My Mentor

I ran into the jostling crowd that was heading towards the RCC Sports Ground. The Annual Sports Meet 1997 was about to kickoff in a while. I surged through humungous figures before I reached the main gate. My eyes scanned through the world around. My ears could hear nothing but for the honking of horns. I stood there like a statue bearing the weight of my four-foot tall body, searching for my Dad. In the next five minutes the watchman was taking me back as I tried my level best to escape from the clutches of his arms.

It was already 10:45 a.m. and I couldn’t find my Dad anywhere in the crowd. My heart sunk to realize that my Dad had not made it to the Annual Sports Meet. I stood on the field. The four competitors looked around and found their parents and siblings cheering. The placards were held up high, instilling the confidence and passion in them to win the race. A second before the race was to begin, silence made its way into the stadium. I listened to my heart and searched in the crowd, for one last time. I was convinced to lose.

In the speck of a second, I heard a known voice but the bullet had been fired by then and everyone ran in passion. I ran ahead. I had covered ten meters when I found Dad’s outline at the fence of the stadium, next to the points table. Smile, happiness and bliss filled my heart, all at once. My soul jumped high and my feet helped me move ahead, chasing my challengers. Dad was cheering all the way but at a certain stage I confronted a hurdle and my chin touched the solid earth. Dad’s voice seemed to soar above any other soul’s voice and it did help me rise. I stood up, and darted, this time with the passion to let my Dad raise his head high. In the following five seconds, my pace seemed to be slowing down as my confidence was subsiding. A quarter of the journey was yet to be covered. Amidst all the hopelessness I heard my Dad cry, “Go! You can do it!” it magnified the luminosity and passion of the fire, which had then begun to burn with all its vigor.

The final fifteen meters were the most difficult ones to cover. The windpipe had lost its moistness and everything seemed to take a backseat. “The final go, come on, you can do it!”, these words pushed me head to head with the Sapphire House racer. Destination was close. The last five meters…”Go! Go for it!”….these words accelerated my pace to double the initial speed and I heard a “Yeaaah” as the stiff ribbon touched my torso and fell down. I ran into my Dad’s arms, ten meters ahead and all he said was, “Sorry for being late.”

That was one of the most influential moments, which I live till date. I recall its spirit, even today, to face any race in life. The victory of 1997 was not more important than my Dad’s presence and motivation. It taught me a lesson to put in all the required effort, in any sphere of life where there arises a situation to prove yourself without fretting over victory: The products depend on the reactants used. Your actions have helped me witness and tackle the various facets of rugged undulations in life. The knowledge that I have lived through your life will certainly help me get people know you through my identity as well. I have had the privilege to learn Life’s intricacies from a soul as pure and tolerant as yours. Believe me Dad I will make sure it is inherited in the making of better souls. You mean the world to me. Having been blessed by a mentor in a friend’s disguise is an achievement in itself. Life without you would have just been a road to death.

Love you Daddy…..Akansha….