I don't want to cheapen the emotion by putting up some dreary superlatives and then describing how they fall short. I don't want to say something just because if I don't, it means I have nothing to say. I very much do. More valuable than all those reams of claptrap that have been spewed over the last 2 weeks…and those that are on their way to achieve new levels of meaninglessness in another 3 weeks' time. So in the middle of this relative lull, while dictionaries are being devoured by those who can write, in a quest to discover an adjective not used to death over the last 25 years, I will say what I must.

It sucks. For me. The fact that Sachin is officially walking away, well and truly does suck for me. I don't want to restate clichés about being from the generation that didn't have any other relevant heroes. I could not care less for that generation. However, as a kid, like a million other kids perhaps, I had built up my own subconscious mechanism of choosing the 'right' way when faced with any situation: 'What would Sachin do?' It may have been stupid. It may have been a way to externalize a 'nice guy' persona and project it on someone who was universally acknowledged as one. Whatever. But it still helped me never do anything that made it difficult to live with myself…for all my colossal teenaged dilemmas. It helped me rely solely on what I had and not turn to anyone for favors. It helped me not copy in exams. It helped me not jump red lights. It helped me never cheat. It helped me not be a douche generally. I can almost say I try and do things that way, to this day.

I wonder if I'd have been a different person, had I not grown up watching the nice guy win. Now, I don't really know if Sachin is a 'nice guy' or if he would do things a certain way off the field. So assumptions aside…what Sachin did do for sure was point out that the elusive middle path exists. In a society that either turns reflexively towards irrelevant extremes like the Gandhian way, or resigns and caves hopelessly when faced with a challenge too big to handle, Sachin carved his groove on that thin line. You need to give as good as you get, he said…but you also need to do it with poise. If you care enough to fight hard but fair, egos break easier than bones. And they don't fuck around with you after that. You simply stand up and do what you know you can. And while everybody already knew this as 'that virtue you find solace in after you lose', Sachin showed you can actually win that way.

He did all this for me. He did much more too. To this day, my blood boils when I see hypocritical scum that stands for everything Sachin does not, associate itself with him to nosh off of him. All those bottom feeders who have ever stood next to him in a picture or who have ever said they were his fans and how he is a great role model, make me want to grab a gun. And yet, in a lot of ways, Sachin has shown how you can coexist with shit without having absolutely anything to do with it. I can now smile, the same smile Sachin smiles, when I come across any of the countless douchebag poseurs I unfortunately have in my own life. Everyday, in a lot of ways, the most relevant question still remains 'What would Sachin do?'

I hate smudging my focus here, but it really makes me shudder at how much more awful things are going to be. When kids grow up believing you should do whatever it takes to get what you want. When ends are valued more than means, since that angle works better for just about everyone. I shudder at how awful things are going to be cuz there sure as hell won't be any Sachin to root for the right thing tomorrow. Not a winner anyway. And unless someone really steps up, we're all set to create a world that would one day have you believe 'Sachin has become an irrelevant idea' and 'he wouldn't last a day in today's world'.

My first reaction to finding out he's walking away was 'why can't he just stop playing…why does he have to walk away?' It wasn't like he was playing a great deal of cricket anyway. Couldn't he just hang around for another, I dunno, 15 years and just not play? Why does he have to announce that he won't be around! I hate using the term 'retirement' with Sachin…cuz everyone else retires…Sachin must surely do better. In time, this denial will give way to some useless wisdom and I'll make my peace with a world that just turned a darker shade of crappy. Nothing surprising there…but while Sachin has chosen to walk away, it is perhaps time for me to process what happened exactly…because whatever happened, for the first time in 25 years, my question seems to have returned a 'He'd say he's had enough'.

Well I got a couple more years on you babe
And that's all
I've had more chances to fly
And more places to fall
Ain't that I am wiser,
I've just spent more time
With my back to the wall
And I picked up a couple more years on you babe
But that's all

Well I have been down more roads than you babe
And that's all
And I am tired of running
When you're only learning to crawl
You're heading somewhere
But I've been that somewhere
Found out, it's nowhere at all
And I picked up a couple more years on you babe
But that's all

These words were unfinished since you were born babe,
And that's all
So I thought I'd play out of my league
And put on some gall
I've lived more winters to know
How scathing the winds blow
While you still forget to carry a shawl
And I picked up a couple more years on you babe
But that's all

If there is anything I hate, it is this awareness. This consciousness of how thoughts—perfectly pure, fluid, succinct, and coherent in my head—freeze up into a confused flux somewhere along their way to my voice box, the awareness of syllables clogging up at my throat. My tongue gets heavy and it is much less painful to just disconnect that mess from my brain and let it float unuttered in a nameless, placeless ocean; islands let adrift. Unfortunately, I am fast running out of ocean...

I want to say thousands of things to you. Beyond what I do. God only knows where I am even going to find the ether to say them, given that I am wont to filling up all the static that is ever to be found between us. It is a shame that more important, real things end up being compromised. There has never been a suitable moment to say how much that smile means to me. Or to explain why your eyes look so blue. My chest tightens when I wonder how I am ever going to express my adoration for all things innocent, loveable, simple, and clean. You think I have no fears. I want to tell you that when fears turn real, they become something else. Something more scary, something less worrisome. But there is never a right moment to say all this.

In a world where cities devour people and imitation love is celebrated, you managed to slice your way through. And my plight is that I can't even say what it means to me. You say I am your pillar, your grounding stone. Some day, when I find words good enough, I am going to tell you the difference between a pillar and a scaffold.

Kisses turn to poison and engines sputter to a halt, babe. And while tonight you don't look any more hurtful than a fawn, I am still going to pray. I am too old to tell you I will make everything alright; but I am also young enough to tell you there is nothing I won't do for you. While you can put me down for any number of things, you can't fault where my heart's at. With any luck, from my side, I will end up never hurting you.

So on this all-too-familiar day, when my words won't yield, my diction has gone into hiding, and even my finger tips are almost refusing to oblige, all I can do is close my eyes and believe there will be a right moment, on a better day. And when I come up with the words, maybe you'll still have good use for them…

The evening was revving up alright
Nothing that belonged in the shadows was out
The music did a good job drowning whispers
And there was nobody who cared enough to shout
But in the corner the clock wound down so slow,
As reality leaked into the dream
Only one way this would play out now,
And words couldn't describe that scheme
Although a picture came to mind, I suppose…
That of a zipper that just wouldn't close

People, they all had something to celebrate
Some could've easily been wearing fur
Some I saw come with gifts,
Me, I just came with a disclaimer
I know I’m saying it right,
So don’t you wonder why I paused
No offense was ever meant, of course
But heaps of it was caused,
In fact, it was quite a heavy dose,
Like a zip that just won't close

We've measured distance in lifetimes,
Now we’ll just count it in miles
Don’t fret needlessly baby,
Life is rarely worth it’s while
First throw a rug over it
Then weep while it rots
I’m just gonna do what I should've all along…
Act on the first echo of my thoughts
And not be an obsessed old tailor who sews
Trying to fix a zip that doesn't close

The ticket girl’s gonna ask with a smile
“When would you like to pay the price?
It sure looks steep right now, doesn't it?
But be warned, any later, you’ll be paying twice”
As the planes take off beyond the wall
Now they don’t look up to code
Is that why it feels young lady,
Like your head is gonna explode?
Your shoes too are splitting at your toes,
Looking like that zip that just won’t close

Thursday when you are ready to board
Announcements all around
Once you've checked in, you gotta walk on
No help onwards to be found
The whispers in your head will get louder tomorrow
Tonight, go ahead, wrestle the gavel
Now this ain't nothing, but common sense
That it’s never a good idea to travel
With so much baggage that it shows
Through a zip that just won’t close

“Choose very wisely”, your game-host said
“Here’s a couple of stones”
“One of them’s precious, as precious can be
Something only a princess owns”
You picked one up without much thought
And now it’s just gathering moss
You bought high, you’re selling low
Face it, you’re booking a loss
And don’t you forget them inevitable throes
That come with a zip that doesn't close

The weather has long changed now
Even that shrug has turned a hopeless sigh
I swear the closest thing to the truth
I could tell you was a lie
That corner of sunshine has shrunk a lot
The moon too has bailed on its rise
The risk you run with your head in the clouds
Is that they often condense in your eyes
I’d imagine a fate like that sure blows
Like a zip that does not close

You wouldn’t know what I am talking about, because only I could see those intermittent flashes of light bouncing off of your face. More like peeling off. Peeling off like they didn’t want to leave. Every moment that a beam lingered on your face for seemed to brush a tiny bit of weariness away. The effort you were putting in to sing in key was intense…but woefully inadequate. I’ve heard very few people sing as badly. Of course, I would never break that to you. I would on another day, but not that one. Innocence has a tune but it sounds out of key, I realized. So I let you be. We laughed at a silly thing. Different laughs—yours that sounded like a question; mine that sounded like it didn’t have an answer.

 

On a journey that couldn’t have gone on long enough, the best I could do was pray that there wouldn’t be a fork in the road.