Hero of our times - 8

When the Israelis had the Gaza wall and the China its Great wall; and for the Germans the Berlin wall, we Indians had a wall to be proud of. He was not known for his architectural beauty exactly. But he came to be known for his grit and mental strength.

I was at school when I had this fantasy of pasting his newspaper cut out into my ID cards. No one thought it as cool. Because Dravid wasn't your kind of cool guy. He was a simple man on and off the field. Even his ads weren't flamboyant. Interestingly, he showed more toughness while in the middle than his compatriots who were tough boys in ads.

He belonged to a group who stood by their beliefs and principles when the entire team was sold out to highest fixer. He along with Sachin cultivated unquestioned reputation and the country which identified itself with the game had someone to be happy about.

He along with a handful of seniors (though not age wise ) had this onerous responsiblity to lead a young team out of sewage and salvage the pride. It would've been honourable if at least the world cup winning team showed the grace to acknowledge their contribution.</p> <p>In an age where success is confined to stats, Dravid's contribution was much more than the figures on a television screen.

My first memory is from England '99. The only three batsmen showed even an iota of international standards. Dravid and Ganguly came up game after game and he ended up as second highest scorer. He was not known for heroically chasing the targets. People preferred him getting out as the entertainment factor was low. But for a real cricket enthusiast Dravid was a joy to watch. The perfectly still head when the feet moved like a ballad was a revelation. Still without much aplomb he was careful to pace the innings.

That was a time when fitness was secondary in India . Running between the wicket was a comedy of errors where old men heaved themselves around while they were thrown down by agile fielders. But Dravid set out an example as he played all these years effortlessly running and fielding almost with no injury to his credit.

Certainly, Sachin might find his days lonely in the middle. Laxman might follow the retirement path soon. Laxman had to go through the most thankless career. I certainly feel Indians could have been a bit more respectful during the recent dark days in Australia. I didn't see any greater commitment from the so called youth brigade. How can it be justified when we say seniors ought to make room.

Besides , it might be the north - south divide which saw no support or analysis on Dravid or Laxman. When they sang praises for bludgeonin by Sehwag, we missed the silent stars on their pages. Besides the expert analysis and commentory on game has also become a rarity as it slowly moves into shorter and run plunder format.

I don't think many of the 'fans' will miss you. But Dravid, you'll always be my hero.

Hero of our times -7

34 isn’t old age for a normal man. For him life starts by then. But you aren’t a normal man. Your career ends at 30s. Then your life goes through motions. The torn ligaments, broken bones and hamstring catch up with you. You’re put on medication. The drugs, drinks, divorce and the paparazzi follow the prescribed circle.

You were peacefully living the transition. A land where football holds no relation to foot, might have been the best place for you usher in a new settled life. You still walk out there and slots in goals. The only job you are good at. Moreover, there is no frenzy, adrenaline rushes or even YouTube videos.

Then one day the white haired one comes back to you. The first time, you needed him. Your fame, money and awards, you owe it all to him. He made you the legend you are. But legends don’t fight endlessly. They have to walk away into the glorious twilight and end up in folklore. You believed your time had gone and there is nothing much in you.

But the white haired one needs you again. The people you loved needs you and so does the young group of prodigy you left behind. The voice from deep down tells you, you will not have to do it again. Not so long ago, you gave them sweat and blood. You’re no longer young. Your body can’t stand the strain; your bones can’t take the blows, your feet no longer as fast as a deer. You will never be the king you once were. Still a question lingers on ‘Why Not?’ It grows heavier everyday and soon you can no longer ignore it. You wear the red and white colours again. You walk into the armoury once again.

The whole stadium erupts into frenzy when they see you. The expectation is weighing heavily on you. You who walked away in glory may be crowned a joker today. The head is turning dizzy. The game is moving on fast. Your contemporaries are watching you from the gallery. Do you see a tinge of sympathy in them? Or is it a smirk?

The opponent sends in their guards. They are fast, agile and will not allow you in so easily. Moreover they have the attitude. Once you sowed fear in the hearts. You were too fast and crafty to beat. How much of the pace is left in you? Are you willy enough to outplay the new generation?

The seconds drag on. You feel the muscles strain and the lungs heaving for air. Do you suspect a smirk in the opponent guards? The people in the gallery still hope for a miracle from you. You vainly hope someone slots in the winner and finishes the game. Out of nowhere Song volleys a cross. The huge clock moves back and forth. Years ago Viera used to set you up for the winners. No one has a clue where Viera has ended up. The clocks moves ahead, you move forward to collect the ball. The guards are fooled. You feel the old days returning. With a deft touch you caresses the ball.

The stadium lets out a collective gasp. You look across the line. The flag still stays down. You have only a choice left- glory or doom! You glance at the position. Once this was your favorite angle. But it seems that you went in too close. You open your body. The clock stops moving. The stadium comes to a still. The guardian opens his body for the most perfect star shape he can muster. Then your magical foot touches the ball.

You are not sure which came first- was it the roar from the crowd or the ball caressing the nets! Anyway you realize you are still….

…….

……

……

…….

……

……

INVINCIBLE

Visual Collaboration

I am no particular fan of Arundhathi Roy. The only time I got close to her work was when a few of friends brought the pirated copy of ‘God of small things’ from Bangalore. I put it away after a few pages, as I found it too complicated.

Then came her article in ‘Outlook’ demanding ‘Azadi’ for Kashmir, which set my blood pressure. Back then I was a core nationalist in thinking, proud to be a part of Shining India. Then as I started reading more of leftist literature, I trudged carefully from the comfortable thought process to sticky path. Even today I am not confident or clear about my political stance. But I have learnt to respect and listen to Ms. Roy.

I have to admit, I haven’t read much of her books or essays, basically due to my impatience. But a recent statement from her sent my personal opinion on her roaring.

On a recent visit to Kerala she commented that she wouldn’t be giving her famous book ‘God of small things’ to a film maker. The reason was pretty interesting- visual colonization of minds. Remember, the young writers bollywoodize a book even before it’s out.

The writer has the time and space to convey her feelings. The reader has the time and space to assimilate it. But a script writer has only a few seconds to push the idea through. So there is a good chance for distortion. I have seen most of the classics being reduced to a parody thanks to relative incompetence. ‘Man under the iron mask’ would be the best example.

I used the word ‘relative’ as the script writer needn’t be bad in his profession. He may not be able to rise to the heights of an epic. The example of ‘Godfather’ can be an exception when Cuppola provided us with a better version of the novel.

To me it’s best to make films out of ordinary books-where there is nothing much for a reader to assimilate- or the ones in which need of visuals over power the narrative (Harry Potter ).

The other statement from Ms. Roy was more interesting. ‘The book is not mine. It was a collaboration between me, nature, silence and creatures’. At a time when the so called writers bay for the smallest change credits, she is a trendsetter.

Hero of our times......6

Living in a men’s hostel can be very edgy and itchy at times. The place can be interesting if you have the ability to thrive around crowds and when you have lots of friends to hang out with. I am a little short in both the above mentioned qualities. I love loneliness and silence to read, write and watch movies.

Hostels can be a great place to come across different kind of people from different situations and backgrounds. I love talking to people while at the same time I draw a secret pleasure by analyzing them and picturise their life, situations and fantasies.

I was back to hostel after a very long day at the bank. I decided to seek for solace at the feet of ‘idiot box’ in the common room. There was only this guy in the common room. I had found him as a very striking personality who always ran through the newspapers in the mornings and news channels in the evenings. The young people in the hostels rarely have such a routine. He struck a conversation with me by commenting on the large, old fashioned, thick glasses I wore.

The conversation turned to my hometown, our friends and the jobs. I was impressed by the language he used and the way he spoke. He gave off the impression of giving a speech. He used the best words from literature- both English and Malayalam. He looked very young and at the same time very learned.

Slowly he turned the conversation to religion. I realized I had ended up in a trap. He belonged to a version of Protestant Christian who lived with a terrible superiority complex and other Christians have to be lead shown the ‘right’ path through arguments. The last thing I would want to get into on a tired night was argument.

I made sure that I didn’t argue back. Although he seemed to be so sure of himself, he sounded so illogical. But I was fascinated by the way he spoke and the passion he generated. My tactic of staying silent worked. He did stop his religious discourse and told me his story.

Jobi is just a high school graduate. He was just an average student, but was confident of getting through to college. Sadly he couldn’t make it. He couldn’t stand the ridicule of people around and decided to learn some useful trade and went off to Chennai. He apprenticed himself to a Tamil to study welding. Life turned hell for him. He was made to do all the menial works from cleaning the shop to fetching water. His working hours started from 6 in the morning to ten at night. At nights his quarters doubled up as drinking haven for his boss. Working without protection in front of radiation made his eyes water when he tried to doze off. He sat up at nights dazed on seeing himself rot away.

I sat listening to his story, feeling sorry for myself. How I used to sulk at a job where I do not have to do anything menial and left me a good pay packet at the end of month.

After some three months, he learnt of a christian elocution competition happening back home. The prize money was huge and the competition seemed very stiff. He had to fight it off with theological students who spent best part off their life practicing the art to earn a living. He was very unsure of himself. But then a good politician-friend helped him polish off the rough edges. The other tough part was the huge distance he would have to travel for the right rounds.

The judges were mighty pleased with his raw ideas in the first round. He started climbing up the levels when he managed to get a place to stay which made his preparation easier.

As the fairytale goes, he won the competition and managed to get a job as the manager of book stores run by the management. He told me how he was surrounded by load of books with none to disturb him. He still goes off to preach gospel- but for wages.

Hero of our times....5

I have been thinking about writing this for a long time. In fact this person was the real inspiration behind the ‘hero’ series. The reason behind my hesitation was the lack of complete knowledge in the game of soccer.

I started following the English Premier League matches this season. Thanks to my good friends Vattu and VR, I started watching closely Arsenal matches. I may be found lacking in knowledge in technical aspects. So I will dwell in the resource management skills and approach of the person I consider as one of the best football manager of our times- Arsene Wenger.

For the ones who haven’t heard of EPL, it’s the most competitive, professional and marketed sporting league in the world. The managers will be highly pressurized to achieve their objectives. The football manager in EPL holds the toughest job in the world. He has to keep the players, the management and the fans happy at the same time.

Every team cannot afford the single objective of winning the league. The top 4-5 teams will be aiming for the league, the next 5 teams will be aiming to break into the top 4 and the last 5-6 teams will be on the look out to stay clear of relegation. (I just gave an idea in general it’s much more than that). I would also request you not to compare it with Indian Premier League. Watch the EPL for once to understand the magnitude.

As the oil rich Arab sheikhs and Russian oligarchs started looking out for costly toys, they found the English teams the best choice. The managers, fans and the management were too happy to sell off the teams to these rich playboys. The new owners happily paid astronomical sum to ensure that world’s best played in their team. So the manager’s job was made easy. He got the players he wanted. Unmindful of the piling debts, players were brought for huge sum to warm the benches. In the process many youth academies became defunct and the authorities had to change the rules for the sake of English soccer.

Arsenal was never owned by a single entity. It could be the only one among the top 6 to be run by a family. So when rest of the title contenders spends close to billions for building a team, Arsenal couldn’t afford to do that. When Wenger took over charger he started buying the unproven players for cheap money and thus started the unforgettable era in English Premier League- ‘The Invincibles’. They dominated the league with the magical, beautiful football. It was unimaginable to play football in the beautiful way in EPL. But Wenger’s Arsenal was uncompromising in its way. That was the Arsenal way of winning.

There started a cup winning and record breaking spree. But the toughest challenge was yet to come for Wenger. Arsenal had to move in to a bigger stadium. Without a rich financier this would have been suicidal. Any sensible man would have abandoned the ship. But Wenger was already on his way to prepare the Arsenal to face a new future.

The team from ‘Invincibles’ were sold off one by one. He started a huge youth policy. Talents were scouted from all over the world and they were developed in the Arsenal Academy and later given a chance to play the big game. This brought in more savings and groomed up a bunch of youths who went on to write history.

Imagine the struggles of a man to undo his own legacy. But then is legacy just the number of times we win in the field?

The youth policy has taken a lot of time to flourish and bear fruits. Wenger has been drawing flak for continuous 5 dry years. But no great manager would dream of doing it. Take any manager from top 4-5 and check out their stats on how many young players have come out of their Academy to play in the league. The record would be dismal.

I was privileged to see the Arsenal team maturing into an entity independent of any stars. While the other teams found it difficult to go on when one of their stars fell ill, Arsenal fought on with more than half the team on injury list.

But never have we seen Wenger deploying the negative tactics to win. The victory always happened the Arsenal way. Even the top managers feared to fail and deployed some of the most infamous techniques to win. The game against Barcelona showed the valiance with which the young players fought should be written in history books. But then history books have only the name of victors in it.

No player in Arsenal has been thrown off the team just because he had a bad game. As long as there is fire in his belly Wenger gave the players chance to achieve his potential. Yes, it has been at the cost of winning. But isn’t that what ‘team’ is all about? ‘Team’ is not about the number of victories but ‘team‘ stands for sticking together when going gets tough.

Bottom Line: I could have written miles and miles. But I choose to shorten this as most of the Indians would be unaware of the technicalities of the game called ‘football’. But I work in a corporate environment. I have never seen a person stubbornly sticking to the principles he believes in. And there is absolutely no one who stands up for his team mates. Wenger taught the world of thinking for the good on long term. Wenger taught the world the meaning of FAITH and VICTORY.

Thanks to VR and Vattu for the valuable inputs! When I post this, I am certain I haven’t done justice to the legacy of Wenger.

Hero of our times....4

I was quite surprised to see Pradeep again after a long time. The last time I saw him was on the screen. It was a small scene in a not-so-successful movie.

I was plainly happy to see him. We were both on the middle of our routine work-out. So we couldn’t talk much. But the few sentences he said made me really happy in meeting a man different from others.

Pradeep had been a movie enthusiast right from his college days. He was obsessed with making it to the screen. He had to sacrifice his studies a bit. He had done choreography for a song which went on to become a hit.

Rest of the story, Pradeep is going to narrate for you:

I come from a typical Syrian conservative Christian family. We watch movies rarely and have no relatives/friends in the industry.

The movie industry is a jungle. No matter how talented you are, unless you have the right people at the right places you are not going to make it. It’s a bad man’s world. The people with genuine talent would be too arrogant to approach. The untalented ones would have established themselves through the back door mean. Back door includes a wide variety of activities like pimping, pulling down people close to you and a little bit of bribing. The second category would be too crooked to approach.

Filmdom is not a honest man’s world. You will have to play a sycophant right from the top to bottom. If you are yet to establish yourself even the insignificant person can bring you down. Right from the story board to the editor’s desk to the first screening you will have to fight continually from being eliminated by the fittest. So your primary struggle is to get into the good books of everyone. Then there are people who discourage you, and persuade you to go back home.

It’s difficult to keep your value system intact in the fight. Compromising a bit in what you believe in can earn you rich rewards. But that’s the last thing I would want to do.

Thankfully, my wife understands my passion. In fact this was one condition I kept before marriage. I have to keep my job intact while I hunt for the chances. Besides I will have to monitor my physique.

Every time I see a silver lining on the horizon, I realize that it was just an imagination. But hopefully I will get a break through.

Guys, rarely do we see a person with a real ambition. Chasing dreams are not easy. That too when you have family obligations and the principles that you believe in to hold you back.

So let’s wish Pradeep the very best and pray that his opening will happen soon. I am looking forward to announce the happy news in my blog.

Hero of our times.....3

Shashi Tharoor has been rocking the country ever since he made his first appearance as the UN diplomat. He is sure to rock for many more years. Hailing from his constituency doesn’t make me fond of him. But he never ceased to amuse me.

Shashi shot into fame when he decided to run for the UN-Secretary post. He has always been apple of Manmohan’s eye. But all the big plans Manmohan had for him went down the drain when Manmohan’s buddy-in-arms, Bush, said ‘NO’.

The next big ambition Manmohan had for Tharoor was to put him in the Parliament. Of course, he had to face some bitterness from fellow Congressmen. But the rumor mills had predicted Shashi running for the election well before the announcement. Thus Shashi, who was running business in Dubai after the UN stint, came down to our poor place to raise it to the pedestal of glory.

Sonia and Manmohan stood their ground when Shashi got his seat in Thiruvananthapuram. But the traditional Congress bigwigs were mighty pissed. Two prominent Congress leaders filed their nominations as rebel candidates. This would have proved crucial as Shashi’s sure votes would be split into three. Shashi got into a closed door meeting with the two. This was the first rabbit he pulled out of the hat. Both the strongmen withdrew their nomination without a grumble and pledged their never ending loyalty to Tharoor. To this day I wonder: What happened behind the doors?

Those were the times Obama was sweeping America off its feet. Shashi’s campaign created ripples in Mallu hearts. First of all it seemed he brought off a few newspapers and Television channels. Day after day papers carried articles, photographs and clips on him. He captured every imagination. In every street, election workers distributed beautiful post cards .

People dreamt of electing an MP who speaks English in American accent, writes English books, tweets and has fancy ideas. He was extremely good looking. Every woman from the age of 14-70 dreamt of shaking his hands. His opponents stood no chance as he was elected by a huge margin.

And soon after he was appointed MoS for external affairs. That didn’t please the old guard. It is quite abnormal to put in a man with no experience in a crucial post which should have gone to a party faithful. But little did they know that abnormalities were just about to begin.

Tharoor taught the Indians that Ministers should live in dignity when he refused to stay in a guest house (the practice followed) and went for a five star accommodation as the guest house didn’t have gym or privacy. He was forced to vacate when media gave enough publicity about the minister staying in a five star hotel for months on end. Well, this was his first wrong move. He expected Delhi media would be kind to him just like the ones down there in his constituency. The Finance Minister requested co-operation when Tharoor refused to oblige.

For those who thought that tweet was just an election stunt, Tharoor proved them wrong by tweeting more fiercely than usual. Tharoor tweeted about everything- his breakfast, views, Sonia Gandhi . He didn’t mind ruffling a few feathers. He called the ‘untouchables’ the names he preferred. This amused many youths as he got the label as one of the fearless politician in battle with the demi-gods.

The Tharoor magic didn’t stop there. Tharoor played India’s Sarkozy when he called his old business friends to help him rule the country. He forgot about the Pradesh Congress leaders. Their demands were ignored or overlooked with a Tharoor-smile. And the war scarred ones got ready with the swords to draw the first blood.

The former diplomat even forgot the importance of protocol when he gave his own version of Indo-Pak relations even before the talks began. This jeopardized the entire process in Saudi.

Tharoor not only provided the stunning moments in political circles but also in the social circle of Delhi. The 50 year old Tharoor was already married twice and had a couple of kids when he walked in with the NRI Kashmiri beauty, Sunanda. The papers who gave him the luxury of privacy till then on his family life jumped in to the speculation game.

Together they worked for getting a IPL team and together they were hunted down. They will make a great pair in coming days.

And Mr. Shashi, as you have the burden of Ministry has been removed from your shoulder please concentrate on things you promised during the election. Even if you fail to achieve anything, you can put the blame on State government. I will help you in refreshing your memory.

a) Make Thiruvananthapuram the Barcelona of East

b) Solve the drinking water shortage

c) Clean up the Parvathy Puthan River

d) Metro rail

e) Huge fly overs, wide roads

f) Vizhinjam port

Enough work to occupy your time for another four years.

Hero of our times.....2

If you have money OR brains you can become a doctor. If you are unlucky OR stupid, you can become an IT engineer. But believe me it’s the toughest to become a politician.

The Indian media gives positive coverage only for cricket and Cinema. The politicians and policemen find themselves at the other end of the stick always. Thanks to the overdose of negative reporting the bad guys got more coverage and we are left with real incompetent and corrupt leaders to rule us.

As the era of liberalization rolled on, the middle class Indians had more money power. We started dreaming of Saville clad, Oxford educated politicians and leaders. The picture of Dhothi clad, pan chewing, uneducated ones got confined to the Indian comics and movies.

The parties sensed the change in mood and cultivated icons- people from movies, sports, young ones with glamour. When Soniaji abdicated the highest throne of power, the chair of Prime Minister, for the demure Manmohanji we couldn’t hide the delight. The share market sky rocketed seeing the father of liberalization in the driver’s seat. We are getting a simple, well-dressed, respected, untainted man as our Prime Minister. Besides he is educated and has taught in the top universities. Indeed the perfect concoction for the Mr. Prime Minister.

Well he carried off in style during the first term. His speeches in the turbulent sessions of Lok Sabha has been glorified by the media. And in his second term he has been showing some iron in his spine. He has told the party more than once ‘Go to Hell’.

I just love this man. He doesn’t give any Indian, even his grumpy opponents chance to hate him. I am going to put down a few reason why he should be given the highest honor any Indian can get (not the Presidency), Bharath Ratna.

1. If the poster boy of BJP, Atalji, can be eligible, anybody can.

2. He has risen above all the partisan politics, when he benevolently entitled Pakistan as our little cousins. So as elder one in the family we must act responsible and make peace whatever the pranks they play. He went ahead and admitted India has been naughty on Balochistan.

3. ‘Trust’ is the weak point of Manmohanji. When he puts trust in someone he expects them to keep their word. But sadly he doesn’t know that Clintons, Obamas and Bushes haven’t been related to Punjab even remotely. These wise guys give India a Desi version of nuclear agreement and passes a different one in their Senate. But still our Manmohanji hasn’t lost his faith in the beloved Americans.

4. Our Manmohanji literally obeyed Obama (and Bush) when he stalled the gas pipeline project with Iran. Now China is pulling the strings for the same through Pakistan.

5. Manmohanji was the first PM to say ‘All Indians love you’ to Bush. Even Bush’s closest ally, Tony Blair didn’t give him Britain’s love. Now the US government has agreed for a nuclear deal with Pakistan. Now Manmohanji has to declare his love to Obama too.

6. For this nuclear deal that never happened, the government was on the verge of fallimg apart. Who can forget Manmohanji spirited speech in the Parliament. All for nothing.

7. The crowning moment for our PM was when the Padma awrds of the year was announced. He felt the fellow Sikhs had been ignored since Independence. So he nominated two eminent personalities.

Sant Singh was nominated because he kept beautiful Russian models as his secretaries. He was more than happy to share them with visiting Indian diplomats.

Harbhajan Singh was nominated as he created no trouble for batsmen. The biggest achievement was motivating Andrew Symmonds with encouraging words (in Punjab calling one’s mother choosy words is considered as an encouragement).

8. Manmohanji savvy friend and Home minister has come up with a startling discovery. Jihadis are no longer a threat for India. The biggest threat are the Maoists. Interestingly they are home grown terrorists with no proven assistance from a foreign power, The ministers completely forgot to mention countless MoUs signed with mining companies, thus deriding poor villagers their home and livelihood.

9. It seems no one bothered to inform Manmohanji that price for essential commodities has been increasing all the 6 years he was in office. He was under the impression that people are eating electronic items while they are hungry.

10. His best friend and disciple, Karzai, is planning to join the Taliban

Sadly Soniaji is distancing herself more and more from thee party.

Hero of our times...1

From his childhood Pappu had been an avid reader of books. He grew up as a rebel. But he lived in an era when the youth had become disillusioned with the ideological vaccum created by the independence era generation. August 15, 1947 had given them high hopes for a better tomorrow. But their hopes were crashed by a corrupt system.

He was a member of neighborhood library and did many plays in the local cultural community. He had started writing at an early age but could never overcome his shyness to publish them.

As expected he did very well in the high school. He did exceptionally well in the language subjects. He went with his father to get admitted to college. Literature was his dream destination. With his marks he could easily secure an admission.

While waiting for an audience with the Principal, his father met his old friend, Ayyappa Panicker. AP had recently got an award for his poems. He was very well known in the literary circles. On learning that he wanted to put his son in literature, AP took Pappu’s father aside. AP explained the difficulties of securing a job with a literature degree. While as science degree had become the trend of the season. It was easy to secure jobs, go for higher studies, go abroad etc. A literature student could become a teacher or professor with much luck and bribes. There is a good chance he will roam around the streets unshaven and hungry.

Any ways his father acted very quickly. Before Pappu could protest, he found himself in a chemistry class.

Chemicals were never his cup of tea. He sat at the back benches reading through the great literary works he got from the library. As long as he was not a bother his teachers didn’t disturb him. He soon grew to be a nuisance, getting into arguments with his teachers. Some of the orthodox teachers lavishly cursed him.

Pappu joined state radio as a presenter. He befriended the literary geniuses, weekly publishers and others of his wavelength. Slowly people started realizing his abilities. He managed to get his first novel published. That was very well received and he won a national award for it.

Encouraged by his friends, he quit his job and started writing scripts for films and then moved to direction.

Pappu grew on to become on the greatest Malayalam director ever. His films became the bench mark for Malayalam industry. Movie buffs, like me, still think of him with pride.

Ladies and gentlemen introducing to you my favorite Malayalam director- Padmarajan. Here you can read one of my first post about him.

Afterword: Whatever the situation you are in, with a bit of hard work and luck, you can reach your destinity