Paradise Regained

The road to perdition started one fine Sunday morning in November end. Couldn’t bell the cat. IIFT was inscrutable. Screwed the SNAP. JMET jettisoned me. XAT was sucking. Finally FMS was a respite and left me with a feel good factor. Only after the results I do know how fucking great was it. Though I could nod a sigh of relief that the grueling exam period is over, all these left me with a feeling that I am a loser in life.

Something inside told me that ‘Why don’t you take away your life? You are not good at anything’. It was not just the exam results about which I am getting perturbed. Being servile to some one who reports you just the error log and asks for resolution or doing a job just for the sake of getting salary is no fun. It’s all shit in the working hours and at the end of the day I was going to bed with a heavy heart. Mental agitation was reaching the pinnacle of my life.

I was discussing this with one of my close friends. Told him, I just have 3 things in mind ‘Get into a B-school (the prospects of which are bleak) or Get out of this project (the chances of which are as remote as rain in the desert) or death (the only viable option)’. He was surprised by hearing this and asked me whether I was serious. I just nodded(Coz one of my other close friends was saying the same thing with 3 diff options but for fun). He threw in a riposte, “Yaar, Think about the two souls that created you back home. What bad they have done for you? They have spent their entire life in bringing you up and you are just going to shell their dreams just because you feel depressed. It is nothing but horrendous. If you are not happy with this project go and talk to your PL and ask for release or if possible quit this job. Moreover Life is not only about being an MBA, you can be an successful entrepreneur even without becoming one.’

He was telling me the options I have in life and told me that so many people don’t even have the opportunities that I have. He asked me to pay a visit to an orphanage that he has frequented, once. He told me the story of a small boy he had seen there. The chap was yearning for his parents’ love and still had hope that one day his parents gonna come and take him home. It made me think some what. But the icing on the cake was the apt panacea that he told me his father had suggested. ‘Next time you think of depression, Just make a paste of green or red chilly and rub it in your ass. All the depression would be gone’. Though I never tried that, I can perceive how it will be and how bad a plight I would be in. The only thing that I would be worried about that time is how to get out of that filth. ‘Then relax and ponder over what I have told you and how preposterous is your view of life’.

I thought, ok let me chuck the CAT etc and think about something more useful than it. If I could make a world of difference to atleast a single person who is in dire need of help, I think I have made my life worth living. The mist that had surrounded my head is still there. But I feel it can be cleared.

Sorry if this note turns into an advisory one. How the road to perdition can be changed to the road to incarnation is in our hands. Approach everything with a positive mind and think about the millions who are below you in various forms of life. Sure you can make them come up in life. So mate, keep a paste of chilly ready and the next time you feel depressed just don’t forget to spread it down your bums.

A Homage

When one is down, so many things happen round your head and you feel as if a dementor is sucking your soul and you are left only with your worst memories. But a wizard will still be there in some cases to wield the Patronus Charm to drive them away. India has been able to produce one such in its own backyard without having a Hogwartz of its own.

In a cricketing field, when the first Indian wicket is down, bowlers start licking their lips with a demntor kinda look of ‘gimme more’ in their ebullient faces. Cometh the hour, the scrawny guy with a school boyish face walks down the middle with a sheer determination. He is indifferent to the atmosphere he is in. Unfazed by the sledges thrown at him, he just shows two fingers at the umpire, asks for his guard and takes his position. A furtive glance around and down the pitch and with his left elbow drooping forward he signals the bowler, who looks like a predator, that he is ready for action. One can infact hear the rhythmic music of his bat thumping down again and again on the pitch while eagerly waiting for the opera to unfold. But none happens. The ball dancing thro the air after unfettering itself from the palm of the bowler is just touched down to safety or left free with a ‘take care baby’ saying in the safe hands of the keeper. The moment the bowler sees this he gets a hunch, ‘The phenomenon has begun’.

Rebels please move over. Let’s welcome the purist. No glitches, No hoop ups. Fielders, sorry mates, its gonna be that day when even the God has to bend down to take the offering. Nothing is gonna come out of air. More the time he spends, more impenetrable he becomes and acts like a Terminator on his duty to guide the team to safety. Balls are treated on their merit and there is a touch of class and poise in all the shots. Think, he loves the kith and kin of the pitch. The smell of grass in fact acts like a potion that keeps him glued and develops a special affinity. An occasional smile turns up only when the hamperings are lead astray and the rivulet is about to join the ocean .

This kind of scenario, one can even say is clichéd, if you are an ardent follower of Indian Cricket. The team has risen to glorious heights in the past 5 years in Test and ODI cricket and one would associate only one person with this monstrous success.

To put in simple words, Rahul ‘The Wall’ Dravid is the man, of the team, for the team and who stands by the team. Blending with his fellow mates and doing sacrifices for the squad has become his forte and he has a penchant for carrying the onus on his shoulders. Off the pitch, he is a gentleman to the core and humility personified. No emotional out breaks, No frivolous comments, No deprecation, No pompous speech. Pure Grit and common sense prevails in all his actions . He just restrains himself and his team from being targeted by the parparazzi. He has embodied the cricketing spirit and fever in a nation where the sport is a religion and cricketers are being deified. He has enough credentials to pen a book titled ‘Art of Living and Cricket’. What he is, can be only envisaged here and for a man of his stature even euphemisms bend to have a softer and a positive note attached to it.

Lets all thank Mr Sharath, Ms Pushpa and the Almighty for bringing the gem to earth 33 years ago. Fortunately, the day I felt that I should join the blogging fraternity has coincided with the birthday of such a great idol. I felt it is my obligation to pay a homage by contributing my first blog to one of the amazing Indians. A hearty wish for an immortal career from a mortal and may the world see many of his sorceries in the years to come. May the wizard unveil his magic wand and lead India to its prime in the summer of 2007.

For the bloggers and net surfers, wishing you a wonderful new year and success in all your endeavors. Hope you visit often and throw in your comments to my (sometimes drabJ) scribblings. I am here trying to make a difference with my views and writings with help from you folks.