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What is it like to have something you have wanted dearly for a very long time? To have it near you, with you, in your possession? Liberating, tempted to say?
Let me give you an angle. When you want something nearly as much as the essential requirements in life for existence, it ceases to be a want. It becomes a need, bordering on an obsession that is strong enough to not only kill your identity but also kill the reasons why you wanted that thing. In some days of living in that anxious need to have the object of desire, you stop wanting it, it becomes a routine, more like breathing to try and have it, for yourself. And what happens when you run out of air, oxygen ceases to reach your brain? You become restless, worse, it consumes you. And anything allowed to be a want of that magnitude does the same- consumes you to the core. You deny, defy and fight a losing battle every day the end of which is your own doom, whether you have the object or not. Even if you do get it, you must see that you have lost sight of the reasons you wanted that in the first place, like an impertinent child that wants a toy and is given it. Needless to say, the child gets bored of the toy and throws it away because his obsession is over. Sadly enough all of us go through a systematic process of denial under guidance, commonly known as growing up, that makes us look through everything that made life simple when we were small.
I do not mean that wanting is bad, or ambition. All of it is good, to the extent up to which it doesn’t start feeding on your very existence and purpose of having it. A need, want, desire in any form is productive to the extent to which it keeps your focus clear and the reasons why you want it apparent, even after you have it. I am no one to conclude or preach, but a victim of the aforementioned errors, on the learning curve.
Remember your first toy? How dear it was to you? Now do you remember how it felt when you had to place it in the closet of old rejected stuff, because you had “grown up”?
Or, remember your first bicycle? Riding it. It was special, right? Because it gave you a sense of achievement. Now that I remind you of it, you have a softly nostalgic remembrance of it?
It is going to be the same. Every Indian who experienced the legend named Sachin Tendulkar will move on, smile, laugh, be normal, unless they see a game of cricket. Then they shall be reminded, of the greatness they saw. With his retirement, the generation of cricketers that made cricket the game it is today has ended.
The man was special, not because of the mound of records he sits upon, not because of the accolades being showered on him, but because of a simple reason. Simpler than most of us can wonder. He gave a billion people a sense of achievement. No matter how sad and gloomy an Indian felt after a particular day, the news of Sachin’s century or another record broken made him identify with the achievement. Sachin did it, for 24 years and did it with a smile. He is possibly at the pinnacle of success and achievement but his strength lies in the fact that on a day when a billions were thanking him for what he had given them, he carried a list of people he credited it all to. Not once, did he say- I deserve it, and that is why he deserved it all.
What remains of cricket therefore for every Indian is the legacy this legend leaves behind. As he made his final walk back, he still raised his bat to thank his family and the audience, something he had always done. What remains for every Indian therefore, is to carry on, with the fond memory of the brilliance they witnessed. It is almost like the feeling of growing up. When you look at that merry go round but cannot go and sit on it because you are too big for something like that. When you cannot eat an ice cream carelessly spoiling your face, because you are too grown up. Its like a rite of passage when there are so many things you have to let go of, because life requires you to move on.
Its like a glorious walk into the sunset, knowing that the day gone by was the most beautiful day you spent, and even though its memories might bring you a tear or two, you should be thankful you experienced it.
Lights, camera, action!
Its only a wonder that all the days in this city don’t start with that line. Understandably so, since nobody can tell when nights ends and when day begins in this city. Its merges into a uniformity through the pacing life of this city. Yes, Mumbai, the financial capital of India, the city of dreams!
What exactly is it that makes this most crowded city of one of the the most populated countries so unique, so loved? Listen closely the next time you are here, and the sea will silently whisper the answer to you. Too romantic, is it?
This city welcomes you with open arms, among a torturous plenitude of faces toiling for a daily share of bread and butter. Yet, this city does not scare, does not threaten, for this is the place which promises the fulfillment of dreams. The larger than life , magical, surrealist world of Bollywood, which has made several dreams a reality is here. Metaphorically, this is the city of dreams. A dreamer has every reason to be in this city. This city gives you the way to become one of the many familiar faces among the crowd, if not, it at least promises you a fair shot at the same. The famous Ambani’s and Bachchan’s or the ever so humble Dabbawallahs, who train MBA graduates all belong to this place, the paradise of dreamers.
After a tiresome day at work, when you feel like a minuscule entity, the sea will come to your rescue. a quiet walk down Marine Drive will show you how little man actually stands in front of the dominating Nature. You will be overwhelmed by the gushing of the ocean which will echo and reverberate the rush of blood inside you. And as the dying sun across the horizon will throw its last crimson rays on you, you will know that the stage is yours and the spotlight my friend is on you.