paintball- a mini war and a mini nirvana

the name of our team was 'kirmizi penceler' (red claws). someone had thrown out the idea 'kartal' which means eagle in turkish. i knew we had to have an aggressive name to get our identity in line with the game. the psychology classes in college finally came of some use...we were bundled up in camoes, given masks to cover our faces, these same masks were goggles that fogged up each time you breathed which is why the umpires recommended everyone to take some tissue paper to wipe it every now and then. yeah right! i am about to enter a war zone and i am going to have to make time for a goggle wipe session!

the team discusses strategies, i am there, i want to do this right. at least that's what i really want. all this yoga everyday i know i know one would think its going to be different but as soon as i walk into a competitive game environment i am back to my school days- running in relays, yelling during volleyball matches, getting hit in the eye during field hockey, feeling the adrenaline pump while mountain biking in the woods with adrenaline obssessed friends...i love a good game and if i get minor cuts and bruises in that time then i have done my best. strange way to think huh?

it had been a while since i have been consumed in this 'other mode'. a long while. last time i had a competitive stubbornness take hold of me was a game of backgammon in london 2 years ago and man it feels good to win against a pretty experienced opponent.

the team discussed how to get the flag, to protect themselves and to yell for cover if need be. the first round was total confusion. our ammunition finished really quick, we were running like we were on acid and nobody really knew what was going on. wasted energy. i was running out of steam. i got shot on my wrist a few times and then my pinky which hurt and then sizzled but i was game. i was committed.

the second round was interesting. the team had figured out the routes, i could see where i was shooting, making runs to the flag but getting hit on my legs which would instantly stop me in my tracks. there was no way i could move after getting shot. heroic performance put by myself but it yielded no results. we were 1-1, the number of shots each side had inflicted upon each other. the number of phosphorescent paint marks on bodies was their measure.

third round was a mixture of fatigue and hysteria. i couldn't see from my goggles. i shot at an opponent from a short distance whose strategy was to walk to our goal to grab the flag without being noticed. he was 10 yards from it! he was almost successful. and apparently he shot me before i shot him...i crawled and made an insane run to grab the flag along with a team member and at some point i didn't know where i was going and couldn't see the flag i was trying to get to... around that timeframe i was shot on my neck twice, 3 on my back and 2 on legs. oh yeah it was a fierce battle except all i did was shout and cringe in pain.

as the whistle went off to signal the end the opponent had already crossed with our flag and there i was at the base of a pine tree weeping from all my wounds. the ones on my neck and collarbone were ruthless. i heard myself clearly yelling in my head, 'i don't have to go through this pain!!' i suddenly got up with tear streaked eyes probably racoonish eyes- since my black kohl had just had it with the sweat, the crawling and the seemingly endless struggle to survive- and walked away, got dressed and started heading out.

parkorman in maslak is beautiful. as i was walking away from the paintball area it began to drizzle, the poolside was misty, people were still at brunch and the cobblestone pathways looked postively romantic. definitely a place i shall be going to eat and probably watch the rain sipping hot chocolate. the only good thing about paintball was the cleansing of all thoughts after 45 minutes of intense play. imagine that...you try to think and nothing comes. meditative.