Birthday Blues

I've always detested my own birthday. I hate the feelings it invokes, the questions you are always asked- " How old are you", " What will you do", " Where are you going". and I detest the annual reminder of goals which remain unfilled and promises to myself I didn't keep. I feel powerless. Like I haven't scripted the life I wanted.

But this isn't a sad story. In the last two years I've created opportunities, broken through self-destructive patterns and made tough changes. I'm really proud of myself. Proud that I took responsibility for myself. Proud that I did things even when I was scared. As a result , the last two birthdays have been easier, lighter , funner.

But this birthday was blue. I'm on the brink of new decisions and directions. I feel overwhelmed. I'm petrified of the changes required and sense huge resistance to them. But, this time I have the experience of huge victories behind me. I've stretched myself regularly.

So petrified, though I may be, I don't feel powerless anymore.

Conversation with an old friend

I just had the most disconcerting conversation or perhaps disconcerting isn't the right way to describe it- conversations with this old friend always are. The story is old- we met when we were 16 , were in the same class. He dated - serially. I remained choosy. We became friends. The kind that spoke and heard things in each other that no one else could access. And in college, we went separate ways. And I discovered that I was in love with him. We flirted for a while. And some sense of self preservation kept me from moving forward. I was right. We weren't meant to be. The love and hurt faded. We stopped talking.

Until a phone call a year later. We spoke for three hours. Then a silence for another year. It's been like that for the last five years. One isolated phone call. Long stretches with no contact in between. And when the conversation happens-it carries on for hours. Its never a smooth start. We catch up on the unimaginative get-back-in-touch questions.. who are you dating? , how's work? ..and after that initial clearing of polite debris, we really talk.

Honest, real and out of the ordinary. The existential uncertainties and exploration between old friends. There are no sacred spaces, no hurt or triumph left alone. We talk as I wish people could about the daily despairs and highs of living; about the future and the traps of our idealism. And we continue to see each other as we were then, as if life hadn't changed anything in us. :)

And I sleep, touched by the romance of this interlude. And always with this rose-tinted picture of him, which has little to do with reality and everything to do with this little bubble we created.

But he is in my city for a week and wants to meet. I am reluctant. I wonder if seeing him will spoil the whimsy and anticipation his annual phone call brings. What do you think?

The idea of Tendulkar

Sachin Ramesh Tendulkar. A name that inspires extreme love & worship in a nation obsessed with cricket. Why do we love him so?

He is a symbol of the aspirations of an India before all things Indian became cool. The world saluted his genius and his skill and we, the Indian awaam, felt his victories were ours. His discipline was lauded and it gave us hope that the Indian ethic of daily plugging away at a task was the way to success. Goaded by opponents, given a bloody nose in his first test, after he lost his dad- he stood, looked adversity in the eye and came back stronger. We watched and believed difficulties could be overcome. In a land obsessed with studying hard because degrees are the ticket to a better life, we forgave him the minor misdemeanor of flunking class 10. We adored his mate Kambli and cried his tears when India lost that horrific World cup semifinal against Sri Lanka on a deteriorating Eden Gardens pitch.

The reason we fell in love with Tendulkar was that he was and remains a symbol of India. He has all we pride ourselves on- the steadiness, the perseverance, the dignity and with it a talent, rare, mystic, extraordinary and a beauty that defies definition. And most of all, he has applause.

We are a nation (as recent evidence of the popularity of our economy, yoga and fashion show) that thrives on applause. Some would argue this to be the remanants of our colonial hangover. I think we needed Tendulkar to give us the belief in ourselves we lacked. And he did. Tirelessly. Seemingly effortlessly. And to our gratitude consistently.

This is my ode to the man who has made us all fall irrationally in love with him, and perhaps, just a little bit, with ourselves.