ALMS for Adrenaline

Petit Le Mans @ Road Atlanta

I thought I'd put this on paper before the assignments blank it out of memory. On the contrary, I don think today will be ever forgotten. American Le Mans alias Super-car galore is a euphemism for the magnitude of this event. For any automotive enthusiast, the sights and sounds of the Road Atlanta circuit would have chilled the spine and elevated his spirit into a realm of appreciation of the beauty and art. 

To be honest, this was my first ever super-car race experience. The likes of Ferrari, Porsche, BMW, Chevrolet ( in short, the best in the business) pitted against each other and the jaw-droppingly quick Le-Mans Prototype cars forming another category, yet racing on the same track for 10 gruesome, adrenaline filled hours, was an experience that ain't gonna fade with memory.

The free-flow exhausts sent shock waves as flew by on the straights. The maneuvering was simply flawless. All of the 50 odd cars zipping past the stands I was seated in embodied consistency in terms of the racing line they maintained. There was the odd one who ran out of space to make the overtaking and ran into the gravel, and the very rare crash which deemed the vehicle out of the race. The excitement never ceased nor subsided.

The vendors village and the exquisite car parks was the cherry on the cake. The opportunity to get up close and personal with the dream machines was half a dream come true. The other half obviously being owning one or more of these beasts. The freebies were a bonus. The overall experience in itself was an outlandish yet greed inducing. 

A fearsome and seductive method of capturing one's imagination, inspire the young blood to fathom the impossible, and an addictive genre of sport that breeds and magnifies the daredevil lurking deep within.

A trip to remember, cherish and boast about. 

Sachin "THE GOD" Tendulkar

How fair would it be to write a blog and not have written about the GOD. Unfair? Doesnt really matter? Blasphemy is more like it. With an experience comparable to my age I guess apotheosizing him is still a little short of the respect he deserves.

There's never a place in the world that will chill your spine, make your hair stand on its ends and give you goosebumps like a stadium where sachin is weilding his willow. 70000 people chant one name in unison. Giving it magical powers to shoulder the hopes and dreams of a billion more people. So much so that the name induces fear in the opposition. A swing of the bat and the cracking noise it produces when it meets the ball is followed by an uproar from the crowds, enough to make even the toughest and best, tremble to catch the ball. Such is the magnitude of impact of one name, "Sachin."

The journey from child prodigy to the master has been but enthralling. Everytime he padded up, a nation came to grinding halt. If the Almighty had the luxury of emails and sms, he would have probably been petrified by the mass number of prayers he recieved to keep this batsman at the crease. And the curses recieved when the batsman had to leave, even more so if it was a bad decision. I'm pretty sure that if the Almighty incarnated himself on earth, he'd wish he'd never come to earth, each time that Sachin got out.

The 90's was when the Sachin phenomenon proliferated. The Indian cricket scene, lets face it, was a one-man-show those days. Mr. Dravid and Mr. Ganguly did play their parts. But never as profound as the little master. Teams have openly declared, they did not lose to India, they have lost to a man called Tendulkar. And to glorify him further, a signboard outside a stadium read, "Commit your crimes when Sachin is playing. For when he is batting, even God is watching."

An Indian who is more Indian than any Indian, only second to those who serve and protect the nation, by which I mean the Armed forces and not hypocitical, senile politicians. So what if Sachin says "..But I'm an Indian.." The maharashtrian bloke must have been out of his mind to drag Sachin into politics to gain a few political miles. Screw him and his ideals. Infact, screw all those morons who run this gerontocracy called India. Anyways, getting back, if you mess with Sachin, you mess with 1 billion people.

So here's to many more milestones that will come and go in this glorious career of his. May he be the first man to achieve a lot more and set ungettable benchmarks that will be looked up at for centuries to come. Sachin "THE GOD" Tendulkar. Amen.

The Man in the Mirror

Droplets of water trickled down his cheeks. Another splash of water on his face and a spray of water flew of his lips. He stood up to full length and stared into the figure. A fairly good-looking, six foot something bloke looked back into his eyes. They moved with his in tandem, like foxtrot, and neither blinked. They stared into each others hazel brown eyes and read through it, their thoughts, their minds.
The handsome bloke though was more successful. He could read through the minds of people by mere pupil dilations. And this man was a sitter. The calm facade could not fool him. He could see a tormented mind, with its walls of will being broken down by storm of the past. A fortress being threatened by the war, one that should have ended ages ago. And yet, the King sat there with his hands crossed, waiting in belief. A blind faith that the Gods above descend from the cerebral heavens and fight this losing war for him. Ignorance, fear and trepidation had taken over the King and made him a recluse. The armies of his mind had taken a beating but they never waned. They knew the secrets to victory but were powerless with a confounded emperor. The picture seemed so vivid that the bloke could see the flaws and its remedies. But then, what could he have said to make a difference?

Alive

Elation. An ecstatic feeling within myself, when i was on my two feet again. Burts of pain were seering through my muscles, but it was worth it. More than a month of immobililty had made the ambulatory feeling even more special. A month spent in musing over a plethora of thoughts that sometimes did not make any sense at all. Thoughts which traumatized my mind and body alike. Thousands of agonizing moments had gone by, as i sat everyday like a piece of meat. My routine each day would involve waking up around noon, having breakfast in bed and dally the rest of the hours that i was awake.

I forced myself out of bed and into the shower. The list of work i had piled up for myself exceeded the horizons of the mind. Unwillingly, i carried forward with my day. Put on clothes that reached my hand. Picked up my helmet and trudged towards the bike. The bird was gleaming in the sunshine. The only thing that made me smile that day. A gentle push of a button and the bird woke up. Like a majestic eagle spreading its wings, signalling its arrival to the world. Only this bird did not screech like an eagle, it roared like thunder.

Capricious. The first steps were wobbly, unstable and painful. It was a relief nonetheless. The ankle was intact and fit enough to bolster me. A little disfigured and partly pied in appearnce, it was functioning. Slowly i got around walkin a lot more with the help of my walker. I retrospected the month that had gone by. What i did in those days. What i learnt. Why had i come to such a state? It all seemed to form the solution of a conundrum. A puzzle that was ineffable. A new sense of assurance accompanied by a morbid fear was instilled in me.

A warm zephyr blew through my helmet. In the city of the Chennai, the temperature did not vary much in the course of a year. And that day was no exception. I waited at the signal, wiping the sweat off my brow every minute. My eyes burned from the heat wave and the exhaustion caused by poker exploits of the previous night that concluded a few hours before dawn. It wasn't a disastrous game as i had expected it to be. After all, i was playing poker after a brief hiatus. I closed my game a few bucks up. Any gain was better than a loss. I had slept only for what seemed like ten minutes. A very disturbed sleep. I had too many things in mind. Work, play, plans for the moment, for the near future etc. It was a cavalcade of my P.O.A. in my head. The responsibilities i had to shoulder were at that moment, pressurising me. Pushing me beyond my limits.

Pungent. The smell of the hospital, the syringes, the medicines and most of all, being in a state of contrived solitude. All of it had some reason behind it. What was the cause? I wondered. And then those moments came back.

The signal turned green. I was heading heading to a friend's place to complete some of the daunting tasks that were listed in mental calender. 40 kilometers an hour, steady as military tank, the bird glided through traffic. And then it happened. An innova to my left swerved right into my path. I jammed the brakes to avoid being hit. Unfortunately, the balance tipped and gravity took over. At that moment, I relived the thoughts, my best friend from college, Hari had gone through. I knew I was falling under a bus. I knew the magnitude of the accident was not something that could be done away with easily. My life flashed past me at that instant. I thought it was the end. Half expecting to experience a crushing force. I heard the noise, but felt nothing. And by the time i realized, it was over. Miracle. The bus had nearly missed me by a foot. Althought it did go over my bike. The bird was a contorted piece of metal. Shards of glass from its light strewn across the road. While i lay on the road, gripping on to my helmet for dear life. I was alive.

Enduring idleness

Torture. The simplest way to describe the past one month. Being unable to move around at all, killed me on one side and a powerful breed of lethargy was created. Well there wasn't much i could do. But as the cliched saying goes, "Everything happens for good." I guess there was something good in the outcome of the accident.

1. "I realised the value of the limbs given by God. I came to a conclusion to not take things for granted." I would be a charlatan if i claimed that. The past one month I've had a a colossal amount of time by myself. To cerebrate on the lessons that i was to understand from the mishap. Nothing occured to me. For those of you who don't know the story. This is what happened. I was riding my bike down a main road, innova to my left and a bus to my right. I had nearly over taken the bus when the Innova swerved into my lane without warning. I like sandwiches but i don't like to be in one. So i braked hard to escape being jammed between the two massive machines. But twas a tad bit too hard and too late. I skid. All I remember was a blink later i found myself on the ground with both my legs looking slightly odd. A drunk yet good Samaritan rushed me to a hospital which i asked him to take me to. And the rest is history. I assayed all this over and over in my head. But i couldn't seem to find an appropriate explanation for the whole darn thing. The only conclusion was that life was capricious.

2."It's good to be the King." - It had its own positives and negatives. The two sides of every coin. I had almost everyone working for me. I couldn't have done it without them. So hats off to them before i go about blowing my trumpet. I had everything being offered to me. Since i couldn't move around with as much ease, i was being showered with attention. Friends, family and everyone. But what would be the spice in life if not for a few people who did the carping, although with good intentions. It ain't like things would change by me accepting their censures. Nevertheless, i just heard them out, belabor about how i would have been rash as it is the standard for my age. I just kept walking, figuratively.

3."It was apropos." - The only reason i felt so was because i could prepare for my GRE. And i've made progress. Slow but progress nonetheless. Not that i had a choice. One cannot spend many hours online or watching sitcoms or sleeping. Eventually i opened the books and burnished my vocabulare a bit. I did catch up on quite a few movies i hadn't seen. And they were awesome.

4."Family Discussions" - A whole lotta revelation and learning. From and about people. I learnt a lot studying the systematic lives led by my uncle, aunt and sister. I had a lot more time to sit and chat with them, make my bonds stronger. Cos i wasn't running around as usual. So i talked. My uncle being an orator had an annecdote for everything under the sun. Some were banal, some were just plain pointless. But one that caught my atention was titled "Shark in your life."

Japanese are "fish-etarians." They eat and catch a lot more fish than the amount of facial hair that grows in their lifetime. Sushi is their elixir or the equivalent in terms of solids. They fished far and wide for the best of catches. Since they went far and wide. The fish was old and sometimes stale at meal times. So they fishing industry devised a plan to keep the fish fresh. The fishermen would catch and store the fish in water, and so would the shop keepers etc. But the foodies still felt something missing. The fish tasted bovine, they said. So another amendment - the fish that were caught would be stored in a tank with a few small sharks. So they would be constantly on the run for their lives. And voila, the japanese loved it. Why? Cos the fish had adrenaline in it. Being on the run always and being able to survive had pumped a lot of adrenaline into its system and that was what made it tastier. So, "What's the Shark in your life?"

The Glass Roof

Breaking my head over what I want to write about. I realised, I was hitting a glass roof every time i thought about this. Yes it's a cliche. But nonetheless, eminent. I could not think of anything. Mind was blank. I spaced out every time i thought of stringing towards to make sentences that made sense and made an impact. Spark plugs, engines, adrenalin, eyes popping out, metal music, head banging, beer bash. This is a gist of the words that run through my head while i think. Most of the time its fast cars and dreaming about being a race car driver. Surely not formula 1 though. I would never fit inside that cockpit. I always dream and only dream. I fail to realise them and get my ass moving. Out of the blue, i would be enthusiastic to do things. To take myself to the level beyond. To elevate my senses and skills. But I'd end up at a dead end or hit a GLASS ROOF!

I've been on this quest for nearly three years now. I realise i have realised my flaws. The mistakes i do. My pros's and con's. But the solution is ever evading. Or to put it simply i guess my biggest problem is I'm very lazy.

Don't you think so?

p.s.: if you have suggestions to improve my current situation, do share it.

Confessions of an Idle mind

The clock shows 2330 hours. I had a filling dinner and was waiting for the match to start. Yes, a football match on tv. A sport that I had started watching in the past year. Very engrossing. The sport that a majority of the world followed. The sport which had made legends out of mere men. Heroes out of boys with a passion for it. That which had seen many highs and lows. From half line goals to brawls on the field and massacres in the stands. It had everything in it.
Back to where i was. Awaiting the kick off for the most hyped match of the year. Barcelona versus Manchester United, Champions league finals. I believe it doesn't get better than this. Now I'm not a ManU fan. I am prejudiced against them. I don't know why. Which is probably why I term it a prejudice. But I have to say they are a formidable team. I respect the game they play and how they play it. There are the parts of their game i despise. But lets just keep this diplomatic. Every coin has two sides.
So, square one. I'm waiting for the match to begin. There's 45 mins remaining before the players come on to the field and shake hands in the spirit of the game. 45 minutes where my mind was idle. Nothing struck me. Absolutely nothing. I like to say "Absolutely Nothing" in the British accent. Fascinates me, their accent. Feels like the perfect way to speak English. The stiff upper lip and the pompous tone. Reminds me of Russel Peters' imitation of an Englishman. I wonder what will go through my head when i actually meet an Englishman or even worse go to England. Rude yes, but I might burst out laughing on their faces.
Revert to the living room. ME on the couch, remote in hand. TV is on and the ads are going on. Vodafone's ZOOZOO's appear. Not the most fascinating creatures. Nor are they cuddly or cute. Annoying things in white and grey. The only thing that makes these ads bearable is the concept of portraying the services in certain ads. Commendable performance by Ogilvy n Mather. That s the advertising company for Vodafone. Even the pug, and "Happy to Help" was by them. Those were ads that made heads turn, that etched itself in your memory. Everytime you see a pug, you are gonna think about Vodafone formerly known as Hutch. Isnt that a brilliant strategy?!
Deviating too much aren't I? The screen turns red and the next ad starts. The build up to the match resumes. 4 "experts" are discussing and debating the outcome of the classic encounter. Predictions begin from starting line-ups, to who will score, how many injuries and gibberish. I think to myself, "Do I really care about what these people have to say?" I think to myself, how these four grown men are debating like kids, trying to prove their superiority over the other or to show the world they have the superpower of precognition, can do it without feeling even a little dumb?! Maybe the big bucks they get shadows their sense of, I don't kno, SELF RESPECT?!
Back to where i left it. The build up ends and the match is about to begin. Graver confessions in part 2.
PEACE.