Not so long ago, flipping through Sri Sri Ravishankar's An Intimate Note to the Sincere Seeker, I stopped at this page bearing the headline Appreciation. The summary of the discourse under the title was that you appreciate someone when you think they have done something exceptional, something you believed to be beyond their capabilities. Speaking for myself, it was hard to concur with this contention. The resistance perhaps was reinforced by my own sporadic yet intense craving for recognition. Was I chasing flash-in-the-pan moments? Was I wandering around on a summer new moon night in anticipation of the sight that could be bestowed by lighting from a thunderstorm, something I could term an epiphany amid the darkness - a summarily distinguishing experience worthy of appreciation, praise and celebration? To get out of the contemplative waters before the vortex could pull me in, I abandoned that ship of thought.
Recent events, however, made me take that cruise again.
Why would a former KGB spy known to repress the slightest hint of political dissent - that cherished right of a progressive, democratic human kind keen on peaceful coexistence through the expression, debate and reconciliation of diverse views - be a contender for the Nobel Peace Prize? Maybe, the prompt repression at the initial stages was helping minimize the number of casualties by thwarting a full-blown civil strife! Then again, he has been accused of assassinating rivals, too. Yet another novel way to bring your opponents peace, if only in a quiet casket beneath the ground? His claim to the prize apparently rests on the deal he brokered between Syria and the outraged West - primarily the USA and France - who turned on their heals on the verge of armed intervention against the Syrian regime headed by Bashar Assad charged with killing thousands of Syrian rebels, most blatantly in a chemical gas attack on rebel holdings at the end of August last. Reports have since suggested that the Russians supply Assad with the more conventional arms, and the Russian President was only trying to preclude possible loss to his nation's exchequer. Motives, perhaps, are not to be scrutinized when the results are noble. But, that he is deemed a suitable candidate for the Noble Peace Prize seems to follow Sri Sri's assertion: a man who is by nature hawkish had done something unimaginably out of character by brokering peace!
The other notable event, particularly for me, was Rahul Dravid's decision to hang up his gloves - those used before the stumps, as well as the pair employed behind the wickets - and declare his innings as a cricketer. That he would still lead the Rajasthan Royals had been the only solace to his fans when he announced his retirement from international cricket in 2012. Throughout his career - almost entirely splendid but for the slow initial clamber to the plateau of glory and the bumpy descent to a slightly lower ledge of performance towards the end - he stood tall, as a Wall should, bespelling puritans and proselytes alike with his flawless, inch-perfect aesthetics; providing the essential backdrop for some of his peers' acclaimed murals; shielding his peers against avalanches and juggernauts; being the all-purpose structure you could pray at in times of crisis needing divine intervention, slander with graffiti in wanton hatred - sure to blind you to his incomporable contributions to Indian Cricket in particular and the game itself in general - if you belonged to the cult of Tendulkar, Ganguly or Dhoni, or in unbecoming irreverence if you had not watched the game through the beginning years of the last decade. He has faced the most deliveries in test cricket history, held on to the most catches in the longer form, scored in excess of 24000 runs across the two prominent forms, scored a test century in every test playing nation, quenched India's thirst for an all-rounder who could add depth to the batting roster by keeping wickets willingly despite his personal dislike for the demands of the role behind the stumps, literally led India into the feared battle zones comprising bouncy wickets, swinging tracks; batted at every slot he has been asked to take to the crease at by the team management even after sealing his legend as a revered number three... In spite of all these achievements and more, he was never awarded the Rajiv Gandhi Khel Ratna. I was extremely rankled when the award was forced to miss its tryst with Rahul in 2012, when he had announced his retirement having accrued more than a thousand runs in 2011 and having been India's only saving grace in the traumatic English tour after the World Cup. Yet, I guess, this too is in concurrence with Sri Sri's observation: his achievements are undeniably great, but we never expected anything else from him, did we? All said and done, he only manifested his innate potential.
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