Badminton Tournament - Part 3 The Manifestation

 This is a story of manifestation.

We lived on a hillside. Being the son of a government official and living in a remote village, expenses were minimal—water, electricity, and fresh air were all free. Plus, we used to get the worst old items from the society stores. There was no connection to the cities; everyone lived in a spirit of good cooperation, in a village that experienced landslides every single year.

There was a club there. It originally started as a place for officers to play cards, but soon it had a continuous football ground, a table tennis court, and an indoor badminton court. Since my father had a fair bit of sportsmanship, he never scolded me for going out to play.

Everyone used to go for table tennis. My father used to tease it by calling it "egg game" (may be tt balls looks like egg). If you played well there, you could make it straight to the state level, and you would even get 30 bonus marks on your board exams. However, I wasn't interested in that.

Coming to the main point—badminton. My father taught me the first strokes. Then, I would wake up early and go around 4:00 to 5:00 AM. My father was the club secretary, so we had the keys ourselves. Back then, we played with original feather shuttles that wouldn't even last a single game. Since it was through the club, there was no cost either.

Every period of life had a different sport, and for my childhood, it was badminton. I played tournaments at the school level. Later on, due to football, carrom, and other things, my connection with badminton faded away.

Manifestation started during my time at my old company. There were outdoor and indoor courts there. I started participating in tournaments just for fun, but I developed a fierce competitive streak. I have broken three to four rackets out of frustration. 

There was a champion there who used to win every single category. He would casually team up with a girl to play mixed doubles. Once, it was his own child's birthday, and he had promised his daughter that he would bring home the trophy no matter what. True to his word, he took that cup home.

That was when I realized that if we genuinely try manifestation, it works.

Back then, returning home meant facing mockery. The only question I'd get was, "How many rackets did you break today?" There wasn't a single word asking, "Did you win?" Is it wrong to play a bit aggressively? After losing year after year there, the fierce determination to win started taking root. I networked with a lot of people and managed to form teams. Due to injuries and poor performances, we didn't even make it past the quarter-finals. That day, I resolved in my mind to at least reach the quarter-finals of a major tournament.

Years passed. I used to play at a court near my home. There was a Telugu champion there. By playing with him, I picked up a few trick shots. Then, slowly, through friends from the association, I started playing more, and my game improved.

In between, I tried learning various wrist tricks by watching YouTube. The only result was getting inflammation in my wrist; nothing else worked.

As usual, I played in association tournaments and kept losing. It was only recently that the morning group was formed. I started playing just for fun, but there were tournaments all the time. Mostly, it ended in defeat.

However, I used to practice the manifestation process of looking into the mirror and winning. But I had only been playing according to the flow of the game. I firmly resolved in my mind to change that and assert dominance instead.

This time, it's a new battle—a triples format with 2 men and 1 woman. Since I managed to find some time, I put together a good team, practically begging people if needed. We practiced 2-3 times, and I realized we had enough ammunition to at least reach the quarter-finals.

When the fixtures came out, it was a group full of champions—both veterans of the past and newly emerged powerhouses. I knew I had to defeat these powerhouses to at least secure second place.

Despite many setbacks, we won our group matches and reached the quarter-finals in first place. I went home and announced the news. This time, there was no mockery. After all, if you reach the semi-finals, you are guaranteed a medal. Who can I even share this joy with? How many years of waiting has this been?

There wasn't a massive crowd. After all, those who lose tend to avoid hanging around this area. Looking around, the number of people mocking or teasing me was very low. I think that gave me some positive energy.

We won the match without too much struggle. In the semi-finals, we were up against a formidable team. I sent a message home. There wasn't much response; they probably figured there was no hope anyway.

I made up my mind: no matter how anyone else plays, I will play and make my team win. We won the first game and lost the second. We fought back and clinched the deciding third game.

And just like that, we made it to the finals for the very first time! Having originally aimed just for the quarter-finals, I thanked God for reaching the finals. Both of my partners played their hearts out. However, we couldn't quite shine in the finals—we pushed the first game up to 19 points, but the second one slipped away from our hands. Still, we got a medal! No one is going to mock me anymore. My name has been written in golden letters.

There is nothing in life that you cannot achieve if you set your mind to it. It takes time, but the goal is what matters, not just the path.

We are also somebody, and we just need to show it when the opportunity arises.

I dedicate this blog to everyone striving for manifestation. Let us also win; keep waiting for our moment.

The End...