-- Rhitwick Mookherjee (Table Tennis Player)
A closer look at the mirror
Makes him little sad,
The whitish hair and greyish beard
Looks really really bad.
He finds it difficult to look afar
With his diminishing sight,
Blurry vision makes him realise
Something’s just not right.
Trembling hands make it hard
To hold the tea-cup steady,
As if it is trying to say
I am no more ready.
Fading memory fades away
All the names and date,
Things keep on getting deleted,
At a slow but steady rate.
Fatigued muscles and weaker knees
Refuse to obey anymore,
Even a simple walk in park
Makes them tired and sore.
Age is finally catching up, it seems,
Making him weak and old,
“Time for you to retire and rest”
Thats what everyone told .
But………
Little did they know, he was
Still a player in his heart,
Ready forever to fight and win,
And take the table apart.
Always appearing before his match
With his fav racket in hand,
Approaching the table with honor and pride,
And take his aggressive stand.
Then as the game begins,
Slowly he forgets his pain,
Body starts to get into rhythm,
As the topspins and smashes rain.
Age might have slowed his body
But spirit is still the same,
Even now, he is eager as hell,
To fight for one more game.
Win or lose doesnt matter nomore,
Victory'n Defeat become same,
What matters to him the most ofcourse,
Is to give his all in the game.
Cause this is the game
That gave him his identity,
And it is right here ,that
He wishes to attain eternity.