April 19, 2012 at 11:06 am
Poem, G (All)
Sports & Fitness | Biographical | Non Fiction
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The God & His Wizard
At the Sharjah Cricket Ground, there was a sandstorm.
At the same time in India, a train was tearing into the night's calm.
Most of the traveling People were tensed.
Their chances of watching him were fenced.
The stadium was witnessing a masterpiece.
The sandstorm halted the showpiece.
When everyone fell around him, he firmly held his ground.
He was waiting with patience, for his time to hound.
Suddenly, the train stopped at an unplanned station.
Engine Driver & many others ran inside with elation.
He scored his 14th hundred, but his face had shown no smile.
The joy of the people flown like the Nile.
After Sandstorm, his thunderstorm followed without signals.
He made India to qualify for the finals.
The day of the finals was his Birthday.
He scored his 15th hundred & won the cup for India, thus making it a Mirthday.
He can stop even Express Trains.
He can provide billions of People with Sains.
His love towards the country & vice versa; both are always limitless.
The amount of joy his hundred hundreds had produced was countless.
He is the God of Cricket with a Wizard like Willow in his hand.
All mortals will fear, if he starts using his magic wand.
His name is Sachin Ramesh Tendulkar.
I had given him a new name called "Spelndulkar".
He is known for plying Brutal Pulls, Poignant Paddle Sweeps & Uber cool Upper Cuts.
For a man who can play 10 different shots to a delivery, there are no ifs & buts.
This 24th of April, he will be turning 39.
God cannot bless himself, so I hope he will be fine.
Wish you a very happy Birthday Sachin!
I am not your fan...
Because, there is a lot of difference between a fan & a devotee.
© Stellar Ram
Last Modified: April 23, 2012 at 10:21 am
© stellarram - all rights reserved
This poem is a tribute to Mr. Sachin Tendulkar on the eve of his Birthday on 24th of April. According to me, he is the greatest ever Cricketer & arguably the greatest ever Sportsman who had graced this World.
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