As I take some more strides in
50s, I guess the life has taken a full circle. Till the age of 16, my life was
all about sports. I never actually excelled in any of them. But then, if one
had to consider just enthusiasm for the same, I might probably rank right up
there.
Like many in their teens, I was
oblivious of the talent of the others, I just thought it was a matter of being
spotted whilst playing and I will make it to the Mumbai Team. Well, forget
Mumbai, I did not make it beyond Division E in Kanga. I made it to the first eleven mainly because
the Captain liked to throw his weight around and I was the only player with
whom he could.
I find it strange that people of
my age actually think sports or any physical activities are behind them and
their indulgence is limited to watching and giving their sports wisdom with
full gusto.
I can now afford a branded pair of shoes,
tennis racquet or any accessories and feel totally convinced that I fit the
bill. But then, what I think is what
matters and I am totally unmindful of the chuckle as I walk past guys of my age
potbellied ( more than mine J),
with a fag in hand thinking the world is meant for taking a pot shot at others.
Come to think of it, just the other day,
I hit an ace not because the other player could not run towards the net to
reach the ball. It was actually fast enough.
Till my late 20s, the Swimming
Pool was something I could see only in movies. It was associated with ‘western
ladies’ in ridiculous glares and polka dotted swim suits. Only stinking rich
business men and their sidekicks hang around to get bashed up or get killed in
the pool for the mystery to get solved by our hero.
It is a nice feeling to get into
pool now. I splash around manage to reach the other end of the pool, filling
all the void I used to feel those days watching extras and villains in their
ill fitted swim suits. Actually, more
than the swimming, I always wanted to recline and read a novel by the pool
side.
Now, of course, all proper gear
in place, swim glares, head cap ( more to cover the greys). Very careful to
check when the pool is without any kids who just keep doing lap after laps much
to my dismay. My best time is when I am out of the pool, hair disarray, getting
in dry cloth but body wet enough for all to know I was in the pool.
So what was my passion in till
15, which I lost it in between is coming back in big way in my 50s.
I am not complaining nor am I
taking a deep breath to tuck in my tummy which still is a pot of concern. Next
year this time, it will not be there, I mean that ghastly extra flab.
