Saturday, March 10, 2012
Krishna
Saw this guy in galleria yesterday. We exchanged a brief glance as I entered Galleria from the back gate.Not sure he was an Indian. Or may be he was. Actually I am sure he wasn't. For he sat there, in the galleria dome, dressed in a casual brown T shirt and bermudas, his flip flops kept in from of him and a paper plate kept to his side in which he may have had bhel. He sat there with his legs crossed and played the flute, a long flute. I am trying very desperately to recollect the music that he played. I know that it was intense and soulful , one that makes you want to stop all that you’re doing and sit them listening to it but just cant recollect it. I went past him, very intrigued and curious, wanting to ask him why he was playing the flute and why there?! As the world went about shopping, he sat there playing the flute. A strange calm on his face. I so wanted to go back and ask him why he was doing that. Why the flute? Why there? Why so peaceful. If only I had..
The third decade
16 July 546PM
30s set in..
I look at the 4 strands of grey often in the mirror.. a sense of achievement as if I had a hand in painting them that way..
And boast too to colleagues around that I have more than one now..
30 is sinking in now.. all the years before this have become surreal now..
Like they never happened.. or happened at the back of the mind somewhere..
‘ This probably will be the most important decade of your life’ someone said..
It will be..
It has to be…
Not that I am missing having left the train.. not that twenties could have counted more than they did.. or may be they could have.. but I don't give a damn..
But the next decade will be a wee bit too late.. know that in my gut..
Ive stopped looking at the boys now..
Doesn't give too much thrill now.. major sign I wd think to have moved to the more important stuff in life..
If it’s here and now.. what do I ought to do..what greatness will be greatness enough..?
Do I look at making good of my talent.. I have it.. but is it good enough..?
Or should I chug along as I am.. for aint I doing well?
Or would greatness be a much wiser me ..a more aware me.. at peace with myself.. with who I am..
This time rouses as much curiosity as it scares..
But I better know where it’s going…so if even it means I am doing nothing..
30s set in..
I look at the 4 strands of grey often in the mirror.. a sense of achievement as if I had a hand in painting them that way..
And boast too to colleagues around that I have more than one now..
30 is sinking in now.. all the years before this have become surreal now..
Like they never happened.. or happened at the back of the mind somewhere..
‘ This probably will be the most important decade of your life’ someone said..
It will be..
It has to be…
Not that I am missing having left the train.. not that twenties could have counted more than they did.. or may be they could have.. but I don't give a damn..
But the next decade will be a wee bit too late.. know that in my gut..
Ive stopped looking at the boys now..
Doesn't give too much thrill now.. major sign I wd think to have moved to the more important stuff in life..
If it’s here and now.. what do I ought to do..what greatness will be greatness enough..?
Do I look at making good of my talent.. I have it.. but is it good enough..?
Or should I chug along as I am.. for aint I doing well?
Or would greatness be a much wiser me ..a more aware me.. at peace with myself.. with who I am..
This time rouses as much curiosity as it scares..
But I better know where it’s going…so if even it means I am doing nothing..
Subin’s ancestral house in Mallapuram
8 Feb, at the threshold of the house, sometime in the early hours of morning
As I write this, sitting on the steps at the threshold of Subin's ancestral house in Mallapuram, life has already come alive here. Tempos, rickshaws, trucks and mopeds screeching across every couple of seconds on the bypass road just in front of our house. I am told, this road did not exist when Subin and his cousins were children and came to Mallapuram on all their summer holidays, invariably.I am on my last day of my visit here, probably even the last hour as we will now quickly pull out our ceremonial outfits, bathe and leave this place in a cab.I'd heard way too many anecdotes from this place from Subin. He loves to reminisce about the past and had taken me through many a story of how he and his cousins would pluck mangoes from the trees and eat them ripe and fresh and how this place had trees till as far as you could see - bananas, pineapples, berries ( eatable and sweet , that I dont know names of), and tamarind and jack fruit and crotons and bougenvillas and the list continues. As I write, I can imagine Vallechan in his eighties, walking around the mangroves talking to the plants , touching their leaves as he walks.Ammama briefly stood looking out of the window yesterday. From her failing memory , plucking scenes of from many many years ago. A regret on her brows on what remains of what had been.The red flooring, now chipping in many places- the wooden roof , solid and yet frayed at places reeks of memories from years gone by. Just too many things here keep taking me to the past and dont allow me to live in today - The huge trees that have now dried up, the small rooms with that lovely musty smell of a life that was locked up in its rooms for years tilll we opened it. The kitchen with the chulha where we stoked fire just to take pictures of a practice we wanted to capture knowing well we will never cook rice that way.As I sit here writing, calm and at ease with myself -i feel the desperation to capture every bit of this past .. this desperation to not let it drift further than what it already has.
As I write this, sitting on the steps at the threshold of Subin's ancestral house in Mallapuram, life has already come alive here. Tempos, rickshaws, trucks and mopeds screeching across every couple of seconds on the bypass road just in front of our house. I am told, this road did not exist when Subin and his cousins were children and came to Mallapuram on all their summer holidays, invariably.I am on my last day of my visit here, probably even the last hour as we will now quickly pull out our ceremonial outfits, bathe and leave this place in a cab.I'd heard way too many anecdotes from this place from Subin. He loves to reminisce about the past and had taken me through many a story of how he and his cousins would pluck mangoes from the trees and eat them ripe and fresh and how this place had trees till as far as you could see - bananas, pineapples, berries ( eatable and sweet , that I dont know names of), and tamarind and jack fruit and crotons and bougenvillas and the list continues. As I write, I can imagine Vallechan in his eighties, walking around the mangroves talking to the plants , touching their leaves as he walks.Ammama briefly stood looking out of the window yesterday. From her failing memory , plucking scenes of from many many years ago. A regret on her brows on what remains of what had been.The red flooring, now chipping in many places- the wooden roof , solid and yet frayed at places reeks of memories from years gone by. Just too many things here keep taking me to the past and dont allow me to live in today - The huge trees that have now dried up, the small rooms with that lovely musty smell of a life that was locked up in its rooms for years tilll we opened it. The kitchen with the chulha where we stoked fire just to take pictures of a practice we wanted to capture knowing well we will never cook rice that way.As I sit here writing, calm and at ease with myself -i feel the desperation to capture every bit of this past .. this desperation to not let it drift further than what it already has.
Sunday, January 15, 2012
The first in my marathon journey...
15 Jan, 2012 642 PM
It's come and gone; The Standard Chartered Mumbai marathon and my first ever half marathon. Like most events, this too, is starting to seem like a memory of a few days back.Random images of this morning flashing across my eyes as I try to sleep. The chill at 5 o clock in the morning, us driving down the reclamation to the holding area, sipping water by the minute till my bladder felt it'll burst... the milling crowd at the holding area.. all in their running gear, the many rounds to the mobile rickety loo and yet some more bottles of water!
It started with the beeping of the starting mat when I looked at my stop watch and ticked it on. My time had begun.I knew i had to run harder than I had done in any of my practice runs- I had to run at a 9.91 kmph vis a vis a 9.7 kmph that i'd run on my best days. So, i started fast. Avani ( who had the same running time as I did) was running with me foraround 10 mins. I kept looking over my back to ensure she was with me, but I think around 2-3 K, when I trned back a couple of times, I didnt see her anymore. I decided then that it was futile to keep pace with her and I decided to head ahead on my own. A couple of meters down, I found another running partner or rather he found me. It was as if he's realised that his pace matched mine and that I had a plan written on my wrist and that he could run along with me. We ran in tandem for about 4 K, criss crossing people ahead of us, clearing crowd ahead and shoving occasionaly ( of course apologising profusely after that!). I thought here was a guy who I could latch on to to complete my entire run. And just then, I was so terribly aware of the searing pain that was rising in my calf muscles and my quads. As dan would say, I had already started to feel that my quads were getting roasted! As I look back, I am not sure my pain was just physical. The fear that was overpowering me after the 6K mark overcame my determination in no time. I stopeed. Just stopped. My running partner looked to his sides to find that I was no longer running with him. He gave a few glances over his shoulders and ran on. I saw him run meters ahead in no time and I saw many hundreds cross me in seconds.I felt I was central to a movie where I am left standing on the edge as this entire blurry sea of people passes me by. At that moment.. i gave up.. for those moments. Pictured myself looking up, crying, throwing my hands down in despair. My legs just wouldnt move and I had already missed out on a few minutes and my legs had almost given up but my mind was not far behind. I decided I had to break my thoughts. I couldn't complete the race this way. Funny thoughts crossed my head too - The whole ofc knew (courtesy Hima's mail that I was doing the HM and I'd felt like a star after reading it) . Moreover, I had already run 21K thrice in my practice runs - Why the fuck should I give up now. I started to walk, cleared my head, had a snicker bar and decided to chuck all plans. I decided to now do it at my own pace . I ran, surprisingly much smoother this time and my head cleared up much more after the 8k mark. I was running my normal race.I have a faint recall of what crossed me as I ran - Haji Ali, Atria Mall, up peddar road. many residents had gathered on either side of the road to cheer mumbai as it ran this morning. Bananas, parle g bisuits, gloucose sachets - they'd bought it all- in crates to hand out to the runners. I loved it and helped my self to a banana and a couple of drinks along the road. Before i realised i'd done 14k and then 16k. I knew that when I hit 18K, i could do the last leg.. Scrape through somehow.
And then I did hit 18k. I could hear junta shouting 'last leg -go for it- push-push'. I wanted to slap all of them then because the last leg is not cake walk- at least wasnt for me this morning.As I hit 18 K, the pain in my quads and calves came back with a vengeance, my head was fuzzy and the sun had started to show up. There were runners with me and ahead of me and I could hear them panting, the sweat drops flying in the air against the sun.. all running in a rythem - thud thud thud thud...I felt my heart beat the same way in my chest.I've never been more aware of it. I couldn't give up now- not at 19K! I willed with everything in me - Rudyard Kipling's -"If you can force your heart and nerve and sinew To serve your turn long after they are gone, And so hold on when there is nothing in you Except the Will which says to them: "Hold on"; - playing through my head more than a couple of times. And I willed with my heart and nerve and senew to take every stride after that. My legs numbed , my back breaking and shoulders hurting, I took the longest strides I had taken in the last hour and a half and ran on the mat at 2 hrs 19 min 56 secs after I started. I had done it..I had finally done it! What I'd so looked forward to, what I'd so prepared for, what hurt so much as I went through had come and gone..I was happy and breathing easy as I staggered and trudged along with the support of the divider on the road towards the medal area. I got my refreshments- what else but parle g biscuits and orange and apple and collapsed on the ground as I waited for Subin to reach the azad maidan. It was taking time to sink in but it did when Alok, who I bumped into, said 'Great job Abhi, your first half marathon under the belt':)
I typed it as I dint want to memory of my first half marathon to fritter away. The next one's going to be about my full marathon:)
It's come and gone; The Standard Chartered Mumbai marathon and my first ever half marathon. Like most events, this too, is starting to seem like a memory of a few days back.Random images of this morning flashing across my eyes as I try to sleep. The chill at 5 o clock in the morning, us driving down the reclamation to the holding area, sipping water by the minute till my bladder felt it'll burst... the milling crowd at the holding area.. all in their running gear, the many rounds to the mobile rickety loo and yet some more bottles of water!
It started with the beeping of the starting mat when I looked at my stop watch and ticked it on. My time had begun.I knew i had to run harder than I had done in any of my practice runs- I had to run at a 9.91 kmph vis a vis a 9.7 kmph that i'd run on my best days. So, i started fast. Avani ( who had the same running time as I did) was running with me foraround 10 mins. I kept looking over my back to ensure she was with me, but I think around 2-3 K, when I trned back a couple of times, I didnt see her anymore. I decided then that it was futile to keep pace with her and I decided to head ahead on my own. A couple of meters down, I found another running partner or rather he found me. It was as if he's realised that his pace matched mine and that I had a plan written on my wrist and that he could run along with me. We ran in tandem for about 4 K, criss crossing people ahead of us, clearing crowd ahead and shoving occasionaly ( of course apologising profusely after that!). I thought here was a guy who I could latch on to to complete my entire run. And just then, I was so terribly aware of the searing pain that was rising in my calf muscles and my quads. As dan would say, I had already started to feel that my quads were getting roasted! As I look back, I am not sure my pain was just physical. The fear that was overpowering me after the 6K mark overcame my determination in no time. I stopeed. Just stopped. My running partner looked to his sides to find that I was no longer running with him. He gave a few glances over his shoulders and ran on. I saw him run meters ahead in no time and I saw many hundreds cross me in seconds.I felt I was central to a movie where I am left standing on the edge as this entire blurry sea of people passes me by. At that moment.. i gave up.. for those moments. Pictured myself looking up, crying, throwing my hands down in despair. My legs just wouldnt move and I had already missed out on a few minutes and my legs had almost given up but my mind was not far behind. I decided I had to break my thoughts. I couldn't complete the race this way. Funny thoughts crossed my head too - The whole ofc knew (courtesy Hima's mail that I was doing the HM and I'd felt like a star after reading it) . Moreover, I had already run 21K thrice in my practice runs - Why the fuck should I give up now. I started to walk, cleared my head, had a snicker bar and decided to chuck all plans. I decided to now do it at my own pace . I ran, surprisingly much smoother this time and my head cleared up much more after the 8k mark. I was running my normal race.I have a faint recall of what crossed me as I ran - Haji Ali, Atria Mall, up peddar road. many residents had gathered on either side of the road to cheer mumbai as it ran this morning. Bananas, parle g bisuits, gloucose sachets - they'd bought it all- in crates to hand out to the runners. I loved it and helped my self to a banana and a couple of drinks along the road. Before i realised i'd done 14k and then 16k. I knew that when I hit 18K, i could do the last leg.. Scrape through somehow.
And then I did hit 18k. I could hear junta shouting 'last leg -go for it- push-push'. I wanted to slap all of them then because the last leg is not cake walk- at least wasnt for me this morning.As I hit 18 K, the pain in my quads and calves came back with a vengeance, my head was fuzzy and the sun had started to show up. There were runners with me and ahead of me and I could hear them panting, the sweat drops flying in the air against the sun.. all running in a rythem - thud thud thud thud...I felt my heart beat the same way in my chest.I've never been more aware of it. I couldn't give up now- not at 19K! I willed with everything in me - Rudyard Kipling's -"If you can force your heart and nerve and sinew To serve your turn long after they are gone, And so hold on when there is nothing in you Except the Will which says to them: "Hold on"; - playing through my head more than a couple of times. And I willed with my heart and nerve and senew to take every stride after that. My legs numbed , my back breaking and shoulders hurting, I took the longest strides I had taken in the last hour and a half and ran on the mat at 2 hrs 19 min 56 secs after I started. I had done it..I had finally done it! What I'd so looked forward to, what I'd so prepared for, what hurt so much as I went through had come and gone..I was happy and breathing easy as I staggered and trudged along with the support of the divider on the road towards the medal area. I got my refreshments- what else but parle g biscuits and orange and apple and collapsed on the ground as I waited for Subin to reach the azad maidan. It was taking time to sink in but it did when Alok, who I bumped into, said 'Great job Abhi, your first half marathon under the belt':)
I typed it as I dint want to memory of my first half marathon to fritter away. The next one's going to be about my full marathon:)
Thursday, December 8, 2011
Dar ke aage jeet hai
10 42 AM , 9 Dec 2010
Ran with the boys yesterday..i could see my long strides. A wee bit too long i think for my to control them.
I gave up in 6 rounds, my heart pounding in my chest.
The boys ran all 10.
I had given up much before I had actually given up. I was competing when all I believed in till then was beating my own benchmarks.Forgot that somewhere on the way.
This morning, I tried a more convenient strategy to beat my benchmark- to do my 10K trial on the tread mill, away from the boys and an autopush machine which will not allow me to give up.
On the way to the gym, however, with a little push from a friend, I decided to hit the road..
My legs hurt, think anaerobic reactions had started in my quads. Will not be an exagerration to say, I was aware of every stride I took. Everyone of them longer than what my body allowed.. my mind was clearly pushing and dint want to give up just yet.
Clocked 1:01:35:08 - my best 10 k trial honestly.
I didnt do too bad..:)
Ran with the boys yesterday..i could see my long strides. A wee bit too long i think for my to control them.
I gave up in 6 rounds, my heart pounding in my chest.
The boys ran all 10.
I had given up much before I had actually given up. I was competing when all I believed in till then was beating my own benchmarks.Forgot that somewhere on the way.
This morning, I tried a more convenient strategy to beat my benchmark- to do my 10K trial on the tread mill, away from the boys and an autopush machine which will not allow me to give up.
On the way to the gym, however, with a little push from a friend, I decided to hit the road..
My legs hurt, think anaerobic reactions had started in my quads. Will not be an exagerration to say, I was aware of every stride I took. Everyone of them longer than what my body allowed.. my mind was clearly pushing and dint want to give up just yet.
Clocked 1:01:35:08 - my best 10 k trial honestly.
I didnt do too bad..:)
Sunday, October 16, 2011
Aeroplane Wings
16 July, 745 PM
The aeroplane wing amidst the thuderstorm skies...
The skies. a staggering melange of colours,
of fire balls and smoke, all intertwined,
merging seamlessly into a blue so still;
A blue so still, that's shattered only by a crack of lightning somewhere!
Good no one lives at this elevation- on this land that engulfs you so deep..
So deep that you lose you sense of space..
I am on the right side of the aeroplane wing..
It aint no fun to be left behind up here...
The aeroplane wing amidst the thuderstorm skies...
The skies. a staggering melange of colours,
of fire balls and smoke, all intertwined,
merging seamlessly into a blue so still;
A blue so still, that's shattered only by a crack of lightning somewhere!
Good no one lives at this elevation- on this land that engulfs you so deep..
So deep that you lose you sense of space..
I am on the right side of the aeroplane wing..
It aint no fun to be left behind up here...
Janshatabdi Express
On the Way to Jamshedpur, 30/9/2011
In the train...
The water on the window leaving trails
through which I see...
The railway tracks run and the electric wires fly
alongside the train..
They will both reach Jamshedpur with me at 945 am....
In the train...
The water on the window leaving trails
through which I see...
The railway tracks run and the electric wires fly
alongside the train..
They will both reach Jamshedpur with me at 945 am....
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