Rupesh Gajurel

Eight years ago, while watching a circus on TV where I saw a guy juggling flaming torches, I said to myself, “Dude, I’ve got to learn that.” Though I haven’t mastered to juggle with flaming torches, I did learn juggling tennis balls, as well as potatoes, onions and a whole lot of vegetables we keep in our pantry!

But I must confess juggling really isn’t my favourite pastime — tossing objects into air isn’t as intriguing at nineteen as it was at eleven. Besides, it doesn’t get you any chicks. (Damn, I should have learned to play the guitar instead!) But in these eight years juggling taught me something different: it taught me about life. Thus I can’t help drawing an analogy between life and juggling. When you sit back on the porch and reflect at life, ask yourself what’s the most important factor that counts. Time. And so is very true while juggling. Timing is crucial: make a mistake even for a fraction of a second, then the whole act can be a disaster, with objects flying and landing haphazardly. And life is all about timing: making the right decisions at the right moment, utilising every second and every minute that you have.

Juggling is about recognising your limits. It takes practice — days, weeks, or even months — and there was this kid in our juggling class who never learned at all. All he did was toss a tennis ball from one hand to the other and toss that right back. So, if you are a novice then hurling three knives up in the air may leave you with a terrible headache — the one that won’t be cured by a couple of aspirins! Even after eight years, I myself haven’t dared to try such a venture. Life isn’t much different from that either. We know how everyone says that if you really believe and work hard then there is nothing that you can’t achieve, that everyone who tries deserves to win. Believe me, they are all bluffing. The bitter fundamental truth is: some are more deserving than others.

Also, on the philosophical context, both juggling and life are forms of art. And the epiphany lies in understanding that you are in control, you are the painter, and you are the man who is holding the palette and the brush. But in the end, it all comes to having fun. It’s feeling the euphoria when for the first time you have mastered the techniques; it’s experiencing that magic moment when your hands know what to do, and it appears the objects are moving naturally and all the hard work has finally paid off. It is all about relishing a challenge and the joy of overcoming it.