Jump jump!

A  few years ago … and I have blogged about this… I used to teach Jispa elocution and then she nominated herself into a singing competition. She thought, it would be simple, dad will teach me. Of course she did not even qualify, with me as her teacher.  This time it was sports day! Her school is actually quite a small school. In sense – that there are only two divisions in her standard – so that 60 kids per year and that too is divided into girls and boys. So in a sports day competition – there is hardly any competition. At best you have to beat 120 girls as the age groups span two years. For sports within girls that a dumb ass number. That is no number. Three fourths in any case don’t know how to run or jump. And from the remaining there will hardly be anyone who does serious training.

So this time Jispa had to choose her track and field events. Go for the long jump and the high jump. I told her. She had no clue what a high jump was. She was wondering how they would judge who jumps the highest. She thought it was like how you jump while standing up, jumping high. Haha. Jispa is so underexposed at times. But I explained how it’s done and left it at that. Yesterday morning I come to know that the trials were on for that day. Ok. How do you explain what to do to jump high? First, one had to explain how high jump actually works. So while going to school in the car, I just simply got her to switch on youtube and search for high jump. There… now you understood. Now she understood what high jump really was. Then I told her that that will not work as that Olympic technique of jumping from your back is next to impossible without serious…. Really serious training. So I told her to search or the straddle style for high jump. She searched for it and understood. I said that’s the way you do it. She got it and then in the evening I got the message that she got a bronze. It was a stupid thing in the end. I had told her a few things that I thought were technique – don’t jump of two legs (I don’t think that’s allowed) and approach the jump from an angle. I told her to throw her upper body when she jumps. I had no clue what advise I was giving her, but it seemed to make sense for me. She then told me that she got the hang of it after a few jumps. They kept raising the bar; till one girl cleared the bar and the other three were left trying. At the end – all three trying for the second and third place couldn’t clear so when it was close to finishing time, the sir just declared from whatever he saw – one girl as the silver medalist and Jispa as the bronze medalist. Whatever. So great. Youtube meets Jispa meets Bronze. That too with Jispa being the youngest amongst them all.

But what I found most interesting is that I pulled out the word straddle style from some deep corner of my memory. I remember reading about this if I am not mistaken in a book we had at home when I was Jispa’s age. It was the Guinness book of world records, in which there was a mention of the high jump record with a photo of one guy with a caption that said, that he was the guy who jumped the highest with the older straddle style of jumping. After 30 years, I came to use that little bit of information to help my daughter do well.

You should always read and it’s doesn’t matter what you remember – you never know what is going to come your way. What is it that you will retain and use and at which time. I used a word after 30 years and it helped explain and mean something to someone I love. What more can you ask for?

So what exactly is straddle style?

And If I had the time I would have possibly discussed this link with her in detail. That would have been fun. Key thing I missed – get your other leg high… but hell. There is only so much you can do with swimming taking away all the time we have.

sportsman's prayer

Saturday was a red letter day in Jispa’s life. Last week she came in dancing from school. She had learnt that she was the school placard bearer leading the march past at the sports day. That’s pretty cool. She would march in before everybody else, including the school flag bearer. Then she would lead the school into the oath. She would speak the oath and the school would repeat it after her. It was big freaking deal. It was a BFD for her and for us as well.

I asked her if she really wanted to be IT. yup sure she said. She recollected that when she was in the lower Kg a girl had taken eth oath and she thought it was dam cool. She had forgotten about it but when she learnt that she was IT then she was super excited. She got it possibly thanks to her consistent performances in the swimming pool and on the track and field events. She’s pretty athletic. Possibly the oath bit is also thanks in part to the fact that she excels in elocution.

I remember wanting to be IT. I wanted to be the guy giving the oath in school. I remember once it was administered by my brother’s friend. His name was Stephen Dias. He was a brilliant footballer and a really sweet guy. I wanted to do it. But amongst a string of missed chances this one too passed me by. So I was pretty happy when she was chosen. It amazing how much of my life I have ended up living with my daughter. It’s pretty surreal. Her achievements in sports, elocution and school have left me pretty moist eyed.

It’s a lovely feeling. People come and congratulate you as parents and we simply brush it off directing it to Jispa. But all this is a lot more complicated than it really is. A lot of factors come into play. But most importantly it simply is the process of adjustment to one and other. That is the true essence of family. Jasmine Jispa and I are constantly adjusting to each other. We all keep growing, keep shifting and keep changing. We try and reach our equilibrium which all economists know is a notoriously unstable state. It doesn’t stay steady at all. There are too many parameters at work. But if we largely work towards achieving it as opposed to disrupting it, you tend to remain in balance.

On one morning last week, Jispa told me as we were leaving for the pool, that she didn’t feel like swimming that morning. Sure but it’s your morning swimming that got you your position on the sports day, right? Ya. She replied. I guess she realized the value of all that hard work. It’s very tough on us parents to enforce discipline. Extremely difficult. How do you not become a tyrant while doing so? I guess jasmine and I take a simple stand. Let’s think through at a point if we want to do a certain activity or not. Do we want her to swim and does she want to swim. Once the call is taken we have to go to closure. Do we want her to study or not. Is it important for her to know the multiplication tables or not. Simple. You rack your brains once or every once in a while and come to an answer. Once you come to an answer you simply execute it. So no matter how tired I may be or sleep deprived, if she has to go to swim in the morning she has to go for a swim. I for one am very clear. If you don’t want to swim then its simple, let’s stop this crazy schedule.

It bugs me no end to be half way there. Jasmine deals with Jispa on a daily basis. She had a different set of issues. If she dictates like this, she would end up being a tyrant. But I am the dad who is away for most of the day. For me it’s simple to be in black or white about issues. Jasmine is all grey. Possibly that’s the way it is. Each one of us enforces on each other a set of paradigms. Each one of us is trying to push us and our paradigms. That’s the fun part. The trick is to get to a common boundary while pushing the edge but not tipping over. It’s easy for the parent to push the child, but getting the child to push the parent is very very difficult. I encourage it when I can but I too must admit that it is not possible. Our ego is far too high to allow for it. But I try.

At the end if my kid remembers me a fair parent, that’s what I will settle for. A fair deal. If she thought I was fair in giving her fair share of freedom, independence, protection, advice and learning; that’s all there is. And yes, her own fair share of credit.

Jispa did a lot because she is happy doing it all. She won her sprint titles for the 6^th year in a row. She has been unbeatable in sprint in her school. That’s pretty cool. This year in the 200 meters she was running along when I saw her being pushed by another kid, which made her go faster. On Sunday while swimming in the 100 meters freestyle, she clocked a personal best because there was her team mate in the adjoining lane. Jispa doesn’t have a natural killer instinct but she likes competing. It’s a bit of a paradox. I guess it’s a bit like me. Why kill something. Relax, try your best. In badminton these days, I see that I naturally raise or lower my game to the opponent’s level. I can’t get myself to kill shots and definitely I can’t play like that for extended periods of time. Possibly Jispa is like that. But I like that. A temperament for sports is not necessarily the one in life. Sports is easy. There is a winning and a pecking order. Life is more complicated. Two or more can win and must win if you want to win in the long run. The victory of one is not necessarily the defeat of the other. A bit of a difference form sport.

So sport doesn’t really teach you about winning in real life. No sir. I don’t think so. I see too many selfish people in sport. People who guard their turf. The badminton guys who don’t want to share their game or the tennis guys who routinely fight over petty issues. That’s stupid. What sports can possibly teach you – discipline, the need to listen to your body, that every point doesn’t matter, that brains are extremely important, that immediate reactions can be honed… whatever… But definitely don’t ever be selfish. I firmly believe that performance sports are dominated by really selfish people. It’s possibly an important part of the mental construct. I hate it and I hope Jispa doesn’t learn from it.

I won... sheesh

Last Saturday was Jispa’s annual sports meet. This is a good time for most of us peleb to catch u[p on what celeb look like in real life. The high points of getting your child to a school which even the celebs prefer. What a pain. Here you will have all the normal mothers going gaga over the celebs and wanting to photograph them and be photographed with them. I am sure it’s quite a pain for the celeb. But as some other mini celeb (friend) told me, these stars would become even more insecure if no one approached them! Haha. The life of a goldfish perhaps!
Honestly I find pretty juvenile when the mothers approach these fellas for the photograph. I am happy and content to beat them in the fathers race. Speaking of which, I continued my winning streak at this race as well. it was pretty boring. There seems to be no real competition in my peer set. A tennis sport celeb (one of the celebrated doubles players) who obviously is pretty fit and fast has a kid ina lower age standard and hence does not compete with me. It would have been mighty fun to race against him. My race I dominated, lead from the start and had no real competition. This time I walked away with a bored and under achieved feeling as well. Last year I had worked on my technique, I had high foot lift, I ran on toes, I ran fast all through etc etc. This time I felt my technique was all wrong. I was lazy in the run to the event. This clearly showed me the power of simple preparations, trial runs, muscle memory and visualisations. One has to keep visualising how to play, how to run, what to do in a situation for one to be better at it. I won but it did not seem to fit all together. Somehow the legs did not know what really to do like last year. This time also ego got to me. Half way into the run I could see there was no real competition. I slowed down considerably towards the end of the run. Too many thoughts crossed my mind. Should I just walk across the finish line to show off, should I relax, should I .... what on earth was happening. EGO the main enemy of sport, the chance to show off in front of an audience. And all this in a mere 75 meter race? Dam shit. I took 10.25 seconds. Drat. If not for ego I should have done in max to max 9 seconds. Now that’s a good race. Pumping hard, the toes barely touching, hard push!
Jispa asked me how my race was. I told her I won but I was all wrong. No fun in winning without real technique. Next year I am determined to do better. Determined to run right. I play to wear the right stuff, tracks instead of jeans and better shirt than the loose flowing full sleeves t shirt I wore in sheer arrogance. It does not matter that I won, I am still hurting at the arrogance that I showed. Dam. This something I have always maintained. Sport is internal, you play for yourself, against yourself with you as your main competitor. Who cares about anyone else. That’s what makes swimming so interesting for me. I swim against myself every day. Even when I play cricket or squash. Who cares what the opponent is. It’s you playing yourself. After teaching Jispa all this about competition and me being stoic during her swimming competition the same day later, I made the same bloody error. Gallery! I think it comes close to ‘pride’ but I think deserves a mention by itself as the eight sin ‘show’.
Talking about encouraging your kids, after the sports day Jispa attended a swimming meet. There you always get whacko mothers shouting to their wards ‘PULL,PULL, PULL, KICK, KICK’. What the hell. They are standing at eth edge of the pool and shouting themselves hoarse. You even get father doing the same. Inside the pool is your champion going to hear you. Should your champion hear you or be in a zone all by himself. He is supposed to focus on his technique, the strokes and blank out everything. A huge quiet and calm. Whenever I have done well in cricket or any other sport. There is a huge quiet that descends over me. I can feel nothing, hear nothing, know nothing. I have been in that zone a few times. It does not matter what anyone is shouting. In fact if someone is being specific to you it irritates else lots of other noise just adds to the ‘silence’.
The last few times I ran I was oblivious to competition, to the crowd, I could only feel the ground being pushed under, I could only feel that I was all alone. I couldn’t think of anything except the finish line. Wow. And compare that to this time when I practically wrote a story in the ten seconds it took me to finish the race. Sheesh.
The zone is not something that comes automatically. You have to work on it. Think it through. Be prepared for it. Work on it and then in the middle it arrives. The muscles know what to do, the body knows where to move. Everything falls into place. Then you play as if an angel is inside of you. All falling into place. Effortlessly.
Hmm. Jispa goes to play squash on Saturday and Sunday. I use it to run the treadmills at the gymkhana. Let me see if I can work into that zone there itself. I think it’s possible. Coming to think of it, this Sunday, I had it at the treadmill for a few minutes, I was running beautifully. But somehow I look around and feel someone is looking at me. That’s when it breaks. I must pretty egocentric that I visualise people looking at me. I have to be above all this. Sport will probably help me. Keep me and my inflated head in check. Keep it down, simple and straight. Easier said than done.
I am sometimes afraid that even my humility might be a show. An act that is designed to make me look humble in front of people. Do I have genuine humility? Even at times. Can I help someone purely to help someone without any expectation of anyone looking at me, thinking about me or having an expectation of nice feelings? Be completely above it all. Is that possible? I believe it so. Difficult but not unachievable.

her school, sighhhh.....

Being fit - nice. Being fast – great. Having Jispa’s physical education teacher telling her that her dad runs like a rocket – priceless. It seems that her friend who was next to her, then commented “even Jispa runs like a rocket”
I got a lot of like papa like daughter thing that day. I am pretty keen that she does her athletics and sports well. A good culture of fitness will go a long way in her life. Studies are something everybody focused on in any case. There are a lot of factors that will force to focus on that part of education, but there are few factors in India that motivate a child’s physical development. It’s changing, with clubs doing their bit, but it is a long way off yet.
While we were at her school for the sports day there was an Art exhibition done by the school, showcasing the work done by the students. Some that stuff was mind boggling. It was done in a variety of media and had multiple expressions. Some of the talent there is outstanding but that’s not what I am so impressed by. Talent many times in inborn. What got me floored was the stuff done by Jispa’s class. Jispa’s painting was hung along side others of her class. They all were similar looking. On that board was also a painting of Jamini Roy. The kids were taught the style of Jamini Roy. How the artist uses forms that need not look real, bright colors that need not match that of the animal in real life, how the eyes are bigger etc. the entire class tried to paint in that style and they came out so beautiful. In my school art class sucked. The teacher couldn’t teach two bits. Those with natural talents did well and the others just ambled along. I never figured the point of an art exam as well. I remember it as being irritating, with paints falling, colors running and an absolute mess. I don’t think Jamini or even Picasso was ever mentioned in the class. Just draw a scene – the scene would change – school, bus stop, fields, etc… those horrible triangles as mountains and the V shaped birds. The best part was the round figurines. Papa figurine, mama figurine and baby figurine. I think they were worse than stick figures.
I quizzed Jispa wheter the teacher drew any of her stuff. She said no, she drew the stuff and colored it herself. That was pretty impressive. I will update the blog on her painting later. That was pretty cool.
The other classes similarly had done work with Picasso, Van Gough etc as inspiration. I wanna go back to school, sob sob.

run along

Jispa’s sports day was there on Saturday. There is always the parents race at the end. Last time I ran, I won but albeit by a smaller margin than what I might have been used to. I had realized that the key to this is the start. So this time, I watched closely. I tried to catch the whistle in the earlier races and figure what his rhythm was to start the race. How long does he take to whistle after he says ‘get set’. Looking at the earlier race I realized one key indicator. He needs to puff his cheeks to blow the whistle. Enough for me. He puffs up to blow. Half a second lead as I get up and push myself from the starting crouching position. Then the whistle, my first step across before the others have reacted and then a burst forward. The youtube videos on racing techniques helped as well, though you really can’t change your running technique too much at 35. That too by just watching a few videos. But playing them over and over again in your head helped a bit. The mind can push the body in ways unthinkable.
The split second lead followed by the burst ahead while the others are even starting, kills competition in the mind as they lose the race right there it self. Suddenly I found myself yards ahead of everyone with almost no competition so as to speak off. This is a 75 meter dash. The start is everything. At around the half way, I wonder why no one is around and I ease up a bit. Suddenly on the far right (I took far left to avoid inevitable race crashes) I see this black dressed guy catching up. I just accelerate enough to keep him in second place. He ran real fast as well. And he is older than me. And he is a celebrity. He is a movie actor with a rock solid physique. Tough guy. I loved his race as well. It was a pleasure to compete with him, no matter the result.
That made me a mini celeb as well. The number of people who came and congratulated me after the race was far more than normal. I have been winning the race since last three years. The celeb in question normally wins the race and there is usual excitement around his race and to see him run. But the fact that someone else won is so easily was something that didn’t go unnoticed. I enjoyed my celebrity status for a complete hour. It’s still not worn off.
The race is held with batches of parents in two standards. The kindergarten papa’s compete together, then the first and second combined, and then the third and fourth combined. The celeb’s kid is in the second standard while Jispa is the first. So next year we might not be able to head off and hence I might have to ensure I bask (internal gratification) in this year’s glory only.

As for Jispa – she won her race as well, with ease. Though I worry on her technique now. In her effort to get her long strides in, she jumps long. It’s almost like a series of long jumps. It breaks the rhythm of her run and slows her down. She is notoriously anal about listening these days and I don’t really want to push her, but I want her to get the rhythm right and that will get her speed up. I will have to work on it in my own way. Might get her to steadily jog with me and then slowly slowly up the beat. Her technique was right until last year, till her mind started working extra time. But anyways, she has a gift for being athletic. Hope she keeps it up, hope we don’t screw up.

Footnote: I think the morning swims also have paid off.

wadaday

This Saturday was a long and tough day. I woke up early for Jispa to go to school for her sports day. After dropping her and catching breakfast jasmine and me too went for her sports day. It was quite hot and was a day for the parents to socialize, I guess. It was eye candy day for the mothers as well with Shah Rukh and Farhaan Akhthar (parents) turning up. Good family picnic. Jispa ran fast as usual and won her 50 meter dash. Though she did slow down in the end. Enough to give me a little bit of an anxious moment. In the parents race, I won this time again. Though the margin of victory was much smaller. 60 meter dashin around 7.9 seconds. Need to shave off at least a second to be faster. Also given the large number of false early starts that everyone does, it’s stupid to wait for the whistle. Next time I am running before the whistle. There – saved half a second there itself. Of all things I sprained my right shoulder while running. RIGHT SHOULDER? from a 60 meter dash? What shit is that? But if that was not enough read on.
I then got out and rushed for my cricket match at the other end of town. It was very hot and I switched on the A/C in the car. I knew that I would not get enough time to warm up so I kept it on and off at regular intervals. BIG MISTAKE. I parked and got off the car, picked up my kit (a bit heavy) and made a dash for the ground. There I strained my left side back muscle. Oh man. Fielding with it was horrible. But I guess I fielded better. Pain improves your concentration and helps you focus better. TIP OF THE DAY – smash yourself with a bat and then go on to the cricket field the next time. Luckily we won without me having to bat. That would have been terrible.
In Mumbai, cricket is mainly played at the maidans. That means matches are played with the boundaries overlapping each other. There is another pitch within your 30 yard circle. I was fielding at covers while being next to the short square leg or short cover of the other match, depending on the side they were bowling from. With the hard cricket ball, it’s a dangerous thing to do. You just hope that he does not hit a shot your way while you have been focusing on your match. I remember thinking, shit, I could get hit, I could die here. Hmm, the last blog was on dharma. Interesting blog to be the last one!. Serious. one gets philosophical on cricket grounds, especially when you are likely to be hit. The batsman on the other match was really good and he hit some real hard shots. See the image below. Those grounds are really close with matches on all the time.
With these uneven grounds you don’t even require someone to hit you from behind. Your own match can kill you. I was fielding off the square and the ball was hit to me real hard. I bent down and thanks to the uneven bounce I got hit on my thumb. Its still sore.
Then we went to a friends place for a get together that was to last late. Suddenly everyone wanted to go for a movie – Marley & me. 11.05pm show. It ended at 1 am. Was I dead at the end of it all? What a day.

like father like daughter - speed

This blog is going to become more about me than my daughter. Heheheh.. (evil snigger).
On Saturday was Jispa’s school sports day. She was quite excited about it. Everybody expected her to win; she kept winning in all the trials leading to the day. I am firm that I do not want any burden of expectation on her while sets off for her race. The last thing she wants is for us to say – win win win… so I did not even give her a ‘best of luck’ wish. Go perform and leave the rest to… well…. to rest. To cut short – she won, by a mile. What I liked that when I saw her run, is her technique. Lots of kids were running but she ran well balanced and in control. She is fast. You realize only when you see her next to her age group. Post that race was the parent’s race. I so wanted to win this one. The burden of expectations I wittingly put on myself. But I wanted to test my speed against the others there are. The race started and I started running. It was a 70 meter race and soon I realized that it does require too much effort. I was winning by a mile as well. I slowed up and completed without so much as breathing hard. I guess it’s not so much my fitness but the others lack of. I saw the other fathers with all well toned gym bodies but it seems no speed. I guess the burst of speed required for a short run is different from the muscle mass built. But I sure loved the win. The buzz (in my head of course) did not subside till Sunday.

I liked it when the other parents were saying – now we know where Jispa gets her speed from.

I am more excited about winning my self than about Jispa winning. That’s because of the quiet confidence that I had in Jispa winning. I was pretty sure she would win. It was like an expected result. But me winning was not expected by me. So I guess it’s not megalomania but more of faith in Jispa. It seems that I have nicely put it and deflected the accusation. But I am quite convinced about it! :)

We saw Taare Zammen par a second time. Jispa continues to amaze us with her razor sharp memory. She remembered a few scenes and quickly predicted what next. Very very quickly.

here is jispa sleeping with chocolate brownie and pooh bear