40

22nd September 2022, Rajiv Gandhi Stadium, Dehradun

It had already been 9 years since he had retired but the stadiums had not forgotten. In Dehradun too, they turned up to watch old aching bodies turn up and for one in particular. Chants of "Sachin, Sachin" reverbated through the stand, no matter who was actually playing. A roar of approval from the boundaries that he patrolled acknowledged with an ever so polite wave. Middle-aged uncles shouting "Maar, beta, maar" delirious in joy and sense of ownership through all the 40 runs that he scored. Some classic shots, some classic poses. Rosier memories for all in attendance would be hard to come by. That India won exactly by the margin of runs he scored added an additional sheen to the evening.

Batterer

12th October 2010, Arambol, Goa

If there is one sound that I associate with the sea even more than those of waves is that of fluttering. Flags, collars and palm fronds all sputtering their own tunes making a walk along the shore an auditory exercise as well as physical. The relentless gusts of air that the material difference between land and liquid sustains speak more of its wildness better than the clash of water and shore. A trip to the ocean correlated mostly to the sun, sand and salt is often inclusive of much battering by the winds.

Static Crush

18th November 2008, Boston

For reasons not very specific, certain objects acquire an importance beyond what mere frequency of encounter should dictate. So too was my association with this weeping willow tree of Boston. The first few times I saw it weeping over a body of water in the Boston Public Garden was when I myself was new to the landscape. An exploratory urge had sent me spiralling from the anonymity of the suburbs into the heart of what is essentially a town sized city. The Public Garden seemed like a reasonable place to start given that I didn't know too much about the city then. 

Then in the future came the escorting trips for family and friends who were visiting Boston. This wasn't New York or Chicago with landmark buildings to show off. Prudential Centre didn't have any sort of iconic ring to it and while views from Top of the Hub were decent, the only people who referred to Boston as any sort of Hub were Bostonians themselves. So it was that we often ended up strolling the Commons and the Public Garden leading to many an encounter with said tree.

Why that specific tree when even within the Public Garden, there were many of the species? I cannot say. But I made it a point to point it out to all who I was showing around emphasising on its 'weeping willow' name for added effect. How many were impressed by this fact-hoisting I do not know, but given the sheer number of photos I have of it through the seasons, that damn tree sure did leave an impression on me. If it had grown tired of seeing me, it gave no indication and as for me, I would still be looking out for it whenever and if I am back in Boston.

Non-Bucket List

13th January 2008, Kalyani

For certain places, there will always remain a special regard. These are not once-in-a-lifetime bucket list destinations or did they provide boast-worthy holiday stories. They are simple places, where familiar faces gathered and wandered in the winter sun. Flowers were announced and commensurately appreciated. The food was warm and soulful, the conversation lined with personalities from within the family itself. No larger world vision, no decay of politics discussions. Generations and geographies brought together by a few dozen kilometres of local travel away from home yet carrying its glow within.

Pirates

1st November 2008, Newport, USA

Everyone loves pirates. That much is clear. That excludes those they may have looted and/or killed. Maybe. Because the outlaw is default cool and forever story worthy. And for a while, rich and influential too. Compared to those killjoy enforcers, grim men with the grim task of compliance, pirates are forever tagged as the fun ones.

Shivers

7th April 2009, Boston, USA

Quite distant from the horrors spatially and chronologically, a quote often read before but now seen carved in stone. If I remembered correctly, it was Ma who brought it up first in one of her history lessons. In the bleak pre-spring of Massachusetts, the quote found expression next to a memorial shaped like stacks, chimney stacks. Involuntary shivers. Both at what had happened and at the fact that we never learnt.

Lost

7th July 2008, Benares

There is a certain joy to being lost in Varanasi. A city older than time allows you to think that you may not be the first to have been so. Disorientation does not lead to dismay here but rather to discovery. Important enough for Gautama Buddha to rush to once he acquired enlightenment. He could not think of a better place to make his first sermon. And that was about 2,500 years ago. I hear that order is the new mandate for its ghats and that laser lights are phasing out lamps. I hope that in the long unbroken sequence of humanity that this inherently mesmerizing city has seen, such ideas are merely a blip on the surface of smooth, well worn wisdom.