Tag Archives: love

Growing up and losing with Roger Federer…

In 2008, when Roger Federer lost the best and most gargantuanly epic match that a tennis court has had the honour of witnessing, I shut myself in a room for 4 days and questioned what life was about. I even cried for twelve minutes.

Today, exactly six years later, I find myself in a very similar situation, but exhibiting an entirely different reaction.

I’ve been following tennis since 2003.  It was my first love and will always remain fiercely special to me. I would still leave everything I am doing to play, write about, coach and be connected to the sport in a professional aspect. It’s especially hard to see tennis the way I’ve seen it because I was and still am a terrible player. I’ve seen players gifted beyond belief throw their careers away to puff three cigarettes a day or catch those two extra hours of sleep. I’ve felt like shoving their noses in the ground and telling them to understand the value of what they’ve got. That’s where your basic talent comes in. You can’t be taught to see a 200 km/hr serve in slow motion, you either see it or not.

Love for sport, like any kind of love is cruel. It haunts you till you’re forced to break for closure and mocks you while it flirts with someone else. You have to take a call one day and tell yourself you’re never going to make it.

Most kids have an obsession for an atheletes as they grow up. In India, we have a defacto obsession for Tendulkar. It’s there. You don’t need to be told to have it. It’s inborn love. It’s like liking chocolate, everyone around loves the sweetness of it.

Appreciating Federer’s genius was something I learned on my own. It was like appreciating wine, to like an athelete playing a sport that’s entirely alien to the people around you.

I can’t possibly begin to list the reasons why I shamelessly adore Federer’s game, if one can call it that. I’d prefer art, or craft or something that doesn’t sound that mundanely boring. The list of exemplatives that would start from his forehand, the fluid golden whip that it is and end with his movement, that a ballet dancer would look up to in reverance continues to baffle me to date. The fact remains that he was my first real idol, someone who I knew I would never come close to emulating as much as I would like to.

That’s the beauty of supporting an athelete or a club as a kid. They grow with you. You look at their victories or defeats as a personal win or loss. I remember crying like a baby when Federer lost to Nadal in 2008, and I was strangely proud I did. Men cry without shame over sport and war. For me, it was a mark of real atrachement. I had invested everything I had in an individual that would never know of my existence, but would dictate my day to day life so much. I feel sad for people who don’t follow sport, because they will never know what it means to have that nightmarish feeling of your heart pounding at match point for a tournament you have no physical connect with.

Some of my strongest memories are attached to Federer’s matches. I remember lying in tuition class, citing stomach ache to watch him beat Nadal on clay in Hamburg for the first time. I remember my father and I resolving a two week fight by hugging it out after his win over Roddick at Wimbledon. I remember, (and this happens to date) some of my best friends asking me to swear by Federer because they know I’ll never dare to put his life on the line for anything at all. I remember watching him live in Dubai, which remains one of the best experiences I’ve ever had my entire life.

I was broken after the final at Wimbledon then. I was equally gutted after the final today. There’s a difference in outlook though. Back then, I hated the opponent with every small bit of childish rebellion could gather. Today, I respect Djokovic. I acknowledge his presence as the superior player of the day. And I thank him for a being a part of a spectacle I will never forget my entire life.

I think more than the exuberance of the wins, the grace of losing respectfully is a trait that you learn in sport. Because mind you, it takes all the mental strength you have to walk up to your opponent after a five hour match, smile at him and say “Well played”. It’s learning how to lose with someone as invincible as Roger that has been one of the greatest learning experiences of my adult life. He taught me that despite perfection, life can get the darker part of us sometimes, and if it does, we look it straight in the eye and try again, and keep trying again. And again. And again.

A day will come when Federer will retire, and I’ll sit down and think about how it would be to not seeing his familiar brush strokes on TV, and seeing him weave out winners out of then air. But what I will have is a storehouse worth of golden memories.

One day though, I hope I meet his kids. I’ll tell them how their Father made the world dance without music. All he needed was a racquet and a court.

It’s my pleasure to have been a part of the audience while he conduced, for ten straight years. Tonight’s loss wasn’t a negative. It was one of the most beautiful sporting moments of my adult life. I’m happy, and even more fortunate I was alive to see it.





Filed under Sports

“I’ll buy her”

There was a merchant who came home one night with a sad feeling in his heart. He did not understand why he felt that way. He had every small comfort one could want. His house was palatial, with an army of servants ready to cater to his every whim. He had recently found huge success in a trade which would assure him abundant gold for the next many years. He had no health problems, and no vices to routinely distract him.

“Perhaps you should find yourself a woman”, advised his Khizar.

Yes, maybe that was where his unhappiness came from. He had no one to share his bed with. He was told that having a woman in one’s life was a daring experience. One would begin to feel strong emotions of attachment, lust and a queer thing the others called love. No one could really explain him what this love was, but all agreed that the potency of this drug was very strong. The merchant could not wait to try out an intoxicant that did not have any physical form.

Being a rich and powerful man, the merchant organised an auction to find himself a woman he felt would suit him. The most influential middlemen brought along with them a variety of women, each was sure to catch his eye. They were dark and fair, intelligent and witty, slim and full, aromatic and pungent and skilled in an assortment of areas the common man would cringe for.

The merchant narrowed his gaze to three women whose physical shape he found very pleasing. He would decide his pick based on what his astrologer would predict about their future.

“How will we be together?” he asked about the first.

She will guarantee you a full and healthy life ahead. She will seal your fame in society and make sure you reach the heights of glory you were destined to reach. She will bear you three children who will honour your name and be the caring the wife and companion you seek. Besides, she is well gifted in the art of lovemaking, and will round up your every physical desire. You will complete her. But…

“But what?” demanded the Merchant.

She will never keep you happy.

“What about the second”, asked the disheartened merchant.

The second woman is the most beautiful woman in the world. You will be on the plate of envy of every man around for being her other half. Other women will throng to have you as a part of their bed. You will be known as the most recognisable couple for miles and miles around and have your names etched in stone as the most compatible couple around. But…

“But what?” asked the merchant again.

This will all be an illusion. You will never desire her as much as she desires you and more than anything else, she will never keep you happy.

“How about the third?”, the merchant resignedly asked.

The third woman is meant to be your better half. She will not improve your life in any way. She will not stimulate you in anyway. She will always be inscrutably mediocre. She will be cold in bed, and colder to be with after a tiring day. She will not cause any jealousy to any other woman, and will not arouse desire in other man. Her averageness will haunt you. Yet, she will steal your heart for the rest of your life. She will cast a spell on you and make you see the world in a new light. You will feel what love is around her and dote on her. But…

“But what?”, asked the merchant, a final time.

You will never keep her happy…finished the astrologer.

Deep in contemplation, the merchant walked to the auction floor. He walked up to the third woman and smiled…

“I’ll buy her”, he said.
He lived happily ever after.


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