Mid-August y2k. I was in my early 10th; my final year in school. Life seemed akin to a merry-go-round where you stumble upon a point again and again. The point which you disagree upon, which is subtle and unclear. These odds and evens are to be balanced, which provides a path which is not disturbing. Many incidents touches our lives which in one way or other is blurred as I said.
Though my knack in playing basket-ball was minimal when compared to other tall bunch of guys in skool, I did manage to toss the ball into the basket at times. Eyes aimed at right angle part of the shooting square with right balance on foot is what I learned at skool. This proved to be handy. I put my hand to the plow in learning the game. I put it to practice at a basket-ball court near my place. Me and my friends set out to play almost daily after skool. At times it was a solitary play for me. The place I lived was a complete military area. So there were jawans accompanying me in the play as a part of their custom practice. Their physical endurance, tough discipline, courageous built and devotion to duty draws a deep veneration for them.
I chanced upon a jawan who later became a close friend of mine. I was trying for a 3 pointer which I couldn't get it right. His instructions were all that I followed. Dribbling, rebound shots, 2:3 pointers, zero angle shots, reverse throws and many more. He was a perfect 10/10 in it. It had become a daily task for me to come and learn from him. I can go ahead and term him as divine intervention. I came to know that he was a JCO and was posted there recently. He was from Kerala.
I was happy with his company, his talks and his play. Days went by. It was raining one day. I was soaked to the bone. But this couldn't keep me or him away from the game. The earthly aroma rising up into the air filled around. We played for more than 2 hrs. Shortly, I came to know that he has to move. That was a sad moment for me. At one shot you really feel alone when something that makes you comfortable leaves you... I try to puff in more oxygen to make it my way. A way which became blurred. A week later, I caught sight of him. All he could say was that he was posted in Madras. A simple grin was all I could give back. I now feel how heavy was that moment for me.
You cannot roll back the hands of clock and again experience the thrill..It doesn't fit in..Days gone which I cherish. I hope to chance upon him one day...
Though my knack in playing basket-ball was minimal when compared to other tall bunch of guys in skool, I did manage to toss the ball into the basket at times. Eyes aimed at right angle part of the shooting square with right balance on foot is what I learned at skool. This proved to be handy. I put my hand to the plow in learning the game. I put it to practice at a basket-ball court near my place. Me and my friends set out to play almost daily after skool. At times it was a solitary play for me. The place I lived was a complete military area. So there were jawans accompanying me in the play as a part of their custom practice. Their physical endurance, tough discipline, courageous built and devotion to duty draws a deep veneration for them.
I chanced upon a jawan who later became a close friend of mine. I was trying for a 3 pointer which I couldn't get it right. His instructions were all that I followed. Dribbling, rebound shots, 2:3 pointers, zero angle shots, reverse throws and many more. He was a perfect 10/10 in it. It had become a daily task for me to come and learn from him. I can go ahead and term him as divine intervention. I came to know that he was a JCO and was posted there recently. He was from Kerala.
I was happy with his company, his talks and his play. Days went by. It was raining one day. I was soaked to the bone. But this couldn't keep me or him away from the game. The earthly aroma rising up into the air filled around. We played for more than 2 hrs. Shortly, I came to know that he has to move. That was a sad moment for me. At one shot you really feel alone when something that makes you comfortable leaves you... I try to puff in more oxygen to make it my way. A way which became blurred. A week later, I caught sight of him. All he could say was that he was posted in Madras. A simple grin was all I could give back. I now feel how heavy was that moment for me.
You cannot roll back the hands of clock and again experience the thrill..It doesn't fit in..Days gone which I cherish. I hope to chance upon him one day...
3 comments:
nice post
there are some people who leave impression on our minds tht last for a lifetime although u spend only a little time with them.
some beautiful memories
A man lives half his life in doing things and another half in reminiscing about them. I can relate to what u said in this beautiful post. Army people do leave an impression on one. Coming from a military background, I saw things that are unimaginable in civilian society. Had a similar experience. Now that u've reminded me, it'll be the topic of my next post...I hope u don't say it's intellectual plagiarising !!
ha ha
The wheel of time turns, and ages comes and passes, leaving memories behind, which turns into legends, and legend fades into myths, and when the ages that makes them comes again, the myths are forgotten.
The art of letting go is the most difficult of all art. Practice only makes it harder, for the more we let go, the more we feel incomplete. But it only make life more beautiful.
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