Legacies. But for whom?

Life post school has been different from the life I got used to living while in school. A lot of things changed, for both good and bad. But two good things happened to me during my time at college. An average school quizzer that I was, seeing passionate college quizzers around me galvanized me into a quizzer in my college days. And the fact that quizzing happened also led to the other good development in life - relative financial independence was achieved, all thanks to the money earned by quizzing all across Delhi.

Another important development happened at this point of life, which is so closely linked to the above mentioned developments that I would resist calling it the third 'good development'. This was my discovery of cricket quizzing. Although far and few in between, cricket quizzes gave my love for the game a meaning. It gave a much needed fillip to my desire to know about the game. Having loved the game for so long and taking enormous amount of pride in knowing about it, my ego got a kick on its face when I sat in a cricket quiz for the first time and came a cropper. "This shall not happen again", resolved my conscience. And that started a journey which took my love for the game to another level. The way things have been in the last few years, I guess it won't be too bad an idea to call this level ‘madness’.

But this piece is neither about cricket nor quizzing, although both are important elements here. The heady concoction of the two led me to invest my quiz winnings on books on the game. It first began with me buying second hand books from the Daryaganj book market. A few quiz wins followed and the habit took off. Now wherever I went, my eyes were always prying for books, specifically books on the game. As my stock as a quizzer rose, so did my budget for such leisure activities and things reached a point where every time I looked at a cricket book, I had to remind myself of the hundred others that had been lying unread in my shelf to not commit the cardinal sin of adding another title to that list.

Now, that's the catch with growing up. Buying books with money is not enough these days. What you also need to buy is the time to read the books you have bought with your money. As life got more and more complicated and busier, time became a much rare commodity than money. The result of such a scenario is that there are now hundreds of books in my possession lying unread.

The thought I want to write about struck me the day I added another to the collection. As has happened so often before, I just couldn't resist myself on seeing two of the best titles at dirt cheap prices. The motivation has flowed from this optimism that one day, one day I'll have the time to read the book I'm buying. Also, I scheme the reluctant buyer in me a little by telling myself that it's quite possible that I might never come across this book again, or maybe not at this discounted price. 

That push is enough. And before I know, I'm walking with the pride and satisfaction of having bought yet another book. Oh yes, something like that does exist. Ask any bibliophile and they would tell you about it.

But that day, I had another thought nudging me as I walked away from the book stall I had scrounged in the past one hour - what if I can never read these books? Pat came the answer, "If not me,my kids will." 

But will they? The moment my conscience uttered those words, it knew it had made plans to flirt with the great uncertainty of life, which is never a wise decision.

My father is a man of science and I saw books of Physics, Chemistry and Maths adorn his small little library while I was growing up. Obviously, there were some literature ones thrown in the mix as well, but majorly science dominated the collection. Being his only son, it is not an answer to a million dollar question as to whom were they supposed to be read by after him. But what happened? Well, they remained glued to the place they were in his cupboards for decades as neither my height nor my aptitude could grow enough to touch them. 

After a year of a reluctant tryst with sciences, I was too scarred and scared to look back at the discipline again. I prospered as a student when I went in the direction of what I liked in life - social sciences. But with sciences, some irreparable damage had already been done. I lost one year of my academic life thanks to that forgettable encounter with Sciences and that's why, till now, I share a strained relationship with sciences, and sadly, with my father as well on some accounts.

My own experience with my father has taught me that parenthood is difficult. As a parent, you often hope that you would get what you want with your kid because you are in control. But, well, when did life pan out as planned ever? Something somewhere goes wrong and you find all your plans lying crumbled on the ground. The truth that we so often fail to realize is that you can't create anyone in your own image, no matter how much you try. Everyone born on this planet is a unique specimen of his/her/its species. And when I say unique, I mean it. Disappointment, thus, is a part and parcel of the whole game of parenthood.

This thought process left me with another important insight about life - that only we, and only we, live our lives. We can't live it through someone else. We can't pin our hopes on someone to lead the life we once wished to but couldn't. It is plain impossible and foolish to even hope for the same. I know the thought is capable of making one feel lonely and helpless but an early acceptance of this harsh truth is better than a sudden unbearable strike at a later stage in life.

At the same time, the thought can make you realize what a precious gift life is to be wasted hoping that someone else would live it for you and move you to action to step forward in the direction of everything one desires, with a greater determination, because if not you, then who?

And that's how I came to promise myself that day that come what may, I will squeeze out enough time out of my busy life to read my cricket books before I leave this world, because if not me, then, maybe no one.