The Irking Question

Having a solitary dinner in a rather posh restaurant can affect your appetite. The menu card might be a compelling read, but the fact that you are alone would just put a check on your interest. I was in a similar situation a couple of days back in a hotel in Pune. The menu card was studded with star dishes coupled with super star rates. However, rates were not going to bog me down. I was in a mission to hog. I had not dined at a restaurant for many months now, and my taste buds had not only died, it had been given last rites as well.

I had just finished ordering and waiting for my meal to come when a rather boisterous family came along. The family comprised of a man, a woman and their son who was probably 5 -6 years old. Kids have an unusual adrenaline rush when they have outings. Parents try to control the gusto of the child, as they feel that the excitement of the kid would reveal the fact that they don’t take the kid outside to the society. And hence, the control of the kid’s emotion starts at an early age itself.

This kid wanted to play around, he wanted to talk to all the customers (I guess the Manager of the restaurant ought to learn something from the kid) He wanted to taste Paneer Butter Masala, but was controlled by his discipline freak parents. It is a different issue that he wanted to taste it from the neighbor’s platter, but still the kid wanted to have a ball ; and the parents weren’t given him one( in other words , the kid’s dad didn’t have the balls for it).

I was admiring the kid when he suddenly walked up to me. He was rather shy, and was smiling at me. In order to be polite, I offered the kid some snacks that were present on my table. But he resisted the temptation to accept my offer. I guess the kid had eye balls on his back of the head, as he could vision his parents glaring at my attempt to being polite and kind.
“What is your name? “, I asked the kid softly.
“My name is Sanjay”, the kid was quick to answer. I was sure that his parents would have made him memorize the answer. I was just about to ask the kid another question when he came up with one.
“Aap ka kya naam hai? Aap kahan se ho?”, the kid seemed to have built a good rapport with me as he was talking in his mother tongue.
I twitched, I was uncomfortable. I tried to escape from the question, by offering him some Papad not knowing that only kids were not victims of bribery in India.
“Ah!! I don’t speak Hindi Kid!” I replied to the kid, feeling ashamed.
The kid blinked. He didn’t comprehend the answer that I gave. He scratched his head, rather violently which sprinkled some dandruff on the Papad.
“But uncle, Hindi toh Hamara Official Language hai Na?” the kid had hit the nail not on my head, but in the backsides of many people. He had hit the nail not only on me, but on a dying politician who refused to let the Official Language creep into schools of his state. On people who had hatred towards their fellow Indians from the northern part of the country. On states that fought for ownership of Major cities. On people who vandalized public property in the name of protecting state’s culture. On people who man handled their countrymen for their “sons of the soil” status.

I just smiled at the kid, he ran away in a couple of minutes. I wish I could answer his question in the Official language. But I couldn’t. Minutes later, the food that I had ordered for arrived, but I already had some food for thought. Thanks to the kid.

Game Set & Match

CATASTROPHE ON COURT

“Game set & match, Nikhil” even before the chair umpire announced these words which were wearisome to him, the result was inevitable. The inevitable has often been delayed, and seldom conquered in sports. But neither of the two happened on that gruesome and disgusting day. The miniscule crowd present wasn’t exactly gob smacked or flummoxed by the way things had unfolded on the Tennis court. Even Nikhil wasn’t punching his fists or shrieking his lungs out on his triumph. He did the customary smack of the ball to the crowd (as if it was Rolland Garros) and approached the net for embracing his opponent who hadn’t taken a single game of him.

“Well played mate.” Karan held out his hand and threw a sheepish smile towards him which went right through him as if he was transparent. The two words were a sportsman’s gesture even to the worst of players on their bad hair days. However, Karan didn’t get the gesture. He gave Karan a violent handshake which was a touch too robust for him. There isn’t any handshake language, but Karan could clearly make out what he said. “Why do you even touch the racquet?” The chair official was no different and I was sure that almost every single human and even some species of animals that were present there would have been snarling at Karan for the mismatch that they had witnessed. The fact that 30 odd people who watched the match free of cost did not mean that they could stand anything so ridiculous.
They weren’t exactly expecting a “Sampras-Agassi “duel, but time was essential for these good hearted people who had the patience to watch district level matches.

Karan switched from his Tennis outfit to a T shirt and a track pant. He had to make sure he made an early exit. He didn’t want to prolong the irritation of the crowd by the staying in close proximity to them. Karan had a feeling that the people would lynch him to death if he didn’t get the hell out of there.
Karan started his bike, just when a small old man interrupted him. The man, probably a septuagenarian about 5 feet tall was staring at karan. Karan scanned his body from head to toe, just to make sure he was not having a dagger or an AK 47. If he had either one of them, he wouldn’t have hesitated in pulling the trigger or forcing the dagger into Karan’s Stomach which lacked the Hunger for victory.
Karan was relieved to see the stare twist into a smile. He came up to Karan, patted my shoulder before saying “Son that was some great cricket! “. Karan was confused for a second, much like he was on the court an hour back. There were two eventualities to the statement of the old man. A) The man was insane to the core and had no idea as to what was happening. B) He was probably stating the most sarcastic sentence ever in his life.

A little bit of common sense told Karan that the latter was more likely than the former.
Karan accelerated his bike and fled!
Home was way different from the hostile crowd. They obviously wouldn’t lynch Karan who was at his “worst-best”, but he wouldn’t get a warm reception as well.
Mom never inquired about the results as she knew it had only one answer. Karan’s younger brother was the “salt-adder” to the wounds of Karan. He would watch only Tennis on the days of a Karan defeat, which meant he watched a lot of Tennis off late.

Karan’s dad didn’t know an inch about Tennis, which Karan discovered 10 years late. He had once told Karan “Federer should improve his Grass court play”. After which he gave a proud smile. But it probably didn’t matter as he was minting money in a mint company of Dubai.

Karan reached home and was quick to get into the bathroom. Bathrooms are great places to be in times of acute diversity and deep depression. A nice and refreshing bath helped Karan in overcoming the damage caused by the on court catastrophe. Karan had had nearly hundred baths in the similar situation.

THE MENTOR

Karan switched on the IPod and hit the bed as hard as he could. He only wished he could hit the tennis ball equally hard.
“Where is my boy?” Raju Mama; Karan’s uncle made a dashing entrance into Karan’s room. Karan’s room was a lion’s den. No one dared breaking Karan’s sleep. Even Karan’s mom found it tough to muster the courage and disturb the lion’s slumber. However Raju shared an intimate bonding with Karan. It was Raju who persuaded Karan to pick up the tennis racquet instead of the cricket bat.
In India, if hundred kids are placed near a table containing a cricket bat, a hockey bat & a tennis racquet. 98 of them would fight their butt to get the cricket bat. The remaining two would go for the other two racquets, and would hence be termed insane.
Raju was a firm believer in the fact that tennis was the toughest sport on the planet. No other sport required the amount of sheer physical and mental strength that tennis required. In team sports, you could take the back seat when nothing is going your way. You could place your cards on your own players in need. But in tennis, it’s only YOU.
If the chips are down, raise the bar! If there is lack of form, get into it ASAP! Every damn move taken on course of the game is the individual’s sole responsibility. Karan had played brilliant tennis few years back. He pulverized opponents with his killer forehands and soft drops near the net. But everything seemed to have vanished, as always is the case in India. Talent has hitherto been short lived and every time there is an emerging talent, it seems to die down with the hunger for the sport turning into hunger for money and fame.
A talented girl from Hyderabad announced herself on the world stage in spectacular fashion, but it petered out without any notable achievements. No Indian had made it past the quarter finals of ATP events. Similarly, after a swashbuckling start Karan’s Tennis seemed to have hit a road block. Only in this case, the road block was bigger than the road. Karan had not registered a single victory for a year now, and by the looks of it the famine could continue the following year as well.

“I can’t take it anymore, I am thinking of quitting Tennis and pursuing my studies in Australia.” Karan was fed up. He had slogged his ass off and got admissions in top notch universities, but his passion for tennis had stopped him every time from crossing the sea.
“Hmmm, give it one more chance son! You know the Emerging Players Series means a lot to you. You have dreamt of winning it. Don’t you wanna give it one final shot?” Raju remarked.
Karan remained silent. He wasn’t sure about what he was to do. On one hand, he felt like never touching the Tennis Racquet, on the other he felt like running out and chasing his dream of winning the series.
“Ok son! Think about it! The series starts in couple of weeks. You know there are two practice games as well. See you soon on the court.” Karan was surprised that Raju was confident about Karan playing the series. All his life, Raju had dreamt of becoming a professional Tennis player. However, family pressures prevented him from becoming one. In India, family pressure is a thorn in the flesh of a sportsman. Raju was no different. He quit Tennis, and when Karan was born; he promised himself that he would nurture Karan into a good Tennis player. He knew that it was always going to be adverse, especially in a cricket mad nation. But all that he wanted was to develop Karan into a player who would give his best on the Tennis court.


THE DREAM

“KARAN, HIT THE BALL HARD! I WILL DO THE REST”.
“Whoa!” Karan woke up with a stutter. Off late, he had not really had dreams and hence this one did sure give him a buzz. Karan looked at the clock. “Shit, I better make a move!” Karan quickly got ready and raced to Raju’s house.
“Mamu! You know what happened today? I had the weirdest dream in my life. Lord Vishnu came in my dream and told me to give my best, and he would do the rest.
Raju gave a perplexed look. “Oh! That is really weird! I thought god had better stuff to do than console struggling amateur players”
Raju had a point. It could be only Karan’s imagination. Karan convinced himself that it was indeed a dream, and not god bestowing upon him.
“Well, what else did God tell you? “
“Ah! Nothing much, just told me to hit the ball hard that is it! Could it really be god? “
“I have no clue son!”
“Hmmm. Anyway catch you later; I have to leave for practice. You will be there for the first match right!”
“Ah well! I have an appointment with a production company for a movie. I will let you know how it goes.”
“Oh great! You got some new assignments? “
“I might get some! Raju smiled.
“Ok then, I better get going. Bye, take care! “Karan zoomed off in his bike.

THE DREAM COMES TRUE!

Karan was having a disturbed sleep. Thud! There was a noise. Karan got a feeling that someone else was in the room. He sprung up. He had to check the situation. There had been thefts in the locality in recent times, and Karan didn’t want to take a chance.
“KARAN! MY CHILD! HOW ARE YOU? “, A strange voice spoke. Karan turned around slowly. The scene that he was about to witness shocked him.
Lord Vishnu stood in front of him. Mighty and majestic, Lord Vishnu was almost the same as humans portrayed him. With his dark skin color and the abundant ornaments, the PRESERVER was standing in front of him.
“KARAN! THE DIVINE FORCES ARE WITH YOU. DO NOT WORRY. HIT THE BALL HARD. I WILL DO THE REST!”
Karan fainted right at that moment.
Karan woke up on his bed, mesmerized and awestruck. To his amazement, he was sleeping under the quilt. “Did it really happen? “ Karan asked himself. He assumed that it could be only a dream because of the fact that he was on the bed when he woke up, rather than being on the floor. He had remembered that he had fainted on the floor. He also inquired his mom whether she had helped Karan in putting him on the bed.
The incidents prior to the practice match had made a serious impact on Karan. He was in a serious conflict of the mind.
Were the incidents real?
Was I hallucinating?
Was I going mad?
Karan found it hard to get answers for these questions that pricked him on the inside.

SAME OLD TALE

Karan was up against a rookie in the first practice match. The rookie had taken giant steps in the game, and in no time he had become the talk of the town. In fact, good players are talked about in whispers while the bad ones got the loud talk.
After the first set, there wasn’t any change in the tale for Karan. He lost the set 6-2 and didn’t have a single winner in it. The 2 games won were due to some unforced errors by the rookie and 2 good serves from Karan. The second set was pathetic, and Karan went on to lose the match 6-2, 6-1. Karan wasn’t really surprised at the result. He guessed that the next match would be no different, and the result was a friend of Karan. It didn’t disappoint Karan’s guess. He lost it at 6-3, 6-0.
“So what do you think? Will I win tomorrow? “Karan had a wry smile on his face.
“Well, you could if you play well.” Raju was equal at the task. “Whatever happens son! Just remember to put in your best, tables can turn.”
“Hmmm. I will try Mamu. I was wondering if I will be playing my last game tomorrow. Coz if I lose, I don’t think I have it in me to continue the sport.” Karan’s head was hung low. He cleared his throat.
Anyway! Let’s hope I play the Big Final on Sunday.” Karan’s eyes were damp.
“See you Mamu. Love you! Bye.”

Karan was finding it tough to sleep. He had already consumed several litres of coffee for curbing his headache but the pain refused to quit.
“HIT THE BALL HARD. I WILL DO THE REST!” God told and left
Karan woke up. He had faced another encounter with the almighty. It was screwing his mind up, and he didn’t know who to tell. Raju Mama was his only option and he too was nonchalant about it. Karan was just not in the right frame of mind going into the first hurdle.

THE HARD SMACK

The nerves were jangling and hands were shivering for Karan. He was up against Vishal Rane. This player had beaten the heck out of Karan two years back. Vishal had a fierce back hand which he delivered with a grunt of a wild boar. To add to it, his stamina was top draw and the odds were heavily stacked against Karan.
Wham! That was ace number 10. Vishal was serving big, and he was doing it at phenomenal efficiency. Karan had managed to hold serve for 2 games, but if he didn’t break him soon. The match would be over.
Smack! Then the unbelievable happened. Karan smacked a return of Vishal, to get his first winner in about many days as possible.
“It was indeed god! “ Karan felt it. There was something that forced him in playing the shot. It felt as if God was holding the Racquet with him.
To the crowd’s disbelief, Karan started to flourish. There was a spring in his step. He was striking the ball as hard as he could. He was also dropping the ball in the craftiest manner. It was a different Karan, A rejuvenated man.
After 2 hours of battle, he found himself on match point. It was a point which Karan had never imagined himself, even in his wildest of dreams. In fact, meeting God was not a dream at all. It was the best thing that happened to him.
Crunch! The match was over. “Game set & Match, Karan “. Karan could not believe the words of the umpire. For a second, he was standing with the mouth wide open, so big that even a Tennis ball could easily go through. It was a moment to remember for Karan. He had arrived on the stage. Now the question was, will he stay there?

BLITZKRIEG

The triumph of Karan was the buzz of the Tennis town. Back home, Karan was reliving the magical moments of the day. He had gone to Raju Mama and spoken hours about his victory. His mom had prepared sweets to celebrate the victory and his younger brother switched off the TV and went to sleep.
“The smack did it “Karan reminded himself. “I need to see God tonight. Hope he comes”.

“KARAN MY CHILD, IT FEELS GREAT TO SEE YOU WINNING. HOPE YOU REMEMBER WHAT I TOLD. HIT THE BALL HARD. I WILL DO THE REST”.
Karan was upbeat for the next game. He had got God’s Darshan on the previous night and he was delighted with the divine companion that he had. He wondered why he felt the “God thing” always murky. He always had difficulty in remembering the events that succeeded the encounter with god.

“Game Set & Match, Karan”…..
“Game Set & Match, Karan”….
Karan found himself amidst a purple patch. He had stormed his way into the Big Final on Sunday. Raju Mama was going Gaga as the tables had indeed turned. Karan wasn’t telling Raju about the Divine link, as Raju would think my screws had come out of victory.
Besides, Karan didn’t want to tell anyone about the secret and reduce his credit for the success. Karan had several meetings with God, and it was his Darshan that bestowed all powers in Karan. Karan was one step away from glory; he had suffered a lot for it. He even made god suffer. But this time, he didn’t want to miss the chance.
“I can’t believe I am playing tomorrow” Karan was amused. He was chuckling at himself.
“I told you Son! You just have to play well” Raju replied.
Karan wanted to tell him that there was something more. But he shut his mouth as he knew that no one would believe him.
“Listen Karan! Just do what you do well! Smack the ball hard! Rest is history”




THE BIG FINAL

The day had finally arrived. The day that Karan thought would never come. The day that that could change Karan’s life forever. Though Karan should have been excited and pumped, he was a touch sad. God did not appear, and that made him a bit nervous.
However, he was confident of the Divine Link and was sure that God wouldn’t let go of him in the last minute.
Karan locked horns with Rahul Singh in the Final. It was the toughest opponent, and the rightful opponent to beat in the final. Rahul Singh was “Roger Federer” of the domestic circuit. He dispatched opponents with blithe, and was icy cool in tense scenarios. He hardly gave chances to his opponents and was very strong from the baseline. He sapped the energy of opponents, and slowly diminished the chances of opponent’s victory.
As expected, the games were tight. The first set was a tie break which Rahul won quite comfortably. The second was even tighter with the tie break stretching to 15 points.
“15 All” It was Rahul’s serve.
Wham! The serve was brilliant. But Karan was up to the task. He gave a solid return to Rahul. Rahul was playing at his best. He started Grinding Karan by prolonging the Rally.
By now, the rally had stretched for more than five minutes, and Karan’s stamina was decreasing. He had to muster the strength to find one shot to surprise Rahul.
HIT THE BALL HARD. I WILL DO THE REST. HIT THE BALL HARD. I WILL DO THE REST
The words buzzed around Karan’s mind. He was waiting for the divine force to act upon him.
Smack! It was a winner. Karan had pulled it off. The point was such an important one considering the situation.
“16-15, Karan”
Karan was to serve. He gathered his strength. He had to find one strong serve to get him the set. Just one shot!
Slam! It was an ace. “Come on! “ Karan grunted. He was pumped & kicked. The set was Karan’s and he was on his way for the title.
The final set was an absorbing battle. By now, both the players were drained out, and the shots were not packed with power. However, Karan was finding strength to smack the ball in the open areas of the court.
It was 5-4, 30-30. Karan was serving. Two points to Rahul would make him the champion.
Karan served, Rahul retorted back. The return was strong and Karan found it difficult to return the ball to Rahul. In the process, Karan slipped. Rahul could have sealed it there. But his return astonishingly hits the nets, and ricochets back into his side of the court. On another day, the ball could have ended in Karan’s court. But it was not to be so.
When Karan got that point, he wasn’t ready to let go of the opportunity. He went on to win the game, and finally stood match point after breaking Rahul’s serve for the first time in the match.
Match point. Suddenly, the one point seemed far away. Karan had made a remarkable journey. But all was not done. He still had to take that evasive point which would make him the champion. His palms were sweaty, and his head was spinning in tension.

Crack! That’s it! Karan did it. He served an ace to seal it.
“Game set & match, Karan”.
Karan could not control his tears. He looked for Raju Mama and his family who were seated a little far from the court. He ran up to Raju.
“You fool you wanted to leave this and go to Australia?! “ Raju controlled his tears as he spoke.
“I swear Raju Mama, I will never go to Australia” Karan hugged Raju mama tightly. It was the moment Raju had waited for. His dream had become reality. Raju wept heavily as Karan hugged him.
“I would go to Australia for one thing though” Karan said.
Raju looked at Karan with curiosity “For what?”
“Have you heard of the Rod Laver Arena? “ Karan smiled as he spoke. Raju hugged him

3 YEARS LATER

The huge crowd present wasn’t really flummoxed with the way things had unfolded on the court. Even Karan’s opponent wasn’t punching his fists or shrieking his lungs out for the triumph. He just served an ace, did the customary smack into the crowd, and reached the net for embracing his opponent Karan who had not taken a single game of him.
“Well Played Karan “, He was generous in his words. He was too modest for his talent.

“Well played. Roger …… Sir!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
“Game Set & Match, Roger Federer”






THE SECRET


“So what do you think? Will I win tomorrow? “Karan had a wry smile on his face.
“Well, you could if you play well.” Raju was equal at the task. “Whatever happens son? Just remember to put in your best, tables can turn.”
“Hmmm. I will try Mamu. I was wondering if I will be playing my last game tomorrow. Coz if I lose, I don’t think I have it in me to continue the sport.” Karan’s head was hung low. He cleared his throat.
Anyway! Let’s hope I play the Big Final on Sunday.” Karan’s eyes were damp.
“See you Mamu. Love you! Bye.”
Karan zoomed off in his bike.

Raju Mama was still thinking about Karan. He had to do something for his nephew whom he loved so much.
“Raju Sir! So when shall we go meet the producers? “Suresh, a make-up artist spoke as he came out of the washroom.
“I have got an appointment. Let us see.”
“So, you are set to bag the art director role for this movie right”
Yeah! Sort of! Hey listen. Have you heard of Lord Vishnu? “
“Ya obviously, I am a Hindu Saab “
“I heard that he is the PRESERVER”
“YA SAAB”
“Then, I shall be his creator. You do God make ups right.”
“Ya Saab! 100 percent. I have worked in those Ramanand Sagar serials”
“Fine. I want you to create the make-up and I want you in the make-up.” I shall also tell my sister to spike Karan’s Coffee in the night. Now listen very carefully to me. I want you to do exactly as I tell you………. “

THE END

The Special Day

Till date, I have never been timely in meeting my girlfriend. It has lead to battles more collosal than certain civil wars and even a World War. But today was a special day. I could not afford to be late.
It would surely have wicked consequences. However, I woke up to find that I was about an hour late.
It wasn’t difficult visualizing the deadly image of my girl fuming at my punctuality. That resulted in me getting ready in super fast motion. If there was a competition between me and a road runner that day, I would have made mince meat and light work out of it.
I reached her place after hustling and bustling throught the traffic. I had a feeling that most men were late on that day, and were frantically rushing towards their girl’s place. But I was sure that my girl was going to forgive me. She wasn’t the one who would remain moody even after my apology.
I sat close to her, as she slept there peacefully. I was sure that she was mad at me. But her anger wouldn’t last long. She would understand that I was late, not by intention but by accident. For 10 long years, I have greeted her every single day, and on very few occassions have I mistakenly come early.
But today was very special. It is a day where I wanted to tell her how much I love her? How much I care for her? It was a day to express my unconditional love to her.
I took out the bouquet and placed it near her legs. I wanted to wake her up and hug her badly. But I didn’t want to disturb her and make her even more livid.
I just looked at her for 5 long minutes, stood up and moved away. I didn’t want to shed tears and wake her up. The last thing that I wanted is a drop of tear touching her legs.
I walked away, and after moving few metres away from her, glanced back and read the words engraved on her bed.





Jennifer Smith
1972-1999
RIP

I whispered to myself “Happy Valentine’s day sweetheart!. Take care. See you soon”. I would be back tomorrow. Hope I would not be late.