All for the Gold

The sound of drum beats came as a surprise. 

The compartment was pretty empty, about a dozen people or more; a few standing. And even they were a little surprised to hear the drums. When you travel in local trains for a considerable portion of your life (this includes both, First and Second class), sounds of drums usually equates to one very certain possibility: beggars.  

Well, quite certainly, it was a...child? They come in various sizes, you see. But this particular girl, all of 6 or 7 years, was a performer. And, yes, they come in various specializations, too; singers, dancers, performers and other kinds. 

In a swift motion, she somersaulted in the narrow passage-way; forward, then backward again. Then, twisting her arms, almost like she dislocated it (which I think, she probably did), she spun it around the entire length of her little, frail body; like a skipping rope (remember King Louis, from The Jungle Book?). If there weren't people sitting, she'd probably have done a horse bar, or parallel rings type of stunt-thingy, all in the moving train, mind you. Then of course, came the inevitable: alms. 

I honestly felt sorry for her. A girl of her age could probably put our national gymnastics team to shame, with only street-level training. 

And there she was, displaying her skills on a local train, begging for alms; where she could very well be India's next gold medalist. 

In the 1980s, when Mrs Indira Gandhi was the Prime Minister, the Sports Ministry came up with the idea of tapping into these talent pools of street performers, circus gymnasts and the likes. There would be benefits for them, training and, well, better chances for India in international events. It is a known fact that several East European nations, like Romania, enroll their children, particularly girls, into gymnastic schools as soon as they learn walking. The intensive training and hard work pays off; two golds in the Olympics and the family's future is more or less secure. 

Why did this initiative fail in India?

Come now, the answer is pretty darn obvious. The Associated Problems of Bureaucracy. I think it is extremely stupid that the bureaucracy has so much of a say in the field of sports. For one, how on earth can these guys possibly think that they can run the show, in sports? 

Forget transparency and accountability, is it too much to ask for a little decency? 

Knowing these guys, it probably amounts to more than the entire universe. That is why bribes suffice. And that is why only those who can pay them, rise to the visible level in national sporting, only to disappear because of lack of training (and in many cases, talent).

One solution is to privatize the sports sector. This is a possible option, especially after the CWG debacle, and the fact that our present athletes (not sports-persons, like cricketers and hockey players) receive pathetic training, poor allowances and no respect. 

I mean, the government would be only too happy to wash its hands off a responsibility; not that I mean this in negative sense. Skilled athletes would do the nation proud, wouldn't they? 

We, as spectators, would be happy; the young children, like the girl in the train, and their families would be happy, and well off, too. 

As for the bureaucrats, I'm pretty sure they'll find some other victim to fleece. Hm, they should make that into a sport, right? 

Then I'm sure, the gold will indeed be ours...!

Mathematics and Me

"on March 4th:MATH books burn"

This was a status a friend of mine had put up on Facebook, who, (obviously) is about to give her Board exams. 

I commented: "Did that after my 10th Boards...what a wonderful feeling!"

Yes, as you can possibly imagine and deduce, I am not particularly fond of maths. In fact, I have substantial evidence to prove that I am allergic to mathematical calculations. The symptoms include head-aches, body aches, and even memory loss (I tried explaining it to my parents once that, it was my reason for flunking a test; obviously they didn't buy it). 

The point is, there are certain things that come naturally to a student in the course of his or her academic life (or after); subjects that particularly interest them; or, as I like to say, subjects that do not interest them. This is more important than knowing what you like, I mean, at least that's one less potential life-ruining option!

When I was in the third standard, my uncle had a habit of making me learn my tables by heart. Yes, you heard that right, uncle. Even my parents weren't as concerned. No, this is not bad parenting; in fact, this should set a precedent for other parents in the world (you listening?!).

So, there I was, unwilling and as stubborn as a well...reluctant third grader, trying to know by tables by heart...if only to save my skin. 
"What will you do if the shopkeeper cheats you?" he used to ask. "You have to be aware of such things!" Now why would a shopkeeper want to cheat me in the first place? And, if that was to be the case, I could always use a calculator, couldn't I? (Though, at that stage I couldn't operate one. Still...!)
Considering the next instance I'm gonna talk about; I really don't blame my uncle for taking that extra bit of initiative. 

Rewind a year back: second standard. We've just started learning tables, and boy! it seems fun! The first thing I was taught was 2 times 2 is four! Oh, isn't that like 2 plus 2? Ah, then it's all a matter of tilting the sign! I was so intrigued by this exciting new avenue in mathematics (that was a time when I liked maths. Yes, how naïve of me…I was seven years old), and sat admiring this discovery of mine, while the rest of the class moved on to 10 times 10.

I heard the question, and a voice answered from somewhere: “Hundred!”

What an idiot! I stood up, looked at him, almost contemptuously and mockingly and said, loud and proud: “No! 10 times 10 is twenty!”

What more can I say…except that humiliating events such as this traumatize second graders. For life.

It was in the seventh grade that I tasted failure for the first time…in maths; I scored a fifteen on fifty. When a ‘scholarly’ student like me ‘fails’, even teachers get scandalized. My maths teacher was shocked, and genuinely concerned; especially after she saw me smiling. Yes, smiling. 
I think I should add temporary insanity to the list of allergies.

Fortunately, I ended my math ordeal by scoring excellently in my 10^th Boards (after which people wanted me take maths. Weirdos!) Before the 11th admission were announced, I was standing outside college, and happened to hear this gentleman talk to my dad. “Maths is very important, in every aspect of our lives; we cannot live without maths.”

I laughed in my mind. Yeah, right…! That’s why God invented something called the ‘Arts stream’.

Then, a few months later, in economics (which was a compulsory subject. Communists!), we had statistics…a synonym for, you guessed it right, mathematics.

Post-script: I intended to talk about this grandiose plan that me and some friends (others who'd flunked as well) had hatched: to build a time machine, go back in time, and kill the ones responsible for creating maths. The first on our list was Euclid, then was Pythagoras and err, was Archimedes a mathematician? 

Nonetheless, we sat brainstorming and calculated the odds of the mission being a success. Of course, the plan never materialized...we were bad at maths, weren't we?