That’s true sportsman spirit!
Art
By Rooma Mehra

IT was the age-old adage of "healthy mind in a healthy body" that spurred me on to a new dimension — sports for exercise — in my hitherto sedentary life, led in bent-double posture either over my paintings/sculptures or my writing desk.

The new dimension lies in my inevitable mediocrity in the sports arena, and the new lessons it has unfurled for me by observation of the real masters of the game — badminton in this case — grossly and with infinite consideration deliberately under-using their power potential when playing with or against the obvious amateurs. There is something to be said about "mediocrity", after all it brings one face to face with such excellent examples of human beings!

I have had many a shuttlecock smashed in my face and I am aware that if I toil at the game to the exclusion of everything else that is important to me — which is highly improbable — I will never smash a shuttlecock with the sting of a gunshot, even at a slightly above-average player, because, with my characteristic impatience, I had probably already made my exit from the pearly gates when the commodity called "killerinstinct" was being handed out.

The effort of playing, the exercise and the mind swept clear of cobwebs because of the above two and a good game well enjoyed, is more than worth it... and I delve into my treasure of precious sayings, when the cleared mind threatens to crowd itself with the single thought of "victory".

There are the beautiful words of a preacher, that have helped me immensely in moments such as these — "Don’t pan for gold all the time. That gets tiresome. Just enjoy the visible nuggets..."

And I enjoy myself — trying to keep afloat without trying to win races. Then there is the additional bonus — when one does win a game, the unexpected joy that the victory entails can never be understood by those who win all the time.

Since there is no telling, most of the time, which player is how good, before the game starts, I got inextricably caught the other day, to my dismay, in a game of doubles with two Aces (with a capital "A") the fourth party being my sister — also a vastly superior player of badminton than me.

I realised the calibre of the two unknown players, who partnered with me and my sister respectively, the moment the first stinging shot came at the speed of lightning, hitting my unprepared frozen hand before it landed on the ground.

It was the kindness of my unknown Ace-partner in the game, in applauding my even slightly better than mediocre returns, and his own deliberately reigned-in game against the other Ace and my sister, that instilled in me a fresh new hope about the human race. (Of course, I was only too happy to accept the hearty congratulations on our-victory-inspite-of-me... I get to experience so few of them!)

It was only when I saw my erstwhile partner play singles with one of his equals, comprising mostly the gunshot-smashes and the incredible returns, that I realised the magnanimity of the gesture.

I was not surprised when I recognised in the badminton-player the well-known musician par excellence. The back-bone of sadhana was there for anyone to see.

I returned home with the feeling that such sensitivity could only be expected from an artiste. I was wrong, of course. There were others, too — accomplished players playing deliberately gentle games with children as the little ones learnt to soar higher and higher, gradually imbibing steel, to help them cope in the battlefield they were going to find themselves in as they grew older.

I still play "the game for the game’s sake" — the state of physical fitness and bonhomie earned after the game is the end to the means — the slight but steady improvement in the game and the rare victory or two a natural progression of events and its own reward. Witnessing the games between the top few a pleasure to behold.

The hope germinating from the observation of the interaction between human beings... the truly great undersigning in a chorus — good and bad sportspeople — the gold nuggets that would have certainly gone unnoticed in an obsessive clamour for the gold....