Guilt and Regrets

“Seven years together. Phew! It’s been a long time, “I said to Pratiksha on our anniversary. And I hugged her tightly. It had indeed been a really long time together. Irrespective of the fact that we became extremely serious about each other four years ago, seven years signified the time that we’ve spent in each other’s company. Lately however, things were not looking good for us.

If a girl cries, it is obvious that she is hurt. What if a guy cries? Do we not say “stop crying like a girl”? It is as if a guy is not meant to be emotional. He’s not meant to be sensitive and certainly isn’t supposed to cry. How does a guy tell someone he’s hurt? If a guy tells his partner, how hurt he is because of something she said, the girl would become upset and the guy would feel guilty for feeling the way he did. Thus begins the endless cycles of apologies, where no matter who’s fault it is, no matter how hurt he is, no matter how angry he feels, in the end he’s the one who’s supposed to let his ego down and apologize to her. I am not generalizing this, this is how I was. This is what I always do because if I don’t, then I turn out to be the insensitive villain who just never accepts his “fault”. If I tried to take a stand by myself, then I end up being a selfish egoistic jerk.

Facing all this for so long, my solution for this now was lying. Hiding things from her that might supposedly hurt her and lead to an argument between us. I loved her too much to see her upset. This is when I realized why a person never shares each and everything with his significant half. It’s not because he has a bad intention in his heart or is doing something wrong, but the simple reason that he just wants to do what his heart says without hurting the other person’s feelings. What I did not understand was how guilt-ridden and hollow it was making me from the inside. I was keeping her happy, not touching on topics that might upset her, but I was suffocating myself by lying so much. I lied to her about going out with my friends, or she’d feel I’m not spending time with her. I lied to her about studying, when I was actually recording my music. I lied to her about spending time at home, just to get some space for myself.

I never doubted that she loved me the most in this world. So much so, that for her I was her world. She and her happiness were a priority for me, but she wasn’t my world alone. I had friends, I had family, and I had to make a career of mine. Being as how I was, I had distributed my time among all the aspects of my life. She never directly asked me to stop doing something and be with her, but she used to get upset to such an extent that she’d say almost anything to hurt me, which in her thought, was to make me realize that I wasn’t prioritizing her. If I spent four days with her consecutively, seeing her every day, she’d be upset on the 5^th day. That’s how important she had made me in her life. I had cancelled my plans so many times, been with her when she needed me but somehow neither of them were enough. I don’t understand love now. What is love? Is spending time with each other the only parameter for the existence of love? If that is the definition, then perhaps I didn’t love her enough. I wanted my own space at times. Peace of mind. To just sit there and not think about anything else. But I guess love makes the individual space vanish. She was comfortable with it. I however, was not at times. The worst part was that I couldn’t even tell her that due to the fear of her becoming upset about it. She’d again over think and reach the conclusion of crying or a break up.

Five years ago, I had asked her if we can become the best friends first and then continue our relationship later. She had cried and asked me what wrong had she done. As a result of me being me, I again cursed myself for hurting her. I would have done anything to prevent that one teardrop falling from her beautiful eyes, even if that meant to put myself into endless guilt. But now, after all these years, when I have grown so attached to her, so habitual of her, she just says, “Let us break up if it’s not working out.” Again, it hurts. It feels I cannot be myself in front of her anymore because that makes her feel that we do not belong together. It makes her forget everything that we’ve been through together since high school. I don’t want to break up with her. I can’t live without her.

And thus began the never-ending conflict inside me between the judgmental me, which said, “You’re the jerk here. She loves you so much. You are not going to find someone ever as good enough as her. It is entirely your fault,” and the logical me, which said, “Be yourself. If she doesn’t like that, maybe you’re not meant to be together. It is not your fault. Don’t be sorry for who you are.”

Either I’ll be in a conflict for my entire life or maybe one day, one of the sides would overpower the other. I just fear if it’s the latter, how guilty and regretful I might feel for not choosing the other side.

Just Hang In There

Remember the guy Scooter from How I Met Your Mother? How was kept in a hang by Lily for a very long time?

I really enjoyed watching the show back then, not realizing what actually feels like to be kept hanging by someone else. It was not until one of my friends went through the same.

You’d always feel and love the connection between Marshall and Lily throughout the show, even when they are away from each other. But nobody cares about Scooter. He was basically there to give us the laughs and create funny situations. I loved that finally in one of the episodes; he’s let off from the “hanging” period by Lily.

My friend was a really sweet guy, Amber. And as is the problem with sweet guys, they never get a girl. He was an introvert himself and there was only once that he proposed a girl to be with him after years of friendship, thinking that there was a possibility of a future with her. The girl, Saloni, however refused and offered just friendship instead. Amber willingly accepted it. He blamed himself and thought that it was his fault that he fell for her. As time went on, my friend started falling for her again and that is when things went downside. Saloni started feeling jealous when he spent more time with the rest of his friends. She started demanding his time in the name of friendship and justified her reasons for doing so by saying that she was possessive about him. After these things, for a girl there is still the possibility that she might not have anything other than friendship in her mind. However, it makes a guy fall deeper for that girl. And that’s exactly what happened with my self-proclaimed introvert friend. We advised him to meet Saloni lesser than he used to do, otherwise he was going to be in the same situation again as he was a few months before. He did that and Saloni started bugging him to talk to her. He finally confessed why he decreased communication with her. Then he asked for a reason, a proper logical reason, as to why she doesn’t want to take their friendship to the next level.

To that Saloni replied by praising him. “You’re the only one that I can trust. I share a lot of stuff with you. You’re really sweet. You’re amazing….” – and a lot of other things which made him the perfect boyfriend ever – “…But I just want you as a friend in my life”. While I was reading these messages that Amber showed me, something occurred to me. I’ve been here before. I’ve encountered these messages before. And I was the one to send them!

Years ago, there used to be a girl in my school. Her name was Smita. She was a real talker and could start off on anything and everything whenever she opened her mouth to speak. She was among those people in a class, who were too pretentious just to make friends as they thought just being themselves wasn’t enough. I was already in a relationship by that time, though I had kept it a secret. A very few people knew about it. She really liked me. She was fair, a little fat but since she would just keep talking about random useless things, it made her irritating at times. I got to know from her friends that she was smitten by me. When you’re young, things like these boost your ego. “Someone likes me. I guess I am special” – that’s what a young guy likes to think.

We talked about stuff, usually nonsense. I ignored and talked to her as an when I wanted to. She’d have done anything that I asked her to do at that time. And thinking that she’ll become a prospect girlfriend for me, she do it. What she didn’t realize at that time was that she deserved someone even better than me. I used to take favors from her such as when I was training for the Sports Meet (read: The Silver Lining), she offered to keep time of my runs during our games periods and try to motivate me. I had an internal conflict, as to whether I should tell her that I was already committed to someone else or not. The judgmental me said that this was morally wrong and I should not be taking any favors from her by letting her believe that there might be a chance of a relationship later on. Telling her the truth meant breaking her heart and I didn’t want to make her sad. So I didn’t tell her (She eventually found out). She proposed me once and I said the exact same lines as Saloni said to Amber above. THE EXACT SAME LINES! I didn’t let her off the hook. She still remained in the delusion that something might happen between us in time. A year later she found out about my relationship status and herself started distancing from me. She didn’t do it immediately, but gradually. Like she turned talking everyday into talking twice a week, then once in two weeks, then once a month and so on.

It’s been more than 3 years now since then and when I read those texts from Saloni, I immediately thought of Smita. She’s working for a big company, a regular blogger and is in a happy relationship with some guy from her college now. We talk at most twice a year, that too on Facebook. I’ve not seen her since an even longer time and just know about what she’s doing through her social network updates. Only I know the extent to which I wanted to apologize to her for being a jerk with her at school. I felt miserable inside. I could equate the feelings of distress between Amber and her. While thinking about not to hurt her, I actually did hurt her a lot passively.

The experience with Smita made me give Amber the best advice I could at that time. I didn’t tell him my story though in a fear of being judged upon it. I asked him to do exactly the same that Smita had done with me. Decrease communication gradually so that Saloni doesn’t realize what he’s actually doing and even her habit to talk to him daily, fades away. He got my point and said that it was probably the best thing he could do rather than falling for her and getting rejected again.

I was happy I could help Amber. I felt terrible when I came back home. I wanted to text Smita badly and text her that I was sorry for whatever happened between us years ago. But it had been almost a year now since I last talked to her. Those memories might’ve been sad memories for her and I thought not to make her think of them again by sending a sorry, just to clear my conscience. I just sat and watched her innocent profile picture wondering how mean and selfish I had been back then. What was her fault? Just that she loved someone and wanted to be with that person? And that’s the reason she got hurt later?

Sometimes our point of view seems right to us and we take decisions accordingly, not knowing that when we perceive them from a broader perspective, they are not right at all.

The Silver Lining

“Aarogya! Aarogya! Aarogya!” chanted the whole team of athletes assembled together on the sports field. Being the host school, almost everyone knew me. But it wasn’t me they were cheering for. It was for Pratiksha, who had just won the Championship Trophy for the Best Athlete in the Inter school athletic meet.  Since we were dating, the crowd hailed my name along with hers, when she was called upon the podium for her award ceremony and photographs with the chief guest. I was smiling, and clapping as hard as I could from the back of the crowd. I was so proud of her. She had been the best athlete in the school since primary and this time she clinched the title by getting gold in Long Jump, 100m, 200m and 4x100m relay. With each flash of the cameras, my hands started slowing down. I stopped clapping and steadily moved out of the crowd and towards the water taps. I, too, had represented the school in the Long Jump and High Jump events. I failed in both of them badly. I got 2 fouls in Long Jump and fell just after a height of 1.42m in High Jump. This had been a nightmare for me, since for the first time I didn’t win even a bronze at the athletic meet.

That was enough to make me sad. But what broke me was the thought that today everybody knows my name because of my girlfriend. It seemed like I didn’t have an individual identity of my own. Now, the logical me said that it was alright, its sports and you can’t win always! The more powerful judgmental me however, made me imagine everybody judging me for being a loser and missing out on the medal for the school. They’ll judge me and mock me, how an established athlete like Pratiksha could date a dud like me. The bare thought of this, was scary. My best friend at that time, Tabish saw me and he became worried. He repeatedly asked me what had happened and I told him everything. He tried to console me but I was just too crestfallen. I washed my face and we went back again. I could see Pratiksha on the field looking for me. “I’ve been looking all over for you”, she said as soon as she saw me. I lied that I needed to use the washroom. I smiled and we stayed there for the rest of the award ceremony before I came home.

That night, I couldn’t sleep since the thought of what I was going to do next kept me awake. I figured out numerous strategies to win the next year and make it up for today. The next couple of days, I repented for not winning and sulked. Months went by. We were in the last year of middle school now after our vacations. This was supposed to be one of the most important levels of the school tenure, as we were supposed to give our CBSE Board Examination this year, after which we could choose our desired streams for high school. I didn’t know what I was going to opt for in high school, but Pratiksha had thought all about it. She was going to switch schools after this year as she was not getting the subjects that she wished to study in our school. I became upset that she’s going to leave and I won’t get to see her every day. I talked about it with Tabish and he said, “Don’t worry man, I know you guys would manage it even after everything.” And then I said something totally out of context, “I have to win the Championship trophy this year man! This is my last chance!” And that’s when I decided the first goal of my life: The Championship Trophy.

The Championship Trophy was given every year to the athletes who accumulate the most points out of all his/her events during the 3-day long athletic meet. There were separate categories for boys and girls. A gold medal was worth 3 points, silver worth 2 and bronze worth one. No athlete could participate in more than 3 individual events. I had dreamt to win it since middle school. But there were some seasoned athletes like Tabish, Hammad, Suhaib and Martin. Tabish and Suhaib had already won it once each while the other two were still hungry for it. When I started competing with them, I found that it was totally impossible for me to even come near their points tally. I had won the relay almost every year with my housemates, but only the individual points determined the Champion. Despite all that, the goal was set and now I had to work towards it. I used to go for my basketball practices in the mornings. I started going an hour early just to run, and build up my stamina. Tabish used to come regularly to boost me up and ran with me. I religiously followed the whole practice schedule for about 2 months before the Athletic Meet this year. The thought, that it would be my last chance to be the Champion along with Pratiksha, was the motivating factor all along.

It was December. Everyone was on the sports field, paying no attention to the cold weather and fog. The environment was full of excitement and enthusiasm. There were different enclosures for the 8 different houses, which consisted of students rallying up to support their athletes. The 3-day fiesta was then declared open by the principal of the school. The sports secretary of the school then read the oath on behalf of all the athletes that they would display sportsmanship and not resort to any kind of unfair means. After that, everyone disassembled and went towards their respective enclosures. It was pretty chilly that day, and we were wearing almost two sweaters. First off we had the march past and the band. I had participated in 400m, 800m, high jump and 4×100 relay. On the first day, I had heats for the relay and 400m.  Our house relay team won the heats by a gap of nearly 50m and qualified for the finals. As far as 400m was concerned, I came first in my group and qualified again for the finals. My confidence was slowly building up. Tabish got injured while running the heats. He had a cramp and he failed to qualify. When I went to him after the race, he just said, “You’re still in the game. I’ll be there for the next two days for you. If you win it, I think I won it.” I smiled. Pratiksha qualified for her 100m and 200m sprints. Day one was over and I got nervous about my High jump and relay finals the next day.

Day two. High jump was first. Aarib, the winner of last year had crossed 1.50m last year. I was nervous but determined to win. The event started and I could hear the gasps of the spectators whenever someone jumped. I cleared the first three jumps easily. So did Aarib. Only we were left after that. We fought for 3 more jumps and in the end, he broke his own record at 1.52m and I lost. Nevertheless, I tasted silver in the event. 2 points! Next came the relay finals, and we dominated the other 5 teams. All four of us ran brilliantly well. As I was the last runner, I could hear the whole crowd applauding loudly for our team. Gold in this one! Day 2 ended and I had already won 2 medals. Pratiksha won her long jump along with getting the bronze in her relay. Both of us were definitely happy, but my goal was yet to be reached.

Day three. The final day of the meet. I had the finals of 400m and 800m today. Since my left ankle sometimes troubled me while running, I had tied a crepe bandage to it. Later on, this ankle proved to be something even worse (read: The MVP). We had our March pasts and band again. As this was the final day, a chief guest was also invited. There were other drills from the primary section and a dance performance too. Now was the time for 400m finals. There was only one strong competitor remaining in this as Tabish was already out, and that was Martin. Martin started athletics only a year back and became prominent in 400m and 800m. He had won silver the previous year at the Inter School Meet too. I had to plan my run for this race. Our school tracks had a circumference of 200m, so two rounds for 400m. The race started. I was at the 5^th position out of 6 till 50m before the 2^nd round. Then I took some big strides and started sprinting. I crossed all the others leaving only me and Martin. This was a hard fought race, as we constantly switched leads in the last 70m of the race. In the end, Martin won by a gap of about half a feet and I lost. Silver this time too. 4 points in total! The Championship Trophy was now out of contention for me. And I just lied down on the ground after the race ended. I breathed heavily and closed my eyes, thinking how I missed gold by just six inches. SIX INCHES! That made all the difference. Martin was lifted up by his housemates, while I just lied there. I watched Pratiksha run the 100m and 200m. She won in both. 3 gold medals and there she was, the undisputed winner of the girl’s championship trophy. I hugged and congratulated her. She tried to talk to me, but I just tried to avoid her fearing that all this would haunt me like the previous year again(The judgmental me clearly overpowering my logical side on this one). I watched the boys’ 100m and 200m while sitting at the center of the field.

Just then, something occurred to my mind. Hammad and Suhaib alternately won the 100 and 200 sprints. That meant they got 5 points each(1 gold, 1 silver) and I knew that they only participated in two events. In my mind, I started calculating the points of each athlete who won at different events. These two were the ones with most points. I had 4 and still one race to go, the 800m. Even if I get a bronze in this, I’ll share the trophy with them. If I get something above that, I’ll be the sole champion among the boys. There was hope and it was all I needed. There were 15 more runners with me for the 800m. Four rounds of the track and I’d be the champion along with Pratiksha. Martin had somehow withdrawn from this race because of reasons only known to him. This made my chances even better.

I stood there at the starting line, my heart pounding so hard and my legs trembling. I could see all my housemates, friends and Pratiksha but right now all I cared was, the sound of the clapper in the hands of Mr. Guru, our sports teacher. ON YOUR MARKS! SET! *clap* and the race began just like that. I knew I had enough stamina; I just had to use my speed tactically. I could see about 10 runners ahead me, but that didn’t prompt me to run faster and take a lead. I spent the first round at 10^th position. I could hear the applauses of teachers and others for the front runners in the race. I still kept cool, breathing properly while running. Breathing in from the nose, and out from the mouth! I had to save my energy. As we came towards the end of the 2^nd round, I took some big strides and got ahead of 3 of the runners. 7^th now! I again ran steadily, maintaining a recoverable gap from the leader, Jolly. As the 3^rd round was coming to an end I took strides again and gained on another 3 of the runners. 4^th now! This was the last round, and I had to recover all the distance. I started sprinting as if my life depended on it. I did not realize that the gap between me and Jolly was now almost a good long 90m. Pratiksha and Tabish’s voices were the most distinguished among those few who were cheering me. That boosted me up. I ran to cover the gap. Later on I was told that I ran so fast that the ones who were ahead me, didn’t even realize that I had passed them. And there I was 2^nd. 50m left to cover for Jolly and I was almost 25m behind him. I ran as hard as I could, with all the energy left. I got shoulder to shoulder with him and then something happened. My crepe bandage opened up, due to which I lost a split second. And I lost the race, by a margin of a couple of milliseconds. I fell down there after that, recovering my breath. There it was. Another silver. 6 total points! My friends gave me some water, and lifted me up. Jolly was lying a few feet away from me and was confused why I was getting all the attention when I lost the race.

Like always, at the end of the whole day, all the houses sat in groups during the awards ceremony. I was called up for all the medals and then again something happened. I realized life is not always gonna be how you imagine it. There are going to be twists and turns. And that makes life worth living. Now, what happened was, that Hammad and Suhaib were announced as the joint champions of this tournament during the ceremony! My heart sank again. I went up to the teacher-in-charge and asked her to reevaluate my points. I had 6 and they had 5. There had been a mistake and the faculty realized it a couple of minutes later, when Mr. Guru announced that I was the real champion of the year among boys. There was a huge applause and chanting of “Aarogya! Aarogya! Aarogya!” I received it from the Chief Guest and came back to my crowd. The chorus of my name, which sounded humiliating till the previous year, was now music to my ears. It seemed that my reevaluation changed everything. My house, which had already won Best Marching Squad, won the Relay Shield and subsequently the Sports Cup as well.

Being the one to have made all the difference satisfied the judgmental me and saved me from the blame of not winning gold in any of the events. I was ecstatic to win it alongside Pratiksha. We were proud of one another. As it turned out, my individuality was not dependent on anyone else but me. I made my destiny myself. Who could have thought that someone could be the Champion after losing in all the 3 events that he participated in? Oddly enough, that was the last year when the Championship trophies were given to the best athletes as after that, it was scrapped and only medals were given to the athletes. I had just become the last “Champion” of my school.

Had I not been blamed by judgmental me a year before, I wouldn’t have been where I was that day. I’d still have won a couple of medals without even the considering the possibility that I could be the Champion. For once, the judgmental me was responsible for my happiness as this time I had no regrets. I felt so satisfied that I didn’t search for reasons to be upset about anything.

For once, after a long time, I was neither the logical nor the judgmental part of me. I was just…me…!

I Am Invincible

“And the winner is…” I heard distinctly and then the next few words were suppressed by the applause and shouts of the people. I was watching myself in the mirror and wondering how could I do the same mistake two times in a row. All the practice sessions were wasted and everything was lost just because of me. I knew no one’s gonna blame me for that but me, since I am my worst critic myself. I washed my face and came out of the washroom, collected our gear and headed up for the school bus.

This was the second straight year since I came to “The Cloud Burst” at BVN. Last year my voice cracked on one of the higher notes of “I Want It That Way” by The Backstreet Boys and this year, the cracking was repeated in “With Me” by Sum 41. Both the times, our band, Pratishodh, lost because of my failing to hit the higher notes. There seemed to be a jinx with BVN. I went for other competitions too, but my voice never failed to hit all the high notes. Lost in my train of thought, I barely replied to the others while they were talking and enjoying, as if nothing happened. I knew if I spoke much, I would eventually breakdown and I didn’t want to do that. Even when I reached home, I didn’t talk much and instantly went to bed.
The worst thing about being a judgmental bastard like me is that no one, including myself is spared from the judgments of my mind. I myself was the victim almost every time I made a mistake. And subconsciously, I used to punish myself for doing it and in a weird sense, also motivating myself to do better next time. I am often harsh on myself, and after repeating my mistake the second time this year, I just lied there on the bed thinking what the others might be thinking of me. That I talk a lot but am worth nothing? That I am a loser? That they should start searching for a new lead singer?

Music was something that I loved to be a part of. I was mostly a western singer and I never learnt Indian classical singing. I was actually a pianist. I used to take the Trinity College Of London’s piano exams every year. When we initially decided to form a band at school, we needed a singer and everyone liked the texture, accent and tone of my voice. So I became the lead singer of the band. My band mates were the typical high school music enthusiasts. They were influenced by hard rock and metal genres of music, purely because they saw that the people, who played them, were the one who came up as the winners. I was not really their type of a vocalist, but they had to do with me, since there was no better alternative. A logical part of me said that maybe my voice croaked because it’s not meant to sing the songs that I sang today. It’s not meant to sing those heavy metal songs. But then the judgmental me came up, and scolded the logical me for making excuses. The next year was going to be my last in school. I had to pull up my socks and win something this time, otherwise, in my mind, I’ll be the villain forever.

There was a particular marking scheme followed by the judges at any event that we participated in. And from experience, we figured out that extra marks were given if an original composition (OC) was performed. I used to write OCs and we performed them at the Commonwealth Games 2010 as guest performances in the Games Village too. So I picked up my pen two weeks before the next Cloud Burst and penned down an OC, which was meant to be a soft melodic song. But then again, the metal-heads of the band turned me down and asked me to write something that was either hard rock or metal. I sat with Sagar, the lead guitarist (a really talented guy) and we composed the whole song in about two days. I wrote another song, a hard rock one this time and we started practicing again. It was titled “I Am Invincible”. There was a particular part in the song, where my voice was again susceptible to crack and I found a solution for that. The other vocalist of our group, Rishi, had a tenor voice. So we figured out places where he could growl in the song to give it a more hard rock-ish feeling. I thought even if my voice cracked, we’ll have a backup to hide it. Sagar prepared some really classy guitar solos and Aniket, the drummer, put a really good beat to it.

We were all set. The doomsday came and just like the previous two years, my throat felt bad on the competition day. I had a cup of tea. Then I had another cup of tea. Still there was no relief and I was convinced that this time too, my voice is going to crack midway and we’ll be straight out of the competition. As we were watching others perform, our confidence increased since we were comparable to others this time. One of the vocalists even showed off on stage when his guitar solo came in, which was pathetic as compared to Sagar’s. We went up, took 2 minutes for sound check, and then started off. We had a tremendous start. Since this was a much pumped up hard rock OC, the whole auditorium just shouted their lungs off for us. Midway, just before Sagar’s solo, I found the vocalist(above mentioned) sitting right in front of me. I was in full confidence and I shouted to him, “Lets see who is the better guitarist now!” That led to a blank surprising stare from his side and another burst of applause from the audience. After the solo, came the susceptible part. Throughout my performance till now, this part was the only thing going inside my head. I took my breath in and sang. CREEK! My voice broke down again , though Rishi put in his growl at that instant. The judgmental me was staring at me. folding his arms and shaking his head. I had failed myself again. However, I continued till the end of the song and we ended up receiving a big applause from the audience.

 

 

We sat back in our places and I put my head down in my hands. Sagar asked me, “What happened man?” To which I could only reply, “I am sorry I let you guys down again.”

He calmly replied, “Oh you’re talking about your voice crack? It probably got hidden behind Rishi’s growl.” It seemed no one really judged me as much as myself. But his words were like hope to me. I just hoped that it wasn’t as audible as I initially thought it’d had been. I thought even if we didn’t come 1^st , at least we’d get a consolation prize from there.

The results came in. The consolation prize winners were announced. My heartbeat started racing, maybe we’d get the 2^nd runner ups. The 2^nd runner ups were announced and we weren’t there either. I lost hope and again sank my head into my hands letting out a groan of disappointment. I knew it was all my fault, that everyone else had to lose the third straight year. I was definitely going to bow out as a failure in my own eyes. “The 1^st runner ups are…. PRATISHODH” As we heard the first syllable of the name of our band, we threw back our chairs in excitement as we stood up and ran towards the stage. I still couldn’t believe it. We got our medals, had our photographs clicked with the judges and Mr. Khanna, our music teacher. Those weren’t silver medals; they were more than gold medals to us. My voice croaked and we still won. We won it as a band, where we were judged on our complete performance and not just one note of the lead vocalist. Till this time, I don’t even remember who won that year. None of us do. But I passed out of school with satisfaction. The losing jinx of BVN finally ended.

I was praised for composing the OC by everyone there, including my band mates, even though they put in more efforts than me. If Rishi’s growl, Sagar’s guitar solo or Aniket’s tight beats had been not there, maybe we’d have lost again. I realized it wasn’t just me, who was responsible for everything. I committed the same mistake three years in a row and we won the third time despite that. Maybe combined teamwork was all that we required for winning.

The judgmental me, however, held me solely responsible for the losses of the previous years.

The MVP

Class 12, the last year of school. I had been an all rounder all my life. Academics, oration, extempore, quizzes, debates, athletics, basketball, music, I was everywhere. That earned me the prestigious badge of the School Captain in my final year. I loved being the most popular guy at school. However, there were still some things that I needed to achieve before graduating.

  It was July and the time for the Zonal basketball championship. In my whole 7 years of basketball career, the closest, was to be the 1st runner ups in the championship way back in class 8. In Delhi, the ladder was to win in Zonal, then go for Inter-zonal, then state and ultimately the nationals. I couldn’t even climb the first step of that ladder in all those 7 years. This year was my last chance to get to anywhere near playing at a big level. I’ll be honest, I never considered myself to be the best player in the Zonal group, but I was there among the good ones, a little known No.14 from my school. There were other players in the zone, who were way better than me. I had my moments of magic, but somehow no one seemed to notice them. I used to get overshadowed since I started playing the game. My coach didn’t really put in any effort in me, because there was one other guy who was just a couple of inches taller than me, named Amish. He and I joined at the same time, were exactly same as far as our skills were concerned but he, just being a little taller took all the attention from me. I was not even the too short; I was a good 6 feet tall. He was taught every aspect of the game, the post game, shooting, defense, whereas I was just supposed to pass him. Nobody ever trusted me to do anything. I learnt by watching my seniors play or other professional matches on the television. I scored 20+ many times in different games, but still my coach never even said that I played well, whereas if this guy scored one bucket, he was hailed like he was God. Nobody cared if I even existed in the team if he was playing. Long story short, I became jealous of him since he stole my limelight.   He switched schools in class 11, that left only one experienced player on the team, and that was me. All my seniors had graduated from school and there was no decent player left in the lineup. We won the first match in class 11 but lost the 2nd one since I was being double teamed by the opponents throughout the game. So this time, I really, desperately wanted to win and to get recognized, at least in my zone.

I was on the court at 7 a.m. for the whole year, pleading others to come to the practices. Most of them did not. I did the best I could with the two or three people who came sometimes. I bought new sneakers. I was all geared up for this year and I had to do it this year.   I used to go for the Delhi state trials every year, but never got selected for it. Initially, I sucked, but then in the later years I used to have good trials. When I had a good trial, either the selectors ignored me, or chose a taller player to me or worse, selected an over-age player. I never understood this logic. They select an over-age player, and later on he gets banned after the medical checkup which confirms that he is overage. However, still year after year, they always selected overage players, get their teams disqualified, and then lose the national tournaments. Some players got through the trials through nepotism. They didn’t even know how to dribble the ball, and they were in the state team. That’s how basketball functions in Delhi. Skills do not matter if you’ve a good height, a muscular build, a certificate indicating your false age or some contacts among the selection committee.

The fixtures were prepared. First match, against the zonal winners of last year, on their home court. Shucks! The first match itself was going to be difficult, I presumed. Every year the zonal matches were held in Blue Bells International, but this time they were in K.R. Mangalam since the BBI court was under repairs. “Defending champions against us, I didn’t see that coming at all. With my team, they would knock us out in the first match itself.” – That should’ve been the normal, logical me thinking. This year however, what I thought was totally opposite -” I think this is my chance to prove my worth. The logical me said – “Dude you’re just being stupid!”

Anyways, so the match day approached. We were in white. The atmosphere there was a little scary. The whole court was surrounded by KRM students, supporting their team loudly. Every time, in the last 7 years, whenever I entered the court for a match, my legs used to shake and I was always a little nervous. Not this time. I confidently entered the court this time, determined to win this game.KRM were in red. They won the jump ball and quickly scored two buckets in a row. For this game I had thought that if we’ll ever be down by three buckets, I’ll drive-in and try to score, or at least get a foul out of them. However, I scored the next basket and went back to defense. They shot from behind the arc, and I couldn’t have even imagined what would have happened next. The shot missed, I jumped for the rebound, got a push from one of the other rebounders and fell on my left foot. My ankle twisted and I instantly was on the floor.

My left foot had been troubling me sometimes, but this time it was so worse that I couldn’t do anything other than closing my eyes and holding on to it tightly, lying down on the court. The next thing I heard was the referee’s whistle and people approaching me. The ref for this match was the BBI coach, who ran towards me and asked if I was fine. I couldn’t speak anything, just laid there in my agony. They helped me get up, my teammates and the ref, and took me over to my bench after lifting me a little since I couldn’t even keep my foot on the ground. I lied down on the bench and was still writhing in pain. My coach called for a spray and icepack. Such bad was my fortune the latter was not available at that time. I don’t know why, I just removed my shoe to see if it was a fracture, for which I was scolded simultaneously by me coach and referee later. I never had a fracture in life, so judging by the little knowledge I had about them, I concluded it was not a fracture and quickly wore my shoe again after applying spray to the ankle. By that time, the first quarter ended. The score was 10-4. We were losing. When my teammates came over to the bench, I guided them what they should do along with the coach. For those 2 minutes in between the quarters, I totally forgot about my ankle and suggested ways to score and defend.

The 2nd quarter started, and like the first, KRM dominated us. It all happened in front of my eyes and I could do nothing else than shout at my teammates and applause when they did something right. The “right” part wasn’t enough since we were losing, badly. I was just sitting out there thinking, that like all those years, this time also I am just a nobody after all. I thought of all the matches that I’d played and was feeling miserable to end my school career like this, by just sitting out. By this time the spray had almost numbed the pain in the ankle. The 2nd quarter ended with the score being 24-13. We were trailing by 11 points. I asked my coach to let me play. She gave me a stern look and shook her head. I pleaded her to let me play, this was my last year, and this is all I’ve got. She again shook her head. I pretended that pain was less now, and I was feeling better. And that I wouldn’t run much on the court, just shoot. There was a tear in my eye while I said all those words. The desperation to play was totally visible. She looked at me and said, “Dekh kya raha hai, ja phir aur dhang se khelio(Don’t stare at me like that. Go and play safe)!” I went to the table limping, to ask for substitution. I smiled.   The next whistle and I was in. The whole KRM crowd, the other teams waiting for their matches, the referees and even the other team, everyone was shocked to see me enter the court like that. I was trying not to limp; otherwise I’d be called off, again. The BBI referee swapped glances between me and my coach, and asked me, “Tu pakka khel paega?(You sure you can play?)” “Yes, sir”, I replied with confidence. From the thought of winning the game, it all came down to just playing the best I can right now. The ref looked at me and whistled resuming the game.   I told my teammates to pass me the ball as soon as they see me free on the court. Initially I was not guarded well, I received the ball and shot it, it went straight down to the hoop. Their coach shouted, “Usko halke mein mat le agar uske lagi hai to, khel raha hai woh tumhare sath abhi(Don’t take him easy if he’s injured, he’s still there on the court)!” And so his boys responded and guarded more closely. I limped and walked around the court during the transitions from offense to defense. I wasn’t able to do much on the defensive side, apart from the rebounding sometimes. Later on, I started getting heated up, and even blocked two shots of theirs. I could hear the “OHHH”s from the KRM crowd. By this time, one of my other coaches, Mukesh sir, who was in our school for a year, also joined my bench. He was now the Head of Department of Sports at Apeejay, Sheikh Sarai. He also in his time coached Amish and improved his game to a whole different level, while I, was just another player. There were times when only I, Amish and he were on the court for practices braving rains and cold. But still he thought that I never had enough potential as that of my teammate. He taught me only one thing and I became a master of it in the subsequent years and that was, a proper shooting action.

Emotions were high on my side. I could see nothing but the basketball and the hoop. IN! IN! IN! And I brought the score to 28-32 at the end of the 3rd quarter. I could listen to people praising me in their murmurs, but right now none of it really mattered. Now I wanted to win this game. By this time my ankle hurt like hell whenever I put even a little pressure on it, but I ignored it and went on. For the first time in my life, my coach Nair ma’am and Mukesh sir, both said, “Bhot hi badhiya khel raha hai, ankle ko bachake khelio (You’re playing too good, just make sure you don’t hurt your ankle more).”   The last quarter started, and as I entered the court, I could listen to people cheering my name, people whom I did not know, people who were from the home team’s school. I felt elated inside, but my job wasn’t done yet. I went in for a speedy layup and got a foul with it. The pain burst up again, it had overpowered the spray. I went to the free throw line and converted the one free throw. As it went in, the crowd shouted and went crazy. 32-31. From the 11 point deficit, I brought the game to just 1 point. This was one of those days where no matter from where I shoot, I had a lucky touch and it went inside the hoop. A time-out was called by the home team. Their coach scolded them, but I could feel that he had respect for me by the way he was saying, “Tumse achha to woh langda khel raha hai, aise khela jata hai(That limp’s playing better than you guys, thats how it’s played). Now just go in there and win this thing.” After the free throw, the pain was just too much for me. I reminded myself that I can’t let that affect me until the game is over. I started passing more and assisted one of the shots. I again scored a basket. One of my teammates converted the free throws he got from contact. There was one minute left and the score was 35-32. I had to keep this lead in any way possible. The other team was tired, probably didn’t practice much like my team. I had to take advantage of this. We guarded the best as possible. They took a 3-pointer and all of us held our breath for a second. It missed! I grabbed the rebound and ran as much as I could. The defender caught on to me but I beat him and jumped at the last moment. He went ahead and I took all my time to shoot. SNAP! It went in again. The crowd went crazy. I never had such a crowd supporting me like this. This time even the opponent coach smiled at me while I was returning back for defense. And there it was. The whistle blew. We won the game 37-32. What a game it was!

I limped back to my bench, then we shook hands with the referee, he smiled at me, and our opponents and each of them said “Great game.”  This BBI referee, Subhash sir, later became my coach when I joined his academy. KRM’s coach patted me on my back and said, “Well done my boy!” I came back to my bench. Mahesh sir hugged me tightly and said, “Dekhle bete, yeh fark hai tujh mein aur baaki logon mein. Chahe jitni sardi ho, baarish ho, tu hamesha practice pe hamesha aata tha, yeh nateeja hai us sab ka (See son, this is the difference between you and the others. You came to practice no matter what. This is the result of it).” My teammates hugged me and I started moving towards the washroom. I was about to witness one of the best moments of my life. There were KRM students and other school players who were waiting for their matches in front of me. They made way for me to walk, by parting on either side and shaking hands with me and clapping. It was like I was Moses and I was parting the Red Sea. Coincidently, KRM were also in red. Finally, defeated the defending champions, on their home court, in front of their own crowd! That was some feeling right there! I would’ve almost cried, but I controlled. I thought I had finally earned some respect for myself, like I was the Most Valuable Player (MVP). Then we headed back to our bus. Everyone was happy and I was just wishing that the time slows down there, letting me enjoy every single moment to the best. The first game of the season – a win.

All this time, no one, including me remembered that I had got injured in the game. I forgot that half an hour ago I was in agony. I was just enjoying the moment. I was one step closer to being the zonal champions. But that was not supposed to be. As soon as I got off the bus, there it was the pain again. And this time it was so much that I couldn’t walk. I had to be carried home by two of my friends in an auto. I couldn’t walk properly for the next 4 months. I had a plaster on my foot and it was confirmed after the MRI scan that I had a ligament rupture, which was not going to heal any sooner, since I made it worse by entering the court and playing again even after getting injured. I got to know all this in the week after. I couldn’t play the next match, and my team lost it by totally getting dominated by their opponents Pinnacle. I felt bad as my heroics couldn’t take the team further.

A week later, I limped my way to the Sports room from my class, just to see my coach and sports teacher Mr. Guru. We talked for sometime about my foot and then Mr. Guru said, “Phone aaya tha, tujhe inter-zonals aur state ke liye bula rahe the. Par maine mana kardiya tere paer ki wajah se (I got a call, the other coaches were calling you for inter-zonals and the state. But I had to refuse because of your foot).” I smiled because I did not have anything at all to reply.I walked back to my classroom. Throughout that little walking trip, I thought after all these years of hard work, dedication, they decided to identify my talent when I was not able to do anything for the next four months.

When I was active, they just ignored me. Respect and recognition were the two things that I always craved for. I was happy to get at least the respect. For a day only, but I did earn it. I never regret the decision to enter the court again and play despite being in pain. Maybe one day I’ll get the recognition as well!