The longest walk… to ruin or fame!

He forced a smile on his face. It was imperative for him to keep his calm; to keep his nerve. Faltering was not an option. It never was. But especially not now.

His time had come. He started the walk, still trying to force a smile on his face. He wasn’t so sure about how fast he was walking, but he felt like a snail could beat him for pace now. He was tired, yes. The past couple of hours were draining. He had very little energy left in him, because he had given more than he ever had. Mentally too, it was a tough two hours. These, though, weren’t the reasons why he was walking slowly.

Every passing second would one day go down in history, and it took him closer to being a part of history himself. No matter what happens, he will be etched into history books. It was this knowledge that made him slow.

“Not just the books, even documentaries I’m sure!”

That thought in his head actually made him smile. For a fraction, he felt confidence surge in him. But it only lasted that long.

He felt a hundred thousand pairs of eyes on him. Some rooting for him, some willing against him. The people around him were screaming their lungs out. If there ever was a situation where one could feel the weight of 100kgs on him, though he was carrying nothing, this was it. Expectation weighed on him. He was also aware of a million other eyes across the globe that were fixated on him. Again, some rooting for him, some willing against him. He continued to walk, at the same unknown pace.

His opponents would have studied him in all detail. He wasn’t going to do anything new. It was something he had practiced before and done effectively over the years. But if that was an advantage at all, he didn’t think so now. He wondered if it would play against him.

His walk had carried him to his destination, but that wasn’t the end of it. He had done only the easiest part right. Now came the defining moment. A moment that would make a celebrated hero whose name would be sung in praise or the villain of an entire nation who would always be known as the man who let them down when it really mattered. His heart was hammering against his ribcage. His mind was still racing with thoughts of the aftermath. What would happen now?

He stood with his arms on his hips, legs apart. Suddenly, he felt adrenaline rushing inside him. He knew what he should do. And to do that, he threw the thoughts of the consequences out of his head. The screams of the people, though loud as ever, were reduced to a mere whisper. He had one quick glance at the opponent in front of him. He focused his mind and picked his target. His face held an expression that wasn’t quite decipherable, but it decidedly was what a confident man would wear.

From the edge of the area, he took measured steps towards the penalty area and struck the ball firmly to the bottom right corner of the goal. Even before the ball was halfway through to the goal, he was aware of the keeper diving to his right. He had managed to deceive the keeper, it was only a matter of the shot being on target! Before he could finish thinking this, the ball had found the bottom corner it was aimed at. He had just struck the winning penalty! Falling to his knees, he felt a massive emotion take him over, as emotion that’s felt when your nation has just won the world cup!

I play the beautiful game...

With the wind in my hair,

My mind is freed from all care,

I take to the field, my eternal lair.

With the ball at my feet,

My world looks impeccable and neat,

I look for challenges to take on, to beat.

With poetry now set in motion,

My soul achieves its redemption,

I play the beautiful game, in all elation.

Update: 8th June, 2016

Picture this. You’re taken away from something that you love. Taken away from it for reasons that are unclear to you, and reasons which seem ridiculous to you. It was, and it still is, your favourite drug which got you high, your favourite drink that calmed you down, and the one thing that you’d enjoy on any given day, in any given occasion. And now it’s taken away from you in a cruel way, and put beyond your reach for the next 9 to 10 months.

The wait alone will be excruciating. And that’s enough mental stress. But what if you’re made to work hard physically too over the next 10 months? You have to go through pain, through a workout regime that’s only getting tougher, while you inch uncertainly towards your target. You can decide to forget about it and put yourself through only the mental torture of forgetting it. But no. You yearn for it, you need it. You will go through whatever it takes. For you know how it felt.

Then you see others reveling in the happiness that it gives. But you can only see; not feel it yourself. Finally, after enduring through the tough months, you can have it. You’re almost there. But now there’s a new conundrum. A doubt has crept into your mind. After all this time, will it still be the same? After all the efforts, will it be worth it? You’re anxious about the new beginning. Yet, deep down, you know that you would’ve gone through twice the tough times that you did go through, just to be here. Nervously, you reach out.

You feel it again. Instantly you know that you’ve never felt it so good before. Euphoria takes over. Ecstasy will reign.

I suffered an ACL tear while playing football in a corporate tournament. The injury was inflicted by a careless tackle by the opponent. I had to undergo ACL reconstruction surgery if I ever wanted to play again. But the surgery was only the first step towards recovery. For full recovery, I had to go through a rehab protocol, where discipline and patience were of prime importance. Then after 8 months of concerted efforts, I was declared fit to return to football. In this poem, which is an emotional one for me, I’ve tried to capture the way I felt when I took to the field finally.

Recover

Roads, they sure are rough

Me, I am equal and tough.

Incapable, is my body like this

Indomitable, yet, my spirit is.

'nd invincible, is my strength of will

Unrelenting, I shall continue to till.

Until I recover, until I surely heal.

An acrostic describing my ongoing ACL reconstruction rehab.