Footprints in the sands of time...and in the hearts of the multitude

I don’t know how to write this, without feeling out of my depth here. Primarily because sports has never intrigued me to the point of penning down my thoughts around the subject. But I will give it my best shot, anyway.

I do not feel I am in my element when I discuss sports. Never have been, and I don’t think I ever will be. Even back when I was in school, I would consciously steer clear of questions revolving around sports in quiz programmes. I would ignore the section comprising sports questions in competitive exams. But this time around, I think I am willing to make an exception. Why? Only because it involves Sachin.

When we say Sachin – at least in India – We mean only one Sachin. Tendulkar. There might be a number of people around who share his name (hoping to share some of his charisma too!). But like I said, Sachin is an adjective, a verb, a brand in himself. People use a number of superlatives – all in the positive light – when it comes to describing Sachin. I am sure he has made a special niche in the hearts of not just Indians, but perhaps every person who has known him directly or indirectly over the years. And the impact he has had in our lives is profound, at the very least.

So Saturday, November 16, 2013 will be forever etched in every Indian’s mind, as the day the ‘God of Cricket’ stepped down from his throne. It was the hardest day not just for Sachin, for bidding farewell to his life’s passion, Cricket, but even more so for his horde of fans across the world, who are still reeling from the fact that Sachin will never play cricket again for them. It is still sinking in slowly. For a long time afterward, my husband kept ‘tsk-tsk’ing to himself, sadness writ large on his face.

I am not a cricket buff. Honestly. And I say this with utter fear of collective ridicule from perhaps every Indian, friends and strangers alike! I thought through thoroughly before admitting the fact. But well, there it is. So even as a cricket agnostic, it is impossible not to be affected by Sachin’s farewell. For me, whatever little cricket meant, was synonymous with the great man. I can be persuaded to watch the game only if Sachin is on the crease. Sachin has touched so many lives with his game. He has managed to unite an entire nation of Hindus, Muslims, Christians, Parsis, Sikhs, Jains, Buddhists – literally obliterating differences between man and his neighbor. Cricket can stop the business world in its tracks with half of India on tenterhooks whenever Sachin is on the field. President Obama was rightfully concerned when he mentioned America’s production goes down by 5% whenever Sachin comes to bat.

His farewell speech, the longest by his standards so far and most revealing about his life, moved the nation to tears. It held the audience glued to every visible television set and by the end of what was a life’s tale spoken straight from the heart; left viewers with the thought that people like Sachin are extremely rare. No matter how much they achieve in life, they are never tainted by fame or power or wealth or controversy. He has bowed out of the game with grace, his humility, simplicity and honesty intact. These have been the most endearing things about him, worth idolizing. He has left in footprints in the sands of time and in the hearts of the multitude.

Tomorrow, the nation can go back to its differences of religion, caste, gender, creed and all possible self-made barriers. Tomorrow, they can live their mundane lives and look for different pastimes. Tomorrow, people may continue to watch cricket or choose to stay away from the cricket mania. But today, we will glory in the fact that we were fortunate enough to witness a star perform during our lifetime. And now, without any qualms, I can go back to my cricket-free world.

Mirage

I know you are not here yet.

You are just an illusion, my dear.

A mirage on the thirsty sands of my heart.

Like a dream that disappears with the morning mist.

I have not felt your presence yet,

You are but a figment of my imagination.

A memory of a favourite but long forgotten song,

Flickering in my mind, just out of reach.

I look for you with famished eyes,

Praying for a glimmer of hope, a sign, any sign.

This cycle of hope and despair is too much to bear,

And I can no longer pretend not to care.

I have been a believer and an atheist alike.

I have reasoned with, groveled, and threatened God.

I have cursed my fate and yet trudged on ahead,

My faith renewed, until the next time.

I know not if there is a light at the end of this tunnel

For, today you are a mystery in the twilight

But you will be here with me one day, by my side.

Real, tangible, all smiles and warmth and beauty.

So much Blah!

It is one of those chilly, ‘the-office-admin-doesn't-know-shit-about-AC-modulation’ days in office when you sit staring at the unyielding laptop till your eyes begin to water, lost in thought while the voices of people around you cease make any kind of sense…

Yeah, you got it right..! Everybody has one of those somniferous days when there’s loads of work to be done and yet your heart is just not in it. Today’s just one of those days, I guess. I curse the insensitive Admin team for the umpteenth time for the malfunctioning AC. I look up at the top of my team-mate Bala’s head peeking out of his work-station, across the partition and contemplate taking his trip. May be something about his non-existent love life despite his typical Malyali good looks. Or his name, like I usually do. ‘Blaaah’, I usually call him, since it is much more fun than the traditional sounding ‘Bala’. Or ‘Balaouse’. Or ‘Balobashi’. Or ‘Balaatkari’. Or 'Bala ki jaana main kaun'The list goes on.  But naah! Not today. Not that he’s not a good sport. He’s a great sport, actually. Laughs it all off most days and maybe makes a witty, sarcastic comeback occasionally. Today, I just don’t feel all that creative. Just bored.

I look around at my boss-cum-bitchin buddy ‘V’. She too is typing away at her laptop, at break-neck speed. Perhaps she is busy whacking her boss in a war of words. My interest is piqued and I walk over to her.

“Hey! What’s cooking, babe?” I ask.

“What else?” She rolls her eyes at me pointing at the mail she has been reading. I peer over her shoulder to see a mail from one of the so called “Big shots” who seemed to be blaming her for all that he had failed to do correctly. Typical boss-giri at its heights.

“That jackass still on about his inflated sense of superiority?”

“I wish I didn’t have to deal with such morons every day” She sighs.

I ‘tsk-tsk’ my sympathy. I am no stranger to these morons she deals with. I deal with them too. They are pampered, over-paid, pompous pieces of s*#t who don’t know which end of their bodies they speak through. They can screw anyone for things that they themselves screwed up. They play cheap blame games and never own up to their mistakes. Their callous attitudes and incompetence cost resourceful, competent employees their jobs while they themselves climb the corporate ladder, sucking up to the top guns to secure themselves.

“Let him go on ranting about his two bits. Who cares? Why lose your peace of mind over people who will not change even if their lives depended on it? Not worth it.” I tell her.

“True. But for my peace of mind, I have to give him a piece of my mind. It’s high time” She scowls, staring at the laptop.

Hmm…I smile at her aggressiveness. I like the change I have been seeing in her lately. People usually take her niceness for granted. This version of her is a welcome change. She is one of those passionate, raring-to-go people who like to get the job done and expect the best because they give the best. She gets her hands dirty whenever necessary and never shirks her responsibilities by shedding them off to her subordinates. She is one of those ‘dream bosses’ who are human beings first and bosses next. She always stands up for her team and encourages them to do their best.

“If that is what you want, go ahead, give him what he deserves. It is better to stay honest to oneself any day” I back her up vociferously, finally losing my lethargy and feeling energized. “There is very little sanity left in the world. Let’s maintain ours at least!”

Smiling, she hit the send button. “I’m done. This should show him I'm not his doormat".

I smile back and look over at Bala who is yawning away in glory. "Come, Blah. Let’s all go grab a cup of tea!"

The Right Angle

I have always been intrigued by the saying “The right to swing your fist ends where the other person’s nose begins”. It goes both ways. If you are the one with the swinging fist, you need to be careful where it lands. While one has the freedom to stand by one’s beliefs and follow one’s heart, it is equally important to be cognizant of one’s boundaries and the repercussions of one’s actions. On the other hand, if your’s is the nose that is supposed to dodge the fist, what stance do you take?

What does it take to be true to oneself and yet ensure one doesn’t step on other’s toes? Politeness is one thing, meekness is another. While one represents good attitude and good sense, the other underscores cowardice. One needs to be keenly aware of that fine balance between being politely firm and being subservient. One need not hurt others physically or emotionally to achieve one’s purpose. But more importantly, one need not bend over backwards to accommodate the whims and fancies of the “powerful”. Once there is clarity in one’s motivation, confidence in one’s actions and compassion for one’s fellow being well prioritized, taking a firm stance is not all that difficult.

How important is it really to be liked by all? Can anybody really be in everybody’s good books all the time? Is it even humanly possible to be that perfect? I think not. Even if we strive to be at our best behavior at all times, there is no guarantee that we will not fall through the occasional cracks. Everybody wants to be perceived as the best, as “Mr. Likeable" or "Ms. Likeable”. That would be a great thing, had there not been a fly in the ointment. And a big, ugly, messy one at that – Our humanness. Human beings are prone to erring and being imperfect. We are fragile and flawed.

There are all kinds of people-pleasers who will do anything, agree to anyone just so they do not have to deal with any kind of unpleasantness. Then there are those who find it easier to be bullied and stay bullied rather than stand up for themselves and speak up for what they believe to be right. Every day we encounter such people. In our social circle or in our work-places, there is no dearth of sycophants. It is sad to see that people do not stand up for themselves, let alone standing up for one’s fellow being in times of crisis. There are people who wouldn't think twice before riding on another’s back or grabbing another’s limelight. But the worst of the lot are those who constantly crib about the unfairness of life, their bosses, their subordinates, their misfortunes and what not. They perpetually appear wronged by life, but take no steps to better it consciously. They end up spreading negativity and scouring the lives of those around them.

As children, we are taught to embrace honesty and grow up to be upright citizens. We are asked to be moral, idealistic and forthright. To be fearless. To do the right thing. But with the passage of time, innocence is corrupted. One has to learn the ways of the world or be the outcast. One has to suck up to the powerful and make compromises with one’s beliefs or be ridiculed or punished. 

In the end, the question that matters is – “is it really worth it?” Is it not more important to be able to sleep at night with a clear conscience?

Even with all our human shortcomings and frailty, it is not the end of the world. We need to be positive in outlook for a healthy sustenance. We need to tap into our internal well of positivity and seek hope. To be better than we were yesterday. To learn from our mistakes and move on. To swing our palm in a hi-five, rather than make a fist to punch.