A hundred times she fell. A hundred times she picked herself up.
I sat there watching the kid. One year old ? Give or take a month. Nappy clad, frail looking, boisterous black curls, bouncing on her head. Each time she fell, she bumped her bottom hard on the naked ground. On the table lay a jar of multi coloured sweets, which she was trying to reach for, unsuccessfully so far. "Get some sense kid, give up!" I said, more to myself then her. A small determined wisp of humanity, what gave her so much determination, i wondered. There she was again ! Heaving herself up, she stood, precariously balanced, gripping the table with small fingers, and then standing on tip toes she stretched the other hand towards the jar. This time, the table, under repeated assaults, lurched and she fell yet again. The small plastic jar, rolled over, falling conveniently in her lap. With a gurgle of pleasure, she clutched it to her. Crawling a safe distance away, she held the jar up. Turning it round and round, she watched the sweets roll around with the motion. She tried eating up the whole thing, jar and all, but it wouln't go inside her mouth. Thwacking it in frustration, she at last flung it aside and started crawling away. Unable to desist, i got up from my seat, opened the jar and offered the valiant thing a small duck shaped sweet. Giving me a big smile, she reached for it, and popped it into her mouth. "Thank you," I whispered to the fast retreating little bottom, "For teaching me a valuable lesson." I had just come to deliver a dress to her mother, but thanks to the baby, i was going back much wiser, more determined then i had come.
The next day i made my way back to the pool. Three months. Three attempts, failed ones.Three consecutive years of my life. That was how long i had spent trying to learn how to swim. It was the month of May. Peak summer. In India, that's a blazing thirty six, thirty eight degrees and the pool was already warm by the time i got into it at ten. By now, every other person, old or young, amateur or seasoned, in the pool, was giving me advice, cheering or jeering me on. Tanned to a chocolate brown, in spite of my mum's liberal lathering of sun screen all over me, i had given it my all, but to no avail. "Give up kid," said a testy old lady, whom i had splashed inadvertantly as she swam her ten lengths. As the others laughed at my mortified face, i determined that that was it. No more
A student of psychology, i had just read about learned failure. A psychological concept, that explains why people who fail, find it difficult to try again.In one experiment a dog was kept in a closed cage. After frantically trying to free itself, it realised that there was no escape and settled down in one corner, tail tucked in, defeated in attitude and attempt. After a while it was taken out and put into a cage which had a lever which when pushed would open the cage. The dog however, went straight into the corner and settled down as before, making no attempt to explore this new cage or to free itself. Maybe i was a victim of my knowledge. Because in spite of giving it my all,every year, year after year, all that had happened was that i remained desperately trying to swim a breadth, without sinking. Even the coach, had moved on, giving up on me as a lost case.
Today was going to be different. Closing my eyes, i saw in my mind's eye, the baby, getting up, the minute she fell. Repeatedly. It didn't occur to her that she could give up. Holding her image in my mind i plunged into the pool. Blanking out all else, i started out and............ Just kept going. Intent on my exertions, i was still aware of a presence beside me, swimming alongside me. Each time i'd come up for breath, a quiet voice, would say," turn your head. Good! keep going, just a few lengths more, " Exhausted, my arms motoring on, my world, a haze of pain, i finally touched the bar at the opposite end. Panting, my lungs bursting, my mouth drawing in great mouthfuls of air, i turned to look at my mentor. It was the old lady i had splashed ! Then she looked at me smiled, and started clapping. Soon, the whole pool was resounding, as all the people i had splashed/ kicked accidently, stood where they were applauding me. Beaming, my face a beetroot red, i'm sure under the tan, i bowed theatrically, before sinking underwater to do a cartwheel.
My real mentor ? That baby.
I sat there watching the kid. One year old ? Give or take a month. Nappy clad, frail looking, boisterous black curls, bouncing on her head. Each time she fell, she bumped her bottom hard on the naked ground. On the table lay a jar of multi coloured sweets, which she was trying to reach for, unsuccessfully so far. "Get some sense kid, give up!" I said, more to myself then her. A small determined wisp of humanity, what gave her so much determination, i wondered. There she was again ! Heaving herself up, she stood, precariously balanced, gripping the table with small fingers, and then standing on tip toes she stretched the other hand towards the jar. This time, the table, under repeated assaults, lurched and she fell yet again. The small plastic jar, rolled over, falling conveniently in her lap. With a gurgle of pleasure, she clutched it to her. Crawling a safe distance away, she held the jar up. Turning it round and round, she watched the sweets roll around with the motion. She tried eating up the whole thing, jar and all, but it wouln't go inside her mouth. Thwacking it in frustration, she at last flung it aside and started crawling away. Unable to desist, i got up from my seat, opened the jar and offered the valiant thing a small duck shaped sweet. Giving me a big smile, she reached for it, and popped it into her mouth. "Thank you," I whispered to the fast retreating little bottom, "For teaching me a valuable lesson." I had just come to deliver a dress to her mother, but thanks to the baby, i was going back much wiser, more determined then i had come.
The next day i made my way back to the pool. Three months. Three attempts, failed ones.Three consecutive years of my life. That was how long i had spent trying to learn how to swim. It was the month of May. Peak summer. In India, that's a blazing thirty six, thirty eight degrees and the pool was already warm by the time i got into it at ten. By now, every other person, old or young, amateur or seasoned, in the pool, was giving me advice, cheering or jeering me on. Tanned to a chocolate brown, in spite of my mum's liberal lathering of sun screen all over me, i had given it my all, but to no avail. "Give up kid," said a testy old lady, whom i had splashed inadvertantly as she swam her ten lengths. As the others laughed at my mortified face, i determined that that was it. No more
A student of psychology, i had just read about learned failure. A psychological concept, that explains why people who fail, find it difficult to try again.In one experiment a dog was kept in a closed cage. After frantically trying to free itself, it realised that there was no escape and settled down in one corner, tail tucked in, defeated in attitude and attempt. After a while it was taken out and put into a cage which had a lever which when pushed would open the cage. The dog however, went straight into the corner and settled down as before, making no attempt to explore this new cage or to free itself. Maybe i was a victim of my knowledge. Because in spite of giving it my all,every year, year after year, all that had happened was that i remained desperately trying to swim a breadth, without sinking. Even the coach, had moved on, giving up on me as a lost case.
Today was going to be different. Closing my eyes, i saw in my mind's eye, the baby, getting up, the minute she fell. Repeatedly. It didn't occur to her that she could give up. Holding her image in my mind i plunged into the pool. Blanking out all else, i started out and............ Just kept going. Intent on my exertions, i was still aware of a presence beside me, swimming alongside me. Each time i'd come up for breath, a quiet voice, would say," turn your head. Good! keep going, just a few lengths more, " Exhausted, my arms motoring on, my world, a haze of pain, i finally touched the bar at the opposite end. Panting, my lungs bursting, my mouth drawing in great mouthfuls of air, i turned to look at my mentor. It was the old lady i had splashed ! Then she looked at me smiled, and started clapping. Soon, the whole pool was resounding, as all the people i had splashed/ kicked accidently, stood where they were applauding me. Beaming, my face a beetroot red, i'm sure under the tan, i bowed theatrically, before sinking underwater to do a cartwheel.
My real mentor ? That baby.
exceptionally inspiring..great learning!
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