30 record(s) found
The outline of the setting sun blurred as the bright yellow with the flaming red. The whole swimming complex was bathed n a tangerine glow as the sun sank into a bank of clouds. Pleased that my team had finally clinched the water polo championships after months of training, I glowed with delight.
Radha was your “regular” Olympic medalist. She trained several hours a day, six days a week, 52 weeks a year, for four years before an Olympics meet. Yes, she was your completely normal, sole gold medalist from India at the most recent Olympics. The only woman – nay, the only Indian – to qualify for the final races. However, she didn’t always show a flair for swimming.
The sweltering heat failed to drown the rousing cheers of the spectators in the stadium. However, the atmosphere was intense for both western Oregon and Central Washington softball teams.
Cold. The sensation bombards me as I first step onto the slippery blue swimming pool block nearest my feet. It’s hard to imagine that it’s just another midsummer day. My bathing suit feels damn and clings to my skin. A bead of water escapes for my hair cap, the tiny rivulet tracing down my left cheek like a teardrop. The air around me “is charged with excitement, the crowd buzzing like bees in the stands. Everyone is excited about this meet. After all, today’s winner would be the one representing our country in the next Olympics.
Concentrate! I told myself, trying to focus on the lane in front of me, and not Annabel’s high-pitched excited shrieks from Lane 3. “I won this last year,” se told her crowd of fans, “This should be easy peasy.”
The door to the basketball court creaked opened. Garish dusk light streaked into the court, engulfing it with an eerie, ominous aura. My sneakers squeaked against the hardwood floor, a sound I had grown accustomed to after the past four years.
I was six, and at my grandfather’s house for a visit. There was a programme on disabled sportsmen showing on TV, and I was marveling at the stories of paraplegics playing basketball, running marathons and the like. Grandpa was chuckling when he saw my reaction.
When my father died, my life was torn apart. I had been an only child, and my mother brought me up singlehandedly thereafter. She cooked, cleaned and supported me with her warm words every single day. I loved her with every fibre of my being.
“You’ve got to be kidding me, Mum! Bike camp?! I’m a dancer, not a cyclist! Plus, I haven’t road on a bike since I was in 3rd grade!” Peggy exclaimed on the last day of middle school.
The first silvers of daylight from the dawning sun flitted through the crack in the heavy velvet curtains, encasing the mahogany cabinet in a sublime radiance. Encircling me were ornaments and jewellery that glistened with an imposing sheen, encrusted in the glory of the morning sun. Even the cabinet I was standing on gave off a warm, ambient glow that shone from the polished, ornate wood. Yet I remained as I was – drab, dismal, and foreign, as always.
Fire The foul-smelling toilet was filled with the sound of fists hitting flesh. Jeremy crouched down on the stained floor, shielding himself from the neverending blows. He whimpered as the toe of a white Bata shoes came painfully into contact with his ear. “Get up, you puny idiot,” boomed a mean voice into his ear. He was hauled up brutally by the collar. Before he could shield himself, a huge fist connected with his nose. Jeremy howled in pain.
I am flying, soaring through the air. Looking up to the clouds, I hold my breath. Can I do this?
I crashed onto the surface of the pool. As I somersaulted down below, I felt all the tension drain away from me. Every single problem was forgotten when I’m underwater. I was no longer the scrawny, clumsy girl I was I reality, but a graceful water nymph. I twirled in the middle of the water, my hair a dark halo. Then I felt the sunlight streaming through the water on my face and opened my eyes. All anyone could see was a hazy blue tinted with gold, but I saw my safe heaven.
“BASKET!!!” everyone screamed at the top of their lungs. I was among them, because our school, the Spindales School’s Girls’ basketball team had just scored. There was hardly any time left, and our score was tied with that of the Notterdame Academy. The crucial 20 seconds left would decide the winners of the interschool Basketball Championship. Everyone present at the match had their fingers crossed.
Rakesh Padmanabhan Parmeshwar. A suitably large name for a rather large person. We used to call him Cannonball – a suitably rotund nickname for a rather rotund person. He was generally the kind of person other people generally avoided treating to lunch – they might not be able to foot the bill afterwards.
I love tennis I had been interested in the game since I was little, and my family had always been supportive. They encouraged me to enter tournaments for the experience and, of course, the trophies. Having this kind of supportive environment enabled me to believe that my dream to become number one was within reach.
In my life, there are two things that I love. The first is the sea. I can spend hours listening to the whispers of the sea. The fact that I live so close to the sea probably has something to do with it. In my eyes, the sea is magnificent – strong enough to carve out entire coasts, gentle enough to create soft sandy beaches. This love affair with the seas is something I’m proud of, something I would tell and show the world unreservedly.
Five. “Pass it here!” “Fast-break, now!” The ball soared down the court, and three players ran after it immediately.
We were born conjoined at the hip, my sister Sandra and I, at 12:08 am on a rainy Sunday on July 29, 1990. For six months we had been “stuck together,” as our Grandma puts it now.
The court was dark, the lights turned off. Confetti was strewn all over the place, a remnant of what had just transpired. The net still divided the court, another sign of a recently ended struggle – victory for one, defeat for another. The gym was silent, and its bleachers and seats empty. The only source of light was a panel of windows opening up to the late afternoon sky.