Open

It's been quite a while I posted anything but about me. The site has been showing only my updates from 3 months or so but not about any faintest take on worldly affairs. The reason was I haven't been active enough. Being occupied with bundles of work at office, learning to drench down in the internal affairs of corporate; all these took me about 4 months of time.

Well, it's about time & I finally grabbed myself a book to look into. usually, I stay away from autobiographies, as they leave us uncertain about the authenticity of the point documented in them. But this one some how got me intrigued. Thanks to the foreword.

Open - by Andre Agassi.

The honest portrayal of his flaws, weaknesses & their admissions right at the beginning of the book opened a door for the most honest work I've ever come across. The way Agassi poured his heart out, blue coloured, onto 380 odd pieces of paper was hot flame burning sort of.

I always hailed Agassi as a flamboyant, easy riding tennis man the sport has ever witnessed. But there's something raw, bruised and scarred fist size being behind that stylish Nike tee he sports. 29 years of untiring hatred towards the sport he dominated. The helplessness of not knowing anything other than tennis. That helplessness, transformed into rage which had beaten Becker sort of legends. There's some ultimate empty feeling after winning everything possible in the sport, conquering every title & mounting the top, he says. True, it seemed.

14 trials all through his reign; when the costliest rackets were just given away; trophies on the racks were shattered into pieces, tiniest pieces; that bachelor pad where everything is pitch black in colour including the toilet pot in the wash room, resembling his dark phase. 14 trials to just let the sport go off his veins. 14 trials to give up abruptly and vanish like a genie. Yet, that one last title in 2006 again Bagdhatis. That one last serve of his life, serving for the championship & that's when the finish line calls him; yells at him to just drop the racket & to get onto his knees and shout that he can't do that any more. Ultimate perseverance; Super human endurance out there in the match box sized court.

Never a single second did Agassi let me loose off his clutches all through the book. I was drenched down in those furious sprinkles of honesty; just like he does under hot water for 22 minutes before that last match of his.

Yes. He raced fast cars, dated much faster models.; exploited by media, humiliated all through his life in the hands of his father. Turned into a style icon. Went bald. All these were ephemeral. These just constituted an ethereal world, which people built around him upon the pillars called anticipations.

But deep inside, a man lies, furious, honest, poke-me-you-get-that-back-in-your-face.

Any body has to let their hands down, when it's Agassi whom they are facing.