There is
perhaps nothing like Mussoorie weather. The place might not offer you the best
of the views, the best of the Hill culture but surely the air, the fragrance
and the aroma will blow your mind. And meanwhile the rest of the country sweats
it out, I have the luxury of being surrounded by that post-rain flair in the
air. Truly and truly, you are the Queen. The Queen of the Hills. First of her name, protector of the nature’s
realm.
What can
spoil the idea of rejoicing in these serene surroundings? Plenty actually, and
one among the list was the forthcoming arrival of the Final exams of Phase I of
IAS training. Nothing can match the paradox of being called to this heavenly
place and then being asked to study in your rooms when that beautiful breeze
outside calls upon us so desperately. Anyway, an OT got to do what an OT got to
do.
So I
somehow convince myself to start my studies. I start with organizing the
zillion PPTs we have been taught over 4 months. And meanwhile I prepare myself
to willfully accept this sentence or Death by Powerpoint, I observe some
activity in the Happy Valley ground from my window. The place has been more or
less dead lately with everyone confining themselves to their rooms on the
pretext of studying but secretly watching Game of Thrones. Yes folks, even
Mussoorie has little birds flocking all over. So, these local kids had gathered
to play football. And even though they were in plenty, I felt they were calling
out for me. And it’s a sacrilege to disappoint the kids.
There I
was, with my football gear. All dressed up. I did my stretching routine along
the sidelines meanwhile the kids were shooting the ball like bazookas.
Sometimes it’s just difficult to believe that our national team lost to an
Island nation recently and ranks somewhere in the 160s. The game started. The
adrenaline pumping high every passing second. Great passing football. Couple of
greedy forwards as always.
Suddenly I
notice that quite a few of them are wearing a single football boot. And a
normal one on the other foot. I kept it to myself till the end of play and then
eventually asked them about it. They said that those weren’t their own ones. Of
course, they could not afford such expensive gear. They had received these from
the previous batches. Now they could have used the pair for themselves but they
all decided to share it among their own group. If someone was right-footed, he
would take the right boot, and left boot for the left-footed. That way, they
thought, more of them would get the chance to practice with boots.
It shook me
for a while. How thoughtful, I wondered. And they were all gifted I tell you. I
looked at my overpriced boots and felt bad. Yes, I love football and I do want
to play and I do have the ability to buy me such a pair. But these kids, they
can be that impossible dream of seeing our National Football team play a good
tournament. And they are bloody good. But they don’t have the gear. Reminded me
of the 1st Football World Cup where India was invited but couldn’t
participate because they had no football gear.
Sad, isn’t
it? We have the numbers. We have the talent. We have the desire. But we don’t
have enough shoes. And with these many, we would always have such Half
Footballers!
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