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Sach is Life

It was 4 pm. I was hungry, having not eaten anything for close to 15 hours. I had spent the last two hours in an examination hall where I had found out the actual name of the course for the first time. Common sense dictated – get food and get rest. Thankfully I had 2 missed calls, when I checked my phone after the exam. They were from Mom. I called back and found out that He was batting on 75. If I did not believe in serendipity earlier, I do now.

We all know what happened next, and papers tomorrow will be full of it. In few or more words they will all call Him a living legend – there was never a doubt over that. They will all salute His genius – one would be blind not to have observed that already. They’ll say men like Him are born once in a century – and surely time will stand witness to that. They’ll all say cricket will never be the same without Him – and I dread to think of the day when He decides to say “that’s all folks”.

Somehow, I always feel that my words will do justice to what I felt, and always I terribly fail. Last time around, 4 months ago, I could manage less than 60 words [here]. If only I could do better this time around.

Soon the shots will begin to fade and the numbers will be reduced to a list in the books of stats. What will remain is the memory, an image – like those of a sandstorm, like those of a cut over point – the image of a man looking up at the sky with a tricolor embracing helmet in one hand and a 30-in piece of willow in the other.

This achievement makes Him no greater than he already is. This is not a feat He needed. But it is the world of cricket that deserved someone like Him to score the first double ton in ODI. It is the world of cricket that is honored to have Him as the first double centurion in ODIs.

Thank God that I parked myself in front of the television at 1615 hrs on Feb 24th 2010 – I could never have forgiven myself otherwise.

And Thank You – for always giving me a reason to say “I’m proud to be an Indian”.

Comments

  1. Copying wrd frm ur prev post :
    "We are India, as long as HE is there.
    and WE BELIEVE."

    ReplyDelete
  2. i missed the history in making...no rerun or news report of that few seconds can ever match up to my loss...on top of that i din realize what has happened when you called me...
    things like these mk me wonder what wrong have i done??...

    ReplyDelete

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Reflections

महफ़िलें वही हैं, ये
जाम दूसरा है
बाज़ार है वही, पर
दाम दूसरा है

ख्वाहिशें वही हैं
खुमार दूसरा है
यार भी वही हैं, पर
प्यार दूसरा है

सब कुछ है हूबहू, बस
ख्याल दूसरा है
वो साल दूसरा था, ये
साल दूसरा है

_______________________________________________

mehfilein wahi hain, par
jaam doosra hai
bazaar bhi wahi hai, par
daam doosra hai

khwahishein wahi hain
khumaar doosra hai
yaar bhi wahi hain, par
pyaar doosra hai

sab kuchh hai hu-ba-hu, bas
khayal doosra hai
woh saal doosra tha
yeh saal doosra hai

The Year Of - Derivative Poetry

Embers, fires and slumbers
stoked, fanned and broken

dreams, promises, kisses
borrowed, begged or stolen

palms sweaty, knees weak, arms heavy
ribs bruised and eyes swollen

from earth, dust and ashes
rising
unbowed, unbent, unbroken.


Coming of Age

Sometimes, I just feel lucky to be born when I was, to be born in this time and age, to have seen so many contenders for the "Greatest of All Time" tag.

Lucky to be born in the age of Michael Schumacher and watch him beat record after record. To be born in the age of Lance Armstrong, for whom beating opponents and records was but a secondary feat. To be born in the age of Zinedine Zidane, most certainly the best of this generation, the marquee headbutt notwithstanding.

Lucky to have watched not one, but two legends, pass the baton in tennis.
When Pete Sampras lost in the Wimbledon of 01, it made fans of him hate that pony-tailed guy for ending his quest for a 5th consecutive crown. I know I did. But Pete shouldn’t mind that now, for over the course of next 8 years or so, Roger has shown that when it comes to beauty on the tennis court he has got the entire WTA beat, by a long shot (down the line).

And then there’s Sachin Tendulkar, whose one mistimed shot makes your heart skip a…