Travelling in Delhi Metro is always a unique experience. Amid all the rush and sweating, one can easily discover the traces of joy. A beautiful girl with her eyes dug on a Sidney Sheldon novel, a romancing couple around the cold steel poles, daily commuters playing Candy crush or watching the Khaleesi of Game of Thrones; there is a gamut of happenings that cannot escape your eyes.
What intrigues me the most is the reaction of children travelling in the metro. Unlike a small-city childhood that I had, these metropolitan children learn the stark reality of competition quite early. Their journey to and fro the school equips them adequately with all that is needed to face this world. Innocence, of course, is a casualty in the process. But then, what comes without a price in a consumerist world!
Recently while travelling in the Metro, a group of kids along with their coach returning from a Karate competition caught my attention. Small kids with ambitions cloud high. Pristine to the core, their eyes exuded positivity. Medals dangling around their neck along with a marigold garland overshadowed their weariness. The coach, who in his hey days would have won many such medals, was smiling with resignation. Unlike the glinty eyed children, his gleamy eyes betrayed his smile. The creases of brown dust on his uniform narrated the story of a failed dream. What really inspired me was the undying human spirit to excel if not directly then vicariously- through his students.
A country, that demeans everything that is worth exaltation, especially in the realm of sports still has foolhardy persons like that coach. Fuelled by the desire to prove his mettle, unlike SRK of Chak De(who earned much more than many sportspersons for portraying their role), he will not rake moolahs from the success of his disciples. The medals are his intangible repository of life. Who knows, he might not even be having a decent accommodation to showcase his talent. Showcase, after all, is an English phenomenon that came up with the concept of the drawing room. Who knows, how did the rural India showcase its laurels before being modernised by the Western intruders!
Japan is nearer than Kerala for us. Why else would Karate be more popular than Kalaripayattu in a country that boasts of a bevy of martial arts in its different regions?
We now have indigenous karate kids, the apostles of globalisation. In fact, it is macho to be Akshay Kumar. All pepped up like Shaolin masters! Who knows we may get our own version of Master Shifu! But, do we really accord the deserved respect to our Master Shifus? Perhaps not.
This must change. Vicarious happiness loses its essence in a consumerist society guided by a fee-based relationship between the coach and disciple. Not all have the temerity to face the sting of failure every day by seeing others win the gold when you are in no position to change the past. What cannot be changed must be endured. Then, up to what limits? The oughts have value when they are manifested in reality in a particular time. Otherwise, what ought to be done always remains ought to be done only.
Quantification guides our lives. Whether it be the success or material acquisition, anything incapable of quantification is worthless. This is the real economy of life. Its principles are universal in essence but varied in implementation. No graph can depict its complexity. Not even the innocent glint of the medals of the indigenous Karate kids.
Allahabad is about to become smart. It shall be getting its own Metro train soon. The only question that strikes me is that would Allahabad Metro also ferry indigenous Karate kids? What about the akhadas that ruled the roost in the days of yore? I hope that Sultans outside the screens will one day grace the Metro with “thodi si dhool meri dharti ki mere watan ki.”
Till then, we have to be satisfied with endeavours that end in the brown dust crease on the white shirt of the Karate coaches. Life is all about being street smart. Our streets have been hijacked by indigenous Karate kids. We no more value children playing with used tyres on our streets. Oh, Allahabad! Would you ever be the same again? Resigned in your stagnation, splendid in your isolation…..
-Prashant
Small City Thinker 