Current Reading

The book I've been reading for the past couple of weeks is called 'What I Talk About When I Talk About Running' by Haruki Murakami. I'm enjoying it. If anything, it has stoked my desire to get back to full fitness soon and train hard.

As a fellow runner, I identify a lot with Murakami's experiences while running. In case I left you guessing, that's what the book is about. I love the little bits when he throws in some of his philosophy. Here's an excerpt I loved:

"Usually when I approach the end of a marathon, all I want to do is get it over with, and finish the race as soon as possible. That's all I can think of. But as I drew near the end of this ultramarathon, I wasn't really thinking about this. The end of the race is just a temporary marker without much significance. It's the same with our lives. Just because there's an end doesn't mean existence has meaning. An end point is simply set up as a temporary marker, or perhaps an indirect metaphor for the fleeting nature of existence."

Don't Get First Class...

...Be first class!

That's what a teacher at school would say to us. Unfortunately he passed on before we got to senior school, but in many ways, his teaching has outlived him.

He taught English Literature, did Mr. Joe Sheth. One of those aristocratic teachers, he had an aura about him. An air of class and panache. His leisurely afternoon smokes in the Gent's Staffroom were commonplace, much to the chagrin of fellow teachers and most certainly the school principal. His faults notwithstanding, the man left an impression on you.

I only wish he had taught us Julius Caesar like he did for the batches 3 or 4 years senior to us. I love the play even without him teaching it to me and I can only imagine the effect his interpretation of the play would have had on me.

I loved school life, the rowdy lunch breaks in an all-boys school, playing dodge-ball, this sometimes painful game called abba doobi, volleyball, cricket, football... the works. The days we got detention for making nuisances of ourselves, the few classes that I enjoyed, art, physics (at times), english literature and a few others.

But one of the things I'll be grateful to my alma mater for is the times spent with a few wonderful teachers who were also outstanding characters.

While I may have taken the first part of Joe Sheth's quote ("Don't get first class, be first class.") a bit too seriously, it is the second part of the quote that will always be an aspiration and an inspiration for me. I didn't learn very much academically throughout my education. I was an average, or at best a slightly-above-average student. But I remember the little lessons that our teachers taught us that never there in books. And those are the lessons that I find help you through life the most. The good times and the bad. Not some Pythagorean equation to find the hypotenuse length of a right-angled triangle.

Of the many many important lessons I've learned in school, the one that is reverberating through my head these days is... Don't get First Class, be first class.

Even This Will Pass Away

I always remember this poem during highs and lows of life. Not in a cynical way, but as an objective acceptance of the ways of the world. For your reading pleasure, Even This Will Pass Away written by Theodore Tilten.

Once in Persia reigned a king,
Who upon a signet ring
Carved a maxim strange and wise,
When held before his eyes,
Gave him counsel at a glance,
Fit for every change and chance:
Solemn words, and these were they:
"EVEN THIS WILL PASS AWAY."

Trains, of camel through the sand
Brought him gems from Samarcand;
Fleets of galleys over the seas
Brought him pearls to rival these,
But he counted little gain,
Treasures of the mine or main;
'What is wealth?' the king would say
"EVEN THIS WILL PASS AWAY."

'Mid the pleasures of his court
At the zenith of their sport,
When the palms of all his guests
Burned with clapping at his jests,
Seated midst the figs and wine,
Said the king: 'Ah, friends of mine,'
Pleasure comes but not to stay,
"EVEN THIS WILL PASS AWAY."

Woman, fairest ever seen
Was the bride he crowned as queen,
Pillowed on the marriage-bed
Whispering to his soul, he said
"Though no monarch ever pressed
Fairer bosom to his breast,
Mortal flesh is only clay!
'EVEN THIS WILL PASS AWAY."

Fighting on the furious field,
Once a javelin pierced his shield,
Soldiers with a loud lament
Bore him bleeding to his tortured side,
'Pain is hard to bear," he cried,
But with patience, day by day,
"EVEN THIS WILL PASS AWAY."

Towering in a public square
Forty cubits in the air,
And the king disguised, unknown,
Gazed upon his sculptured name,
And he pondered, "What is fame?'
Fame is but a slow decay!
"EVEN THIS WILL PASS AWAY."

Struck with palsy, sore and old,
Waiting at the gates of gold,
Said he with his dying breath
'Life is done, but what is Death?"
Then as answer to the king
Fell a sunbeam on his ring;
Showing by a heavenly ray,
"EVEN THIS WILL PASS AWAY."

- Theodore Tilten

Thus spake Albert Camus...

"I had been right, I was still right, I was always right. I had lived my life one way and I could just as well have lived it another."

Couldn't have said it better.