My earliest memories
of cricket go back to when I was 4 or 5 years old. Playing cricket back then I
never really understood what I was doing. But everyone else around seemed to have
been in senses was playing only this game. Since then it has only been cricket: a
synonym for sport, an epitome for passion.
Every aspiring
cricketer of our age would have spent umpteen numbers of hours worshiping this
game… either playing it or just thinking about it. Wondering what would it be
like to play for India someday? What it takes to wear that jersey? Fortunate
enough are we, having had been blessed with someone that we can look up to and say, ‘Hey,
I want to be just like him!’ It would simply make our day when someone would
complement saying ‘…that shot you just played… it reminded me of Sachin’. We
have grown up copying each and every thing that he has done… right from taking
a guard against the mightiest players of all time, to a graceful walk-back to the
pavilion. We have been fortunate enough to see him play, fortunate enough to
learn from him, on and off the field, consciously or subconsciously. We have
lived cricket through him, we have played cricket for India through him. Every century
that he has made, every single run that he has scored is not only his, we feel it
belongs to us as well. Sachin belongs to us!
We loved him, we
hated him, we hailed him, and we cursed him. But we would not know our lives as
it is, had it not been for him.
Seeing him at work
for 24 years, relentlessly putting up with all the nonsensical expectations and
carrying along with all the burden of an entire nation full of crazy fanatics,
I always wondered what is it that moves him, makes him do what he does the best?
I got my answer to an extent when I stumbled upon a quote by Viktor Frankl,
which sums it all up real nice:
Those who have a
'why' to live, can bear with almost any 'how'.
As he bids the adieu
to the cricketing world today, it would not be an infelicitous statement to say
‘the life on this plant, as we know it, ceases to exist today!’
Enough has said,
enough would be… But one thing would resonate as it truly be: We Love Him!
With a heavy heart
we bow to thee, O Lord!
When the curtain
falls the savior would have gone!
There he goes, in
the realms of shadows,
Through murky
waters, a rower to the unknown.
The guiding light
would fade to dark,
Passing the baton
along, to the elite stark.
There are heroes;
there will be more,
Few were unsung,
fewer fortunate with a folklore.
He walks on with his
head held high,
Finally laid off the
burden, and made us cry.
With eyes all moist,
and a heavy heart,
We saw our God made
his final depart!
