The Fear Factor!!!

RajanThambehalli1 Comment

Last week, mundanity returned as I started my journey (I love to call this 2km walk early morning as journey) after a long hiatus. My scheduled routine was interrupted by my travel visits to Goa, Kolkata, and Chennai thrice. The wanderlust bug always coincided with my morning walks.

The weather is getting chilly as we approach the mid-winter, but that doesn’t hinder me from getting out of my house at around 3 50 early mornings.
Usually, I take the main roads, but the shortest route to my stop involves a narrow lane.

I have heard stories in various parts of Bangalore about dog menace. Since I love this shift timing compared to the ‘general shift,’ I don’t mind waking up early.

There are reasons which motivate me to get up early. The first thing would be, ‘I am a loser if I do not get up, Let what people thing about me being zany, but to me, I would be one loser, and ultimately, if I don’t live up to my expectations, does it matter pleasing others in the long run?

I like taking weird routes at times; early mornings allow me to walk in dead silence. Since my house is on the main road, silence is premium, which we hardly get. So it’s a good thing to walk through the mist, albeit a cool breeze can sometimes be too tough to handle. Nevertheless, we are humans, and we have evolved and adapted to various conditions, so with more exposure, we shall be alright.

I prefer talking during the next few minutes about how I want my life to go. It makes sense to me to hear what I say since no one around me is making noise. If I am bugging myself, I count the steps I take, and I ensure over the week, I would have reached a constant number while counting.

This is to ensure how concentrated I am for a particular task when gamut topics and issues are competing to finish ahead in the brain marathon.

I am awake when the whole world is sleeping, % wise; I am correct with this statement. I am walking when others are tired or just about enjoying their sleep. I am getting a chance to utilize this morning to make suitable changes in my life and be better at things that I believed were good previously. I am getting a chance to use these early hours to my advantage and finish something, which makes me feel I have gained time for others.

Ok, enough of me being explicit on why I like early mornings.

At times, the fear element is there; at times, I have chosen different roads to reach since the road ahead was occasionally patrolled by street dogs.

I fiddled around four different ways before settling on to the least risk path. Mind you; I was scared one day when a group of dogs was barking as though they haven’t opened their mouth in a long time.

It reached a point wherein the least risk path was also getting affected. Now I loved this road and route. So one day, I decided, ‘Its karma,’ if I am supposed to be bitten by a dog, I cannot avoid it. Slowly I started walking past them, goosebumps all over my body as I went past them.

Woof, what a relief. The other side of fear is freedom.

Last week, a ferocious dog, just one, was barking and staring at me simultaneously. It was scary. Two seconds, I decided to walk straight without bothering what it might do.

It started barking more, but I was marching ahead without looking at it.

The barking intensity increased, but I could notice it was moving backward and barking.

Now, I was looking at the dog and approaching it; it was moving backward and barking. It stopped finally and ran away, stopped, and as I went past it, it didn’t do anything.

Am I lucky??? You can club me into that category.

But I would like to look at it this way.

The rest of my walk was more on thinking as to why the dog behaved this way.

‘Fear was – Being bitten by the dog.’

Last year, fear was, climbing Mount Abu, but I overcame it by facing that fear of losing than avoiding it.

I faced fear and started walking towards it. Now all I can think of is,

I was exposed to the unknown. I always felt that I feared when I encountered a new situation, and the fear element resulted from many uncertainties involved about what if this new thing goes wrong.

The same applied to the dog; when a dog barks, the typical reaction would be to back off and go backward or runaway, fearing dog bites. Now, this is what a dog expects.

I did the opposite, and to my surprise, I saw the dog moving backward and eventually ceased its ferocity as I kept marching. It was exposed to a zone of uncertainty, and hence fear element would creep, so it was confused as to what needs to be done, and by the time it decides, I was through.

So, in a way, this did give me to understand what ‘Walking towards fear rather than away’ actually meant.

It’s a nice story. The one in which I emerged victoriously. Things could have been different if a dog had behaved poorly or encountered a mad dog.

But, as a student of life, I always feel one needs to look at it in all respects, so this time I was convinced ‘You can walk towards your fears and emerge triumphantly.’ Next time, it may or it may not. But I am happy that I did something different than last time, and it worked.

I got reminded of a quote from Anne Frank:
“The best remedy for those who are afraid, lonely, or unhappy is to go outside, somewhere where they can be quiet, alone with the heavens, nature, and God. Because only then does one feel that all is as it should be and that God wishes to see people happy, amidst the simple beauty of nature.”

This was just an experience I wanted to share about how I experimented with my life when the same situation was encountered. All life is an experiment. The more experiments you make, the better.

Ok, my journey to work is about 90 minutes, which is enough for me to catch up on sleep to and fro, which makes me sleep simultaneously, or in general, most people choose to rest.

So what can happen to me tomorrow????

Let’s put it this way….. I am not afraid of tomorrow, for I saw yesterday and I love today and have never been in such deep love.

It will take some time to pull off those lines in full conviction, but the effort has to be made, and what better day than today and the best time would be now……….

Life is a bar of chocolate………….

RajanThambehalli3 Comments

After a while, I am back, wherein I had planned many times to fill this up. Most of the time, situations made me be in a position of lurking at things.

The question is, what made me write after a long time??

First thing, I didn’t want my blog to sere up without any new additions. Secondly, I enjoy writing about my adventures, or in simple terms, I love writing what I feel like.

Finally, this happens to be the reason for this particular blog post.

Eighteen years back, we all know Sachin made his debut. But this isn’t about it. Somewhere in Bangalore, I was a school going student, and I was in class one at that time.

I commuted via rickshaw, which was hired to pick and drop me to school and home. I used to be agog to play my peevish or say pettish tricks, making some of my fellow mates and teachers (not everyone though) go mad.

Chocolates, I love them. I never forced anyone to have chocolates and always fought with my sister to have her share also. I am the happiest guy when I see chocolates and people not liking them. How can someone hate chocolates?

The answer is simple, ‘How can you hate having curds?’ Many people ask me this. I can understand, but curds and chocolates cannot be compared. But who cares if people don’t like chocolates.

REWIND:
While I was getting ready to go to school (1989), I saw an advert for Campco bar chocolate in the newspaper. I wanted this badly. My dad didn’t concur with my constant pleading. I even threatened not to go to school if I didn’t get my Campco.

Finally, my dad agreed, and he promised me he would get one in the evening. I refused and forced him to get this choco bar at that moment.

By this time, my pickup had arrived. I had to go to school. I refused to get inside the rickshaw.

After a while, my dad gave in. I asked my dad to come along with me to school. On our way to school, I knew a shop that used to sell these Campco bars. So my dad was forced to come along with me in the auto. He was leaving to work, and many times, he used to take the same route to catch his bus to work. He came along with me with his suitcase, which had many of his files in it.

I was so happy. I could imagine how well the bar would be melting inside my mouth. I felt like a mollycoddle.

Just before the shop, there is a crossroad, wherein my dad usually used to take a right, and I was supposed to go straight on the same road to school. I was surprised when he asked the rickshaw guy to stop at the crossroad.

I asked, ‘The shop is not here, why stopping?’

My dad got down and instructed the auto driver to go to school. That’s it.

I was shattered, and I kept shouting my dad’s name. By the way, I call him ‘Anna.’ I kept yelling ‘Anna, Anna………’

Tears……..

I was furious, and I couldn’t stop myself crying and shouting about what happened. The auto was heading towards the school, and I was screaming for not having my chocolate bar. Later, I did complain to my mom about this incident.

My dad, the usual way, just started laughing about it.

I don’t remember whether I got my choco bar. My instinct says I did get it after few days. Now, no matter what, I can never forgive my dad for what he did. I can’t get over this, even though it’s a silly point.

I never bring up this ‘so-called’ kinder- heartbreaking issue with him, but this incident happens to be my recurring dream. It keeps coming back to me.
I had cried when I was alone many times when I think about this incident.

Now, last Sunday, I had kept my chocolates safely in the freezer. My sister’s share, along with mine, was both saved. Later, when I returned, I saw there wasn’t to be any more left. I was furious and asked my sister about this. She pointed out, ‘dad had your share.’

Now, I just said, ‘Dad, why you have to do all these things? I still get reminded of what you did to me when I was a kid?’

Although, my dad and sister didn’t have much clue as to which incident I was mentioning. I was upset. With a smile, I went back to my room, and that’s it.

It’s silly, but many things do stay like this, and when I look back, my dad had given me many things I had asked him for, then why I need to be unhappy about what happened when I was a kid.

Last year, I had promised my niece I would be getting her fruit cake that night so that she could carry them to school the next day. I failed to live up to my promise, and I did call up my sister to say I am sorry; I didn’t get any. She said, ‘It seems you had promised her.’

I had to leave early the next morning to work. When I was about to leave, I got reminded of the above incident and how bad I felt for not getting what I was promised.

My niece won’t understand why I didn’t get it. She might forget this after some time. But, I didn’t want to take chances, and I didn’t want to give an inch so that she feels terrible for not getting her fruit cake.

Instead of catching the cab, I waited for one and half hours so that the confectionary guy opened his store and after some time, I took a parcel of fruit cake. I went to my niece’s place.

She was taking a bath. I just kept the cake on the table.

My sis asked, ‘Why you had to do all these things, you should have gone to work, she is young, and she will forget it within a day.’

I just replied, ‘I just know how it feels, especially when young, when you don’t get after a promise was made.’

I left. I was a relieved man. That evening, I played with my niece, ‘Thank you, Maamu, for the cake,’ she remarked.

A smile on her face, and it was very satisfying for me.

My Favourite Chocolate quote: “Life is a box of chocolates; you never know which one you get.” In my case, I have a vivid memory of when I missed it.

The Stick Game!!! Chak De

RajanThambehalli2 Comments

I am writing this as a fond memory of a person who was instrumental in picking up a game that I wasn’t aware of at that time (1991-92), although it was short-lived.

Meet Dr. KrishnaSwamy, a highly respected doctor revered for his skills as a doctor in Chintamani, Kolar district. He retired and spent the latter part of his life with each of his son’s place. (3 to 6 months on a shift basis).

He was known as a person I heard my cousins calling him ‘Doctor Thatha (Dr. Grandpa).’ This was how I knew him when I was barely three years old. Since I do not remember much time spending with him until I reached seven years, I cannot recall any interaction with him before this.

It was 1991, and towards the end of the year, I vividly remember that he stayed at our place. By this time, I was famous or infamous at times for my antics at home and everywhere my parents took me along. Dennis the Menace, my nickname, and co-incidentally Dennis, is also one of my sporting idols (Dennis Bergkamp from the Netherlands).

FlashBack 1991-92:
Early morning, I used to wake up. My grandpa would be chatting with my mom. He used to help my mom, making her task a bit easy by cutting the vegetables and catering to other needs. He just loved doing all such things, especially about the kitchen stuff.

One day, I fondly remember that I asked him, ‘I am 7 years, how old are you?’
I didn’t get an answer; he just replied, I am too old. I didn’t question him further.

He wasn’t the sophisticated sort of doctors I had seen previously. Doctors to me were the people who were associated with syringes, vitriolic tablets, which my mom used to crush and dissolve in hot water for appeasing me whenever I refused to swallow a pill.

I never believed the fact that he was a doctor. He never dressed up like one and never had a clinic. Although, I did see him go to our neighbour’s house now and then and do a routine check-up, mainly through words and at times by prescribing few medicines.

He was bald, had a charming face, and used to smile very often. Never, I saw him get depressed either with his age-related problems or any other issues. He was vivacious, and that helped me because I never liked people who were idle and morose. I wanted everyone to play alongside me or at least allow me to play my pranks.

555 was his brand that I wasn’t aware of until I caught him once in the restroom and asked him what this smoke is doing here and why it smells terrible and vitiating our toilet???

He was embarrassed, and later my dad told me, it’s the same as what your uncles do. That was it, I mean, it was an explanation for what we call ‘smoking,’ and somehow I wasn’t curious ever after in my life to find out what exactly it was or how it tasted.

I was fascinated by my grandpa because he used to feed me right after I returned from school. He used to make a glass of hot milk for me; it had Boost in it.

I used to love Boost because it was associated with cricketers. I am not sure whether Sachin used to endorse it in 1991, but I am sure after the 1992 World Cup, Kapil Dev and Sachin did endorse the brand.

Later, I had a penchant for the taste of Bournvita powder compared to boost; hence, I stopped drinking Boost; instead, I started eating lots of Bournvita powder for which my teeth used to be coated with brown powder my mom and dad used to blast me.

Till the age of 15, I was addicted to eating Bournvita powder.

My grandpa hated me for one reason. I used to run away with his walking stick whenever he wasn’t using it. While he was at our neighbour’s place or at our place, he was always being vexed by me, primarily when I used to snatch his walking stick in front of him.

He used to shout and knew it was momentarily because he wasn’t vindictive in his approach, not even complaining to my parents. But whenever I did this in front of my parents, my mom glared at me, but my dad never said anything.

Now, what was in this stick that made me go crazy over it? I was a genuine follower of sports, mainly cricket and tennis, at that time.

I had my cricket bat, but I used this stick to imitate a cricketer’s innings.

When they had scored big runs, replicating shot by shot, giving commentary to myself (it had similar words those used by the commentators) and used to enjoy vicariously what a cricketer went through.

Sometimes, after the 1992 Cricket World Cup, I read a funny name in one of the sports columns of Deccan Herald. In the local language, his last name sounded funny. ‘Pillay’ and I used to call many people Chota Pillay (small dwarf). I was eight years and looked at me; I used to call my peers by this name.

He played a game, what I called a ‘stick game.’ And believe it or not, the hockey stick resembled my grandpa’s walking stick.

After a yearning Cricket World Cup for the Indian team and us having to watch others play, the Olympics was something everyone was looking for. I was sad not to see India in the 1992 World Cup finals, but cricket was my priority and religion, so it didn’t matter at all.

After getting impressed with hockey, I used his stick to play hockey in our house compound. Using a tennis ball, I used to dribble and score goals, with the wall being the goal post.

I never played this sport outside our compound because only I had the stick, and not even a single friend had a grandpa who used walking sticks. Relatively healthy those grandpas. Mind you, it wasn’t easy at that time to buy a hockey stick because; we had just purchased a cricket kit and my parents and my friend’s parents didn’t agree when we asked for a hockey stick.

So hockey happened to be a solo sport for me. But, crazy that I was, a few months later, when we bought cricket wickets, we used that to play hockey.

My grandpa’s hockey stick, I mean, walking stick, served my so-called ‘an insane’ ambition of playing hockey.

This routine of stealing his stick continued for months.

Oct 1992. A grand party was arranged at our terrace. All possible cousins and relatives gathered on this occasion.

It was: ‘Grandpa’s birthday.’ On top of the chocolate cake, the following words were creamed –’ Grand Dad 82′. My father and my paternal uncles organized the party. “My grandpa is 82 years”, wondered I.

The party’s instant ramification was to see my grandpa being shifted to one of my uncle’s houses (he juggled between his sons’ homes). Although it was very close to where we lived, I could sense a void of him not being there. Of course, it wasn’t just for the stick, but I missed him.

Four months later, in Feb 1993, he passed away at our uncle’s place while my mom fed him with a glass of water. He had diabetes, and hence the heart attack he suffered didn’t come to our notice. I was at home sleeping when he departed.

The next day, it was just hard to believe that he was no more. I had seen people die in the movies, but, to me, this was the first time I ever had to witness the lamenting situation. Being a grandson, I was made to do some rituals, just like my other cousins performed.

The stick was burnt along with his corpse, and except for a few photos and memories, there aren’t any vestiges of him left with me.

Some years back, I found few letters he had written to my mom while he was at our uncle’s place. He used to mention my mom as ‘DIL’ (Daughter-in-law) in short, while he wrote his daily routine and other things.

I haven’t seen the movie ‘Chak De India’ to date. I haven’t seen full promos of the film to date. All I have heard is that it resembles Mir Ranjan Negi’s life story, a former Indian hockey player; it’s a good movie, and Preethi Sabarwhal played by Sagarika Ghatge, is hot.

But the whole notion of the movie being based on our so-called national game (not officially) brought back those days when I used to snatch the walking stick from my grandpa.

In hindsight, I feel I would have enjoyed talking about many things about life with him if he were to be around today. Rather than cribbing about him not being there, I was at least destined to have met him, even if it was for a short time.

I never played hockey for the past 13-14 years because it never suited my fellow mates; also, we enjoyed cricket, football, tennis, and baseball more than hockey.

I hope the trend changes, and soon we see hockey reach the heights once again and add more Olympic gold medals with eight already being won (World record – 6 in a row from 1928 Amsterdam to 1956 Melbourne). The last one was in Moscow in 1980.

This is to my grandpa and his fantastic walking stick. I hope grandpa’s walking sticks can do wonders to reignite hockey’s passion, which is at its nadir at the moment.

Love Story – My Way

RajanThambehalli1 Comment

Some events are not sure. When that uncertainty surfaces in our life, things shall not be the same. For a moment, many things we encounter tend to obfuscate us.
Past experiences will help us see through the situation, or else we need to experience it for the first time.

Many things will be fresh, and it is what one learns out of it and uses it effectively next time around, the individuals stand out. The situation will be a precipice on the mind. One such case is to decide about parting ways.

It is confounding to decide when to part and, more importantly, whom to part with. Being humans, we are controlled by several motives. Ultimately it boils down to personal ethics and personal benefits. Benefits can come through ethics, but it is subjective.

To me, truth is much bigger than what we see, hear or experience. What we get is just part of it.

I recently read “Love Story” by Eric Segal. For me, the novel’s quote inspired me to read this book.

The word ‘Preppie’ used by the lover girl to call her lover boy gives me Goosebumps.

I hear things must be done this way, that way. Similarly, I have listened to many times as to how a relationship must work. At times, one shall get good advice but to generalize all situations to one is highly unbelievable.

As I said, we tend to generalize with what we call reality, and this reality is relative and can rise to many opinions, which all might sound logical, but it might not be the right key.

The book shows the narrator and hero Oliver IV being obnoxious when it came to his dad (Oliver III) and his behavior. It just showcased an overwrought individual having walked under the glory of his father all through his life.

Never really a sincere effort was made to reconcile his differences with his dad.

A girl named Jennifer came into Oliver’s life. He was rich, and she was poor.

He claimed that she wasn’t that great looking, and she just replied, “I know. But can I help it if you think so?”

It was more than just physical attraction. Complete opposites, but still, they didn’t require some occult to make them get attracted and fall in love.

The next question after love sows its seeds in their hearts. She wasn’t sure whether the relationship would work because of her background.

He was serious, and he did leave his parents for her. This is how the story proceeds further. I don’t want it to be continued here.

Instead, I would appreciate the quote which made me read this book.

“Love means never having to say you’re sorry.”

For most things, I would agree with this because love can come only when we accept each other the way we are. At times, things won’t be perfect, and we tend to be prone to errors. Hence, if sorry could reverse the aftermath of a decision, then the ‘sorry’ word will be equivalent to a dose of panacea.

But since yesterday, I started to wonder about the other side of this quote.
I questioned, “Hey, what do I mean love means never having to say you’re sorry?”

“Love means being able to say you’re sorry when you have hurt the person you love so much… and being able to forgive…..”

We are emotionally fixed to certain limits. Hence the word sorry can soothe the disturbed souls.

To me, the above two quotes sum up the words, ‘ love and relationship.’ In a way, both are different sides of the same coin.

Also, love need not be the only thing that can bind two people. There are many factors associated with it. Like a dish, many ingredients contribute to its good taste; similarly, a good relationship is not based only on love.

To me, Only love is not enough.

Regarding the sorry thingies, the apology comes, and even the concerned is forgiven. It was love that made one apologize, and it was the same reciprocation of love the one dismissed.

I don’t know whether this line holds good- We meet to part and part to meet. Maybe our paths meet someday.

And who said the feelings for the special one you love is perpetual?

It can but to me,

“It takes someone very special to help you forget someone very special.”

Till we discover that very special it will be a little tough to forget someone very special.

“Thanks, Ollie” was her last word.

She wasn’t to be a part of his life for a long time, but she did play a role in binding the uncouth differences a son had of his father. At least they ended up being together.

Life isn’t that cruel after all. From what I have learned, each one has to fight his/her own battles.

To end

He will be asking these questions for some time:

“What can you say about a twenty-three old girl who died and wasn’t part of me? That she was beautiful and brilliant? That she loved music, candles, books, power, public affection, and me???”

MEET GANDHI- THE FATHER OF OUR NATION

RajanThambehalli2 Comments

Its Independence Day, 60 years, calls in for a celebration. I felt, looking at the media, our commercial ventures made Independence Day lose its tactile sensitivity. It is great to see many different ads coming out; I feel that India has its tenet when celebrating any occasion.

Today morning, a friend of mine was writing an article on India, and she seemed to be very passionate about it. She wanted to underscore the beauty of India, and I am sure it will be good reading. I felt, “Chalo, even I shall share few of my adventures associated with Indian Independence with the same verve as she is.”

Last year, sometime in July, I selected few places of my own volition. The first stop was Ahemadabad. There was a reason to meet one of my good friends, Rachita, working out there. Well, the early signs of her stay at Gujarat weren’t encouraging. Her mother accompanied her, but they both didn’t seem to enjoy the visage of that particular environment. In a way, it is tough on us to be leaving our comfort zone (home) to some other place. I guess, at times, one shall wallow with circumstances when there aren’t many choices given.

I reached the place, and the first thing I did was to book a hotel room for myself. The weather was not dry and was cloudy. It was that time of the season where monsoon was expected any moment. I never set my heart on myself while traveling; I keep reminding myself that I have got too much wanderlust at times, and hence I allow my mind to control most of the situations. I did meet Rachita and her mom. In a way, they were happy to see me being there when there aren’t familiar faces around. They were staying at the company’s guest house until she found herself a place to stay.

The first day was spent in me spending most of my time with them. Rachita wasn’t feeling well for some days. Her mom and I went out in search of a house. We did meet quite a few agents and lots of places. We weren’t entirely happy with what we saw. In a way, getting a house that aunt and Rachita wanted seemed very tenuous, but never did they or even I lose any hope.

On my way back, next to my hotel, there was a theater. I am fond of movies, and I just went in to watch “Omkara.” I paid 20 bucks for this and got a good deal with the seating as well. I did realize the entertainment taxes out here in Bangalore were too much. I guess that goes the same way with any interstate movies.

Day 2: I wanted to visit places. I was sure this place was close. I took the rickshaw, and out I went.

Sabarmati Ashram it was.

I was always fascinated with the way Gandhi worked out his methods. Be it via Ben Kingsley in the movie ‘Gandhi’ or his experiments with truth; he somehow epitomized a man who is not just known for his tonsure.

Previously, I knew Gandhi only through movies and literature. As I walked into this tract of infinite wisdom, I was astonished to see and hear many facts about his life.

The ambience was refreshing, and the first thing I did was enter the museum, which had many of his writings and photographs.

One by one, as it flickered, I was an eagerness to know the reason for him being transcendent and set an example of being truculent by imbibing the concept of ahimsa.

Many of the portraits explained the transports of people and Gandhi in particular for a common purpose. Being Independent; free of being held in thrall by the British.

By looking at the photographs and the events depicted, I was vicarious with the events.
The vision of Gandhi was clear, to turn the barren administration into a verdant.
His veneer appearance spoke more than his abstinence practices. He had principles, and he followed them vehemently.

Few would argue or doubt his principles, but, he had a vision and a dream, he sensed to negate the ever-growing vex among his fellow countrymen, ahimsa was the way to go. He never veered with his principles even at the time of adversity. It spoke volumes of a man who stood by what he thought was veracious.

It was time to give back the voyeur British Government to stop impaling Indians (as we proudly say it) with their illogical, adamant, and, more importantly, egoistic practices at times.

Like, we say, the British did a lot of things that were responsible for the uproar. Spreading English education by Sir William Bentick and encouraging Indians to take part in civil services were precedent for self-awakening for souls.

At times, the vitriolic and virulent attitude of certain officers made us realize that it was high time we needed our land to be ruled by our leaders, not aliens.

I don’t want to go back into history but would like to share the vignette I have or instead I saw out there at the ashram.

It was his sheer dedication and determination that saw the British wane out eventually.

Well, Gandhi didn’t become a leader; he was made to lead. He led because people had faith in him; he had confidence in himself and his abilities to take on the rampant opposition.

However, some people were in opposition to what he believed in. Instead of blaming each other, we must acknowledge the best of all the worlds because everyone had a common goal.

A nation boasting people who are religious, moral, unsavory, fearless, shy, etc

There are possibilities of conflicts of principles and interests. But in this case, it was only principles because the appeal was the same. All had a common interest.

Finally, the Gandhian principles prevailed, and he turned out to be the primary catalyst for our freedom. So he was our Father of the Nation. If Bose had survived and got us freedom through his principles, he would have been bestowed with the above title.

Ultimately, it is all about being survival of the fittest; Gandhi just proved, he need not be physically fit; his taut principles and the tensile strength were indeed very fit.

Even now, his idealisms doesn’t seem to be uncouth; it’s just that we need the courage to follow them. One has to be tendentious and then follow it up. Gandhi’s idealism was accepted because we were short of ideas, and we just took it because it worked for us. So, in theory, the situation is very different now. We need to use these idealisms to fight within rather than people.

Also, people wanted and waited to hear at that time, and it isn’t the same; although people want to hear, do they have time to wait?

And by the time I reached the end of the portrait section, I realized that being independent doesn’t mean staying away or not being dependent on others, Independent means, unclogging ourselves with the ailments we carry throughout the day.

In the real sense, freedom means free ourselves from the prison of our thoughts, which inhibits our movements. This could bring a degree of tempestuous situations at times within us, but it is better to tarry decisions than to end up being tawdry.

Sometimes, we need to carry the necessary unguent to the sore mental muscles. That comes with wisdom. Gandhi expressed the need to read literature and be aware of the world that takes us a step closer to being independent.

If independence means not being dependent, wisdom helps us be aware of situations and, hence, less dependent on others. Serve the food you like; the buffet is ready.

It is better to enjoy the best of all worlds at our disposal than criticize being drawn to the comparison. However, if the comparison is what brings in the money for others, let it be at professional life instead of taking it to our personal lives.

Towards the end of the portrait section, a portrait of his funeral is displayed. Nearly three lakh people gathered on that day.

He wore the robe of verisimilitude. His deeds are indeed highly venerable from all places across the world.

After a while, I visited his home, Hriday Kunj. A familiar sight of a Gandhian sat there. I asked him about the history of this place, he explained in a detailed manner. He did mix his Hindi with Gujarati; I was unimpeachable and didn’t show any signs of not understanding when he spoke in Gujarati. But I could sense what it meant.

I entered the place; it was refreshing. One could forget all the venial thoughts. Except for his room, all other rooms were accessible. Although, one could get a glance at how his room looked like.

And after this, I could see the sad sight of River Sabarmati. It was polluted and dry. Thankfully, Government is restoring the river through one of its projects.

The forecast was rain showers that day, but even the weather gods couldn’t vitiate my visit to this ashram. I could summarize his principles in this way. V for Verity and not Vendetta.

In a way, whenever I behave devilishly, I never realized what went before me. Did people of my age at that time enjoy similar privileges?

The point is it’s not comparing our lives with that of our ancestors. It is all about learning and being progressive. Like we progressed from monkeys to humans, our thoughts must advance. It is all about creating better positions for the coming generations rather than concentrating on minor issues.

I know our tyranny might not help us in progress. But doesn’t the situation arise once again what our ancestors faced?

It is true; history repeats. And it is also true, one must learn from our history.

Sometimes we do dream of having many things. It is all about transmuting our dreams into actualities. The challenges faced in realizing our dreams are what we call the driving forces of life. One could be a hero like Gandhi, Bose, etc., bowled by their talisman qualities.

The way our mind progresses, the problems would have reached another level as well. As proportionately, we are all in the same league as our ancestors were.

In a way, it is equivalent to the lives we live with the ways our forefathers lived. I know it has changed a lot. But, change is the only constant thing in this world.

It is not just to remember them on particular days being allotted as National Holidays.

The way they thought about us being in the right positions would be better if we do the same by thinking of our country’s future. Oh yes, there would be a Gandhi, Bose coming out again. It is likely to be a combination of many qualities than those reminiscent of Gandhi alone or, in particular, any other person alone.

I managed to catch the rickshaw and headed towards the hotel. I realized every idea works as long as it works and continues to work if it had worked.

WHAT WAS ‘I’ RANTING?

RajanThambehalli1 Comment

Incensed by the world around me, I keep wondering how things can be so different; I see people living their lives in the most logical way possible and few others who expect things to happen, busy with their incantation. It’s ingrained in my mind; I meet people who are either ingenuous or ingrate people. I like being an inquisitor and more sort of an interloper who invades into many facets of life.

I heard that thinking about oneself is not being selfish. For most parts of my life, I saw this aspect being mastered only by certain people whose ideals were insuperable and insurmountable.

Their interminable willpower and the ability to deal with inimical, iniquitous people and environment is something I kept wondering whether it is innate or has been cultivated by wisdom. This is a group of intelligentsia, where academic qualification doesn’t have much say.

They lead an idyllic life, minus all the impetuous situations. They do not implore for a living and, for that matter, to be happy; they instead seek out or rather construct a pathway to their intellectual success. They may be impecunious, but they do not rely much on money; although they realize that money is essential, it isn’t that important. They are impregnable to the greed of wealth in the form of money; they prefer the indissoluble’s wealth, unlike cash, which goes through a series of incursions at times.

I was getting curious to meet any one of them who possess such remarkable skills that are incontrovertible. I was an itinerant in search of this spiritual Guru from whom I could imbibe specific skills.

I had to give up many things searching for this Guru, I was not sure, but I wanted to learn. So after reluctance, I was inveigled into this spiritual journey. I was inured to my house, family, and other things that were ineluctable since childhood. I did leave, and few miles I started walking. After few days, I was out of my indigenous place.

Few friends did drop by to change my decision, which, according to them, didn’t make any sense at this point in my life. By this time, I was imbued with similar talks, and I was beginning to immure my purpose by their advice.

To be frank, I was happy to find some friends who wanted me to come back; mainly, they didn’t want me to go out of my comfort zone. Well, one friend just came near me and told “Forget the imbroglio out here, instead of this imposture, you go and discover yourself; I hope this journey shall incapacitate all the unnecessary bugs on your mind.

You have taken a bold step, make sure you are not imprudent on this journey, and at the same time, you incite with all the beautiful things around you. Things can be inclement at times, but that will only help you strengthen your will. Initially, the results of your efforts will be imperceptible, but prolonging your choice shall make your mind inundated with thoughts that will come in handy throughout your journey”.

Won’t I be termed as a hermit if I am not with my friends? And, is it possible to retain my individuality with the inveterate group of people I end up meeting each day?

Life at times can be intractable to those who are invidious with the things and people around them. Hence they lose a chance to appreciate the other side of the coin of life. Accompanying such kind of people at times can be irksome. Some of the quibbles they have are inane to the nth order. True, it is incommodious to include them in our lives, but in no way do we have the right to be invective and indict them with hatred ness.

Their qualities are not irremediable, and neither are we here to find a remedy for others. We are here to find a cure for our inborn illness, and no physicians or chemists have a solution for this. It is us and you for your life.

People not understanding this might lead to an insubstantial life, but I look at it this way; from others’ failures, one must learn. Hence, if the other person enjoys committing mistakes, one must learn not to make them instead of subjecting ourselves to insubordination.

First and foremost, we must learn to agree to disagree on many aspects of life and mainly people’s behavior. People’s actions are irrevocable, just like ours. By knowing ourselves, one can avoid being irreverent to the life we are given to lead.

Through self-awareness, one can imagine iridescent qualities that will ingratiate with the people struggling to know themselves. The majority of the opinions are based on the actions taken by us in a similar situation.

We appreciate it if it goes on par with our thinking; we tend to inveigh the actions if we do not think similarly, or it becomes an innovation if we do not have any idea about the stories.

So basically, most of us do not have any clue as to what is happening in our life. One must be insightful and inter the trivial things that happen around us. One must never interdict the process of “practical intellectual learning.”

PIL, as I would describe. One that happens each moment, it must be realized. PIL has an inordinate fondness of helping us, training us to make our lives better, but very few people learn this, and others behave as though they are inanimate for PIL.

Everyone has their defined problems; it’s mundane. One’s choices determine the outcome. A few of them are time precision, and others are inopportune.

To practice PIL, one need not be an ascetic. One can choose to be intermittent. To be present and mingle with the people and at the same time be separated from the world through sheer will power.

One need not meditate on the snowy mountains to attain intellectual knowledge; one can learn only by being present in this world surrounded by people. This learning to start with is not inscrutable, and with keen dedication, we can get rid of specific infirmity, which inhibits our intellectual growth.

By being more self-aware, one can see the distinctions with people around us and accept the indignation at times. Self-awareness brings indissoluble changes and mostly for the better. One can be inebriated with many thoughts that are not useful, and hence we end up being branded as inept.

Interesting things do happen; one likes to be infantile in decision making others can infract. Exceptionally few conclusions can be indubitable, and sadly even they aren’t spared these days due to differences in opinion that voices out from each corner in this world. So with many people around, authentic learning happens when one allows others to impale our body with their thoughts, which fights with our ideals to indenture to alien ideas.

The fight between standards of self with people is the impetus of life.

It is a war, compromise, friendship and one encounters many personalities during this war. Impertinent, impetuous, imperious, impolitic, incendiary, incontinent, insidious, insolvent, insouciant, insurgent are some of the qualities that impute an infernal life.

However, on the flip side, some people incrust rate themselves with fortitude. More often than not, the battle would be with the former, and hence the outcome can be indomitable and inexorable. So with many people around, we can very well accept that everyone cannot be perfect and carry out things in a manner of inerrancy.

All human beings are capable of error, so why being fussy in living in this world. We need to train ourselves to lift the incubus hovering around us and incur things that aids to intellectual growth.

In a way, we indite our literature of life, and all we must ensure, the pages of our literature to be indelible by people who lead an incorporeal life. By knowing ourselves, we can detach the incognito bug by our identity to indemnify some aspects moving forward. When people can live the life impugning, making incisive remarks about others, why can’t you live quite the opposite way?

The challenge is to avoid immolating our lives to the circumstances instead of fighting the imbecility within us and not waiting until the realization time is imminent.

Instead of leading a life filled with a feeling of ignominy, we have a chance to live quite the opposite manner, which is free from impunity as a result of our actions. We must not allow circumstances to incarcerate us and reduce us to a state of impuissance.

What must I cultivate to strengthen my PIL?

Be an incumbent in your mental office. Keep accurate records of all the things that you do. Never give a chance to incriminate your downfall on others, even if you do, do not prolong it or rather do not repeat it. We do make mistakes and go off track in our impromptu living style.

Allow your mind to accept the impropriety in many facets of life since not all things are made to perfection. Human life is inalienable to many things; one must not try to change it for self-satisfaction. Some remarks are imponderable; hence do not bother to weigh the full import of the content. It doesn’t have it in any case.

View your life like a movie and the circumstances as adventures. Keep your options open so that you don’t reach a stage of impasse, wherein there is no escape. Cultivate the will power so that it is impalpable to the various temptations thrown around. Be importunate to certain things all by yourself to realize the capacity and, to an extent, to gauge one’s tolerance limits.

Appreciate things you have and never importune for stuff in a greedy way; few things go our way, and all other items in our favor are highly implausible.

Instead of imprecating others for being a catalyst in your downfall and treating them with indignity, try not to be severe. Some things are meant to happen in a certain way. The beauty of life and the mystery associated with it is in interpreting events that occur in a certain way.

Instead of blaming situations and passing impious remarks about others, one must cultivate the habit of decoding the event language and becoming better interpreters of life. So you must be able to defend yourself against direct accusations in the same spirit as the innuendos on one’s character.

Certain things are ruled by one’s thoughts and others from different people’s opinions. We must reduce the interregnum between these two reigns that control our mind and its subsequent actions. And one must not show insolence towards the turn of events; one must learn from it rather than get ruined.

Mind and body must be nourished with positive elements so that they are stress-free and reduce the internecine nature of body and mind when combined during stress.

There are rewards and punishment for every deed in this life itself, so you must be responsible for your actions. When great people die early, it is not injustice; it is just that we don’t deserve them or go away to learn something from it.

When a particular section of greats faces adversity, it is a lesson to learn how they overcome it, rather than cursing it or feeling sorry about it. Things happening beyond your control are irreproachable and irreparable at times.

Certain people’s deeds are irrepressible along with their curiosity, so we encounter irreconcilable situations. Still, such things or course of events must be irrefutable rather than us reacting in an irate manner.

An iota of common sense and intellectual knowledge will take us nowhere near our destiny. We must be leaders of our future, and leaders should never appear irresolute when decisions are made. And Remember …………………”

It’s 11 am; oh man, why did I sleep so much???

I took my bath, and while driving, I just got reminded of the very different events. Very few times, my heart and mind weren’t in a state of insurrection. They concurred to many previously intangible things.

Maybe they did, I was surprised. In the interim, let me finish my work today and think about interpreting my dream later in the day when I get back. At least, I am not impenitent for them to join hands; it will be for something better. It wouldn’t be improvident.

Just when I was thinking more about this, I reached my customer’s place. I didn’t know why I am writing this; all I can say is a hidden purpose, and eventually, I did get to know. I could see the word-ly power of me in I.

The Departed Angel

RajanThambehalliLeave a comment

Well, I somehow got reminded of an instance that happened a few years back. Well, I was artful with things I liked, which was a special feeling, which wasn’t Déjà vu.

I used to commute in public transport, distance and many friends were there, so journey was never short of an adventure each day that passed by during the two years of pre-university.

Since many people had to take the same bus at the 11th hour, we had a line of people waiting to get in so that there was no stampede. I got fascinated by a girl, a fair one, and that’s it. Her face expressed many moods of hers while she continued talking to her fellow mates.

OMG, but, didn’t give much thought to that. The situation made me see the girl more often since I was few places behind, and her face was quite visible while we were getting onto the bus. This happened for one week, and each day, she just made me go crazy with her looks. Two weeks, without notice, my heart was penchant towards the familiar face of the fortnight.

It wasn’t a situation wherein she appeared everywhere, but her actual presence on the bus stop and the bus triggered a bug inside me, known as “The Crush.” Previously, I would have liked a girl or a woman, but I never before thought so much about it.

Feelings did creep in, but it would cease as soon as she wasn’t visible. Well, talk about fantasy and an angel coming into your life; this was nothing short of it. The best thing about her was the face and the hair. Her smile and only once did I see her crying, or at least with moist eyes.

The spy inside me wanted to know more about her. At the same time, I didn’t want to be pedantic in terms of tricks or getting to know her.

I am never comfortable with such things. Sometimes or instead, most of the time, I do let the situation do the talking, if not my mouth.

I believe having good intentions about the other person, goodwill, happen since I didn’t have any malicious purposes. She ignited a soft affectionate corner in me that wasn’t discovered until date.

Previously, I would hate to have persistently thought about a girl. I was recalcitrant in this regard. Preferred, being a hermit in such issues and rather being weltered by such recurring thoughts.

In a way, I wanted to get rid of the insularity concerning such feelings.
Initially, my mind was intransigent with my heart. My heart wanted to have a very comfortable zone, which was to think about her and feel good about it. My mind was focused more on other things like studies, playing cricket, and just the routine I had at that time.

Ok, my heart won the battle, not as I would regret. But the feeling inside me at that time was right.

Each day, there were few people in between her and me in the bus queue. That’s ok; I didn’t feel like hurrying up things. I just loved the fact of seeing her face, and that’s about it. Everything else about her didn’t matter. I didn’t force myself to look into her, but situations made me, or instead, she used to be visible from where I was.

On the day of my practical exams, I joined the queue. OMG, she was standing in front of me—a black sweatshirt and blue denim trouser that complimented the upper attire. Never before in weeks had I seen her that close.

From the conversation she was having, I got to know she was in the final year of her bachelor’s degree at Jain College. (B.Com). “Elder to me, by three years??”

“How does it matter? It’s not like you want to be friends with her, you are attracted to her, and that’s it; why am I thinking so much?

We both got on the bus, and believe it or not; she was right in front of me. I had a pencil, and I was marking few pages on my book. Out came a sheet of paper, and for the first time, I started scribbling something on the bus. I still have it with me.

This is what I wrote:

Slow and steady along the road,

A bus moved carrying some load.

An angel was sitting in the front seat,

My heart woke up to rejoice in the visual treat.

As the bus moved from one place to another place;

My heart gathered to race with some pace,

Her lovely smile made me mad,

Seeing her cry, I was sad.

Her rosy lips and silky hair,

Better was the face, clear and fair.

Her hypnotic eyes and catchy dimple;

Made other girls around her look very simple.

I will remember her from time to time,

Through my heart, she would be mine.

Her stop was about to come; she prepared to get down,

My mind told the heart not to bog down.

At last, the stop came finally,

Which my heart thought would never come initially,

All these days, I couldn’t muster the courage to talk,

All I did was to see her walk.

Little did I realize I had just managed to write a poem that rhymed (a lousy one). I was fascinated by rhythmic lyrics, and in a way, my heart managed to disabuse my mind, which had a different mindset altogether before seeing this Angel.

It’s good to always listen to one’s heart. It speaks the truth, and all it does is; it pinches whenever we want to get out of our comfort zone. The heart cannot listen to any dirge playing.

Simultaneously, one must not allow our minds to get into a torpor state by listening to our hearts. One must concur and nurture our soul so that, in adversity, the heart must help us remember the good things we did instead of making us feel sinful and miserable about the situation. It must make us feel comfortable in times of agony and pain.

Listen to the inner voice; it comes in handy while shaping our destiny.

And in a way, she did trigger me, and now when I look back, those few weeks were very important and crucial in my life. Talking about one’s feelings, well, she did make me talk about it.

After that day, I saw her once more. An Angel came and departed.

MY FIRST HALF-MARATHON

RajanThambehalli3 Comments

During sometime in October last year, all my cousins decided we would start running for the sake of fitness. Since Mahesh, my elder cousin, is interested in such things, he came up with the idea of running at Hyderabad Marathon.

With Nannu (another cousin) around, he can make things happen. He convinced all the boys, and there we are, Mission Hyderabad.

During the build-up, I was told we all were running 21 km, i.e., half marathon. I was telling them, “It’s not an easy task; you guys must be joking.”

But somehow, all these guys seemed to be thinking, running a half marathon was easy. As usual, we did have our opinions pouring in, and at last, the decision was made. “We are running half-marathon.”

Were we?

It was decided that we would have a sightseeing day before the marathon. Since this was my first visit to Hyderabad, I was looking forward to the trip.

Some butterflies also started creeping in when I thought about completing the half marathon, along with the excitement. I have never run that long continuously, and even the distance looked intimidating, but not impossible.

Since I used to run, I did have a measure of how long the distance would be.
Hence the mental passport was ready, and all I needed was the visa of my body.
My physical condition wasn’t up to the standards which were required to run a marathon. Max, one month before the event, I would have run 10 to 15 km at one go.

The question was “maintaining the intensity.” Before the marathon, I was also surprised to see my cousins taking things lightly when it came to the running issue. I kept stressing the necessity of being in shape and, more importantly, mentally tough.

To be on the safer side, I wanted to test my fitness condition. I started focusing on cardio at the gym. I just kept cycling for 10 km and thread mill for another 5 km. This routine I followed ruthlessly for two weeks. Three days before the marathon, I decided to ease out and just did the usual way. So I wasn’t ready physically; also, considering the effects of a double ankle sprain on my right leg, which happened in 2002, things weren’t going to be easy. But it was a challenge, which I took it up to see, whether I can or whether I will?

Our running T-shirts arrived, surprisingly, T-shirt mentioned a 10 km run. I asked Nannu, and he told me the stock for half marathon was not available.

Ok, the day came finally. 24th of November, 2006. I, Ravi (Dali), Nannu, Mahesh, Sharath, Manju, Sandhya, Radhika (Trinca), and of course, my cutie pie Namratha.

This was the gang of Bangalore, all set to conquer the blues of Hyderabad.

We had booked AC train to and fro. We reached on the morning of 25th and, after some time, did find someplace to rest. The plan was to have Biryani after the marathon since we would enjoy it much better, and it was advisable to keep ourselves a low key when it came to eating that day.

We had booked Toyota Qualis for commuting. The entire day was spent discussing the strategies for cracking the marathon. Manju, Sharath, Dali, and Nannu had different ideas to give, although it was a little funny compared to my profound thoughts.

First stop: Charminar. Even though it is not well-maintained, it is a beautiful piece of architecture.

Later we went to Golconda fort. It was terrific, and the evening was a perfect time to be at that place. That day, I was wearing my Superman T-shirt and did feel though I had lots of energy. At the same time, I wanted this energy to last for the marathon in a few hours.

The laser show with Amitabh being the Sutradhar was just the perfect way to know about the history of Golconda and other princely titbits, which have made this place a treat to visit.

By this time, adrenaline was pumping, and we were ready.

Dinner was more of fruits and salads, although others did try their hand at Biryani and other heavy stuff, I was happy with my light meal, keeping the race in mind.

The interiors at the restaurant were simply breathtaking, and for some time, I wondered “whether it is a restaurant or some temple?”

Off we went to bed. We were supposed to reach the venue at seven in the morning for the half-marathon to start. I woke up at 5 am, got ready. So everyone was set for one titanic battle of our bodies and minds. Akshay Kumar and the oomph Sameera Reddy were the people who would be flagging the 10 km race.

We reached the venue. Within minutes, I saw people running past us. I was ready to go just when all my cousins pulled me back. They started laughing. I didn’t understand, and a few seconds later, I got to know we had come to participate in the 10 km. Dali said, “Now he is gonna say, I knew from the start that this was a 10 km run”. Even Manju said the same. Mahesh apologized, saying we are running 10 km, not a half- marathon.

I was shocked, and all I did next moment, to run with those running the half-marathon.

I didn’t carry my phone, neither did I have any money. All I had at that moment was vengeance. I just wanted to show all my cousins that “I can run 21 km.”

As I was alone on this mission, a lot of things were running inside me. After running for a km, I realized, “Rajan, I have come here to run 21km and prove myself that I can run. I have nothing to prove to others; it’s a test of my will power and stamina. I have come here to run 21 km, and I am going to do it for myself and my special friend”.

Indeed, a week before this event, my friend refused to pick up my call. A message appeared as a reply. “Nothing’s wrong with my phone. I don’t feel like talking to anyone. Please don’t call or even reply to this message till I call you”. Ok, this wasn’t the first time, but I didn’t get a chance to know as to why. Anyway, I had to accept the situation and move on with it. Sometimes, it hurts mentally, but one can’t help it. Time is the only comforter, and patience is the key till the other person recovers from this sudden disappearance.

I knew for a fact, my friend was going through a bad phase, and the sad part was; now I was forced to be unavailable for my friend. Whose fault is it anyway?

Hence this thing did occupy my mind while running, and somewhere my triumph would help my friend get enough confidence to deal with the problems.

Coming back, after a km, I said, “I am running this for myself, my mom, and to my special friend.” Suddenly, I was able to see a different picture all around me. There was clarity in whatever I was thinking, and the focus was entirely on the roads of Hyderabad.

Charminar was 5 km away from the starting line, and it looked different from last afternoon when the streets were busy, and it didn’t look like the place where Trinca and I bought bangles for other cousins. (Females, of course)

Next to Charminar was the mosque, which we couldn’t visit the day before due to time constraints. Recently, this mosque was in the news for the wrong reasons. It was the victim of a bomb, which blasted while people were offering prayers.

Coming back, Physically, I was still in good shape, and it was good to see people cheering and encouraging the running. Glucose, mosambi, water, they were plenty of them taking care and making sure we didn’t get dehydrated.

Hospitality was great, and the organizers made sure we didn’t have to bother except for running. Half-marathon was also the right choice, especially when one has to introspect himself with the rest of the world. I did get to think over many things, especially where I was heading in my life.

I like analogies, and to me, it makes sense. My running was a bit similar to the way I was living. It is a big challenge to keep pushing all the time. People are there, and nature is there to help us, but the common trait is attitude. If one has to run the marathon of life, short term and long term goals must be thought of and taken care of. For me, the satisfaction of finishing the 21 km run was vital. At the same time, I didn’t put extra strain on my ankles, and all I did was enjoy each mile.

After 14 km, I did join the rest of the gang who were participating in the 10 km run. It was crowded, and in a way, I started to lose my momentum. Again, I thought, “When things are fine, everything seems to be fine, when there is too much noise and confusion around, one must fight to retain composure, and this fight is solely internal.”

I was losing momentum very quickly because there were thousands of them. Some people were playing around, some were walking, some were making fun, it just reached a point, and I thought I should give up because the race was physically too demanding considering many people around me.

Also, I started to tire down because of less food intake. “It reached a stage, last 6 km, legs exhausted and momentum is not the same as I had for the last 15 km. Even Sun started blazing around.”

Biryani was tempting, and I wanted to enjoy my meal after the run.

I didn’t want to stop at that moment and be a loser. I knew I was trying my best, but I would not settle anything less than 21 km. That was it. I spoke to my stomach. “Look, there’s a good chance that you are going to get brilliant Hyderabadi Biryani, don’t mess it up, just co-operate with me, and I promise I am gonna fill you up big time.” Trust me, these were the exact words I thought, and a deal was struck.

Then it was mind over matter. No amount of physical strength could have carried me further. Not that I was fainting, it’s just that I had lost my physical momentum, but I didn’t feel any uneasiness of higher amplitude.

“No pain, No gain” is something which I always recite, and it did come to fair use. The last few km was a test of my character, commitment, and will power. I met Nannu and Manju in that marathon rush, and they were quite relieved to see me and in good condition.

We parted ways since I had to take a different route to complete.

Trust me, for the last 3 km; I started regaining my lost physical strength. My will power out powered the unwillingness of my body to finish.

At last, I did finish. The relief and, more importantly, the satisfaction was something I can’t quite describe in words. It’s a feeling. I don’t know how Hillary and Norgay felt when they reached the top of Mt. Everest. All I can say is, my feelings were similar to theirs, and it’s just that it was on a much bigger scale for them than for what I achieved.

I would rate myself a winner because I set myself to achieve something when I left Bangalore, and I did it. After crossing the line, my pulse was measured, and they noted my name. They gave me a certificate for completing the 21 km run.

I know I didn’t win the race, but I won the support of my mind and body, and this event also made my mind and body understand each other better and appreciate each other’s contribution.

I met my cousins. All were happy for me. Mahesh told me, “It’s good that you did what you wanted.” Manju and Dali said, “It inspired them.” Nannu was proud that I didn’t get stuck with them and crib; instead, I went and finished 21 km.

I like running because it’s a challenge. If you run hard, there’s the pain – and you’ve got to work your way through the pain. You know, lately, it seems all you hear is? Don’t overdo it’ and? Don’t push yourself.’ Well, I think that’s a lot of advice. If you move the human body, it will respond.”

And by the little experience of running, I can relate a lot of similar things concerning life. This is something I would like to share.

A quote below by- George S. Patton, U.S. Army General

“Now, if you are going to win any battle, you have to do one thing. You have to make the mind run the body. Never let the body tell the mind what to do. The body will always give up. It is always tired morning, noon, and night. But the body is never tired if the mind is not tired. When you were younger, the mind could make you dance all night, and the body was never tired…You’ve always got to make the mind take over and keep going.”

That day, I did feel I had come out of boyhood and, in a way, ready to take up the challenges in life. At least I could sense, I can take it up when given any situation.

One of my favorite athletes, Emile Zapotek, once quoted –
“It’s at the borders of pain and suffering that the men are separated from the boys.”

After the event, I did feed my stomach with loads of Biryani as promised.

I didn’t feel tired. My feet were aching a bit while walking, but it was manageable. The person to meet – Chiropodist would have been the ideal person at that moment.

We visited Secundrabad; Sandhya was born here. She wanted to see her old house, she did manage to find it and did take a snap.

Later to the Snow world, Karachi Bakery (famous cashew biscuits are exported from this place).

Overall the trip was rejuvenating with cousins around. To top it, finishing the half marathon would be the highlight of my journey.

As far as my special friend was concerned- I did get a good luck call two days before the event. Trust me, that call did help somewhere during the half-marathon.

And I did it for myself, my mom, and my special friend.

“In the end, we will remember not the words of our enemies but the silence of our friends.”

This is undoubtedly dedicated to the silence of my Special Friend.

Life is all about Timing- ‘Waugh kya baat hai’

RajanThambehalli5 Comments

People realize pretty early; some don’t. That’s the beauty; it’s all timing.
I heard somewhere, “Well arranged time is the surest mark of a well-arranged mind.”

When we say, “I don’t have time for this, that, etc.,” what does it imply?
Are we not arranging things properly, or, we know the right things to be done.
By the time we figure out what we want, it’s too late.

“If youth only knows and age only could.”

This is just an aspect of our life, an important one. As a kid, I did things that used to cause harm to my friends. Very temperamental, I just did what I wanted without even thinking about the consequences of my actions. Dennis the Menace was appropriately my other name concerning pranks I used to play on others.

 

I couldn’t control my temper while I was playing because I always played to win, and it reached a stage wherein I started believing; only I could make my team win. I played brilliantly, and I guess my mind went crazy, seeing how I used to play. The mind of a youngster!!!

 

This was how I, till the age of 14.

 

In the past, I always felt I was more significant than the team, and to my credit, I used to play pretty well. One day I did see my friends feeling the heat when I yelled at a guy who got me run out. I was furious, and I thought the match would be lost because of me getting out.

 

We did lose, and I couldn’t accept defeat that easy on that day. I did play with many new guys (younger than me), gave them a chance (in a sense, to bat first and to bowl especially), but I never liked them getting better than me. I mostly competed with guys elder to me, and I always wanted to be better than them. Never felt intimidated in the presence of many people who were elder to me.

If indeed a player was better than me, I never used to like that guy in the same team. I used to work on my bowling to get him out or field like Jonty Rhodes to take a catch or create run-out opportunities. I made sure; he didn’t get better than me.

I did all this sportingly never used unfair means of getting them out.

This was how I improved my game, but my attitude toward carrying the entire burden didn’t go. This was also the result of my friends putting my name in a big way whenever I used to play. The thrill they used to get when they got my wicket, all this made me feel self-centered.

I always wanted to be known as the best player among all the guys who played, and I did make a special effort to raise the benchmark every time in whichever way possible.

Sometime late 1999, early 2000, I didn’t enjoy this tag, and I could not play that well. I mean, I had very high standards. Even though I scored more than anyone, I wasn’t doing the way I did all six years previously.

My bowling was getting better, and my fielding was never a problem. Batting wise, I stopped being ruthless (still used to score fast, but less compared to previous years).

I felt there were no challenges left. I didn’t have to prove to anyone as to how well I batted. People knew. Still, there were conflicting feelings inside me. I was15, and it was too early to stop playing cricket.

But I had to get over it fast. Some new guys were coming, and they were good. Soon we had a bunch of pretty talented guys. Maybe I was not too fond of this fact and trying to prove them; I was losing my touch.

 

When I saw others, I felt, “How can I fit in the team now? Clearly, no one is gonna drop me. But I didn’t like the present role; I need a change”.

Well, people I thought are average cricketers, and those who played under the shadows of me and other guys needed a boost somewhere. Timing is the key for every cricketer.

In a way, my yesteryear attitude would have ruined their self-confidence if I continued playing in the same way.

I decided and threw a challenge on myself. To start with, I opted to bat second last instead of my favorite and usual opening spot. I wanted to see how good others are, and my sole purpose was to make sure we won in the end. Now I started enjoying the victories even though I didn’t bat.

I was enjoying my bowling, and I was dying to bowl every time we played. It didn’t affect my batting, but it took the responsibility off my shoulders to hit the winning runs all the time.

Slowly I could see youngsters enjoying the game since they were getting involved lots. Later, I stopped bowling and gave youngsters a chance to bowl. I didn’t bowl but used to bat. Even if they conceded runs, I wanted to make sure we won and made sure they faced the opposition’s challenge.

Slowly, I batted down the order and bowled whenever I felt it was necessary to bowl. I enjoyed my fielding, and the fun I used to get taking catches and stopping the boundaries was just exciting. I was thriving on the factor of me being the leader.

The ‘I’ factor was slowly getting replaced by ‘We’, and I started enjoying a senior player’s role in one year. My temper level in yelling and giving back to bowlers abated, however the passion and aggression to win every match were very much there. I was more a patient man and, more importantly, understood the word ‘contentment.’ I also understood the fact, “We win as a team, lose as a team.” It is wrong to blame individuals for one’s failure.

My last three years, i.e., until 2003, were great in terms of personal growth and the way I grew intellectually with cricket as the backdrop.

It didn’t matter or affect me when we lost a game or two as long as we gave our best; I made sure I gave my best and could see everyone do their best.

In 2003, I felt it was high time I quit playing serious cricket. Somehow I didn’t want to involve playing regularly. It was a tough decision but a good one considering the trend and the changes that occurred.

Sadly, cricket was never the same, and I wouldn’t say because of me it stopped, but I am just proud that I pushed myself to greater heights, and along my way, I saw others trying hard as well. This was the sheer fun of Galli cricket, intersecting roads, huge plain lands; it was just fun.

Whenever I walk past these roads next to my place, I get reminded of all those moments that shaped my life to become a better human being than a cricketer I could have been at the highest level.

I never played serious cricket in terms of school or anything; I did play some serious atrocious games with guys who gave everything so that it was, at times, more than just fun.

It was a mission. All I can say, in retrospect, it was Mission Well Accomplished.
I want to thank all my friends who played a role in developing me into the right individual. Because of the challenges, I could raise myself every time, and 90% I did succeed.

Steve Waugh mainly inspired the change in attitude. He became the Captain of the Australian Team in 1998, which inspired me to become a leader and make others push hard and personally set challenges.

Like him, I was there only when situations demanded me to be there; otherwise, I was pretty happy seeing my other friends finishing the job.

This time, we started playing some ruthless cricket, and at the end of it, we had a great laugh at each other. It was a journey which I enjoyed without bothering about the destination.

My cricket life started trying to be a Sachin, which I did brilliantly by being the one-man army to end like a leader of Steve Waugh’s caliber.

In the end, more than cricket, I enjoyed the other aspects of seeing others happy, involving others, and, more importantly, compete as a team. Incidentally, Steve is my mom’s favourite cricketer, and she also used to accompany me to various cricket skill camps early in my life.

For me, the 6th of January, 2004, at 1.15 pm local Indian time, was a moment, which will remain with me forever.

Steve Waugh: caught Sachin Tendulkar bowled Kumble – 80

He got out off his trademark slog sweep, and fittingly Sachin took the catch. It was at his home ground SCG, Sydney. It was an emotional moment for me as well since I had stopped playing a few months back.

Last year, I did enjoy reading his book: “Out of my Comfort Zone,” which is what I always went through and which is also the inspiration for my Blog’s title.

I get reminded of the following line I thought of once as a kid.

“Many People think life is a game; I thought cricket was a game.”

Special Mention:

Sridhar (the first guy with whom I played on those roads in 1991), Anirudh (Bunty), Anupam (Dumpy), Praveen, Bharath, Ravi, Ajay, Vijay, Pavan, Anjaneya, Abhishek, Jaggu, Umapathy, Thejaswi Udupa, Abhilash, Monty, Niku, Basava ( the best I ever played with), Mallesh, Mote, Govinda (Kambli), Jagan, Raaghu, Pradeep, Sudhindra, Bipin( 4 years younger to me, highly talented), Kiran Sr, Kiran Jr, Nandu, Venugopal, Praveen, Renuka, Pavan, Santosh, Ramnath, Chetan, Nahush, Chaitanya, Kumaraswamy, Nikhil, Goutham, Preetham, Truthik, Anoop, Rakhshit, Rajat, Saravanan, Sharath, Allen, Elvin, Manjunath, Manu, Sanjay, Arun, Mayur, and others.

Most importantly, Anianna, who played a lot of cricket, and as a kid, I watched every game he and his friends played.

A special mention a man by the name of Mr. JayaPrakash. He was the first complete cricketer I ever saw. He gave me the first break into serious cricket as a substitute in a tournament. I still remember the way he used to hit sixes one-handed. Sadly he passed away in 1994 October.

A LIfe Less Ordinary!!! More Extraordinary

RajanThambehalliLeave a comment

Hi…..

Where do I start this?
Sometimes I feel why I should hit against a wall.

Am I sane to do it? It’s tough to get answers to such questions. Then
I do realize by introspection that it’s not a wall; she is a human being and whom I regard forever as a good friend to have met (even if it was only once).

Hence comparing you with the wall is the silliest analogy I can ever think of.

Then what is it?

All these days, I just hoped you end up having hassle-free life. And, hope is all I can give you at this moment.

I believe the most pristine relationship in this world is the relationship between a mother and her children. Innocence is at its peak when they start developing relationships very early in their lives. The sad part is, it keeps deteriorating slowly, and differences do creep in eventually. This is a fact.

After 23 years (Not yet, one more month to go), Even I feel the pinch when I try to manipulate things with my mother. It is tough, to be frank at all times. Why?

I am aware of things than previously, and as time goes, it becomes eventually tough to maintain or get back to that level of innocence I once had as a child.

The more I think about this aspect; I feel I am allowing the outer elements to control and hamper the innocence. This is no theory; it’s utterly pragmatic in every which way we would like to think.

Now this explains the theory “Change is the only constant thing.” So true, if changes can occur to a new relationship of that of a mother and her children, then why do we point fingers at other relationships and feel bad about it when it didn’t work.

By being frank in critical situations, one can still retain the innocence because changes can occur for the better.

All it takes is choice and effort to back the option.

With this enlightenment, I am trying to deal with trivial issues with a bigger picture in mind.

No wonder a good movie looks better on a big screen than on a small screen.

If we are making a movie of our lives, I agree with individuals to choose their cast. Stories, screenplays, editing, suspense, climax, thriller, comedy, etc., it’s all up to us to direct our thoughts to make a lifetime movie.

Generally, many movies include “cameos.” He gets appreciated only when he completes the job, which the main character is inhibited from doing.

It is our wish to extend the cameo’s role. But the extension of the cameo’s role must not affect the movie.

At the same time, one cannot ignore the importance of him. So we choose him either to please the public to help us make our movie a little better than what it is.

Or, we want him because we are convinced that he is there to play an important role.

This convincing act must be one’s own.

I remember the lines (or lies) you told me, “There is a reason why we both met.”

I don’t know whether you know the reason, but I certainly do. I need time from your kitty bag to tell what changes I have made in my life and the new career path I am looking at. I don’t know whether I would get some time from you, but you see, one needs to be optimistic, and I am confident one day I will get that “time” from you even if you try hard not to give. Hehehe.

Like they say, “Good things will always come to an end; if they aren’t good, then it’s not the end yet.”

I hope you got all the answers and you’ve come to understand that people and things are always going to change and you can’t stop them now.

I know for a fact, I cannot help or be there for all your problems. And trust me, no one will be there also for all of the issues. Time is the only comforter one can get.

Try, and you will get some time from others, but only if you try. Trust me, not everyone is selfish, and some people will be willing to help without any motive only if you give them a chance.

In the end, we are all separate; our stories, no matter how similar, come to a fork and diverge. We are drawn to each other because of our similarities, but it is our differences we must learn to respect.

This is the Quote of my life: “No one except me can spoil my life; it’s me and my choices which eventually would change my life.”

Let me try, An Enrique song for you……..

I have modified this for you.

Every day here you came for chatting (on g-talk)
and held your fingers; hence we don’t do much talking via chatting
When I asked, “How are you”?
You say you’re happy and you’re doin’ fine
Well, go ahead, baby, I got plenty of time
Sad eyes never lie
Sad eyes never lie

Well, for a while, I’ve been watching you unsteady
Ain’t going to move from the friendship ’til you’re good and ready
You show up, and then you shy away
But I know Preeti( pretty) soon you’ll be walkin’ this way
Sad eyes never lie
Sad eyes never lie

Baby, don’t you know I do care
Don’t you know that I’ve been there( not always, though)
Well, if something in the air feels a little unkind
Don’t worry, darling; it’ll slip your mind

I know you think you’d never be my friend
Well, that’s okay, baby, I don’t mind your trend
the shy photo smile of yours( on Orkut) is sweet; that’s a fact
Go ahead; I don’t mind the act ( of you not being in touch)

Here you come all planned up for a date to meet
Well, one more step, and it’ll be too late to treat
Adversity might make you feely lonely here and there
I am sure that you’re so sure I’ll be standing there
Sad eyes never lie
Sad eyes never lie
Sad eyes never lie
Sad eyes never lie