The State Medical Association had organised its annual sports event. All the district medical associations participate in it and compete in various sports categories. It’s an event full of passion and enthusiasm every year.
I got a call to participate in the district cricket team this year. And how happy I was! Cricket has been my passion since I got to know the game. During medical practice, I had lost touch, but the love for the game, always remained. Since last year I had started playing again, intermittently in small tournaments. And this was a happy moment. Being a part of the district team in a state-level match would be fun and challenging.
The authorities from the district association had selected the team, and everyone was focused on giving it a serious effort. The chosen bunch of players finalised a ground for the daily practice; and at 6 am, the training started. We all had to complete the training and be on time for the hospital. Sadly, my schedule was getting too busy, and I could not make it to the practice. But I was determined to be on the ground one day. Being on the field, the green outfield, and the fresh breeze all take me to another world altogether.
I was feeling upbeat. As I reached the dugout, two happy faces greeted me. A handshake and a hug happened, and I became part of the dugout. It is that easy on the sports ground, right? I remembered our last tournament about six months back. I was involved in a brawl with the same guy who had just hugged and welcomed me. He had sledged when I was batting, and though it was a minor deal and part of the game, I had lost control and publicly lashed out at him. Perhaps my behaviour wasn’t ‘right’, but it happens when you are passionately involved in the game. But now it all felt like that part of the memory disk was wiped clean; we were part of the same team, and the only common thing that mattered to us was our team’s best performance. He cheered me up when I batted, and I bucked him up when he bowled well. We were good friends, and that was the dominant feeling.
The practice was over. It was not a great outing for me. But it was expected as I was out of practice. I returned home thinking about the last tournament’s brawl and what happened today. As I reached home, my son came running to me. He is even more passionate about cricket than me. He was excited to know that I had started practicing for the upcoming tournament. I was hesitant to look at him and talk to him. Because, the previous night, I had scolded him for repeatedly missing his homework deadlines. I had asked him to reduce his playtime until his pending studies were complete. He had felt awful and, with tearful eyes, had promised me he would do that. I was angry, and he was sad when we slept. But this morning, as I returned from the ground, he had forgotten all the ill feelings. He was all ‘normal’ and full of love. I felt ashamed of myself.
All of us want to be happy. We all desire a happy life. And as we navigate life, we all have this question, ‘What should we do to be happy?’ Many a times, this appears to be a very philosophical and spiritual question. But hadn’t I got a straightforward answer to it today? My son effortlessly got rid of the grudges and took the good part of the advice for him. My friend on the cricket ground had forgotten the past instantly and made me focus on the upcoming tournament with him. And both had made me and themselves very happy. I realised I had to live my life with my son’s attitude or as being on the cricket field every day. And if everyone among us could do this, the entire world would be happy!
(As I wrote down this incident, one of my favourite songs was playing in the background, “Sleeping Child”. Do listen and tell me how you find the lyrics.)
