere apparition. Trump 2.0 is the real game. From calling Ukraine’s elected president a “dictator” to expressing thoughts of taking over the Panamas, and soon inducting Canada as the 51st state, to backstabbing India with tariffs despite his bonhomie with India’s Prime Minister, there’s much to relish (sadistically) and lament (realistically) about the Trump administration. I am reminded of a great turn of phrase a writer in the FT used to describe the madness surrounding Trump’s second presidency. He remarked, we have moved from viewing the madness as “boringly shocking to shockingly boring.” The madness has become par for the course in 2025. Normalcy has never felt so perturbing in the recent past. The progressives and liberals have become mute spectators, and to an extent innured, to this unravelling madness. 

Why on earth is Europe, who has been doing its fair bit in the war against Russia, on the table for peace settlement? Why is the aggressor’s victim not a party to the talks? Two chums dishing it out in Riyadh — is that how it’s been planned? These are fairly commonsensical questions, but none of them matter to Trump, his whims and ego, and those who partake in it, including Marco Rubio. As a recent FT editorial put it, “if you’re not on the table, you’re on the menu.” If slicing up Ukraine to transfer bits and bobs to Russia (or maybe Kyiv too?) constitutes “art of the deal” for Mr. Trump, I’m afraid it’s a very poor deal. The aggressor isn’t being punished or shown its place. 

The costs on Ukraine are mounting. Russia has been militarily advanced on the battlefield. Ukraine’s economy isn’t in great shape. In addition to a potential handover of territories to Russia, it has to exchange its mineral wealth with the US for its supposedly sumptuous military support. And good luck unearthing all those critical minerals, let alone export, because the contractor-local elite cobweb that controls the rare earth underground empire in Ukraine is one that will decades to untangle. By then, Trump will loafing at Mar-a-Lago. Baron Trump might take off from where his father left it, but would he? — a question for another day. 

Liberal democracy is Europe’s biggest threat, yapped J. D. Vance at the Munich Conference. He has a bone or two to pick with the Europeans. It seems like a pet peeve of the members of this administration to speculate on Europe’s present and future. The extreme right in the continent is cosying up to Musk after his divisive comments. The latest in the pack is the Vice President of the US. The sparring with Rory Stewart about the basic tenets of Bible was entertaining indeed. He seems to be spending more time online pushing the anti-woke agenda than taking real, sensible action. Or perhaps, Musk and his teenaged DOGE boys are at it. 

If anyone needed any convincing that intelligence is not a marker for common sense, and lesser still, for moral principles, Elon Musk is the case exemplar. It is astonishing how a man can seem so unhinged online and spearhead Tesla, Space X and now X itself to success. Four years ago he was tweeting in support of Ukraine. Power can transform people, more for the bad than good. I’ve long believed that history is linear, with every phase being an advancement over the previous, technologically, politically, intellectually, and socially. It appears that political moods are like fashion trends, cycling through bouts of despotism, fascism, statism, liberalism, and back again. The 60s baddies were reckless — remember Marianne Faithfull? — the much-derided boomers of this day. Now they’ve become the harbingers of extreme right-wing movements. Take Reform UK’s supporters, or simply those who attend anti-immigrant rallies. It will not be hard to find an 80-something gaffer stomping with the ferocity of again, might I say, a 60s baddie. War-devastated asylum seekers are at the receiving end of these diatribes. The 1990s economic order is in for a churn with Trump imposing tariffs on every country he dislikes, like a kid throwing confetti on everybody’s plate at a party. Will the madness be temporary – for four years – or could this set the world on a different course for the foreseeable future? The era of the modern-era king has only begun. 

It wouldn’t be uncommon to find someone writing about coffee shops. A trite subject even, for those who find it unexciting or the resort of people who have the luxury of spending hours at a corner by a book in a cafe. 

I’ll address the latter part first. Many coffee shops have sprung up that caters to the class of people who want to be seen as indulging in a high-society activity. To this category belongs many youngsters, especially of the Gen-Z and downwards (alpha?). Posting a snap of your cup of coffee amid the ambient background with the cafe tagged online has become a status symbol. Alas, the young are in their blooming years, when paradoxically they feel insecure and act naive in an attempt to carve an identity. Let’s be a little forgiving and set aside these new-age epicureans in the guise of stoics. In some years they may look back at these antics in embarrassment.  

Yet in this part of the world at least, frequenting coffee shops is indeed associated with the rich and upper middle classes. One can find quite some writers, journalists, businessmen brushing through the doors of several cafes in the city throughout the day. Conversations, long and brief, take over several cups of coffee. Some can be seen storming away at their keyboards, perhaps finishing up a story for the news cycle. 

Coffee shops are for me a place where one can be left alone to do one’s work yet feel that they’re part of a larger community. Desks with laptops and books atop with someone nosily poring over their screen. The extra-hot coffee might be sitting undisturbed for several minutes before you as you slog away, but the world keeps moving. There’s motion around you, the clicks of keyboards, the ahs of exasperation,  the whirring of the coffee machine and the small murmur talks between lovebirds over, as always, a mocha. As you look up from time to time, it’s a chance to observe people of different hues. I’m bemused at the variety of people that populate this world — the anxious one who looks at the menu several times before placing an order, the safe-goer who prefers the latte — an additional syrup would be a travesty for them — and the easy going ones always willing to experiment with something new. 

This illustration by Ruby Wright inspired me to write about coffee shops. Like me, she frequents them and can’t stop sketching them.

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A post shared by Ruby Wright (@rubywrightlino)

The world of work may have moved indoors with WFH mechanisms, more food-delivery apps that will bring you the best food to your doorstep from anywhere in the city, and perhaps even more affordable coffee machines on the market. Yet the classic coffee shop has been a mainstay of the quiet social life, in the past as well as in the present. The existentialist philosophers, Sartre, Beauvoir, Camus and the like, discussed ideas over several cups of coffee in quaint French cafés. Even now you’ll find people discussing everything from politics to business to anything personal in the same spaces. Times may have changed, but the essence of conversations have remained the same. I can’t however help but wonder if the substance of the words exchanged have dimmed over the years. Chatter or otherwise, the good old coffee, and my favourite Cortado is here to stay.