I post it here in this poetry blog for the sake of completeness :-)
Some stand
on the shoulders
of parents,
zeros without them,
convinced
that a fall,
will be cushioned,
by mattresses
stuffed with
papers of certain colors,
obliging officials,
and the
rights of innocents.
And some,years after
slogging years,
feet firmly on the ground,
eyes willing the ball,
stand tallest
at 5ft 5inches,
as they
swipe,
cut,
flick,
and sweep,
occasionally
in an arc in the sky,
22 x 50 x 100
of them.......
A slight smile,
a deep exhaling
as he removes the helmet
and looks up
into the beyond
seeking
his father,
who showed the way,
but left him
to define his own paths
by hard work,
quiet concentration,
and respect.
At 37,
his fathers child
and a favourite child of the country,
his is not to
sit back and gloat;
he mobilises
to face
a Protean swing
and spin...
eyes sharp,
mind calm
a billion prayers empowering him.
Mothers wish
for a son like him,
Coaches pray
for a student like him
Fathers smile
when they watch him,
children puff up
when they talk about him,
and blades of grass
on the cricket grounds
all over the country
shiver in excitement
as they recall being part of it all....
He stands tallest
as he calls himself
an Indian first,
in the face of
mindless statements
by those with mortgaged minds.
How many
Republic days must go by
before someone
in high places
realizes
that
the
next choice for
Bharat Ratna
is obvious........
