The Olympians:

 Even a new mirror is bound to show only the old face!

From “Images”

When an individual or a team wins a medal, not an issue whether it is a gold, silver or bronze variety, the Nation, State, City, Town, Street and the households erupt in joy. Everyone feels, as though it is a personal achievement. If lucky, this happens once in four years. The four yearlong, strenuous preparation of the individual or team, that preceded the event, is known only to the involved households. Media blitz and governmental support gets talked about in public places, till such time, another event appears on the horizon, to replace the hurrah of the bygone Olympics.

But, like the exception to the rule, there is a type of Olympians, who wish to earn a medal every day. This sport is not being on the list of approved games, does not deter them. Since these ‘sports persons’ lack the where withal, never succeeded in lobbying with the National or International Olympic Committees, for a chance. As in sports, they believe in playing it, for their own enjoyment and if endorsed would whole heartedly accept it! Since acceptance had not come their way, this type of ‘Olympians’ have devised ingenious ways. Close-knit siblings, likeminded or forced-to- side with relatives and friends, under the threat of ‘with me or with not ‘, are roped in as sponsors and active participates.

Except for the Arctic and Antarctic regions, the siblings and their close relatives and friends live outside the Motherland. Be it education leading to employment or only employment, the foreign currency signs could be seen hanging behind them, like a halo. Instead of enlightenment, here the halo signifies enrichment. One or two of the brood did not join the flight, staying fixed in the native. With Google, X (formerly Twitter), Facebook, LinkedIn, WhatsApp, Talk-to-me and a host of electronic highways keep them close and at a call away. After all, for the closeness of heart, distance is just a matter of perspective.

Here comes the kicker- the separation distance is bridged by travelling through the memory lanes, unmindful of bystanders and other traffic, overlooking signals. The sad part of the story is, they do not want to upgrade their often-travelled memory lanes. They do not even want the bystanders to change and don't let go off the jumping-the-signal habit. Here, a little explanation, on the signal jumping habit, would be of help - these Olympians don’t think twice to hop from one conversation to another, even if it happens to be a scholarly discussion. Emotional drought and affinity to mundane things!

Thinking and talking, within the box, is the Olympic game that is played, when siblings or relatives comes home for a brief roost. As soon as they land, a hectic schedule for temple runs, holy dip in not so holy waters, medical runs and family functions is drawn. The resident sibling is affectionately drawn into this whirlwind tour. Feeling suffocated and irritated by the chatter of memory lane anecdotes, the man or woman at the wheel of the vehicle reacts in frustration; honks the horn or burns rubber without reason and unsuccessfully tries to stop the deluge. For a larger audience, these Olympians prefer family functions, as an ideal stage to conduct their symposia.

For ordinary, resident mortals like us, falling hair, receding hairline and going bald is a universal phenomenon. But for this effervescent group of siblings, the phenomenon and the underlying root causes are unique. To support their assertion, notwithstanding your disinterest, they will explain with the help of their 300 years old genetic tree. Still on this ‘hairy’ subject, the Olympians shake the genetic tree to quote examples, with detailed timelines, for greying and falling of hairs, receding hairline and up to becoming a bald head. The passion with which they describe how the baton has been passed on, leaves the listener scrambling to understand how this natural occurrence is unique for that particular genetic tree! 

The age-old signatures of hanging bags under the eyes or crow feet guarding the eyes or wrinkles on the skin is another fertile topic, because now the ‘hen and chicks’ game can include many players - parental generations, generations of relatives who have had or are having any of this 'hall mark'. Once again, the family tree is placed before anyone who dares to doubt.

Clinging to the past and giving a re-run of the same audio clip with on stage performance, will surely transport the unsuspecting, to a movie theatre. The mere mention of 'mirror' is enough to start the ‘mirror in the attic’ game- details about a Belgium mirror the great great grandfather bought and how after migration it has found a place in the attic, among cobwebs. The build-up makes one to doubt whether the factory closed down immediately, after producing this one and only family heirloom! Since it did not aid the flow of the nostalgic narrative, the vanishing coating at the back of the Belgian mirror, became the feed to selective amnesia.

The episodes do not end here.  The Olympians happily open the listeners' eyes, before or after an eye checkup, to the world of glass for spectacles. Like a freight train with failed brakes, they move on crushing the grade of glasses you bought, just now. The durability of their great grandmother's pair of spectacles will be used to hammer the nail. By these sweeping comments, they manage to convey another uniqueness- that the family tree speaks, pokes its nose to happily trample over others’ feelings.  A glass is a fragile thing that needs careful handling, even more so, when the Olympians are around. This is all about the ‘eyes, glasses and tears’.

As the Olympians move as a pack, the narratives come out with different voice overs, one trying to outdo the other vocally. Generally speaking, it is tiresome to keep the audio going on for ever. But the clan tirelessly claims and credits it to their unique gene-pool and urges you to count it as a boon and not a bane.

Now, over to the game of ‘scare the health out of you’. If you happen to have a band-aid on your hurt little finger, any member of the clan will seize the ball and take the game away from you. The Olympians will commence the game by asking, 'wash-proof or ordinary' and take the narrative right into an operation theatre and ICU. Just you name any injury, or illness, they will recite an encyclopaedia of diseases, suffered by a member of the clan! Maybe, the 300-year-old family tree, has much more pages devoted, in the encyclopaedia!

The unwary, not getting the clue, persisting to describe how his/her pinky finger got injured, must be ready to hide from the Brahmastra - 'my distant relative underwent a surgery for removal of an aneurysm, which incidentally my great grandmother also had, not one but two!' No doubt, the listener gets to walk away out of ICU alive and kicking his/herself. Of course, after looking at the family tree, now the wisened listener, maintains a tactical silence, fearing a lecture on A-Z diseases. If the Olympians do not touch upon certain diseases, it is not definitely out of disrespect to side line those diseases. It only means that the family tree did not bear those fruits!

The Olympians are experts in the field of psychology, paranormal and building of highways to spiritual kingdom, for a blessed after life. The experience, though a little far-fetched, will be like what you get with ‘a buy one and take the shop free offer’! Getting a whiff of someone struggling with present difficulties, bush-telegraph alerts the entire clan and each one hurls a suggestion, in person or through their never silent social media chatter, projecting a holistic view of the family tree in the background!

The Olympians game will not be complete without playing the ‘emotional monopoly chorous’ among the siblings. The simple verse is to heap praise on each other overlooking faults. if possible, all should collectively shine the favourable light on their children irrespective of shortcomings.  When do they keep the wise counsels to themselves? The Olympians become Ostriches and bury their heads in the sands of Sahara, when it involves a member of the clan.

Are you wondering why Sahara and not any other place? By this time, you should have guessed the answer - simply because one from the family tree might have done it! Once, an ostrich from the clan buried its head in the river sand, which with poetic license has become The Sahara Desert! Wondering why this narrative and what is the connection with the narrator?

Imaginch sat helplessly unable to decide on an option, from among ‘to be sad' or 'to pity' or 'to walk away from it all'. The narrator being his friend, he decided to mentally tick the box - "none of the above." He chose the safest approach – to become an Olympian’s Ostrich!