Running with the racket.

My shuttle racket was in good shape though it was 10 yrs after my last smash. I used to play daily and had even won competitions for my club. Well, that was more than a decade ago. Though I had put on around 20 Kg, my rackets still seemed to be in good shape. Reaching the court on that beautiful Saturday, I saw my colleagues full of energy and thrill. As I was not too good with remembering names I went near to most of them and wished [I had just joined the new company]. I hopped around stretching my legs and swinging my arms just to feel confident that I was after all not in bad shape.

I was planning to play doubles and mixed doubles. The advantage was that only 50% of the total effort will be expected from me and I can even pass comments and tips to my team member, just to prove that after all I am the captain. Well as the saying goes - man proposes, God disposes, I was called in to play singles. My diplomatic approach and a short speech on feminism didn’t help in pushing my female team member in. Finally... I had to go in.

Now, there I stood like a pro, trying hard suppressing the panic look on my face. It felt as if the court was growing, may be to double the size. I looked around; my mind kept saying "how did I get myself into this mess?” I remembered my dear wife’s advice while I was getting in to my car "its been ages since you even walked fast, in case you feel like fainting just lie down and don’t wait till you blood pressure overtake you male ego". Well, I did smile back at her sarcastically then [I knew she was school champion in badminton and hockey, while back in Delhi]…

The game started, first few rounds went well except that my opponent was scoring and I was running around like a kid on a beach. Half way thru the game, I felt like the lights have gone dim, I could hardly see the cork though it didn’t make much of a difference. Mr. Sunil, my great opponent got the first game, I was expecting a break but the moron, my opponent was ready to continue. Trying to hide my exhaustion, I managed to negotiate for a break; all I wanted was to get some oxygen into my poor lungs. I dont know who, as I my vision was still not clear, came to me and said "Sunil is an expert in placement". I shook my head in agreement though I hardly understood what that pro had meant. Maybe  my dear opponent was running a consultancy... second round went smooth, my opponent had a smooth victory, my vision was getting worse and some of my very close enemies later told me that the game was wonderful and that I even ran to the court near by and gave a smash. Well... the doubles went ok as my partner was better than me in looks and also the game. That’s it... every muscle, every join was acing for the next few days and I could hardly bent my poor back, one of my friends mistook the condition and even commented that my posture has improved after the game, to which I gave a [painful] smile.

That’s the story, and every story should end with a moral mmmm... lets see… how does this sound: "it’s not whether you win or loose, it how you enjoy and let others enjoy"... sound ok to the story right?

Bomb!!!

This happened back in 2002 when I was still doing my MCA at KVM Engineering College at Cherthala. There were a couple of us travelling every week from Trivandrum to Cherthala on Sunday evenings  by intercity  express. There would always be lot of things to discuss, starting from the new girl who had joined the college to hard core spirituality. During this particular trip, I and my friend, Tinu kurian [name changed as he still has not matured enough not to kill me] were all alone, as most of our friends had spent their week end at the hostel itself, since exams were nearing. Tinu was a short and smart guy, always active and smiling. He was one of the best friends I had in that college, though at times I used to wonder how that happened.

Tinu was then in the state hockey team and he always had lots to tell about how he defended the 6 foot guy in the opposite team and how he scored the winning goal at the very last second of the game. I never used to interrupt or show any signs of disbelief on my face, as it would provoke him to exaggerate more on his already exaggerated story. Stuck along I had no other way than to listen to this hero.  He would show actions on how he held the hockey stick, how he tackled etc and his face would display a book of expressions. I always tried to keep a straight face and not to show the urge to doze off, well; he never cared either as far as I did not walk away.

We had travelled for about an hour when Tinu suggested we go and stand near the entrance, to which I readily agreed. Not because I fancy standing there inviting danger, but then it was a better choice than to hear him narrate his heroic deeds. We walked towards the door when Tinu noticed something. A leather suitcase, left near the toilet door. Well, it looked expensive and we were surprised that the owner was not there looking for it. We made a plan to look for the owner when Tinu stopped like he had been shot at point blank, he looked at me and  asked “sarat did you read today’s news paper?”. I never had the habit of reading every column in the news paper other than the editorial and the cartoon column. As per Tinu, there was news which said about  some bomb threat in Kerala. Well, I could not relate for a second on what he was coming to, but not for long. A flush of chill waved across my body. Tinu tried to remain calm but could not utter anything other than stammering out something that sounded like B-O-M-B!!!. Though little sound came out of his throat, it was loud enough to panic the middle aged buffoon who was standing near him washing his face. He just ran across the compartment crying out that there was a bomb in the train. Thought it did not cause any chain reaction, many were at the verge of panic. People gathered around the suitcase and suggestions like throwing the suitcase out.  No one dared touch the suitcase though. Tinu had a better suggestion to me which was simple and precise “lets jump”, well I never expected any better suggestions from him, but this was way too far and I just held him firm enough so that he would not execute his plan. By that time our train had reached Kollam. As we were about to call in the guards, a slim middle aged gentle man in formal dress walked in worried. He looked around and with a burst of happiness took the suitcase and left. There was a moment of silence before everyone dispersed as if nothing had happened. I knew it was safe now to let go of my dear clever friend.

Tinu did not utter a word till we reached our hostel. While I was settling down in my room, I could hear my dear friends sound from across the hall. As I walked in I could see a group sitting around Tinu, eyes wide open and mouths to match. Tinu had both his hands up in air narrating the whole story dramatically. He described about how he spotted the suitcase, how he was bold and mature enough not to arose panic, how he made clever suggestions over my stupid comments, etc. he even added glory by describing how he opened the suitcase using a pin and how he passed the suitcase to the owner with a line of advice on how to take care of belongings. He went on till I reached near him. He looked at me, stopped his story. I am not sure on what his eyes said, but I guessed it meant “come on my friend don’t spoil the day”. Well I too sat there hearing the rest of the story and nodding in agreement to every pathetic look Tinu gave.