In a Spot-Fix

NaMo, fellow countrymen, NaMo!

(The background behind me NaMo-ing is in my recent facebook status update)

Disclaimer : The post might tend to hurt a few sentiments. (especially if readers are around that age of early 40s to mid 50s - though I doubt I would have even a decent number of readers in that bracket!) It might even be interpreted as offensive by some of us young men/women but I appeal that it should not be received personally. With all due respect, I have tried to speak what I believe is the truth - unabashed and unashamed to do that as always!

I hadn't anticipated a blog from my side today, to be frank, but a small instance yesterday put me into my 'ponder' mode. I had returned from office when the kids in my housing society were playing cricket. There was the usual banter; there was the usual aggression! Then there were those accusations of not seeing where the ball landed on a wall or a katta or some car's glass windows. Then an old lady shouted from the first floor about some rules of not playing inside residential premises. (which was categorically ignored as a minor disruption!) I smiled, dropped off my bag on my bed and headed out again for some snacks. By the time I came back, cricket was replaced by hide-and-seek and with still some light available, that appeared odd to me. I asked a nearby kid (say Jo) as to why had they stopped playing cricket. He must have been 12 or 13 with a complexion which could have glown in the dark! Slightly rotund with short hair, he answered, "Arey dada, we don't have a bat now that Shantanu has taken away his." I burst into laughter; he reminded me of our days when bat & ball sharing was a no-go because of varied reasons or the squabbles over the same! I told him to collect a bat which had been lying around at my place and he broke into such a broad and beautiful smile that he reminded me, given his features too, of another friend of long (let us call him Zi) who must have been the same age near and about when I had first met him. My laughter suddenly died down; as I turned the key into the lock and walked into my dark home, joy was replaced with pain. Not that Zi is dead; he is in a much worse condition - not according to him, but according to me.

Zi and me used to talk, we used to share; We used to care how the other would feel by our actions but in reality, since the past few years, we have drifted so far apart that we are just aware the other exists. My principles have probably been the reason for that; he has got into all that which I morally detest - tendencies, habits or values which I believe are the root cause of our youth's continued deterioration; no prizes to guess them to be the tripod of incessant disco life, nicotine/alcohol abuse and misguided ideals. As I turned on some tranquil music, my thoughts drifted to another episode a few months back. (or maybe even a year) I had gone to pick up my young, the-then 7-year old, cousin from his organized evening playground sports at a nearby school. I got there a bit early; the trainers/coaches were starting to wind up. They were asking that pool of kids to stop playing, get into line for the anthem etc; but the kid-like chaos continued! They would fall down; they would get back up again! They would find the source of their fall and have a go too! Their hands were muddy; spread across those tiny forearms and palms or on their knees and clothes would be a mixture of my nation's mitti and their own sweat. What will their hands carry in a decade or so? Maybe a pack of cigarettes or a bottle of vodka? Maybe passes to those costly lounges/pubs or god-forbid, maybe even drugs or weapons intended to maim others for personal gains! I hope not!

My thoughts suddenly switched as so often it happens in trailing linkages of thought - 1 word sparking off another topic altogether! I was into cricket now. I put on my jersey and I rooted for my team; I trusted they would play their best and I backed them to the hilt all this time! I loved them; I adored them. I cared for them and I would curse too at times! I would look up in concern when they would fall; praying that it isn't too serious an injury. I would respond when anyone accused them of wrong-doings; I would fight alongside them in times of peril. I would shed tears, I would brave pain and I would challenge destiny itself for the dream we saw together - to lift that trophy with joy! For we knew it will be hard to come by. We bled for it, we died for it and we lived for it; and then I watched from the dugout as we imploded. The team crashed to a heavy defeat. I looked in horror as to what transpired in front of my eyes and as a small tear rolled down my cheek I looked helplessly at my injured arm - if only I could have gone out there and played my team to victory. At the end, the boss walked by and said, "Chill Ma'an! It was fixed." We have all watched our loved ones self-destruct at times just like the recently arrested Rajasthan Royals' players have; and we all know that when something blows up, it leaves behind a crater for others to deal with and for others to fall into.

It has been a common practice these days, especially for elders (to be more precise, the post independence generation born between late 1950s to early 1970s), to comment negatively about the recent events in spot-fixing IPL. There have been calls about bans, suspensions or even complete scrapping of the IPL. 'This is exactly what we had said' is the most common comment; then there are few others as to how this is now a norm among the young cricketers. They also say that how greed for money, power and luxuries has brainwashed 'this generation' and nothing good comes out of the game anymore, it is just good business.

We are an undisciplined lot the elders say; they are not wrong to observe these facts - it is the harsh truth. Along with this harsh truth, there is another which should also be pointed out - where were they when we became undisciplined? Why were they at their offices so late that we never got to talk with them? Why were they earning those extra bucks for a bigger TV or a fridge or a big gift or a great trip abroad when we wanted their time before we wanted the luxuries? Maybe the child in us was fascinated of it at first but the adult deep down in us today realizes how much time is more valuable than any number of luxuries combined. We might not have figured it out then or to a certain degree even now; but when we realize that we can't freely talk about our worst fears or our most dangerous doubts, (even if that involves the opposite sex or failed performances) we truly come to terms as to what relationships have been built. Who taught us that success was earning a great package? Who told us that 'what the society' thinks about our career and life is so much more critical in deciding our future actions? Where did our trust vanish that we had to soothe our pain, not in our mother's embrace but with a smoke of a cigarette? Where did that faith disappear so much so that we had to drown the memories of our failures in a bottle of vodka or a gin or rum instead of our fathers holding us tight at the shoulders and telling us, "It will be fine, my child; do not worry, I am there and we will fight back."? Where were our dreams crushed - under a pile of engineering books we didn't want as we longed for that army or police uniform? Why did we find answers at the wrong places - was it because we were refused the truth at our homes? Why was our inquisitiveness murdered in broad day-light and we were forced onto the same path when there were millions out there which could have been tread upon? Why were we not told tales of our great freedom fighters; why were our idols so cheap that we have no idols anymore rendering us devoid of fearlessness and courage? Why were we not told that this material world is just an illusion, a maya-jaal? Why were we not told to become great citizens first? Doctors or Engineers or Managers later! Why don't we feel for our nation what our forefathers felt back then? Why are we not even bothered about what goes on? It must have been because of care; too much care. That is what I like about love - true love is freedom; over-care and concern tends to bind, tends to over-protect or in crude terms - tends to kill off minds. I think the generation before us were lucky in the aspect that their parents had experienced what it was to be enslaved; they knew the cost of freedom and hence they could pass on that message. Somewhere along the way, we took freedom for granted; we had freedom, now we wanted money! Over-concern of the well-being of our families, and we fixed the entire game of life.

The IPL they criticize witnessed spot-fixing of still smaller proportions compared to the kind of spot-fixing our lives have at their hands, indirectly though it maybe! There is no newfangled creativity, just a set rat-race template of degrees, jobs and married lives! (if one can even call them lives!) Just as my friend Zi nosedived into the canyon, I see this entire generation on the precipice - we can either follow boys like Zi or leap towards the Sun for a new and responsible flight. I snapped back to the present as my warp ended; I switched off the music and thought hard - will I be comfortable 3 decades from now if this coming generation tells me that I stood along and watched how my team lost? Will we all be 'just fine' with it if our kids tell us that there was no future for them to live in because we couldn't prioritize our present? Would we have any right to scold them about alcohol, cigarettes or all the wrong stuff under the sun? I don't want them to tell me that I let our enemy fix our matches because I didn't have the courage to stand up to it. The game is not evil, but our enemy is. Evil is a dynamic, deceitful and dangerous foe - you can't pin it down or isolate it completely. It can't be reasoned with nor can it be destroyed completely; it can be just held at bay. Just like dismantling the IPL will not solve the problem it faces so is the case with our futures; the problem will be solved if we can build good value systems. If our ethical trees are like the Giant Sequoias, then can we dream of living in a country free of corruption; where credit is given where credit is due and meritocracy prevails with honesty, integrity and dedication in work and life.

This post is neither about the IPL nor about our elders; it just uses the current IPL events which elders strongly voice about to put forth an appeal to all the youth mass to not fall where the generation before us has fallen. In true sense, an appeal to realize where they slipped. The chase for money, luxuries and status/recognition in society has led so many of their children astray onto paths where salvation might just get out of reach. That chase was born out of family bonds - to provide better lives to their children which they might not have seen but we have travelled a full-circle from those thoughts. Luxuries are meant to enhance the quality of our life; the word 'enhance' is vital - we can obtain enhancement or betterment only if there is something there in the first place! We might have made our individual lives more comfortable, but we have let go of our value systems and nation as a whole. It is akin to sacrificing the king for a pawn - there is no game after that, it is a checkmate! Irrespective of it sounding pleasing to the ears or not, there is no point in evolution if we can't be more evolved than the generations before us. They slipped at the chase to fall flat to see their sons and daughters indulge in all that we call wrong today! The fork stays true even today, it is just that it leads to different places. There is not an iota of doubt in my mind when I say that the immediate generation before us has been responsible for the plight we find ourselves in today; at the same time, there is absolute conviction that we will be responsible for what Bhaarat will be 3 decades from now. Just as our legendary dada Sourav Ganguly and his able team resurrected Indian Cricket post-Azhar match fixing saga, we have been chosen to resurrect Bhaarat. I don't know who will eventually play the pivotal role that Ganguly did; it might be NaMo, it might be someone else or it might even be someone among us but I do know that as long as true patriots are in that team, the outcomes of our lives won't be fixed again. We can put on those arm braces if need be or bandage it too to support the injured arm - but we at least need to be on that field instead of leaving it to fully-fit spot-fixers; and in the process give ourselves, our posterity, our future, our legacy and our nation a fighting chance.

Jai Hind!