by Sharique on July 18, 2008
by Sharique on July 17, 2008
by Sharique on April 20, 2008
Its a strange feeling inside my belly, i think i have grown old. I have put a lot of weight since i left college last year but it hasn’t even been 1 year and I have now become ‘uncle’ ! Eve though no one has referred to me by this attribute, I fear that this notion of mine might soon become a reality.
I have never played tennis in my entire life so far and the very idea of playing on a clay court made be feel like what Nadal would have felt seeing clay for the first time in his life. I had this strange feeling that I can excel in tennis and its just a matter of chance/opportunity.
My friend’s friend had the other racquet so we planned to play cricket while waiting for him as we had the (tennis) balls. His friend came soon and thus moment finally came, the moment which would have given this world a new Sania Mirza. The court was a mitti (also known as ‘clay’ in English) court. I used my racquet to hit the ball on ground a few time and then I finally tossed it up ( Few must have casted eager glances on the way I was warming up for the serve). As I wanted an ace on the very first serve of my life, I hit the ball with all the energy I could gather. The ball fell on the ground, missing the swing of the racquet completely.
“Its the damn spects! My eyes just lost sight of the ball”. I remove my glasses.
The second swing of the racquet did hit the ball. I then focus my attention on my opponents for the return but they, including few onlookers, were looking to my left. Actually the ball flew to my left and landed in the swimming pool. I then decided to only ‘square cut’ and ‘straight hit’ the ball, instead of cuts and hooks. My heart was broken. I was finding it difficult to keep the ball on ground. All my shots were flying past spectators like a bullet. I was loosing all hopes of becoming a pro. I was losing my confidence. Perhaps my age is the only factor on my side, I can still practice and become proficient with the game. I then heard a faint voice-
“Uncle. Ball please”. I kept concentrating on my play. The voice grew louder.
“The ball is on your right, uncle”. To my utter surprise, the voice was referring to me! When did I graduate to this ‘uncle’ thingie??!! With heavy heart, I returned the ball. Interestingly the voice was of a girl who was attracting everyone’s attention on the mitti court. I then decided to leave for home as there was no point in trying to make fool of oneself in every possible way.
I think i have grown old now.
BTW, I am SERIOUSLY missing the right click on my new MacBook.
by Sharique on January 11, 2008
I know it has been a long hiatus for me but just cannot escape the job pressure. I promise to be back shortly.
by Sharique on October 25, 2007
These coal carriers carry coal, on their bicycles, up the hill to sell. This meager income doesn’t justify the effort required in this physically exhausting task. They operate in the areas near to the coal mines of Dhanbad, they are mostly stolen or collected coal. Poverty forces these men to take up this daunting task of carrying the coal sacks on their bicycles. A sack of coal would typically sell for Rs. 200 so this means a maximum income of 1000 per trip ( you expect more than 5 sacks, huh?), which is very lucrative considering the level of poverty in Jharkhand!
Sorry for the poor quality of the video. I didn’t stop and shoot because I think it would have been contemptuous and disparaging for the hard workers so I tried to shoot without making it obvious, after all its a profession and you need to respect someone’s profession.