Tuesday, September 7, 2010

What Football Did to Me

The following article is about the instrumental role played by football and Sem(St. Joseph's College) in shaping my life and character.

                                        Mini Football Team 1996

We were two down but this time, surprisingly it was not the same as before - no feeling of remorse or helplessness as the game proceeded. As the final whistle blew, with my head held up high, I yelled 'never mind' to my team and greeted my opponents with a genuine smile.

Being a proficient football player and one of the best in my category in Nainital - my schooling till class ten was in St. Joseph's College, Nainital - I was far too conceited and a big show-off. My short stature was never a problem on the field. I was too aggressive, fearless, intrepid and formidable on the field to care about my height. Bro. J. Murray used to call me a 'Devil on the Field.'

                                   Juvenile 'A' Team, Winners 1996

'Losing' was a word not to be found in my dictionary, of course, I did lose sometimes. The moments after losing any match would be filled with melancholy. It would always be like 'life is so unfair', 'why only me?' The sight of the winners cheering and beaming with gaiety would be unbearable for me, I would turn green. I just could not muster the strength to take it. All hell would break loose if we would be down by a goal or two during any of our matches. I would be yelling to coordinate the game, and scolding and mouthing obscenities at the slightest flaw by any of our team-mates. I would commit mistakes too but would get away without being checked by anyone. Nobody else could.

While playing, I would always be intending to hurt my opponents somehow or the other. My motto would be: if you can't take the ball, take the man. This motive would become more apt and active when we'd be losing. Winning brought me the greatest joy.

By the time I reached class seven I had started writing my diary. Each night prior to writing my diary entry I would introspect and in one such moments I realised that I was left with no friends, in spite of being famous, or infamous, and bringing laurels to my school. I realised that my friends were ebbing away because of my vanity and schoolmates were losing their admiration for my football skills due to my misdemeanour on the playground. I had been trying to gain cheap popularity through delinquencies.

Juvenile 'A' Team, Winners 1995                                   Juvenile 'A' Team, Winners 1995

I was left alone. Loneliness started to haunt me relentlessly. All around me I could feel loneliness engulfing me. It strangulated and suffocated me. I felt a profound sense of being shunned and sadness that permeated everything. Succumbing to loneliness I asked my parents to change my school without citing any appropriate reason for this. Obviously, they didn't take me seriously and I asked to carry on in the same school. The school became so disgusting that I sometimes had a mind to fail in the exams. I was between the devil and the deep sea, not knowing what to do.

How long could I endure this? It was too much. I wanted to change, and desperately. However, I could never figure out how. Those were the times when I thought myself to be the saddest, most unfortunate and lonely person that trod on this earth.

One morning after washing and changing, I stood alone at one of the quite corners of my school. My school being on a hill-top, overlooks a divine scenery. That morning the earth had never seemed so beautiful: cool, clear, with a resplendent sky and an easy breeze. The rays of the sun looked splendid. The Gaula river gushed downhill, and the captivating meanders formed by the winding river could be seen in the plains. The land seemed enchanting and dreamy. It was so amazing that my eyes brimmed with tears. Never ever in the five years spent in St. Joseph's College, had I come upon such an enchanting sight. Incredibly, the beauty of this place had never struck me before. When the bell rang for morning studies, I woke up from my listlessness and walked towards the study hall but this time I felt peace at heart and my legs seemed so light that I could fly.

                                      College Team, Runners-Up 1998

The ensuing night when I was writing my diary I realised that I had experienced joy in its purest form, joy that highly transcended the joy of winning a match and of being surrounded by the well-wishers and congratulated by girls whom I didn't even know.

Henceforth, I would go to that corner every morning. Gradually, I started going there whenever I had free time to sit, lie down, pray, practice singing and sometimes, simply to kill time. The joy of winning a match was surpassed by these simple and demure acts. I found these acts to be rejuvenating and yet, so simple and mundane.

On that day while writing my diary something struck me, I was changing. Losing the match did not give me a helpless feeling any more. I was not perturbed by the results of the match unlike earlier on when my whole evening would be wasted looking back in the match and lamenting my wrong moves and how I could have had scored.

As the days passed by I became more and more modest on the field and elsewhere. Nevertheless, I continued playing with full vigour and vitality. I had the same aggressive approach but now I would never try to hurt my opponents. I realised that I alone did not make a team, instead I was only a part of a team. I stopped using profanity on the field and tried to give a chance to even the weakest guys in my team to make them feel equally involved in the game. Mistakes made by my team mates did not result in me scolding them but an encouragement to try again. No matter what the score, winning or losing did not make a difference. The joy this change brought to me was amazing. What really mattered now was playing whole-heartedly and fair, and with my team-mates as a TEAM.

The board inside our school gymnasium which still reads, 'The most important thing in sports is not winning but taking part. The most important thing in life is not conquering but fighting well,' now made sense to me.

                                      Juvenile Winners' Cup 1995

By and by I felt a renewed energy in me. I became more optimistic. I was concentrating better in my studies and doing well, and miraculously, I found myself with more and more time for my hobbies such as writing songs, writing my diary, collecting stamps and etching those six-packs which I have maintained to this day. It could't get better than this.

All of a sudden my life had turned 180 degrees. Suddenly, I was never alone any more. By now I had created a niche for myself as an all-rounder. My batch-mates respected me and the juniors looked up to me. What could be more satisfying than knowing that there were so many guys wanting to be like me in every way. My best moments were when the tiny-tots of our school used to surround me and innocently marvel at my qualities. Their fascination for my hair which bounced all over my head while running and playing football would touch me immensely. During the holidays, I would be surrounded by juniors asking me how I kicked the ball so hard, what I ate, about my physique, hair, studies. Some would even come with a football and ask me to coach them.

It didn't take me long to acknowledge that they wanted to be like me. This fact gave an impetus to set a good example and influence others in a positive way. I remember when I was a kid, I too had my seniors as my heroes and had been influenced by them, and one of the worst things contracted from then was the word 'f***' and other similar slangs, which I used so casually when I was in class four. I used to think at that time that using these words made you a gentleman, which was utterly wrong. So, the first thing I did was to stop using such words. This is the reason why even to this day, I seldom abuse. I began to value mundane things: family, friends, teachers, sitting with kids. It seemed as if I had never known what vanity was. I realised respect begot respect. I never mocked anyone again.

Almost everyday then, would be a new experience for me, which I would jot down in my diary each night. There were many nights when I had so much to write that after the lights were put out in the dormitories I used to go to the lavatories to be able to write under the lights there.

                                         College 'B' Team 1996

Now-a-days though, I have not been playing regularly but I do miss those days like hell and miss my football boots too. I once in while take out the time to go to my colony's park and play with the children there.

No wonder, the days spent in school are the moments I will cherish forever. Those days in the hostel - home away from home with my friends - laughing together, crying together, studying together, debating that hot topic - girls, quarrels and making-ups, sharing home-made delicacies - are still crystal clear and vivid in my mind, as clear as jet black ink on a white page. Going back to those days make me so nostalgic that sometimes my eyes well up.

Football in St. Joseph's(Sem) taught me a lot and has been a great teacher for which I am very grateful. It made me 'someone' even if I am no one for many. It made me realise my self-esteem. Most importantly, it taught me not to consider what I have got but to dwell upon what I have to give or have given. Another thing it bore in the core of my heart is that the whole world is a team where everyone is incomplete without the other. It gives me a reason, if nothing else, to respect everyone no matter what position they hold in society or how much they earn. It also gives me the strength to do what I love - be it weaving carpets, writing, spinning wool in taaku(distaff) or charkha(spinning wheel), going to Chhangru(my home town) to work in our fields or going swimming in the river two times a day in Darchula - without caring to care what people might say.

                                       College Team, Winners 1997

I learnt to give my best and do things whole-heartedly, and follow my school motto which says, 'CERTA BONUM CERTAMAN' meaning, 'FIGHT THE GOOD FIGHT.'