The story is coming right at the end, so please hold on with the pain :).
Just finished watching the recording of Sachin's speech in Wankhede.
Yup, didn't see it live!, despite of claiming him mine for last 24 years. 'Don't have a TV' or 'no internet at room', well I'm not gonna give these excuses. Despite of being silly, they are non-existent. I opted out. Like I did when I got the chance of a lifetime to see him at the Eden, two years ago and again some 10 days ago, just 55 kilometres from where I'm typing now. It was difficult, more than most of you expect, for me to get a ticket. But still that cannot be an excuse, because its HIM!.
I opted out also not because it'll be unbearable for me; I wanted to pour my heart out, which I eventually did over the Youtube video that I had just shared [thanks to the person who recorded it from his TV screen and uploaded so fast, while the official broadcaster was still negotiating the original's price]. Surely it wouldn't have happened back at home, as even my impending exams never could shut-down 'any' cricket on TV, let alone a Test. But here, far away from those 'attributes', I am kinda alone to ponder. & that's the culprit.
I just didn't feel like. Ya, it was that simple. For all my life, I actually have seldom seen Sachin bat or play live! I only used to keep on updating the score, sit for those dreaded minutes when he was in the famous 90s, & then see the highlights or re-runs with devoted attention. When on 14th afternoon, he came to bat, I was watching the match online. Vijay got caught & He descended. I felt the decades-old rush again, and was about to see him getting his first run and then turn away to something. But then, given the historicity of the event, for the first time in my life, I decided to continue. For the first time is life, I was not being worried about him getting out and follow each and every shot looking only for that standard sparkle of genius. & it felt amazing!, as he was in sublime touch. He wanted to play all those great shots, one at a time, in his last (presumably) show. But then two guys came to me with a request that I couldn't refuse even in such a situation. By the time they left, it was stumps at He was batting on 38.
I didn't turn up in the morning to see him resuming. By the time I asked a shop-keeper, he had already taken the last walk back on 74. 'Another missed century!' the immediate & usual reaction of mine. Then almost immediately a calmness overwhelmed that: 'Let it be, He was happy while playing this innings'. I saw that the day before. He wanted to enjoy his cricket, that's why while coming down to bat, he was composed, not tensed, despite of everyone emoting atop their lungs within that resonating cavity of a Colosseum named Wankhede. He wanted to love the game in person one last time, and made sure nothing comes in-between, even the past 24 years!. & when this morning Sammy made us all skip a heart-beat or two for the last time, it was over. The public roared inevitably & He showed the first sign of pain, of leaving. Just before touching the shadows of the stands, he semi-paused and took off his tricoloured helmet and bowed after the grandest display, his career.
I missed THAT in live!, even today's ceremony, the immortal speech and the lap of honour. & it was intentional. Though I'm not sure at the moment, it was because I always missed him performing live most of the time. That's the way I always followed Him and that is how Sachin kept me happy. I stayed that selfish till the very end. I should have been otherwise, at least for the last time. But I didn't. & that's the way it's gonna stay for ever now. He will NOT retire for me; perhaps the same is with countless people around the globe. Whenever I will need to be happy, I'll see some recording of his batting. & He'll be there for me to make me happy. His love for his favourite thing cannot wither-off, as he always says, and we share that love!. So how can he retire, ever?
I'm not in for his praises and stats, nor about what he is for me. Not only because that feeling is completely mine, but because if one doesn't feel the same, they don't deserve to know. Rather I'll talk a bit about the speech he gave at last, and a tad more, before we go down to my story that I promised above.
Though 74 was supposed to be the last ballet, he did one more, as a happy child would. He made a speech, that resonated with us, touching all that is the good within. It was about love, between parents and son, among siblings and friends, in the family; sharing love for the game with his coach, co-players and inspiring most to be likewise. He made us cry. Trust me on this that it is impossible even for the greatest orator; but possible only for one who tries to sum-up everything he loved & keep on loving for all time. It had stories of devotion, sacrifice, care, braveness, pride and honour: all in all the best that human beings can feel, can be.
Then was the lap of honour, most of which was on the shoulders of MS, Rohit and Viraat, who qualify aptly. He kept on asking them if there is any discomfort, and they replied every time with a push upwards. The luckiest and happiest ball-boy of cricket was in tow, with his overwhelmed sister & mom; all three basking in the happiness of sharing the love of a billion hearts, and call it their own.
The Bat:
October, 1989. A kid lost his maternal grandfather. By the time the ceremonial functions are taking place in November, as usual, he was back into his childish best; making his father's scooter fall down on a rusted barbed fence, along with three other cousins. It got him a puncture and a overnight fever. His father took him for a tetanus shot next morning, but he won't give into that until he got a 'big' cricket bat. That was a repair-stock willow as tall as him that time.
By the time he was ready to wield his big new friend (he could!), he was shown someone, much older, but still a boy. This one was going to somewhere called Pakistan, of which our kid still had no real idea. He started hearing about and seeing him on a regular basis. He wanted to be like that boy at first. Then it went to the extent of getting even happier when the boy-star hit a 100 than he himself scoring something like that in the small ground nearby with that bat of his.
He kept on playing with that bat, even broke it once at the handle-ledge, but gummed it back solid & kept on going. When he was old enough to get into serious cricket, he couldn't make into very far. Still he kept on playing with that bat, only with tennis ball now, as it was weaker than before. But every time he played, he felt a connection, of scripting great innings' one after another.
Then the kid was man enough to leave home, and the bat too. Yet, every vacation he went back, he knocked a ball around with the bat, mostly and necessarily against a wall. Lately he could spot a few termite holes in the bat, which he poured oil into, so that the bat can go on a bit more, can stay with him. Last few times he went home, he couldn't play with it, but made a point each time to check-out its well-being. The bat still survives. He wants it to be there for ever with him. It's the living symbol of his love for the game. He has chosen something else as his life, and tries to be devoted completely to that. But he also wants that bat to be with him all the way: It makes him complete!. :)
Just finished watching the recording of Sachin's speech in Wankhede.
Yup, didn't see it live!, despite of claiming him mine for last 24 years. 'Don't have a TV' or 'no internet at room', well I'm not gonna give these excuses. Despite of being silly, they are non-existent. I opted out. Like I did when I got the chance of a lifetime to see him at the Eden, two years ago and again some 10 days ago, just 55 kilometres from where I'm typing now. It was difficult, more than most of you expect, for me to get a ticket. But still that cannot be an excuse, because its HIM!.
I opted out also not because it'll be unbearable for me; I wanted to pour my heart out, which I eventually did over the Youtube video that I had just shared [thanks to the person who recorded it from his TV screen and uploaded so fast, while the official broadcaster was still negotiating the original's price]. Surely it wouldn't have happened back at home, as even my impending exams never could shut-down 'any' cricket on TV, let alone a Test. But here, far away from those 'attributes', I am kinda alone to ponder. & that's the culprit.
I just didn't feel like. Ya, it was that simple. For all my life, I actually have seldom seen Sachin bat or play live! I only used to keep on updating the score, sit for those dreaded minutes when he was in the famous 90s, & then see the highlights or re-runs with devoted attention. When on 14th afternoon, he came to bat, I was watching the match online. Vijay got caught & He descended. I felt the decades-old rush again, and was about to see him getting his first run and then turn away to something. But then, given the historicity of the event, for the first time in my life, I decided to continue. For the first time is life, I was not being worried about him getting out and follow each and every shot looking only for that standard sparkle of genius. & it felt amazing!, as he was in sublime touch. He wanted to play all those great shots, one at a time, in his last (presumably) show. But then two guys came to me with a request that I couldn't refuse even in such a situation. By the time they left, it was stumps at He was batting on 38.
I didn't turn up in the morning to see him resuming. By the time I asked a shop-keeper, he had already taken the last walk back on 74. 'Another missed century!' the immediate & usual reaction of mine. Then almost immediately a calmness overwhelmed that: 'Let it be, He was happy while playing this innings'. I saw that the day before. He wanted to enjoy his cricket, that's why while coming down to bat, he was composed, not tensed, despite of everyone emoting atop their lungs within that resonating cavity of a Colosseum named Wankhede. He wanted to love the game in person one last time, and made sure nothing comes in-between, even the past 24 years!. & when this morning Sammy made us all skip a heart-beat or two for the last time, it was over. The public roared inevitably & He showed the first sign of pain, of leaving. Just before touching the shadows of the stands, he semi-paused and took off his tricoloured helmet and bowed after the grandest display, his career.
I missed THAT in live!, even today's ceremony, the immortal speech and the lap of honour. & it was intentional. Though I'm not sure at the moment, it was because I always missed him performing live most of the time. That's the way I always followed Him and that is how Sachin kept me happy. I stayed that selfish till the very end. I should have been otherwise, at least for the last time. But I didn't. & that's the way it's gonna stay for ever now. He will NOT retire for me; perhaps the same is with countless people around the globe. Whenever I will need to be happy, I'll see some recording of his batting. & He'll be there for me to make me happy. His love for his favourite thing cannot wither-off, as he always says, and we share that love!. So how can he retire, ever?
I'm not in for his praises and stats, nor about what he is for me. Not only because that feeling is completely mine, but because if one doesn't feel the same, they don't deserve to know. Rather I'll talk a bit about the speech he gave at last, and a tad more, before we go down to my story that I promised above.
Though 74 was supposed to be the last ballet, he did one more, as a happy child would. He made a speech, that resonated with us, touching all that is the good within. It was about love, between parents and son, among siblings and friends, in the family; sharing love for the game with his coach, co-players and inspiring most to be likewise. He made us cry. Trust me on this that it is impossible even for the greatest orator; but possible only for one who tries to sum-up everything he loved & keep on loving for all time. It had stories of devotion, sacrifice, care, braveness, pride and honour: all in all the best that human beings can feel, can be.
Then was the lap of honour, most of which was on the shoulders of MS, Rohit and Viraat, who qualify aptly. He kept on asking them if there is any discomfort, and they replied every time with a push upwards. The luckiest and happiest ball-boy of cricket was in tow, with his overwhelmed sister & mom; all three basking in the happiness of sharing the love of a billion hearts, and call it their own.
The Bat:
October, 1989. A kid lost his maternal grandfather. By the time the ceremonial functions are taking place in November, as usual, he was back into his childish best; making his father's scooter fall down on a rusted barbed fence, along with three other cousins. It got him a puncture and a overnight fever. His father took him for a tetanus shot next morning, but he won't give into that until he got a 'big' cricket bat. That was a repair-stock willow as tall as him that time.
By the time he was ready to wield his big new friend (he could!), he was shown someone, much older, but still a boy. This one was going to somewhere called Pakistan, of which our kid still had no real idea. He started hearing about and seeing him on a regular basis. He wanted to be like that boy at first. Then it went to the extent of getting even happier when the boy-star hit a 100 than he himself scoring something like that in the small ground nearby with that bat of his.
He kept on playing with that bat, even broke it once at the handle-ledge, but gummed it back solid & kept on going. When he was old enough to get into serious cricket, he couldn't make into very far. Still he kept on playing with that bat, only with tennis ball now, as it was weaker than before. But every time he played, he felt a connection, of scripting great innings' one after another.
Then the kid was man enough to leave home, and the bat too. Yet, every vacation he went back, he knocked a ball around with the bat, mostly and necessarily against a wall. Lately he could spot a few termite holes in the bat, which he poured oil into, so that the bat can go on a bit more, can stay with him. Last few times he went home, he couldn't play with it, but made a point each time to check-out its well-being. The bat still survives. He wants it to be there for ever with him. It's the living symbol of his love for the game. He has chosen something else as his life, and tries to be devoted completely to that. But he also wants that bat to be with him all the way: It makes him complete!. :)
