Childhood- the unparallel time in man’s life!!!

My childhood is full of vivid memories really. Being a bank official’s son I couldn’t complain of not seeing enough places.
I opened my eyes to see this beautiful world first in Bangalore, when my dad was working in Davanagere. What a feeling I wonder now! Sleeping on grandma’s lap with not a care of the world? Are babies really like this … I ask myself wondering sometimes if it was really me that were in the snap with my grandma in front of the cooking stove in the kitchen? Funny it seems remembering the hutch ad which asks people not to click pictures without permission which my dad did. Kids mentality changes with generations I guess, which made me coming from the past generation strike an awesome pose to my dad’s camera rather than throwing his camera away. How I miss my grandma who stayed only some 4 years further.

Some 2 years old and well… I can’t forget making my mom carry me around the whole locality to finish up a small bowl of rice with rasam, helping her gain a few more friends than she would do otherwise. Davanagere to Hubli and pictures of the Lions English School get painted in my head as if I am in a net-meeting with my past. Memories of a silk white kurta-pajama clad with a handkerchief pinned to my dress with hair combed so skillfully by mom as if I were going to some ‘baby show’ rather than to school makes up my kindergarten memoirs. Come 1st standard I remember my tryst with the mixer grinder. That day mom was getting ready with the mix to prepare dosa, and my uncle who had got engaged to his soul mate recently visited us. Guess it must have been to greet them that I pressed the wiper on the mixer, the dosa contents in it the container showered upon the to-be weds as if it were the sacred blessings of elders.

Memories, well they are just so fabulous. It was astonishment, jubilation when my little sister came into the world. It was like growing up all over again watching her grow. We started playing all the pranks we probably could, like putting a wet notebook sheet on mom’s leg when asleep and running away before she could catch hold of me and beat the daylight out of me. Of course being elder comes with a cost to pay, in my case a handful of slaps on my back.
Time passed by and I started feeling old by the time I was in my 2nd. I started thinking how could be people so silly, calling me a kid (Mari) and passing comments like ‘chooooo chweeet’. Thus started my childhood giving me a platform to youth-hood, of which the memories are as sweet if not better. How I wish I will grow to be a person who can take his children out in the world to live at different places, letting the different cultures and people bear indelible experiences on young minds of lovely children.

The angle at 45 degrees

Table Tennis, the fast and furious game to see is no more so tough to learn. I am a fresher to the game of Table Tennis and I found this out after the special TT coaching sessions being provided to us by HP.

Initially I felt “what’s the big deal in hitting the small ping-pong ball on a rectangular table”, but my views took the U turn when I started to hit it and I could not manage to keep the ball either on the table or over the net. Out of every 10 shots of mine more than 7 would hit the net and probably the rest would scrap through the other side. This was a bad conversion rate to a more than average volleyball striker like me. And to go with it I had started playing competitive table tennis in my office. Lo… behold… the hell broke loose for me with my limited skills in TT.

Then came in the multilingual Mr. KrishnaSwamy, as the TT coach on 14th October. I had a gut feeling that it could not have been better timed. The man looks old, but it stops only with his looks as the shots never seem to stop dancing and curving on the TT table. This should be a result of extreme talent I wondered; well it was but not totally as I found out later after chatting to him that here is a man who has represented India and has put in nearly 40 yrs of his good time to the game he loves.

He saw me play and told me that it was a TT bat that I was holding in my hand and not a hand-held fan. He asked me to hold the racket at 45 degrees and start playing with the change. And that day out of my 10 shots…. More than 8 of them couldn’t be picked by the opponents. Now!!! I thought…. Nobody can stop me… from hitting the ball sharply if not making it dance like the way he does. And now I hit the ball sharply… rather should I say briskly, I leave my opponents to tell you that ;-)

It was a win-win situation in the canteen that day. Wondering on hearing about the canteen? Well, that’s where our TT corner is there in Khanija Bhavan and it was raining people. For a change the rush was missing near the snacks vending place at 5pm and had moved to our TT corner. People were waiting on the sidelines waiting to get their chances to play and also showcase their talents to someone who knew the game. Well there were also people who wanted to show-off their skills to the coach. Some succeeded getting his appreciation and others got ignored. Some also thought it wasn’t a good day for them in TT and got back to IT which welcomed them anytime.

Thanks to the coach whose sessions have given me joy in learning another game.... and thanks to our pro-employee company Hewlett-Packard.

Under the helmet in Bangalore!!!

Blogger’s block even before I could start blogging!!! What a start I thought!
But, I had created the much vaunted login in the blogger site, the previous night and thus started thinking of writing … but what?

Thought process, they don’t come in that easily I thought. Thoughts do, but not of the caliber which can make your vocabulary resonate. Thus started my thinking amidst things like argument with a friend the previous night, why I thought I was right, how I would take this ahead, waiting for that all important SMS which never came etc.,
Thus past the night breaking into dawn with the 6’o clock alarm on the cell phone intended to keep up the visionary resolutions of the new year. Thanks to mom on whose insistence 7 became 6 for me and there I went jogging, the healthy ‘cooking oil’ ad which shows people running thinking of their favorite dishes like ‘butter chicken, alu-gobi’ creating traffic jams of thoughts in my mind.

Thus went on the time until 12.30 by when I finished my lunch and got moving to office still thinking about my to-be written blog. Waiting for the signal to turn green at Devegowda petrol bunk started to think about the most happening topic ‘Son [H.D. Kumaraswamy] defies father [H.D. Devegowda]’. Was thinking about how the congress government was going to be toppled by a person who could gel with people whom he thought about as the last people to be approached, in such crisis situations.

Then along came K.R. Road when I started to think about the blog again, when suddenly I came across the place where I had my tryst with the auto-rickshaw and had a broken wrist. Not for long, thinking about this painful phase I came to V.V Puram and group of really smart looking girls and guys from Jain College forcefully took hold of my thought and sight. Gosh!!! Times have really changed I thought after lecturing my sister in the morning on the kind of dress she wore.

Town hall’s vicinity brought in posters of spiritual leaders performing some yagna for the welfare of the Junta. Hmm… Whatever!!! My blog still waiting for a topic! The green light suddenly brought in honking as if there would be no tomorrow. And I moved on towards the next corner to catch three more signals in half a kilometer, biggest one being the Mysore bank circle. Notwithstanding all these signals my mind was continuously looking for things I could write about, simultaneously changing the gear to zip further when all of a sudden my good old friend the auto-rickshaw driver suddenly turned right as if he was mocking Schumacher driving an F1 race, making me hit brakes immediately to avoid any further breakages. We live life on such an edge; it really is a Danger zone I thought simultaneously singing this song from ‘Topgun’. Thus I zipped along the rest of the two miles saying to myself that being a roman in Rome is the best one can do. Reaching Khanija Bhavan I took my favorite 60 degree turn to hit basement two. Parking my bike and removing my helmet gave me a sensation which gave me the impetus to write.
This is typically how a 2-wheeler owner sees his day unfold in Bangalore under the Helmet. Smile is what that comes in writing this in my air-conditioned office.