An Amalgamation of Masters

 

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Indian cricketer Sachin Tendulkar watche

 

Cometh the hour, cometh the man!

Ready to wield the bat of glory.

 

The bowlers hope to send him packing.

Oh for goodness sake!”, he says. “Prepare for a whacking.”

 

Bowler after bowler becomes a laughing stock.

The spectators don’t sleep a wink.

 

With baited breath they all watch.

As he fights fire with fire, kicking his game up a notch.

 

The fielding team is a sorry sight.

They’ve seen better days but this is his night.

 

The uppercuts follow the cover drives and the pulls; the ball vanishes into thin air.

It doesn’t matter if it’s Wankhede or Lord’s – for the world is his oyster and he’s a talent that’s rare.

 

As he runs across and celebrates a ton; he makes your hair stand on end.

You’re not sure if he’s also just human, nothing more than a godsend.

 

He’s determined to stay at the crease come what may; taking his team out of the jaws of death.

 

The game is up, the opponents know. For in all anticipation, they now lie low.

 

And then it happens, the prized wicket! TV sets around the country go off.

Good riddance!”, the bowlers think. The fielding captain steals a wink.

 

The spectators watch dead as doornails.

 

Now they know why they say, “You can never have too much of a good thing.”

They wear their hearts on their sleeves and cheer for him with all their might.

 

He raises his bat to acknowledge them all. A heart of gold shines through, despite a fall.

 

The team was once in a pickle, with two wickets down. “Fair play!”, the commentators exclaim.

*Knock knock* “Who’s there?”, they ask.

It’s the little master at the door to their hearts.

 

Mind-Trip

For someone who is fascinated by the many possibilities of travel, I haven’t done a lot of it in the physical world. However, in the realms of my mind is a route that takes me way deeper into my soul than any road ever will. It’s a trip unlike any other and one that brings forth flashes of the good and the bad. It’s the trip we’ve all been to, and continue to take every other day… The trip down memory lane!

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It’s a lane that builds itself over time – it only needs you to live, and takes no dime. It resides within the confines of your mind and yet, goes way beyond a thousand miles. Getting there is no mean feat. Overstay your welcome, and you are dead meat – lifeless enough to miss the little things that come your way. Depriving you of all focus, and leading you astray.

At a time when living in the present is considered a necessity, this is a privilege many learn to do without.

“Why dwell on the past when I can live now?”

The memory lane is no flashy street -certainly not all the way.

Decrepit lamps and shoddy streets at one moment, and the likeness to a lively city on the other, makes this a location of contrasts. Damaged frames, shattered vases and broken hearts lie disheveled. While pictures of happier times, letters of appreciation and the laughs on repeat at an audio store – all make for a pleasant stroll while reminding me of my roots and the impermanence of things, tangible and intangible alike.

The walk is long and tires me after a while. The heart still beats sans any panic; but my emotions are on overkill – never a great signal. I decide it’s time for a breather, and sit down by the edge of the street, hoping to let my emotions settle. I ask them to sit right by me, requesting them to not go away. They take deep breaths and collect themselves, feeling sorry for all of life because it brought along shades of grey.

They join me in a while as I continue my journey – stronger this time, unaffected by the crests and troughs. The memory lane scares me lesser this time, as I build a resistance for everything that didn’t work, for occurrences that surpassed no expectation and toward an ego that refused to let me be.

I trudge from one end to the other, looking fondly at everything I once possessed – wishing I could hold it all once again. But such are the ways of the world they say, that nothing lasts forever.

I decide to let go and keep walking; hoping to find memories my mind may have lost. But I only get back to where I started from. Thinking I may have lost my way, I look around for a way ahead. “Memory lanes don’t come with maps”, they say. “They rebuild themselves from time to time.”

Unkempt and weary, I come back to the moment; looking forward to another free roam.

Memory lanes keep the present at bay, so you wonder if there’s another way to reminisce it all – only to realise that you have no other choice. So you hold on tight to your ropes, swinging past memory after memory and soaking it all in differently each time.