21 years of facepalm

It's that time of the year when it's all about me. Don't run away though, I'll keep this rant short.

When I was 14, I was crazy about Formula 1 and I loved Schumacher. Today, I'm fond of Formula 1, I like Schumacher and I'm trying to hunt his son down. Back then, I loved watching Cardcaptors. Now, I watch Cardcaptors only when I find its Japanese version. I used to believe Richie Sambora was the best guitarist in the world. Now I don't think twice before saying Petrucci can kick Sambora arse. My behaviour, once termed hyper, is now high. As a teen, I'd regret a lot of things I'd say, often said without internal processing. Now I don't care enough to regret. Then, I was always full of energy and made good of it in athletics. I cared about education. I actually had ambition. And now, I'm ..well, I have energy and make good of it by looking for more food. I drag myself through the process of education. I can't find my ambitions.

Many changes, o'er these years, some trivial, others not so much. Only a few things have stayed constant. My height for instance, but lets not go there.

None of those changes, I had a conscious control over. When I turned 20, I decided to bring about changes that I wanted to see. It's only providing you with redundant information, when I tell you that none of it came through. But I did have exciting plans! I wanted to experiment and go trippin'.Instead, I had paan for the first time and went tripping over electric cables. Did I hear you say facepalm? Well, you're absolutely right.

In fact, I'm pretty sure the doctor who yanked me out into this world 21 years back had a hard time getting my feet out of my mouth, while I hid my face in my hands. Ever since, its been facepalm after facepalm. My parents have even considered using surgical measures to keep my feet out my mouth. 21 years of it all, its been fun. For those who stood at a distance and watched, of course. I'm not too upset myself, I'm sure a lot of things could've been worse. Tough, crazy or blissful-it's at least been interesting all this while.

The legal age for everything is here and I've waited for long. But harder times are to come, people say. I find myself wondering if I'm all set to 'battle the world'. I wonder if I'll ever make a positive difference to my environment, or if I'll fall asleep in a bathtub at 27, without having achieved anything worth talking about. I..

I wonder how much I'm going to cringe when I read this a year from now.

Damn.

There's a geezer in F1 (and its NOT Schumacher).

"The five red lights eliminate and the *insert name* GP iis GO!"

Quite literally, ring a bell?

For religious followers of Formula1 who watch the telecast on Espnstar, every race begins with those words being spat out in mighty excitement by Steve Slater. And boy, is he one special character!

Before I stick to boring tradition and list out points as to why the man ought to be out looking for his screws, let me state that I like him. He's a fine chap, a typical middle-aged British man, I suppose, hyper and overly joyous all the time. Irrespective of everything I say, Formula1 RaceDay needs him. But considering all that bumbling, messing up and guffawing, I decided there had to be a post on the bugger. So, quickly getting down to business, here's what I find annoying/amusing about the man :

* The tone of his voice + accent.

Maaybe I shouldn't comment in this category because of my bias toward the baritone. But hey, its only fair that a sport have a commentator with a charming voice. I mean, the sport is a two hour show with cars going about one track, a shrieking voice can get to you, y'know? Alright, maybe not his voice per se , its pitch perhaps. Well, you get the drift.

And I won't trash the accent - I don't hate it. Especially since it can get amusing at times.

* Mr.Excessivley Hyper

Yeah, I'm no one to rant about somebody else being annoyingly hyper, but this man simply ought to calm down! What is he now, 50? All that excitement could rub his BP the wrong way. Earlier, there was the ever-calm Chris Goodwin, who kept things going steady, without giving any one's pulse a sudden jolt.

Agreed, there are two sides to the coin. Without Slater's constant cackle, non-crazy F1 fans might catch a snooze before lap 20. But just sometimes, his excitement can get to one's nerves.

* Blunders galore

In the name of Ayrton Senna, someone please help him get all those names right. Slater almost always remembers to drop in a blooper during a telecast. In all his excitement, it seems like he often loses his train of thought. For instance (and this is just one of hundreds), at this weekend's Spanish GP, he went,

"Whatever Sebastian Vettel can do, Vettel can do it 300th of a second better."

Replace the second Vettel with Webber, please.

Yes, I know, to commentate in real-time is very tough, I would've made a bigger fool out of myself.. yada yada yada. But one ought to know the basics like team and driver names, yes?

"Kobayashi there, driving for the BMW Sauber.....Sauber...whatever it is they call it now! hehe!"

BMW Sauber Ferrari, thank you very much.

* Talking over a driver's radio conversation.

Here's something that actually makes me want to send out a flying punch. When a driver's radio goes on for the viewers to listen to, you quit rambling and let people listen to the driver-engineer conversation! Slater always has a fellow commentator remind him to shush. When the man finally completes his rant and goes quiet, the radio conversation would be three fourths done with.

Bollocks!

* Well, strictly speaking, this is not a valid point. His bro-crush on Lewis Hamilton has nothing to do with this post. Yeah, he was a true Schumacher fan but jumped wagon. So? He never makes any biased remarks in Hamilton's favour now, does he? Does he?

Well, at least its better this year. Its just him going ga-ga over the Ham-boy. There is no bright orange-clad-pussycat's-annoying-doll going fruity in the pit lane. Phew!

Anyway, not digressing further ; the listed issues aside, there's Slater's constant comparison between F1 and chess ( "they're playing chess at 250kph!") and his never ending stuttering, among many such idiosyncrasies.

But like I said before, he's one endearing old bloke. He adds his Brit jazz to Formula 1 every Sunday and my race wouldn't be complete without him or his flubs. Of course, other sports have funnier people to celebrate, but here's my toast to that yeasty geezer from Formula 1 - Cheers.

A day well spent.

Parikrma is an NGO that provides education to underprivileged children. For more information, visit Parkirmafoundationdotorg

A fine Wednesday morning two weeks past the commencement of my summer holidays , I found myself running through my to-do lists, trying to find something to do. The mundaneness of everyday routines having numbed my nerves, I refused to recognize tasks that seemed uninteresting. Quickly looking past the ones labeled 'important' , I decided to step up to the internet, the sphere where time isn't respected enough. But before I could lose my way amongst the many webpages, I remembered Parikrma. My friend and I had been putting off a visit for a long while due to work at college and were eager to visit. I thought, why not meet those kids today and bring a smile on their faces?

After a few calls to my friend and the Nandini Layout branch of the NGO, I left home. A short drive later, I found myself looking up at the bright and colourful school. I soon met my friend and together, we met the principal. We just wanted to volunteer, we told him. Very quickly, he had our work cut out for us. We were to assist teachers in minding 2 sections of tots.
Enthusiastically, we followed him into the nearest classroom. With just one look into 'Sun', the class for the youngest group of children, I realised I wasn't particularly qualified to handle the kids. Upon my request, we moved into 'Mercury', the standard 1 of Parikrma. Once inside the class, I saw everything that I had pictured an NGO school to be - except for one detail. I saw more smiles than I had expected to see. But that was the last mental note I was allowed to make. Five seconds into entering the class, we were surrounded by kids who only came up to our waists. Twenty five to thirty of them, all very excited and full of energy. They wanted to know our names, they wanted us to know theirs, they wanted us to take photographs with them, they wanted us to have a look at their coloured works of art and they wanted us to do it all immediately! I flashed my friend a part-exhausted, part-terrified look but she assured me we'd get by, unscathed. I tried to cross my fingers in prayer, only to realise my fingers were all clutched by different kids. I took a deep breath to calm myself, while my friend took charge. As worried as I was after the ambush, things only got better from then on.

Through the morning, we recited rhymes and math exercises, played games and laughed with the children. Every time a camera came out of our bags, they'd swarm around us and fight each other to ensure they made it into the frame. Of course, they wouldn't let us go until they had a look at the photo and felt content with their appearance in it. Evidently, we weren't the first visitors they had. But the love they seemed to shower on us so effortlessly made us feel very special. When it was time for lunch, we were invited to eat along with them. We were only glad to oblige.

The afternoon was consumed by art class. I had fallen in love with the kids, yes, but the talent-mine in that classroom drew a small measure of harmless envy. As we sat expressing our approval of all the masterpieces, the school bell rang. There was a loud chatter of bye-byes, lots of flying kisses and in less than a minute, the kids vanished. My friend and I turned to head home.

The children on

Independence Day.

Once home, I had a lot to think about. Parikrma mainly schools orphaned children or children whose parents are serving prison time. A majority of the children live in a hostel close to school, with just about the basic needs being fulfilled. For most of them, it had been years since they had seen a member of the family. For some, such a meet had never happened. But not once ; not once during the entire day, did they lose the smile from their faces. These children attend school everyday with unfathomable enthusiasm, study intently, greet visitors with tight hugs and rush out of school in the evening - only to come back in the next day, with the same energy.

Almost immediately, there was the inevitable introspection. I recalled my first year of engineering, when I'd get depressed over not liking what I was being made to study. I recalled the times when I refused food at home, wanting to go to a restaurant. The many times when I would fight with my family over a multitude of trivial issues. There was a lot to learn from these children.
Happiness seems to be the destination we all seek. But to a majority of us, happiness remains an elusive emotion. And then there are these children, who have nothing to lose but themselves. The energy around them is ever-so-positive and there is absolutely no room for hate. Sure, they have their mighty differences now and then, generally over an eraser or a crayon. But fifteen minutes later, you might find them posing for a photograph with their arms around each other. There isn't much that this world can do to take away their smiles. There hardly exists anything that can attack the bounty of happiness that lies within them. And there is absolutely no stimulus required, for them to share this bounty with you.

We went back to Parikrma again. For three months, we made charts , bound text books , sang songs and taught Math and English. Three months of bliss. While the children took lessons according to the designed syllabus, we had our fair share of life-lessons. The little ones showed us how the world is too small and life, too long, to feel hate. How there is never a need to seek happiness from around you ; you only have to look within yourself.

Even today, we go back for short visits when time permits. But unlike the first time I visited Parikrma, I don't visit the kids intending to bring a smile on their faces. I just know I'll return home with a broad one on mine.

Its raining Buttons.

I have a problem with this Formula 1 season and Espnstar is to blame. Why, I want to know, just why have they changed their excellent opening track for Raceday and Chequered flag? It might seem trivial to you, but I have prepared myself for every race, over all these years, by bobbing my head to that racy track. The new track may not be bad but it isn't a speck on the old one. I wouldn't complain if I could get it off the internet, but I simply couldn't find it. Can anyone please help me find it?

Moving on, it appears like Alonso is the only teenage girl in this world who can drive the wheels off that Ferrari. Good for the team, bad for people like me. He praises the team, he praises the car, he praises the strategies, he drools over the team boss..just how hormonal can girls get?! Even I haven't, ever, gushed over Gary Oldman or Tesla like Alonso does while talking about Montezemolo. Really.

After Bahrain, I assumed Ferrari would run away with the championship this year. Vettel, I hoped, would take the driver's title. Then Australia happened. For me, the onset of the Australian GP induced a mix of joy, grief and fear. Joy, to see Vettel and Ferrari doing great. Grief, because I can't forget Kimi's first win with Ferrari, same place, three years back. And fear, because I don't like the condition of the Merc that Schumacher is driving. The buildup to the race was entertaining though, with the Hamilton man trying to impress women on the streets of Melbourne - and getting fined!

Getting down to the race itself, there was a world of change from Bahrain. Excellent maneuvers by Webber, Kubica , Roseberg, Hamilton(yech!) and a couple others, great battles between teammates, slight drizzle, a few wrong tyre-decisions and a small spray of accidents ; this race didn't let the fans down. The start was great for Vettel, Massa and Kubica, who wasted no time in darting to the first corner. The start wasn't good for me. Things were fine until Button decided to give Nando a li'l kiss on track. Their cars touched and Nando spun with joy : now only if he wouldn't knock down Michael's front wing and send him sliding off the track. While I tried to recover from this, two of my favorite rookies, Hulkenberg and Kobayashi, decided to park their cars in a spectacular fashion. Apart from a string of overtaking maneuvers and wild grass-rides, the race saw nothing significant happen until reliability issues struck the Red Bull again. This time, Vettel stopped a few meters shy of the barriers, after a brake failure. From there on, most cars played cat and mouse till the penultimate lap when things lit up for a moment. Webber touched Hamilton, ruining his race and Hamilton's chance for a podium. The final bit of action came from Schumi, as he overtook two cars, to land himself the final championship point. Button crossed the finish line with a rather butterball-ish John Travolta waving the chequered flag. Kubica took home a well deserved second. The Ferraris led by Massa, Rosberg and Hamilton came in 3-6.

In spite of things not going well for Vettel or Schumacher, I could appreciate this race. It was a fine trailer that demonstrated how exciting this season can be. I have my own concerns about the scoring system, but predictions and comments can be pushed for after two or three more races.

Looking forward to a better Merc and a reliable Red Bull in the next race, I'm also excited-giddy about the scene at Mclaren. While Whitmarsh praises Button's strategy, Hamilton blames the team for bad strategy. I'm glad there is enough action and drama to sustain Formula 1 this year. Despite what happens this season, I know I'll enjoy the races. I know I'll walk away from Steve Slater's jabber saying "I'm lovin' it!".

Its on!

What is?
Firstly, UTPT. Quizzing doesn't get better than this. March 19-21st, 2010. Be there!


Now with that out of the way, the 2010 season is ON!
Nerves have started to twitch, fingernails have been digested , friends have been fought with - all this, with a month to go for the inaugural race!

There is so much to like about this season. New teams, new points system, NO Mosley, a good selection of drivers and the return of a winning combination. Needless to say, I'm thrilled(beyond acceptable limits) to see Schumacher and Brawn back together. But before I continue with my joyous rant, I'm going to say one thing to those of you who believe Schumacher is back for the money, fan count(?!) yada yada yada : Foutre vous.

Getting down to business, the new teams are US F1, Virgin, Lotus and Campos. The newbies started to interest me after I read about Branson's deal with Tony Fernandes, the owner of Lotus. If that deal is followed through, the team that ranks lower in the championship at the end of the season will have its owner serving wine in the other team owner's airline, for a day. Stewardess attire in place. How rad is that!

Their spirit is commendable. It has been and will continue to be an uphill task for the new teams to provide good/any competition to the established teams. Branson's glamour quotient aside, Virgin - the car, isn't really happening. If you look up an F1 thesaurus, you'll find 'US F1' to be synonymous with 'joke'. My genuine sympathies are with the team, but, that F1 is an expensive sport is no hidden secret. Lotus has launched a good-looking car, but is said to have downforce issues. And the last team, Campos, has been battling for survival. I have come across more rumors about Campos and Stefan GP than those about the foster parents of the world, Brangelina. It finally appears like Campos is being taken over by (some)Jose Ramon Carabante , in which case the team might be renamed. News about a certain Stefan GP continue to float around. Stefan GP is linked to Villeneuve, Ralf Schumacher and India's Karun Chandok. I wouldn't mind having them enter the sport, if it means giving Karun an opportunity to do the same.
Frankly, I can not do justice to this situation with my post. At least, not like Ferrari seem to have done with their statement. (Its a must-read)

Plenty new drivers coming in, but I'm excited crazy about The Hulk-enberg. I've been tracking this young German from his A1 and GP2 days and I expect him to perform well, given a reliable car. And perhaps, he could bag a better drive next season. Bruno Senna brings with him a legacy and the hopes of many fans around the world. US F1 brings with it some drivers whose names I haven't tried keeping in memory, not yet. Renault, for one, isn't paying a driver - the team is being paid by Petrov. Russian Petrov, his politically connected father and their tryst with F1 and money - this circus is far too controversial even by Formula 1 standards. Here's a good read on this.

Of course, we still have charming Vettel around. He is my candidate for the driver's title, after Michael. And I'm praying, with as many fingers crossed as possible, that we'll have an ego-driven battle in the all Brit team of Mclaren. Unlikely as this scenario is, I'd simply love to hear Button refer to Hamilton's arse on the team radio. All wishful thinking aside, I'm not ruling out Mclaren as a top contender. Mclaren, along with Ferrari and Red Bull seem to be the top 3 teams this season.

The new rules include a new points system, re-fueling ban et all. Interesting. But just having the old tyrant out feels good. My official congratulations to Jean Todt for becoming the new chief of the FIA. It is said, Todt wanted to appoint his son, Schumacher, as his special officer. But fortunately for me and numerous other Schumacher fans, Brawn made Schumacher an offer he couldn't refuse!
Ferrari tried hard to bring in a 3 car per team system, desperate to provide Schumacher a car. They couldn't manage that but had already booked themselves a whiny, brassy Spaniard. And before we knew it, Schumacher was set to join Brawn in his mission.

Ferrari have moved on, embraced their new line-up and can't stop singing wussy praises. They're sure of seeing their drivers better Schumi. Stefano said at an interview recently, "Alonso is the only one to have beaten Michael by a huge margin - in 2005." Stefano worked for Ferrari in 2005, surely he remembers how pitiful that car was?
Its rather painful to see Schumi separate from the family he held together for so long. Yes, I'm still miffed with Ferrari for ousting Kimi but once you wear Ferrari red, you don't trade the colour. I can't wait for Brawn to draw stunning strategies, watch Schumi execute them to perfection. I can't wait to upload photos of Schumi-Ross on the podium and tag them brawn and brain, respectively. I can't wait to feel the thrill and joy that I felt many years back! But it still is hard to accept that he isn't driving for the Tifosi. Whats harder, is watching Alonso drool over Ferrari like an annoying girl in her early teens. He is doing a great job behind the wheel though. The new car seems to be in great shape and I have little doubt that Alonso will make the best of it. Seeing Alonso top a Test session recently, with Michael coming in 5th(that Mercedes has me very worried) left me ripped. At this rate, cheering on Ferrari for Constructor's and Schumacher for Driver's isn't going to be easy.

Well, since I've got an entire season of racing, controversies and political drama to worry, lose hair and voice over, I'll end the post. I'll end it with a wish, an optimistic note that has been running through my mind for two months :

Schumi, kick Nando's ass for 2006!

Can Chuck Norris kick?

Its not safe to let people know your weaknesses. I mean, pjux tagged me with two days left for my exams to begin. Clever tactic, wouldn't you say? Its exam time! How can anyone refuse a blog post?! Dang!

So anyway, here I am, making a public diary out of my blog. The year '09. The year that wasn't.

January - The Beginning Is The End Is The Beginning.
The wonderful Quiz Corp trip to Saarang happened and I missed it. Yes, I'm still sore. Will always be. If you didn't go, you should be sore too.
This month, born with a bang, brought with it some cheer, a few tears, tough choices and general confusion. And all along I pondered about the truth in that thing they say, "What goes around comes around".


February to May - Electric Feel.
A good semester. It was no match to the previous, but good nonetheless. One fantastic UTPT* and brilliant company all through : this semester had it all. Apart for a few misses, it was a fine period.

Almost all my lady friends had broken up with their men by now. Did I mention, it was a fine period?

*RV Quiz Corp conducts India's biggest Quiz Fest. You didn't know? Be ashamed. Be very ashamed.


June - White and Nerdy, still.
So I turned 20. In contrast to everyone else around me, I welcomed the 20. In contrast to how a 20 year old would be expected to behave, I ran around town, wholly excited, announcing that I'd turned 20. But it didn't really sink in then. It hit me a month later, when my brother got know I'd turned 20 and expressed shock. 'Why', I asked him, 'How young did you think I was?'. 'Not young, but dumb. You still have so much to learn...' and his voice trailed off. For this, he got a pillow shoved into his face but I can't quite shake those words off my head. There is indeed so much to learn!


July - Schism.
This period was all about Hugga Bubba Love. Many mistakes made but many more lessons learnt. What is Hugga Bubba Love, you ask?

"T-rex is the man!"
Go read that nutty web-comic. Go.


August - Get Innocuous.
On one side connections were lost ; on the other, devious connections with old mirror images were renewed.
And right in the middle, we set up the fence. Fence101 : lessons in diplomacy, courtesy okienowwhat. I can vouch for its benefits. But it is a very hard thing to implement, this diplomacy. Definitely hard for a female Gemini. And harder for a female Gemini who was born with her foot -wait,scratch that- feet in her mouth.
But there has been some visible improvement. Like the other day, I totally didn't guffaw when my friend asked me how her outrageous outfit looked.

Honest! I only just chuckled! Jeez, give me a break already.


September - The F-word.
Hair trouble.
It is not done. It is just NOT fair that guys can have longer, nicer, healthier hair than us. Than me. Yes, I do believe that the sight of long maned males is delightful, but its not particularly exciting when you are bald in comparison. They don't care, they wouldn't notice if birds laid eggs on their heads but nature doesn't seem to understand where the demand lies!
It pays to be a male, it really does.


October - Take a bow.
The Nobel Quiz was set to happen. Quiz Corp worked hard for it. It wasn't quite the show we expected it to be though. Lessons learnt, yet again. For the event, I was asked to correspond with the media.

Wait, why am I not making this glamorous?
I was the Media Representative. Heh. I have to admit, this PR job, however insignificant it might be in its overall effect, gave me the biggest thrills of the year. Heck, I'd never been this excited to make phone calls! Seeing mum's joy when she saw my name in the newspapers(in grand, 5-5cm sized articles) was full-filling, to say the least. Must thank pjux for opportunity - and for all those phone numbers!

November - Winds of change.
I , for the first time in the history of my being, have issues with Ferrari. Buying Kimi out of the sport itself? Sigh. Saying goodbye to Kimi and welcoming Schumi into another team has been tough. I still dance with all tribal joy when I listen to Ferrari Polka*. So it definitely stings, but now, it won't kill to see the Reinmeister in overalls that aren't red.

*Ferrari Polka by Cuki. Fun track,this.


December - Paint it black.
I'm writing this just before a final exam that I'm not prepared for, with a sore throat, heavy head and runny nose : can't paint with any other color.
I'm surprised none of us died of exam overdose this month. I had an exam outside of college too! The Deutsch exam. I got that German course certificate alright. After a year of working hard, coercing and waiting, the poor lady from the institution finally got me to write a small test and collect the certificate. I slacked off yet again, despite being so passionate about the language. One day though, I'll learn enough to post in German. Count on it.

And Books. Try not to judge me, but I have a serious problem with books. I like them. I want to read them. But I can-not read them. Suddenly though, there are books everywhere. Every conversation I have, I'm introduced to a bunch of book names. So I finally give in, with sincere hopes that I won't give up on the third line of the first book. Little women to The Great Gatsby, the list is ready. I'm hoping I am.
Err..Don't worry, no matter what, I'm not reading anything that might result in MLIT.


In conclusion, this year ends like it began. Some cheer, a few tears and a lot of that general confusion. In Talking Heads' style, when I compare the first month to the last, its the "Same as it ever was". No useful knowledge gained, no substantial achievements made. No milestones conquered. No, crossing that mark by weight is not counted as a milestone.

I did, however, learn a few life-lessons. Like how to sit on the fence and not taste my feet repeatedly. If I sound cryptic in this post, then I've learnt how to not use the internet for dramatics. Also, that Karma goes by a pseudonym. Karma is Chuck Norris. What goes around not only comes back around, it also roundhouse kicks you in the face! And that brings me to the most important thing I learnt this year : Chuck Norris can kick very well and I'm most definitely not Bruce Lee.


Edit : All ranting and invisible/unsuccessful attempts at humor aside, I must add, this year did bring me many smiles and cherished friendships, from January right until December. And I can not, not be thankful. Taking into 2010 nothing but goodwill and the good times, here's my toast to a wonderful year ahead! Happy and Prosperous New Year, everyone. :)


I tag Mirror Image, Vinay, Swathi, Meghana and Idle-in-Thoughts.

Of Sport and Passion.

This article happened after raking the brain for hours. Six hours. Five of those six came after 00.00 hour.
Anyway, I wrote this for a department fest magazine called Transit. The theme, hence, being 'change' or 'transition'.


Change. One knows not whether it is for good or for bad . Change is all pervading, all affecting. There are many things that change , as we grow. Grow out of our shells, grow out of our habits, grow into adults. All the while, moulding our personality, making us the people we are. And then there are those changes that we have no control over, but still make a massive impact on our lives.
As a Formula 1 fan for about ten years now, I have seen the many changes that this sport has undergone. Be it rules and regulations, new teams, departing teams or simply the change into becoming a sport with theatrics, I have been there to watch. But nothing changed me, as much as Michael Schumacher did.

Michael Schumacher drove his last Formula1 race in October, 2006. It was a breath-taking race, a spectacular display of the Meister's capabilities. Watching him drive would have filled the heart of every fan with pride. After 71 laps, it wasn't just the race that had come to an end. For most people around the world, it was the end of an era. For me, it was the day my childhood ended. I had grown up watching his shiny red car take him to the podium every alternate weekend. This man, along with the team he revived, was the constant change that my life grew around.

Michael Schumacher gave me my identity. He defined my existence as a human being , driving most of my instincts and my puerile opinions. A Schumacher victory or defeat would decide my mood for the following couple of days. Being a tomboy who rarely cried, there was, surprisingly, no resistance for tears that rolled out of my eyes when he crashed. When the same happened to his opponents though, my neighbors would have monstrous laughter echoing through their homes. Defending him or cheering for him was all I ever did. There have been many friends lost over arguments. Countless hair strands were pulled out and plenty of blood vessels threatened to burst, while I watched every race.

It might seem like taking things too far if I said his wins inspired me to do well at school, but yes, they actually did. I particularly remember a project we were asked to do, on our favorite sports person. It was the first time I worked on a project with all of my heart and soul, making helmets and wheels out of paper , scanning the internet for hours and eventually ending up with a mini-biography. The appreciation I received from my teachers only made me love this man more. There have been times when I'd vow to not watch the sport again , all because Schumacher came second and not first. Until Schumi, I wasn't one who thinks of competition. Stories of his dedication to his team and to winning, of how he worked on his car all night , would leave me in a trance. A state of complete awe which would eventually have me motivated and full of energy. I was always told, it was an absurdity to let celebrities and their exploits affect us to such an extent. But how Schumacher drove his races would always show in me and my work. And more often than not, it worked to my benefit. The era of Schumacher was and will always be, the period when I had 'the time of my life'.

Lets jump to the less inviting present. One might say the sport hasn't been drastically affected by Schumacher's retirement. Yes. Only, now there is more drama off-track than on it. If we recall the huge wave of excitement that swept the world when Michael announced a come-back earlier this year, we realise just what he did for this sport. There are many talented drivers, agreed. But no one for whom I would ignore sleep , skip work and ensure that races were not missed. There are Britons who have the whole nation rooting for them, charming Finns who never fail to spice up races , young Germans who don't stop proving themselves. But I, like many fans, still look for Schumachers in them. It is both a matter of pride as well as pain, when every driver who performs well is compared to Schumi. Pain, because no matter how good the newbie is, he is not Schumi. For Schumacher made the sport heavenly. His drives were nothing short of magical. My vocabulary restricts me from expressing articulately, the euphoria he brought to us, Schumacher fans. Michael was special. And he is irreplaceable.

So when Michael retired, I was stranded. For a while, there was nothing that could interest me or inspire me. I believed that it was the end of following the sport. That I wouldn't have anything to look forward to, week after week. That my passion for sport and enthusiasm for life would die a quick death. But three years on, I look back at his retirement as a refreshing reminder of reality. A change that was foisted upon me. After three calm years of introspection, I realize, it was not merely the person that had given me my identity, it was a whole body of ideals. Of heroism, of victory. Of dedication and will. Of simplicity and supremacy. He had been but the embodiment.

With his retirement, a defining feature of my childhood was taken away. And I didn't have a say. I knew then that it was time to grow up. Schumacher, and what he stood for , changed me as a child, helped me grow as a teen and stand by me still. I reiterate, nobody will ever affect my life, like Michael Schumacher did.



A big Thank You! to Nihal and Sid, for getting this piece and me out of our ruts.