400 Meters of Life

The following is a page from the diary of Prerna Jindal, India’s leading athlete who had won several Olympic medals for the country by the age of 20. She faced her first loss ever in a 400 meters hurdle event on June 18, 2019 during the Apex International Sports meet.

July 22, 2020

Dear Diary,
Coach Naidu used to say “You win only when you believe that you can win.” I wish he was alive today to rebuild my belief in myself. I have lost everything I had: my will to win, my belief in myself and my happiness.

When I was very young, Mummy used to say “There’s nothing in this world that you can do which can change my love for you. I love you, and I will always love you!” I still remember the time when I won my first athletics gold medal in school; mummy smiled at me and hugged me, but she didn’t say a single word of appreciation. After every medal that I won at the Asian Games, Olympics and the Apex Games, while the world applauded at me, mummy just held my hand and smiled with the same intensity, with the same brightness in her eyes, and hugged me with the same passion. Although after every medal that I won, I hoped for just one word of appreciation from her, I was always glad that she never said those words. Her silence reassured me that there is at least one person in this world who loves me just for being Prerna, and not the famous athlete Prerna Jindal. “Mummy loves me,” I used to believe, “irrespective of what or where I am, she will always love me.” This belief was the foundation of everything: my happiness, my will to win, my belief in myself and my success. Despite of all the money and fame that I had gathered, this conviction of being loved was the most precious asset I had.

June 18 was my second biggest loss in life. The first was when I lost Papa at the age of five, and the second was this. The world thinks that the reason Prerna Jindal cried that day was that she lost a race for the first time in her life, such fools they are. “Wining and losing are like the two sides of this coin that we call sports, so just put in your best and that’s all there is”, said Coach Naidu when I had first met him. On June 18, this statement echoed in my mind immediately after the race. I really wanted to win that race just like every other race, and was slightly upset when I lost, but a deeper and far more thought occupied my mind: as I walked towards the changing room, I realized that for the first time in life I would walk to mummy after a loss. I imagined her smiling with the same intensity and saying “It’s okay Betaa! It doesn’t matter if you lost; you did your best”, with a warm hug. I realized that it would further strengthen my belief in Mummy’s love for me, and so this realization made me really excited as I ran towards the changing room. But when I stood before her, she did not smile and didn’t say anything at all. The expressions on her face were dark; she stared at me with biting coldness for the next few minutes, and then turned around and quickly walked out of the room in silence. And in the days, weeks and months that followed, everything changed. Mummy was never the same again, and I began to feel like a liability. As I said, June 18 was my second biggest loss in life. The first was when I lost Papa at the age of five, and the second was this… when I lost Mummy.

For the last one year, what have I not done to make up for my loss? Every single day, I have practiced more than I’ve ever practiced in my life. I have won so many Olympics medals in the past, and after such a great practice, I should be damn sure that I will again win this year. But despite everything, I am not being able to believe in myself. During this whole year, all the things that mummy used to like about me have become my acts of immaturity and annoyance to her. For every single small household mistake that happens, she blames me, and leads the conversation to the loss that I faced last year. I have begun to hate myself. I wish I had never participated in my first race, and would be just another Indian girl. What about the line of medals hanging in my cupboard? If Mummy wanted me to win them all so badly, why did she never say a single word to show that she did? Why did she say that she would love me no matter what happens? Vinay uncle says that Mummy still loves me, and it’s just her concern and worry for my future that has made her harsh. I pray that he is right, but I just can’t bring myself to accepting the fact that to Mummy, the importance of my career is more than that of my happiness. Everyone tells me and expects me to understand her, but shouldn’t she try to understand me at all? Which one of us is the mother, and which is the daughter? Every day, I feel an unbearable pressure over myself to win the upcoming Olympics race, but how will I perform if my mind is not free? Instead of being with me by my side to cheer me up, Mummy is right inside my head looking at me with her cold eyes trying to push me to victory with her fury. I wish she knew that this fury can make me practice, but it is only my belief in myself that can make me win. What if I even win? What will that bring? It will surely bring mummy’s smile and love, but I will never get back the conviction that my mother loves her daughter, and not the athlete Prerna Jindal. I have lost my most precious asset, and I am never getting it back.

I am trying really hard to win this upcoming race, just to see Mummy smile. So what if I am not happy? I want to keep her happy at any cost. She is after all, my Mummy, and I love her! I wish coach Naidu was alive! I guess I am all alone in this hurdle race called life. Dear diary, please wish me luck.

Yours truly,
Prerna.

Comments

EvilSlim said…
Let me be frank right here. YOU are definitely improving as a writer. Your knack of conveying the usually 'unsaid' and 'unspoken' things do strike a chord somewhere.

Comments, if any, would be that your posts tend to focus on the depressing side of life where each loss is interpreted as a major one. I wonder how well you would convey a fuller picture.

AFAIK, life is too short to take such a melancholic stand.

Cheers.
Unknown said…
grt writing.....u improved a lot...this one really is a awesome piece of work....
Unknown said…
Same line of thought for more than half a dozen posts now..though each post comes with an improved style and is more impactful..but as evilslim pointed out..u dwelling on the depressing side of life more..

Piece of advice..u r far more creative to just explore one dimenion of your thoughts, try alternatives..

A query: When did Coach Naidu die? When Prerna wishes that he was still alive so many times in the post, how come he wasnt mentioned as one of her losses?

By the way, what inspired you to write this article? Cant see you correlating with either of the three characters or for that matter, Uncle Vinay [:P]

Overall, a nice read and a real morale changing post depending on the mood u read it in (he he..after all it can motivate and demotivate as well :P)
Mayank said…
@ Evilslim and Kapish: It is not the depressing part of life that I like to focus on, but on the often neglected complexity of human emotions. Also, I believe that "Anyone who has walked through darkness knows the true value of light." So, if one realizes how dark life can get, he will learn to value what he has while he has it. And that is why I have put a light on the darker sides of life.

Also, this is not a story that I or anyone else is telling, but a page from the diary that Prerna herself writes in. So, it is not necessary to for her to tell who Coach Naidu was or why did he die. the same goes for uncle Vinay.

Characters are all symbolic, look at the deeper picture and ask yourself who Uncle Vinay is? Rationalism, Society... or something else? Who is Coach Naidu? A bright past, gone hope, God... or something else? You know the answer better than me.

BTW, the past blogs were hugely about somethings else, read them again if you don't remember.
Unknown said…
Really grt piece...
I feel you should make a short movie on this..
Anonymous said…
Pretty nice piece, i specially like the part here Prerna questions about who of the two is the mother... havent read your other posts but i liked your style on this one
Believer said…
Awesome post man!! great style of writing. What made u write it?
Karamyog said…
nice post!

and yes.. i dont thnk its depressing or whtever..
Anonymous said…
Complicated emotions put in words... wasn't able understand the whole point of this post but still liked it... complicated .. huh !
Anonymous said…
As close to life as this story gets, and that too with a very modest tone..i think it won't be wise to tag it as a story....keep up the good work!
Unknown said…
A nice piece of your mind! May your rest in peace now :)
has a very ethereal and haunting quality about it... an excellent piece... :)
Mantri said…
Could we now have the mother's version of the events ? I am sure her diary too will capture her angst as Prerna's does .Keep posting .
Anonymous said…
i read ur post! it's too good!excellent style of putting ur thoughts into words. above all the language is simple and lucid. i loved it! hny, this post will definitly serve d purpose for which it is written. thanks SH
Mayank said…
@ Anonymous # 2: Thanx a lot! Now that you have found it good, I don't need comments from anyone else at all! And I'm sure it will do what its meant to do. :)
EvilSlim said…
Not that the reply was taken in a derogatory tone, but what you intended to write, or what you started out writing might be totally different from what actually turns up as a blog.

And as far as I can see, they all carry the same gloomy tone though they do convey a subtly different message each time(please note 'subtly' here).

And I am truly glad that people are finding ur posts a good read. Keep em comin bro..
K said…
Great post Mayank. I couldn't help reading the comments you received either. Just to bring out a fact rarely acknowledged: If you see most of the literary prize winners and their work, they stragely revolve around the 'gloomy' side of life. I'm not sure why, it might be because human beings love their pain a little more than their loves itself.

In anycase, keep up the good work.

Popular posts from this blog

Rendezvous with 'Her' - Part 2

Solitary Walker