Badminton Champs..
Few days back as I was day-dreaming in my office ( which by the way was not hindering the progress of any of my work..) thoughts visited my childhood days. The days filled with friends, lots-n-lots of studies, daily bickering with my mom and sister and cartoons... But one thing that amused me the most was playing badminton with my sister on Sunday evenings.
Sunday evening was the time for badminton in our family. As soon as the noon passes by with evening casting its coolness, an old net ( whose history and origins are yet to be explored..) would be religiously tied up between the garden lamp and a make-shift pole on the road leading to our garage. With the court built the next mammoth task would be of waking up my sister from her afternoon sleep. It would take a lot of coaxes (from my parents) and kicks (from none other but me..) to make her sleepy face come down to play a game. Mom & Dad tried their best to teach both of their children the best of the game through patience and grace. But the sibling animosity that ran down deep between my sister and me was to be the real source of inspiration. After few minutes of being in the game, cheers would be replaced with taunts. There were taunts for every thing.There were taunts for smashes, for outs and even for picking up the shuttlecock from the ground ! I pity the shuttlecock now for it would have cursed on itself for being let down on the ground unattended when it is meant to be flying with its feathers for most of the game.. The rage on court accompanied by abuses and walk-offs had its own time-out during the game. The tensions would flare up to such an extent that even legendary John McEnroe would have felt bad for our parents who had to somehow settle the quarrel before it escalated to a fully hair-pulling typical sibling fight. By dusk, scores( of both the game and fight) would be settled among both of us and the day is wrapped up with both the players claiming victory in their clamorous voice. With the net bundled up and stored in the garage the self-proclaimed "Champs" enter the house with heads held high only to be bowed down in front of god during the evening prayer (Is that why we have evening prayers to remind each one of us what we are?).
With that the "champs" of 115-B are forgotten but would be back to face each other next week at the same place, same time for the same "game"...
Sunday evening was the time for badminton in our family. As soon as the noon passes by with evening casting its coolness, an old net ( whose history and origins are yet to be explored..) would be religiously tied up between the garden lamp and a make-shift pole on the road leading to our garage. With the court built the next mammoth task would be of waking up my sister from her afternoon sleep. It would take a lot of coaxes (from my parents) and kicks (from none other but me..) to make her sleepy face come down to play a game. Mom & Dad tried their best to teach both of their children the best of the game through patience and grace. But the sibling animosity that ran down deep between my sister and me was to be the real source of inspiration. After few minutes of being in the game, cheers would be replaced with taunts. There were taunts for every thing.There were taunts for smashes, for outs and even for picking up the shuttlecock from the ground ! I pity the shuttlecock now for it would have cursed on itself for being let down on the ground unattended when it is meant to be flying with its feathers for most of the game.. The rage on court accompanied by abuses and walk-offs had its own time-out during the game. The tensions would flare up to such an extent that even legendary John McEnroe would have felt bad for our parents who had to somehow settle the quarrel before it escalated to a fully hair-pulling typical sibling fight. By dusk, scores( of both the game and fight) would be settled among both of us and the day is wrapped up with both the players claiming victory in their clamorous voice. With the net bundled up and stored in the garage the self-proclaimed "Champs" enter the house with heads held high only to be bowed down in front of god during the evening prayer (Is that why we have evening prayers to remind each one of us what we are?).
With that the "champs" of 115-B are forgotten but would be back to face each other next week at the same place, same time for the same "game"...
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