When I was in school, my favourite subjects were geography and the science subjects – physics, chemistry and biology; I never quite liked mathematics.

But physics was my all time favourite – I totally loved it. But the funny thing is when we first started physics, I hated it. It just went beyond me, all those formulas and stuff. The teachers were complaining, and so one day my dad decided to do something about it. He told me to get dressed and sit in the car. Then he drove me to his friends place at Exhibition Road, took me up to his flat, introduced me to his friend, and said “he will teach you physics.”

His name was TD – Mangalorean guy, B.Tech in Instrumentation from IIT Bombay. He sat opposite me at the dining table and the first thing he said was ”I want you to forget everything you know”.

I remember it like it was yesterday - over the next couple of hours he taught me physics like it had never been taught to me before; and I understood everything. The man was a genius. When we were done, I asked him “when can I come to you again?”. He said “never”.

And that was it. 2 hours or so with a genius took something I hated and changed it into something I love.

I was thinking about him yesterday, about that afternoon with him. He’s a lecturer at the University of Ohio now. He visited us this June, but I wasn’t home.

I’ll never forget the look on my teachers face when she was handing out the answer sheets after the next exam – “…how did you derive these formulas like this?” Mrs. Matthews was puzzled.

And the reason I got remembering him yesterday was because of something I was thinking about – as a person, its good to know how much you can stretch yourself, the limits you can go to before you snap – in physics they call it tensile strength which is measured in pounds per square inch. In our case I guess it could just be called the capacity to endure.

I had been pushing myself to the limit. I was about to snap. Then it dawned on me that I cannot make a hole in a wall with my fists - I need a drill.

I need more time. I refuse to settle for anything less than what I know I'm capable of. Yes, I am disappointed and very, very angry with myself. But am I a coward for running away? It sure felt like it at first and it drove me totally crazy. But the more I thought about it, the more I found myself saying: I am not running away. I am retreating. I will regroup and hit them harder the next time.

It’s like Spike Milligan once said:

“One man retreating is called running away, but a whole Regiment running away is called a retreat! “

How I wish I had lives like some of you guys – where I could blog about my accomplishments at work, and the things I did last weekend, and the food I ordered for lunch today. Truth is, I don’t. I have nothing exciting or interesting to tell you. But I wonder when I read some of the happy blogs - are these people as happy as their words make them out to be? Perhaps they are; or maybe they’re just very good at hiding things, I don’t know

I do not regret any of the decisions I have taken, the choices I've made, or anything else for that matter, because just like that Paul Anka song- I did it my way. It may not have been the best way, but it was still my way.

People talk about having missed the boat, but it’s a fact that sometimes the boat stops very far from shore. And not everybody can swim. Some of us have to learn, and then swim after that boat in an attempt to catch up.

But when you do catch up, aren’t you on that boat like everybody else?

…and if that boat had to capsize, you know for sure that you’re a better swimmer than the rest of them.

Hope. The way I see it, the minute you’ve given up hope, that’s when you've really lost it. I know for damn sure that I haven’t yet.

I said I wouldn’t blog any more. Why should I subject people to this pathetic sounding bullshit? I know for a fact that I wouldn’t want to read this if I were them. There are lots of happy blogs to keep me entertained.

BFN.