swami and friends

I am a huge fan of RKNarayan. His was the first book I picked for reading and his was the first book which introduced me to the joy of reading. The book was ‘Man Eater of Malgudy’. I picked this book from my Papa’s library which has more than 2000 books. And yes, this number is after more than half the books are stolen. Well, it’s not about any man eating carnivora. It’s about a conman of Malgudy.

This book introduced me to the town of Malgudy, to its people, to its din and bustle. I felt an instant connection with Malgudy. It can be any town in India. Yours..mine..anyone’s. I wish one of the towns of India be rechristened Malgudy in the honor of this great writer. A few years back, I heard Shashi Tharoor criticizing Narayan on the ground that his writings lacked vocabulary. He was with UN at that time. I felt that this man doesn’t possess an eye to literature. With due respect Mr Tharoor, let me state that you do not know abc of writing if you can come up with such statements. He has been corroborating my stance since then with his tweets. Show some restraint Mr Tharoor when you throw stone at people who have achieved heights even one hundredth of which will ensure immortality.

Writing is definitely not about vocabulary. It’s all about reaching the depths of human soul, picking up the feelings, the pain, the struggle and penning it down in such a way that the reader could feel the emotions of the protagonists. If the vocabulary is good, I don’t mind. I don’t want to quote Greene here because I myself an convinced beyond comparison about the greatness of Narayan but here is what he had to say – This is a book in ten thousand (About Swami and Friends).

Swami and Friends is about a small town boy named Swami and his world which is his friends and of course his Mother, Father, his granny and of course his enemies. But the book is called Swami and Friends because Swami doesn’t acknowledge the presence the anything else apart from his friends. Swami goes to school, is poor at studies, loves cricket, fears his Father, comes up with excuses to miss his school, gets spanked by teacher, befriends a bully named Mani who he thinks is the mightiest man in the world, scores poorly in exams. You name the characteristic of a typical 10 year old and he has it and that makes him all the more endearing to me. He appears timid but he is not when he throws the stick from his headmaster’s and leaves the school. He appears apathetic but he is not when he is disappointed with himself for not bringing lemons for his ailing granny. Swami is impulsive and somewhat stupid. Time and again he puts himself in trouble. Swami has a friend called Rajam who is the Captain of MCC (Malgudy Cricket Club) and is the son of the city SP. Swami takes cricket very seriously and is disgusted beyond belief when his granny, who is an ear for all his adventures he recounts at bedtime, displays ignorance about Tate – Swami’s nickname in MCC. Rajam leaves the town when his Father is transferred and Swami gets to meet him only when his train is leaving. Swami is heartbroken and the Mani tells him that Rajam will write to him. Swami asks does he know his address to which Mani replies in affirmative. When Swami asks Mani to give his address, Mani just smiles. How very like us.

Narayan never gets preachy. His characters tell you if you could listen. Swami and Friends reminds me of Me. It tell me that it’s the smallest of things which makes life what it is. It reminds me that I have left my best days behind and I didn’t even realize it. May be they were best because I just lived that time without worrying about making the best use of my time. It tells you to feel from the heart without worrying about getting hurt. Thanks a ton Mr Narayan for making me live my childhood through your couple of hundred pages of pure gem.

Enduro 2006

I was sitting in my cubicle on 3rd of February 2006, when Sarvanan called me.

Let me tell you about Sarvanan. I had the worst of fights with this guy a few days back over a ball of mine which he declared as wide. We patched up later on on Yogo’s insistence. So Sarvanan called and asked me to meet him. I went there and met Saravanan and Trilok. Both these guys told me that they are participating in the Enduro race and unfortunately the team’s captain has got injured in the morning in an accident and will not be participating. Now they had the dilemma before them. The race requires a lot of endurance as the name suggests and it was hard to find a worthy replacement just before the race. These guys were practicing since a month and were all set for this amazing race when this tragedy struck. Well, they didn’t have to ask me twice. I was just dying to compete in the race and hadn’t because I couldn’t find the partners.

I don’t know why they chose to pick me as their third partners. But thanks a ton to them.

The day was spent in getting the kit ready, getting the bicycle from Captain (Shubha Mehrotra) and other formalities. I must mention that if you are not quite used to a geared bicycle, better not use it in a race because it will then be more of a burden than an aid. And Captain’s bike was a geared one and I had to ride that. Well all prepared and done, I went to my place to sleep (Nigdi, which is 25 km from city) at 12.00. Well, it was such a disturbed night as lot of things were there to think and all too hazy.

I got up at 4.00 and left room at 5.00 in order to reach Trilok’s place. Saravanan had slept at Trilok’s place and

we had kept our bikes and kit at his place. We left Trilok’s place at 6.00 and reached the ground- Kataria High School, Swargate in 15 minutes. There we went through the formalities and the race finally started at 8.30. We had to reach Chandni Chowk and from there to NDA where the first time check was located. We reached there and registered the time. And then we had to trek for 12 Kms. We finished it easily, the only problem was that I developed rashes because of thighs rubbing against each other and I had to carry this throughout the race. It really hurts to do things with rashes and when there is no help. But we finished the trek in less than 2 hours thereby being second in this trek.

We came to the reporting point huffing and puffing and then we had to get ready for the rifle shooting. I and Saravanan went ahead and took shots- 5 each. I hit 4 , Saravanan hit 4. After this we had to cycle towards Peacock Bay. Doing this, we had a great view of National Defence Academy. It’s a beautiful, sprawling campus. You can find wild animals there. And the place is so serene and grand that it gets to you. The majestic Sudan house, those be beautiful bunglows, the deserted roads and plenty of trees.

We were not unnecessarily stretching ourselves gven the task we had in hand. But we were steady and were good. We reached Peacock bay and there we had to boating. They had placed a green color ball in the Khadakwasla dam and we had to make a round of it. When we reached Peacock bay, it was time out, means our timing was not being counted. We had a breather and then we signed for the Boating and time started. TK and Saran started rowing while I was giving directions to the boat. After some time I took from Saran and started but because of poor rowing technique had a back pain. TK took over again and rowed. We did average in that event.

Captain’s bike was heavy, very heavy and after that we had to do cycling towards Bhalewadi. Bhalewadi is 17 km from Panshet Waters Sports Club. We passed many a villages and and watching those small kids react was fun. It was very hot and I was so exhausted despite drinking energy drinks continously. Here I want to mention that when on endurance excercises, keep drinking plenty of fluids even if you are not thirsty. Because what happens is ,when you feel thirsty, you are already dehydrated and then you will have bad, real bad cramps and dizziness. But I was so pissed off with the salty drink that I longed for fresh water and stopped my drink completely. On the way I decided that this is my last Enduro race .

On the way I had my bike punctured. luckily it was not far from PWSC. We dragged the bike and reaced PWSC where we had a time out. There we tied to repair the tube and were successful with the problem that we had to remove the front brakes, a risky thing to do in the mountains where brakes are of utmost importance but we had no choice.

Reached Bhalewadi somehow on that bike and then crossed the river on a boat. Refilled our empty bottles from Panshet. There we had to cross the river which is 200 feet deep. I don’t know how to swim but it was easy.They had tied a rope from this end of the river to that end and we just had to hold the rope and move. Saran is a champ swimmer. He was ahead, I was in middle and TK in back to support me.

After river crossing I was told that still 22 kms of trekking is left. I was devastated. I was very tired and wanted to sleep but it was very cold and we had just taken a bath in the river. And we had to start in wet T only.

The flag off was at 00.45 AM and we started. My rashes were troubling me like hell. We continued nevertheless. It was such a beautiful starlit night. Very clear and very calm. Those sleepy villages sorrounding Panshet were looking so ancient, I felt as if I am back in times. Far from the madding crowd. It was very cold and we were stopping for 5 minutes after every 1 hour of trek. I had a drop of brandy to keep myself warm.

We finished that distance of 22 km and reached the check point at 3. And it was time out again so I decided to catch some much needed sleep. After some time, another team from PSL reached. I slept for one hour. Then we had to cycle back towards PWSC. It was decided since I had done cycling on a heavy bike,Saran will ride my bike and I will take his. Saran agreed and started. After a few seconds we heard a crash(It was still dark). Saran was lying on the road. He was not badly hurt though.

We moved on and reached PWSC at 8 and finished the race. Came back on the back of an auto with our bikes. We trekked for around 30km. Cycling around 80 km. 300 meters of river crossin and 500 meters of rowing besides 5 rifle shots.

We were second and we won 5k and a trophy presented to us in a small ceremony. Yes, I didn’t keep my promise and went to compete again next year. Enduro is addictive. I saw an ad of Enduro 2010 in my office today and was filled with nostalgia and pain. It will be second Enduro I will miss and I feel so crippled, so frustrated. I am missing something which I will never have again, something I love to do most.

But I will be back.

The Marathon

It was 29th of November and the last day of registration for National Marathon, popularly known as Pune Marathon.Pune Marathon is India’s national marathon and the champion here is the national champion.

I left office at 4 and reached Nehru Stadium. There was a long queue. I waited in the queue for 3 hours and was finally able to register myself and Trilok Khairnar, famously known as TK. We were given one baniyan and a sticker with number on it. TK is my senior in office and a great adventure junkie.It was with TK I won my Enduro3 in 2006.

Me and TK were preparing for the race since last 15 days though mostly separately. I used to run uphill for about 6 km daily at ARAI Hills. When you run uphill, it works wonders for your stamina. It sky rockets. In a few days, running 10 kms on flat road was like a cake walk.

The race was on 2nd December and the flag off was from Khandoji Baba Chowk(Goodluck Chowk). I reached there at 8.30 and parked my bike at TK’s sister’s place who lives near by. I wore just the red baniyan given by race organizers and the sticker on it, and of course, shorts . I was in the full marathon category and so was to be flagged off first. There was a host of dignitaries and celebrities present to flaf us off. Salman Khan,Sunil Gavaskar, Suresh Kalmadi. And yes, Aarti Chabaria.

We started at 9. Me and TK in tandem. After a couple of kms, when I reached Laxmi Road, I sped ahead of TK and went about the race alone. What a site it was!! Everywhere the traffic was stopped just to let us pass and the crowd cheered us to move. I felt like a Hero. I ran nonstop and reached Pune Central near Yerwada and it was the 10km mark. I saw many people having eggs there. I thought I also will be given eggs and stopped. I can’t resist eggs. Give me a dozen and I won’t say no. After a couple of seconds when no one paid any attention to me, I realized that the eggs were for 10km runners, mostly ladies. So I moved ahead. I stayed there for about 30 seconds.

From there we had to go to Airport Road, Bombay Sappers and Khadki. I didn’t feel any fatigue or exhaustion. Small kids with drums, elderly people to coerce you to move on, people all round to watch you.. with all this, stopping was a shame. I didn’t for a second. Near Bombay Sappers, a gentleman game me some ice cubes and lemons. Let me tell you, these people weren’t the oraganizers or volunteers, but they were involved in the race as mush as I was. Tremendous feeling. When I was about two kms from Khadki, I started feeling pain in my knee joints and it gradually increased.

I had done a mistake. I hadn’t brought race specific shoes and it was costing me now. I was neither tired nor exhausted but the pain in the knee joints was killing. I was a little overweight and running 19 km on tar roads on worn out shoes were taking its toll. I decided against stopping and increased my pace to reach early. By the time I finished half marathon point, I could barely stand and decided against doing the complete race. I had done 21.1 kms in 2.10hrs. I waited for TK for some time but he was nowhere in sight. A bus was waiting there to take us back to the stadium. I boarded it and just fell flat on my seat.

I reached Nehru Stadium and the prize ceremony was on. There were giving ertificates to everyone so I didn’t take it. Now was the predicament. I had to come back to Khandoji Baba Chowk and I had no money. I walked towards it and on the roan in just a baniyan and shorts and tired and limping, was feeling very awkward but since it was a race day, it wasn’t that big an issue. I had difficulty in finding TK’s sister’s house and when I found it, the question was how to get to her floor because I just couldn’t climb stairs. I did it by sitting on the stairs and pulling myself by hand. Got the bike’s keys and money and came back to my room. Was lying there for 2 hours when TK called. He had finished the race. Full 42.2 Kms. And he was very happy.

Next day I had to take leave from office because the pain in the joints didn’t leave. I was ok in a few days.

When I look back at those times, I wonder whether I am the same person or what. Those days, we used to talk like- let’s do 50kms of cycling or 10 kms of jogging in everyday’s talk. I was a different thing then. Last 2 years have been extremely frustrating. Bereft of any activity because of ligament damage, I feel like devoid of any life. It’s so dull. I just want this testing time to pass. God! make me fine. It made me see the beauty of things and has changed me a lot. Not the same guy anymore.

There are two types of people in this world – One who run marathon and one who do not.

Tera Hijr

Long time ago, I had a chance to listen to a song from ‘Razia Sulta’. Those days, Doordarshan used to show one movie every Saturday, and that day, it was this movie.

The song said – ‘Aayee Zanjeer ki Jhankaar’. I loved the voice. Deep baritone. I loved the lyrics though I didn’t understand much. Those days, there were no Internet nor had I the resources to find out the man and the magic behind that song.

One day, my cousin, who takes keen interest in music came to know about it and bang he told me that the voice belongs to one Mr Kabban Mirza. Fair enough.

But I am not talking about ‘Aayee Zanjeer ki jhankaar’, the song I am going to talk about is ‘Tera Hijr mera naseeb hai’. It’s the second song sung by Kabban

Mirza in the same movie. It goes like this:

Tera Hijr mera naseeb hai
Tera Hijr mera naseeb hai
Tera Gham,
Tera gham hi meri hayaat hai

Mujhe teri doori ka gham ho kyun
Mujhe teri doori ka gham ho kyun
Tu kahin bhi ho, mere saath hai
Tu kahin bhi ho, mere saath hai

Tera Hijr mera naseeb hai

Mere vaste tere naam par
Mere vaste tere naam par
koyee harf aaye nahin nahin
Mujhe khauf-e-duniya nahin
Mujhe khauf-e-duniya nahin
Magar
Mere roo-ba-roo teri jaat hai
Mere roo-ba-roo teri jaat hai
Tera Hijr mera naseeb hai

Tera vasl aye meri dilruba
Tera vasl aye meri dilruba
Nahin meri kismet to kya hua
Meri mehejabeen
Meri mehejabeen
Meri mehejabeen, yehi kam hai kya
Teri hasraton ka toh saath hai
Teri hasraton ka toh saath hai

Tera Hijr mera naseeb hai

Its a song of separation. Khayyam gave the music and Nida Fazli wrote it. Khayyam was notoriously perfectionist. He wouldn’t take so called lyricists to write for his movies. People with deep poetical knowledge wrote songs for him – Kaifi Aazmi,Nida Fazli. And when it came to sing those beautiful lines, he wouldn’t go for less than the best. Rafi,Asha,Lata. So when it was proposed that Kabban Mirza should sing this song, he refused. May be he thought that those baareeikis associated with Rafi won’t go into this song, but that wasn’t required. The song was to be sung by a slave in the memory of his beloved princess.

So Mirza sang the song. And I loved it.

The songs translates as:

You separating is my fate
and your longing is my life

Why should I be upset by your separation
Whereever you go, you will be with me
A small dot on your name because of me
Is No, absolutely No

Its not that I am scared of the world
In front of me is your repute.

So what if you are not in my fate
O My darling,
I am happy with your desires

Beautiful lyrics, beautiful music, beautiful voice. I believe this song has inspired at least 500 bollywood super hits.

Urdu is such a rich language. Its a poetry in itself. I am fascinated about Urdu though I do not know abc of it. I had started learning it but couldn’t.
My brother learnt. And so did my cousin. Urdu used to be taught in North Indian rurals. Those Madarsas, those Maulvis. They taught my grandpa. He writes shayaris in Urdu. I believe learning Urdu is a must for singers and lyricists. Lata and Asha had to learn it – infamously told by Dilip Kumar that inke muh se dal bhat ki boo aati hai. Quite harsh, but see, it gave us In aankhon ki masti ke….

I long for more and more such soul rendering stuff.
You can hear the song here:
http://www.raaga.com/play/?id=107875

Two Legends

They have been two top Shikaris turned environmentalists. While Corbett operated in the Jungles of Uttrakhand, Anderson’s domain was the jungle sorrounding Bangalore(He stayed and worked in Bangalore), Andhra Pradesh and erstwhile Madras state. Cornett worked in Uttarakhand and Mokama(near Patna) for 20 years as Railway Goods Supervisor.

Both loved India and have written at lenght about India and its people. Both were Indian. Yes, they were more Indian than any of us.

Corbett obviously is more celebrated than his South Indian counterpart because of various reasons. One of them is because of the popularity(read notorierity) of the game he counted and also because of one particular game(The Man Eater of Rudraprayag), his fame reached far fetched corners of India because this particular Leopard was operating in an pilgrimage and hence when the pilgrims returned to their native state, the Leopard’s tale also reached there with them.

However, I am a bigger fan of Corbett. I have found a loopholes too many in Anderson’s approach. Also Corbett was more daring and more sympathetic and calculated in his approcah towards any carnivora.

Corbett liked to operate alone. before venturing into the Jungle after a Carnivora, his first condition was to remove all the soprtsmen from the area. The reason was he thought a stray bullet from one of the over enthusiastic soprtsmen will count for him rather than the Man-eater he was after. No such rules for Anderson.

Corbett was more daring. Anderson never ventured to the Jungle following the victim’s blood-trail. He had a simple approach. Tie the baits, let the Animal take the bait. Sit on a Machan over tha bait and kill the animal if he comes near. He hardly sat over a human kill. Two exceptions of this rule I know is the one in which he Sat over the dead body of a village girl and the other to count for the Man-Eater of Manchi, he sat over the dead body of a 14 year old boy. Corbett always followed the animal.
The reason of this could be Anderson stayed in Bangalore and by the time he got the news, there was nothing left of the victim to sit over. Corbett stayed in the Jungle. He more often than nought was there to sit for the kill in time. But I have seen Corbett following a man eater and shooting him which Anderson never did.

Corbett counted for Carnivora who were far more cunning and dangerous than the ones Anderson counted. Champawat Man-eater counted for 450 lives. The Rudraprayag Leopard 128 and so. But then it wasn’t Anderson’s fault if he bagged them early.

Corbett was a better shot. A far better shot. He carried 2-3 bullets because he knew he would bag the sport in those 2 shots. Anderson fired many and many a times without success. Here Corbett score heavily against Anderson.

There are a couple of instances which have left me aghast against Anderson.
1. While after Man-Eater of Manchi, he fired 3 rounds in the dark sitting inside his tent when the Man-Eater’s paws groped his bed. He could have waited for Tiger’s head to emerge from from inside the tend and could have had a easy shot. Instead, out of fear or what, he tool 3 shots in dark and succeeded in saving his life but then the Tiger counted for another boy. He has written about his stupidity.

2. He tried to follow the same tiger with a 14 year old boy and a middle-aged man. And to top this ghastly mistake of pitching a 14 year unarmed lad against a Man-Eater, he let him separate from him about a 100 yards and when Tiger struck, he was not there to save this little Boy. Anderson was to blame.

3. While sitting over the dead body of a new Mother which the Tiger had taken, he had 3 shouts on the tiger froma distance of 10 yards, but the tiger escaped, though badlu hurt, but he escaped to die of old age.

Corbett could attract a carnivora by imitating the sound of its mate and when it came nearer, he counted for it. Something I haven’t heard Anderson doing it.

Having been a little critical on Anderson, I would say that how many of us have the guts to sit near a tree with a dead body in front and a Man-Eating tiger near by. Anderson had that guts and that guts and his knowledge of the jungle makes him only endearing to me. Corbett has been my ultimate Hero and Anderson is not far behind.

God save Indian Jungles. Parties, Good roads, electricity are important but the Jungles and the fauna are a must. Nothing beats the high of sitting alone in a jungle and listening to it and if you are really lucky, you can hear a tiger calling in the distance – Aaungh..Aaungh…Oorgh. Future generations won’t be that lucky. I bet.

Football

Once upon a time in 2007
_____________________________________________________

It started on a boring summer afternoon. We (Me and Atish) were on gtalk and the talk drifted towards football. Atish and I have played lots of football together in college. It was a pleasure to play in my college play ground. It was a standard football field ground with lush green grass and it gave you a stadium sort of feeling where the ground is at a level lower from the spectator’s row.

It had been almost 4 years since we played our last match in college and the feeling that we will never ever get to play on that ground was just too much for us. Our batch had such an outstanding record in the College Tournaments. In 4 years, we lost only the first match we played and then started the era of complete dominance. Others teams played just to come second. The victory margins were in excess of 3 all the time and an aura of invincibility was stored and maintained. We permanently retained the football trophy after winning it 3 times in a row and yours truly being declared Golden Boot three times in a row

So, we were discussing about that boring afternoon. It was Atish who mooted the idea of a get together of our batch’s football team and play against the current NIT,Patna team for one last hurrah. I said yes. Manoj said yes. Dev and Sameer were tentative. Kamlesh was married and didn’t take call. In short it was a task next to mission impossible to have people together after 4 years from the far flung regions just to play Football. Nevertheless, the mission was on. I reached Patna on 16 August. Atish was already there and so was Manoj. We met the college team and told them about our plan. They were very enthusiastic despite having exams round the corner. Our good old referee,Lal Babu, was called upon . I shared a love hate relationship during my college days. When he was not referring in our match, he was playing with the local teams which I hated and that showed in the matches. Anyways, The match was scheduled on 22nd of August.

Now was the turn of shocks. To our horror we realised that things have changed. The same guys who were ready to play 24 x 7 were finding it difficult to manage even one hour despite being intimated well in advance. I can’t blame them. May be the passion had diminished, may be the game had taken a backseat amidst the struggle of job and life. In short, we were only three from the great eleven of yesteryears. And amongst us, Manoj had a ligament injury, but he said he will be in the goal. We were now 2 1/2. Then we decided to call our passed out juniors. Fortunately some of them agreed and we had a team just before the D-Day. We paid for their journey and arranged their stay in the famous NEH.

On the match eve, it was very pleasant to see our Manager, ‘The Great George’ coming from nowhere to join us. George is my batch mate and had been our manager. All those nourishments(read Cigarettes) before,during and after the match was his duty. Post match late night parties were also his responsibility. So the match started. The entire NIT team was stacked against ageing former superstars. I was playing mid-field and Atish was Forward. The first half was at 1-0 against us. The effect of time was clearly visible on us. Atish was huffing and puffing to reach the ball I passed. I too missed a couple of chances. One only the goal keeper to beat, I saw my shot hitting the goal post and bounce back. It still hurts while I am writing. The second half saw us conceding 3 more goals. The score was 4-0 against us. We lost. We could have won. But we lost.

In the evening we hosted a party at Hotel Maurya. The teams got together and celebrated. I was happy to play on my beloved ground once again and to relive all those moments. You may find it quite weird that someone like us(working people) will travel 2000 km just to play one hour of Football. But buddy, this is Football. If you don’t understand, you never will.

My First Love

 

It’s been so many years. I don’t remember exactly, perhaps I was six when I had the immeasurable pleasure of seeing her for the first time. It was love at first sight.

 

At six, clasped tight in Papa’s arm, blinking eye in astonishment at every other thing and challenging Papa’s cool with his ‘wise’ questions-a kid
 is supposed to be ignorant of this thing called ‘Love’, but I know that it was love, true love.
 

Her first looks are still afresh in my memory. How gorgeous she was looking in her red outfit. At that very moment I decide that one day she will be mine and I will be hers. But here was the usual story-lots of hurdles await the lovers. People told me that I will  have to study a lot to be able to ask for her hand.
  

“How much?”, I asked.
“This much!”, they stretched their arms wide at 180 degrees.

But instead of being overawed by the vastness their arms projected, I was now more adamant in my view that anyhow, by hook or by crook, she will have to be mine.
  

After that there existed only three things for me-study, sports and ’she’. And the first two I just mentioned here are also closely related to the last mentioned, the ‘she’. Study, as I mentioned earlier was meant to make me eligible enough to ask for her and sports-this hobby I  pursued just to be near her.

 

There exists a big playground where she lives and each evening I had to make sure to be there with a football or a cricket bat and feel the warmth of closeness to her. And she also seemed to enjoy my company very much because not even once she forgot to be there in the evening and stayed there staring at me, watching me play all those lovely evenings and it was only after immense sufferings and agony, I used to say her goon-night.

 

On Sundays, I used to totter around her streets all day, hoping to get a glimpse of her and hardly I returned disappointed. At home, Mother, as soon as she saw me, black  and exhausted by sunstroke, called Father and said,” This  boy is up to something very serious-he doesn’t tell and I am afraid he might get himself in trouble. And that followed by umpteen questions about my whereabouts that day and it was only me who could face such questions and still evading any chance of suspicion. Be it heavy rain or biting chill, this lover always reached his destination defeating the nature. And the most troublesome part of all my brave journeys was the ‘good-bye’; I had to day at last. Even the best of the dictionaries will fall short of words in describing my pain and sufferings in saying those two words. Ah! Those were the days.
  

But then, I had to force myself on the torturous task of studying, keeping myself away from her. I passed my Matric, then Inter and then came the litmus test, the final barrier between us, and the examination that was supposed to give me the authority to ask for her.
  

I appeared and didn’t perform well enough at the exam to be sure enough. I was keeping my fingers crossed when came the news-I was selected but there were better candidates than me who were making a beeline for her. I was told that I will have to wait to see what happens. I
kept my hands close to my heart and prayed.
 

 An hour passed, and then another, then another till I left counting. In evening a gentleman in white shirt emerged and came to me, patted me on my back and said” Go son,she is yours.”.
  

“she..is…..….YOURS”,I was dumbfounded. Unable to utter anything, I could only manage to mumble “Thank you, Sir!”. After this, for some time I was out of sorts. So many things whirling in my mind and a joy that seemed  to burst out any moment breaking all boundaries and
 limitations.
  

“Gotcha”,I yelled at the top of my voice and looking heavenwards thanked ‘Him’.
 

 I came back home running at top speed to give this ultimate news to my family members.
 Everyone congratulated me on my luck.

 

 Our engagement was fixed on 15th September.
  

I sat down to recollect everything-her first sight, my  attempts to be near her, studies, sports, those lovely  days, evenings, exams, results and everything. My hard labor and dedication had finally been awarded and in what a good form!.

 

I must mention here that it was her love that kept me going and put me on the right track. After all, true love finds its way.
 

 I dressed in t-shirt and jeans and hurried off to attend my first lecture in her loving care and protection.
  

Can you guess her name? Well, no points for guessing it  right. I am talking about my Alma Mater - NIT, Patna.

 

 

My college-my pride, my possession..

 

 

 

A Prized Possession

I think I am an impulsive buyer. But I have seen myself restraining from splurging many a times. I do not. But somehow I have been labeled an impulsive shopper so many a times that I have started believing this.

It was 3rd of July 2008 and I had some money in my account. Buying a DSLR camera has been my long cherished dream. I always wanted to buy a DSLR and to just get lost in the jungle and shoot animals.

I had been searching for a good SLR camera all over the net and had zeroed in a shop in Aundh called Camshot. I started at 10.00 in the morning on my bike and reached Aundh. I was caught on the Bremmen Circle for violating the red light and had to pay the fine. A bad start, but it didn’t deter me.

I reached the shop and asked Babbu ji( the shop owner), who was sitting alone, to show me the camera. Man, did it look gorgeous. I was to hold a DSLR for the second time in my hand (The first time during my third Enduro race when one of the photographers was shooting me).

The price of this beauty, Nikon D60, was 33k along with the camera bag, Battery charger, one extra 1 GB SDHC memory and one year of warranty. Apart from this I had 2 GB SDHC card, a 18-55 mm Nikor VR Lens. The lens is of the very low capacity but I will get a bigger one soon. Right now, I am very happy to get this.

Quite surprisingly, my mom also encouraged me to buy this camera

Casuality

It was August 17th of 2008 and we had a match against Infosys. We have not been doing very well in this edition of MKM. Having drawn just one match out of 4 and losing others.

I was particularly keen on doing well in this match since a few of my team members were not present because of the long weekend (Independence Day). But it so happened that I reached the ground at 9.55 and the match was to start at 10.00. It was my fault entirely as I delayed in leaving for the ground. Tamal kept waiting for me and I didn’t start in time. So I reached just 5 minutes before the match.

I didn’t get the time to warm up and stretch which is mandatory before a game of football. I rushed into the ground. The match was hardly into its first 10 minutes. The score was 0-0. They got a corner. I tried to clear the ball by heading and while trying to do so I ran backward and then as I was taking a jump, I felt an excruciating pain in my left ankle and I knew right away that I am gone. It’s all because I didn’t warm up.

I would advise all of you to warm up properly before entering into the playground especially if you are above 16 .

Well I went to see the doctor after the match and was advised bed rest. It has swollen pretty bad because of the soft tissue damage.

I wish to recover soon and could resume my activities. The beauty of things you do not appreciate unless you lose it.

Save Tigers

The project tigers was launched by Ms. Indira Gandhi, then PM of India, with much fanfare, hope and optimism to save India’s national animal from going extinct. At that time, the number of tigers in Indian jungles had reduced to 2000. Some 9 national parks were identified as the tiger reserves and great care was taken to save the most beautiful animal in the world.. SARISKA(Rajasthan) was one of them.

This year there has been no tigers found in Sariska. Last year there were eighteen. When wildlife conservationists ventured into Sariska for Tiger count there were horrified to find that there were no scratch marks on the trees, no pug marks and no Tiger. Where are they?

When the Director of the Sariska was asked this question, his reply was that there are some strange disease spread in our reserves and it might have contributed to the death of the tigers. Might have?? He didn’t find it necessary to find the reason. When Mr. Thapar went into the jungle and made this startling disclosure that all the tigers have been killed in Sariska, his camera was confiscated by the authorities and he was not allowed to go into the forest.

The CBI a few years ago has reported that every year the number of tigers in India as suggested by the authorities were exaggerated. And they reported tigers being killed by the poachers regularly however with the collusion of the officials will need further enquiry.

The Animal Planet showed a tigress with her a few hours old cubs. It was a divine sight. Later that tigress was killed in the trap by the poachers. Her cubs died as well.

As an estimate, there have been left less than 4000 tigers in India and this figure we know is exaggerated. There won’t be more than 2000 at max. And its an herculean effort that will require from the government machinery, WPSI, people and from everywhere to save this magnificent beast from following the path of Indian cheetah.

Inbreeding is going to be a major issue. There have been so few tigers that the gene pool diversity is poor.And of-course poaching. There is a great demand of Tiger skin in Tibetan culture. One skin fetches around 15k $. Bones are considered to be aphrodisiac. So the market is very lucrative and relatively hassle free thanks to the callous attitude of the bureaucrats. Shrinking habitat. Pressure on jungles due to ever increasing human population. Unemployment and lack of awareness about wildlife.

People like Sansar Chand who is in this business for decades has been responsible for over 700 tiger kills.

Laws should be more stringent. There should be a death penalty for an endangered species kill. Because not only you kill the animal, you kill a link in the delicately prepared food chain. You kill the environment, and hence you kill people. This will act as a deterrent.

The first step for the government is to accept that they have failed and the situation is critical. No harm in this. Accept it gracefully and only then there could be done anything. People living alongside wild animals should be relocated or should be provided information about the flora and fauna. We the people should take responsibility and should donate to the People who are working for wildlife conservation.

It won’t be even a decade, if situation doesn’t improve, that tigers would be seen in movies and books only and that day would be a black day for Man. Because tigers deserve to stay here as much as we do. And what a pity it would be if our future generation would be deprived of the pleasure of watching this magnificent animal and to put him in awe for its sheer beauty, grace and power.

You can make donations to

http://www.wpsi-india.org/donations/index.php

I will do whatever I could because who knows that that money I donated helped save a tiger..