In my previous posts, my boasting about my brief stint at sports must have bugged some of you. But there was a time when I was pretty good at volleyball and badminton, but like they (the oldies) say, "Those were the good old days!" But having retired from all forms of sporting activity, and refraining from all activity that would keep my fitness in check ever since, I have become the average white-collared oldie.
Looking at my slim (or rather thin) figure in the mirror, I thought I still could run a mile without breaking a sweat. Those dreams were shattered today, when I had to run after the bus because it didn't stop at my bus-stop (ah these besharam Delhi drivers). I ran and I ran as fast as I could (realizing that this was the pace I used JOG before) I had half a mind to slow down, forget about the bus and catch my breath.
Thankfully I feared that bitter feeling you have when you give up and was also worried I might be extremely late for work. So I pushed on... and on... I finally jumped on to the bus and I had to pant and pant (like the kungfu panda after he climbs up the stairs) for an entire minute until I realized I was standing in spite of two seats being vacant! I later calculated I would have ran about 75 to a 100 meters. I used to cover this distance in less than 15 seconds err... 2 years ago, but now it would take thrice the time.
My kind mother would apprehend me saying I am not eating enough (she has a point there though). My ex-coach (who once had dreams of me playing volleyball for the country) would come to my room every morning, stand on my back and make me do 50 pushups and run 2 kilometers everyday if he sees me in this condition.
Ah, but what can I do? Time changes, and I am now lazier than I ever was before. Plus, having to cook my food and eat it, doesn't seem to help. The irritating Delhi heat isn't helping either. But this is no excuse. I vow to maintain a log of my exercise schedule starting tomorrow.
.... or next week
Monday, August 25, 2008
Friday, August 22, 2008
Blogger's gimmick - Interior Decorating
Now that I have got a sudden interest in blogging, (Free gifts for guessing why) I've decided I'll play the typical gimmick most bored bloggers play in order to get more comments or more "public response".
OK. Here's my problem. I am at present a bachelor living on the first floor in a one room - kitchen apartment. The bathroom isn't attached. The living room should be around 15ft x 15ft x 12ft.
Sorry the image doesn't come out as clearly as I want it to. Ok. The arcs are doors, the thick lines, the windows, the biggest room is my living space (obviously) the second biggest is the bathroom, with the green patch the bathing area and 5 the potty. In the big room, #4 is the mattress where I sleep in, the small eclipse is the chairs, the red circles represent my water kettle, rice cooker and iron (all on the floor). The green line acroos the room is my clothesline. (Disgusting, yeah) . #1 is the trunk where all my clothes are, #2 is a plastic shelf, #3 is a pile of books and newspapers and the unnumbered rectangles are boxes with winter-clothes and stuff. In the kitchen, (the smallest room), the yellow represent the shelves and the red is the sink. My budget is Rs 5000. Suggest anything (I prefer the minimalist look though) that might make my room better, and you'll get a cookie!!!
Thursday, August 21, 2008
The Glory of the Olympic Medal
India is all focussed to become an economic super-power where parents send their young ones to schools and colleges, hoping that they become great engineers and doctors one day. Mothers boast to each other how much marks their children scored in their exams. Our country, according to me, will soon end up with the smartest minds. Where your priorities are, there your success will be also.
It always looks great from the macro-perspective. Sadly, if you'd focus in a little closer, the view is very different. The sme mothers complain that their players aren't doing a good enough job at the Olympic games. The kind of explanations they come up with is wild! "We are just not as fit as the Chinese or the Blacks. They are made out of rubber and stone respectively!" "Our country is too corrupt to send in the best" (which I would agree to) "The government hardly does anything" "We are not good at sports"
Well, actually, duh, we are good at sports! I'm sure there are one or two Indians somewhere who can swim faster then Phelps! (Ok, a bold statement, but it's possible, you know considering all the strong fishermen on India's huge coastline. The governemnt also does as much as it can to make sports popular. The only reason why the best sportsmen give up the game is because there's no money in it. There's a limit to the love of the game. Me for instance, though only 22, have retired from competitive volleyball. I have become too old to feel the thrill of winning. (There was a time when I would train 6 hours a day!) It's only when you realize that even if you play for the country one day there's no chance of earning a decent livelyhood, do you give up the love for the game.
Also, many parents discourage sports. A friend of mine (sportsperson) joked saying that maybe in China one mother might ask the other how many sports her son played!!! Well, Chinese readers, please respond! Interestingly, as loudly as India might cheer for other sportspeople who risk their livelyhood on a pitch, ring or court, they would never dare to sacrifice their children on that same altar!
Our country, whether we like it or not, is a spectatorial country when it comes to sports. Though we might cheer for all those who make it to the newspapers, we will be ready to condemn anyone who tries to get there. Those who have won medals this year, enjoy the praises of those who did not approve their efforts when they were trying. It only makes the the olympic gold gleam brighter. I think, in spite of the fact that no matter what happens, the number of olympic medals we bag this year will be restricted to single digit numbers, the entire team that consistently shed sweat and blood for years and years to get here have not just trained their bodies to push new heights, but have also fought against an unsupportive society along the way.
Shouldn't we be ashamed of ourselves?
It always looks great from the macro-perspective. Sadly, if you'd focus in a little closer, the view is very different. The sme mothers complain that their players aren't doing a good enough job at the Olympic games. The kind of explanations they come up with is wild! "We are just not as fit as the Chinese or the Blacks. They are made out of rubber and stone respectively!" "Our country is too corrupt to send in the best" (which I would agree to) "The government hardly does anything" "We are not good at sports"
Well, actually, duh, we are good at sports! I'm sure there are one or two Indians somewhere who can swim faster then Phelps! (Ok, a bold statement, but it's possible, you know considering all the strong fishermen on India's huge coastline. The governemnt also does as much as it can to make sports popular. The only reason why the best sportsmen give up the game is because there's no money in it. There's a limit to the love of the game. Me for instance, though only 22, have retired from competitive volleyball. I have become too old to feel the thrill of winning. (There was a time when I would train 6 hours a day!) It's only when you realize that even if you play for the country one day there's no chance of earning a decent livelyhood, do you give up the love for the game.
Also, many parents discourage sports. A friend of mine (sportsperson) joked saying that maybe in China one mother might ask the other how many sports her son played!!! Well, Chinese readers, please respond! Interestingly, as loudly as India might cheer for other sportspeople who risk their livelyhood on a pitch, ring or court, they would never dare to sacrifice their children on that same altar!
Our country, whether we like it or not, is a spectatorial country when it comes to sports. Though we might cheer for all those who make it to the newspapers, we will be ready to condemn anyone who tries to get there. Those who have won medals this year, enjoy the praises of those who did not approve their efforts when they were trying. It only makes the the olympic gold gleam brighter. I think, in spite of the fact that no matter what happens, the number of olympic medals we bag this year will be restricted to single digit numbers, the entire team that consistently shed sweat and blood for years and years to get here have not just trained their bodies to push new heights, but have also fought against an unsupportive society along the way.
Shouldn't we be ashamed of ourselves?
Breeding Hatred
How do wars start? What makes one country annihilate another country only to torture their men and rape their women? Countries annihilating other countries because they hate each other so much. How on earth does one (individual) start to hate a culture he doesn't even know about? How is this hate generated? Where does it all start? Read this article and the comments that follow and you will find your answer. Now, I personally am indignant about the entire forced child marriage fiasco described, but it's the comments behind that story that would tell you how irrational hatred develops, even among the educated.
Now, every culture, every community has some moral problem or the other. America has a serial killer in almost every state. Gun shootouts, racism (still?), paedophilia and adultery is plenty there too. My own culture has a strong caste and class distinction. Women aren't treated with dignity in my community too. But though America and India, acknowledge this social problem, they do not look at it as a major threat. The same with Iran too! All I say is, while it is alright to blame the the criminals for their crime, it does not make sense to generalize the crime to religion or community. (Check out comments 48, 39, 69)
What would this lead to?! Exactly what the guy behind comment number 48 wants. Don't you understand that since this incident has caught global concern, this could be an isolated one? There is definitely a majority of honest, hardworking people who love their families and try to provide for them, even in this evil looking community. What gives you the right to hate a culture for its weaknesses? Condemn the men behind this. Not the community. At least, you know that you're fighting oppression and not countries. At least, you will play your part in preventing World War III
(P.S. Realize, that this is the only article in the entire newspaper has more than 20 comments!)
Now, every culture, every community has some moral problem or the other. America has a serial killer in almost every state. Gun shootouts, racism (still?), paedophilia and adultery is plenty there too. My own culture has a strong caste and class distinction. Women aren't treated with dignity in my community too. But though America and India, acknowledge this social problem, they do not look at it as a major threat. The same with Iran too! All I say is, while it is alright to blame the the criminals for their crime, it does not make sense to generalize the crime to religion or community. (Check out comments 48, 39, 69)
What would this lead to?! Exactly what the guy behind comment number 48 wants. Don't you understand that since this incident has caught global concern, this could be an isolated one? There is definitely a majority of honest, hardworking people who love their families and try to provide for them, even in this evil looking community. What gives you the right to hate a culture for its weaknesses? Condemn the men behind this. Not the community. At least, you know that you're fighting oppression and not countries. At least, you will play your part in preventing World War III
(P.S. Realize, that this is the only article in the entire newspaper has more than 20 comments!)
Wednesday, August 20, 2008
Wisdom from a Rickshaw Puller
Today was one of those days I felt I should share my breakfast. Well, the breakfast was nothing much, just a couple of samosas and a good ol' pack of the 4 rupee parle G. There was just too many thoughts running through my head this morning that I did not want to prepare something more nutritious. Actually I didn't want to do anything this morning except sleep all day. The usual zest of waking up early and doing productive things were absent. (ok.. it makes sense to strike out 'usual') I somehow kicked myself out of my home and went towards the bank. I stopped by the Amberhai Village Agarwal sweet store and bought myself a couple of samosas, a pepsi and a parle-G (just to get some change). I tried and stuff the food into my leather overnighter (which was getting heavier by the second) and was hoping for a teleport to Sector 5. There was a rickshaw guy waiting in front of the lassi shop. Not as great as a teleporter, but it would definitely work. Guess he was waiting for his lassi or something. I asked him if he'd drop me at Sector 5. He thought a bit and then said yes. I didn't ask him for the price. (really didn't care. I didn't care about anything except my good-for-nothing self) As we were trudging along, (or rather him trudging and me enjoying the ride) I decided that it was 'uncool' of me to disturb him from his breakfast, and I should share mine with him. Besides, I couldn't think of sitting out in the open and munching samosas and pepsi. So, after I paid him, I offered him a samosa and some biscuits. We sat in his rickshaw together and ate the samosas and the biscuits. I thought he would feel awkward, but after he found out that I was from Amberhai Village also, he relaxed a bit.
He told me about how he wasted his childhood smoking beedis, and thus he is still a rickshaw puller. He has taken all the blame on himself. That shows character (and a capitalist mindset we JNUites have learned to condemn!). Sure, it's the fault of the society. But is it also his fault? He for one, didn't want to blame anybody else. He also told me that the money is all over the streets in Delhi. You only need the brains to get the money. He said I was an educated boy, and I would be able to earn more money sitting in one place working than he would ever be able to by pulling a rickshaw around. But he told me he has a family and lives happily. We were sitting idling over the biscuits and the samosa, watching the time pass by. I was in a hurry and wanted to rush off to the bank and was feeling the slightest pinches of regret that I had to waste precious time before I got to the bank. He on the other hand felt that he was back in the village where everybody had all the time in the world. After staying for four years in Delhi, he seemed to still have those trusting tendencies an average villager would have. You can take the man out of the village, but man, you can never take the village out of the man!
He began to tell stories of his friends and the way they make money by just using their brains and creating markets where they don't exist. About this one guy who sent his son to the nearby forest to collect random herbs, plant them in plastic bags and sell them for a high price to Dwarka's richest. He also told me a longer story about another guy who made Rs 1055 just like that! The sad thing is, I don't know exactly how the guy made that Rs 1055.. Not because he didn't tell me, but because I didn't understand the pure Hindi he spoke in.
He also pointed out a marijuana in the middle of Sector 5 market, the place where Dwarka's richest shop. He showed me how they extract the pot out of the leaves, and how they used to make blunts and smoke in the village. He wondered aloud as to how much a man could get selling that marijuana. Like they say, if you find the right costumers, (Dwarka's richest, themselves!) you could be selling it for a lot of money! Dwarka's richest will be thinking that the stuff was shipped from Manali or elseswhere, when they actually pass by the source everyday! Obviously, that plant was almost bare, with almost no leaves on them because some kid or the other constantly walks by and plucks them out.
After I ran out of samosas and looked at the time, I decided that I had to run. I needed to get to the damn bank, get my work done (which has been pending for exactly 10 days, by the way) and go on to Shalom and continue to work before 11.00am! I hurriedly said bye and ran to the bank. The work got over pretty fast, and then I got to Shalom, where I am typing this blog.
I don't know if I will ever see that rickshaw-puller again, even though he says he lives in the street just behind my house. But it was nice hearing so much of rustic wisdom for a samosa and a few biscuits. It was fun talking and making friends with him. Though I wonder if he is smarter than I am, gaining my confidence just to (in some mysterious way) make my money walk away from me and toward him. I am told I should follow but one motto when I walk around the city. "Don't trust anyone". Well, I have tried for years now, but I still can't follow this motto as successfully as I should when I try and follow the other motto I was brought up to respect. "Love your Neighbour"
He told me about how he wasted his childhood smoking beedis, and thus he is still a rickshaw puller. He has taken all the blame on himself. That shows character (and a capitalist mindset we JNUites have learned to condemn!). Sure, it's the fault of the society. But is it also his fault? He for one, didn't want to blame anybody else. He also told me that the money is all over the streets in Delhi. You only need the brains to get the money. He said I was an educated boy, and I would be able to earn more money sitting in one place working than he would ever be able to by pulling a rickshaw around. But he told me he has a family and lives happily. We were sitting idling over the biscuits and the samosa, watching the time pass by. I was in a hurry and wanted to rush off to the bank and was feeling the slightest pinches of regret that I had to waste precious time before I got to the bank. He on the other hand felt that he was back in the village where everybody had all the time in the world. After staying for four years in Delhi, he seemed to still have those trusting tendencies an average villager would have. You can take the man out of the village, but man, you can never take the village out of the man!
He began to tell stories of his friends and the way they make money by just using their brains and creating markets where they don't exist. About this one guy who sent his son to the nearby forest to collect random herbs, plant them in plastic bags and sell them for a high price to Dwarka's richest. He also told me a longer story about another guy who made Rs 1055 just like that! The sad thing is, I don't know exactly how the guy made that Rs 1055.. Not because he didn't tell me, but because I didn't understand the pure Hindi he spoke in.
He also pointed out a marijuana in the middle of Sector 5 market, the place where Dwarka's richest shop. He showed me how they extract the pot out of the leaves, and how they used to make blunts and smoke in the village. He wondered aloud as to how much a man could get selling that marijuana. Like they say, if you find the right costumers, (Dwarka's richest, themselves!) you could be selling it for a lot of money! Dwarka's richest will be thinking that the stuff was shipped from Manali or elseswhere, when they actually pass by the source everyday! Obviously, that plant was almost bare, with almost no leaves on them because some kid or the other constantly walks by and plucks them out.
After I ran out of samosas and looked at the time, I decided that I had to run. I needed to get to the damn bank, get my work done (which has been pending for exactly 10 days, by the way) and go on to Shalom and continue to work before 11.00am! I hurriedly said bye and ran to the bank. The work got over pretty fast, and then I got to Shalom, where I am typing this blog.
I don't know if I will ever see that rickshaw-puller again, even though he says he lives in the street just behind my house. But it was nice hearing so much of rustic wisdom for a samosa and a few biscuits. It was fun talking and making friends with him. Though I wonder if he is smarter than I am, gaining my confidence just to (in some mysterious way) make my money walk away from me and toward him. I am told I should follow but one motto when I walk around the city. "Don't trust anyone". Well, I have tried for years now, but I still can't follow this motto as successfully as I should when I try and follow the other motto I was brought up to respect. "Love your Neighbour"
The Floating Leaf (once again)
After listening to Younger Doctor's testimony of how she got her vision, and watching her work tirelessly with great discipline, zeal and "consistency", there's one word that comes to mind. Powerboat. Moving swiftly with purpose, cutting across the water toward the finish-line ahead.
May be this is why God has not given me a vision or a dream for the future yet. If one sets his eyes on a long-term goal, I feel the first rule would be to not take them off it till the end. Obviously, I'll find that very hard to do. Ever since I was a child, I have (much to my parents' disappointment) never been able to keep focussed in one goal for a long period of time. When I was in the fifth standard, I begged my parents to let me join the Karate class after school. After they spent a small fortune on my karate suit (the pajamas and the works), an ID card, I suddenly stopped going. Just like that! Ever since, I was always interested in one... million things at the same time. My interests in the past years have shifted from sports to music to object manipulation to sketching to... I started with badminton (spurred by my father's enthusiasm rather than mine) shifted to Table Tennis, then to basketball (for a very short stretch) then athletics, and finally volleyball! The moment I actually started getting into the circuit and making a name for myself, I dropped out of it, and now I can't say with confidence that I know all the rules. It's the same case with everything else.
If you ask me which direction I'm going, I can't tell you for sure. I've been going in all directions these past 22 years, I'm not sure I'm going left or right or up or down right now. I'm jumping from one ice-block to another in a vast river, going down stream and upstream at the same time.
As powerboats zoom past the floating leaf, he wonders as he bobs up and down in the waves they've created... Will he ever grow up to be one?
May be this is why God has not given me a vision or a dream for the future yet. If one sets his eyes on a long-term goal, I feel the first rule would be to not take them off it till the end. Obviously, I'll find that very hard to do. Ever since I was a child, I have (much to my parents' disappointment) never been able to keep focussed in one goal for a long period of time. When I was in the fifth standard, I begged my parents to let me join the Karate class after school. After they spent a small fortune on my karate suit (the pajamas and the works), an ID card, I suddenly stopped going. Just like that! Ever since, I was always interested in one... million things at the same time. My interests in the past years have shifted from sports to music to object manipulation to sketching to... I started with badminton (spurred by my father's enthusiasm rather than mine) shifted to Table Tennis, then to basketball (for a very short stretch) then athletics, and finally volleyball! The moment I actually started getting into the circuit and making a name for myself, I dropped out of it, and now I can't say with confidence that I know all the rules. It's the same case with everything else.
If you ask me which direction I'm going, I can't tell you for sure. I've been going in all directions these past 22 years, I'm not sure I'm going left or right or up or down right now. I'm jumping from one ice-block to another in a vast river, going down stream and upstream at the same time.
As powerboats zoom past the floating leaf, he wonders as he bobs up and down in the waves they've created... Will he ever grow up to be one?
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