Saturday, July 27, 2019

Mithya XI: Choghadiya’s Magical Moment

In this third 'chapter' from my almost autobiographical (life) story, I return to poetry to make alive a particular moment from my life.

The tale (part 1)

Player III : Choghadiya’s Magical Moment

Firmly placing my foot on the ground,
I defend every ball aimed at the stumps,
In this Test for some time I have been around,
it's time I claim my place from the dumps.[1]

I have staying power, I am silent and strong
the great Wall of Kumbhlagarh, not easy to scale
many have come and many have gone,
but I have become an integral part of the tale. [2]

I am Angad, the monkey,  my father no saint,
to outlast his legacy is all I aim,
I use cuss words- not good for the faint
I am a master at this game.[3]

They say I waste too many balls,
defend a lot, not striking on all,
I am picky and choosy and in these venerated halls
With one strike I can win, and settle it all.[4]

I get A’s in the courses that I love,
and fail spectacularly in those I hate
I am a hawk, and not a dove
yet on that day I was a bit late. [5]

He was the one who understand why,
my CGPA oscillated in violent rhythms,
quirky like me, in mini-p just getting by,
and getting an A in algorithms[6]

Spurned by the same girl, we found solace
in poetry or sports as per our whims,
we traded votes, our efforts did coalesce
both becoming hostel officials and COPMINS.[7]

And then that happened, he was shaken to core,
I was leading the team that gheraoed the dean.
There and then, I should have settled the score,
slapped the dean tight, or punched him like a bean.[8]

‘Ragging’ my foot, he was just interacting with the kids,
trying to help them, making them brave and strong,
and able to understand the innuendos used in the skits,
if acclimatising is a crime, then I guess he was wrong. [9]

For it was the freshers who indeed played such parts,
saying dialogues like ‘the boys stole our milk’,
and ‘girls ate our bananas’ -aiming these darts
-goaded by some seniors and their ilk.[10]

We even played Mahabharata based scripts,
in which some fresher Bhishm proudly squeaks,
'My hand my lord’ -this being a part of the skits,
Shouldn’t these freshers know what that means?[11]

By interacting with them, we got them educated,
preparing them for the world, the good, the bad, the ugly,
their minds need to be opened, need to be liberated,
oh my lord have I just defending ragging, I ask smugly.[12]

When you give it a name - as stigmatising as ragging,
you prevent even good interactions to bloom,
what He did was no ragging, but his punishment was staggering
and the whole hostel drowned in misery and gloom.[13]

Later that week, when we gathered to strategise
the hostel warden came and disrupted the meet,
I told him clearly and with overt malice
what fate him and the dean might greet.[14]

‘Great men sometimes by turn of fate,
are oppressed and tormented or struck from behind,
and we can look at history of events of late,
and learn from those lessons, to prevent rewind.’[15]

‘Even Lala Lajpat Rai when he was lathi charged by Brits,
and succumbed to his injuries, after some time,
yet don’t forget the fate of his tormentors the dumb wits,
they were all killed systematically for their respective crime.’[16]

This warning to Warden and indirectly to dean,
was the anger bursting forth from the depth of my heart,
hope the message works by itself, for I really mean,
to take the battle to its last tragic part.[17]

I was the messenger, this part I gladly played,
many were angry, but not many with balls of steel,
This was my moment, this memory has stayed,
a movement was building that much I could feel. [18]

Messenger not of Him, but of the seething masses,
my courage was contagious, my anger gave them voice,
and in a jiffy we had decided, to boycott the classes,
or wear a black band - let not the signal die in the noise.  [19]

A signal clear and loud, that we can’t be taken for granted,
his dignity meant a lot and his honour was worth fighting,
we don’t endorse violence, but to shame the dean we wanted,
like our gods - in one hand we have lotus, in other a bolt of lightening. [20]

He wasn’t there in that meeting, it wasn’t to placate him,
my rhetoric and drama was not in the service of Ram,
It was to shake up Ravana, his army, their fate grim,
that was numbered now on the fingers of one palm. [21]

My position so established, they can’t make me budge,
an inch from my standing, I have the troop as my back,
threats of expulsion, or rewards, a gentle nudge -
Will all fall on deaf ears, we are now one like a pack. [22]

Come Warden, come Dean, let all try their might,
till they apologise, we will all wear black-
Once in a lifetime we get to do what is right
let's fight without worrying about drawing flak . [23]

Why the warden was threatened, you may rightly ask,
he was doing his duty, earning his daily bread,
for trying to disrupt our meet, I will take him to task.
by aligning with the dean, he was as good as dead.[24]

I guess we won the battle, at least the first round,
TTK told Him, about my solemn oath,
of firmly placing my foot in the hostel’s ground,
and holding firm, till justice was brought.[25]

Many came and many went,
yet not many took the stand I took,
I guess this would be his constant lament
why didn’t the wanars the Insti shook. [26]

I cajoled Sugriva to continue to bridge,
the distance between north and south
This was a war, no time to play bridge,
but to hurl choicest abuses from my mouth.[27]

Just when the dean was falling on feet,
with an apology that was phoney - it sounded forced,
I lifted my feet and retracted to greet,
my friend who was broken and totally scorched.[28]

The Protest had been called off, an accord made,
I missed my moment, of settling the score,
of wrapping the dean in a blanket- a record made,
of hitting anonymously - becoming part of the lore.[29]

But alas, He would not approve of such tactics,
if willing he was strong enough to himself punish,
He teaches forgiveness to his students
some take that lesson to heart- oh rubbish.[30]

I guess he forgave, the dean and that fresher,
although it took him, some time to recover,
but how can I get over my failure to usher
a fearless time for Him and His brother.[31]

I stood like a wall,
between Him and the world
could not prevent the fall
or His descent to the underworld.[32]

After many years of struggling the vengefulness
he has finally come to terms, warts and all,
Got released from the prison, by granting forgiveness,
and realising that perhaps he played a role in his fall.[33]

What hope remains for me oh lord,
I am the strongest and yet so small,
a peripheral character in the tale of god,
by virtue of my foot, I’ll be standing tall.[34]

My magical moment came and went,
On this Diwali I will light for Him a diya,
and by writing this I could finally vent,
I am the servant of lord, Vishal Choghadiya. [35]

Standing like a wall, always for the team,
I have batted for some time, now let me rest,
include me in the tale- if you worthy deem,
and let the new team be made of the best. [36]

Let the legacy of Hanuman and Angad live long,
Let the head be held high, and the mind be without fear,
let us just serve the lord and let this make us strong,
Let us hold on to this hour and everything dear.[37]

To have played for Mithya XI, is an honour in itself
To have survived against odds is a miracle to boot,
To have flourished later achieving power and pelf,
is the icing on cake - now to get rid of the soot.[38]

Neither I failed nor Kavindra, we played our natural game,
the spirit of sports says,  give others a chance,
why proclaim from top, I conquered, I saw, I came,
let the glory fall on others- if only perchance.[39]

Hadn’t he got inscribed on the wall?,
‘the world thus follows us’,
as do wise men so do all,
did we collectively miss the bus? [40]

The great opportunity to stamp our names,
on the annals of history, pre-history of lore,
of emerging victorious in the deadly games,
and becoming parts of legends of yore. [41]

I am happy with my role, my cards, my deal,
deliberately missed my moment as I stand by my pledge,
the limelight from Him, I dare not steal,
my foot staying firmly on the edge. [42]

There is earthly ground beneath my feet,
I am not deluded, not about me,
If I could not protect His fleet,
I am sorry, let it be.[43]

In another eon and time,
I will be the Wanar of remarkable note,
- the tale will be exclusively mine,
He will escape by a mile and I will get his vote. [44] 

I have enough demons of mine to fight
buried in the forests, fearsome in the night
but to think of myself doesn’t seem right
I want to serve Him with all my might.[45]

This tale is His, I play a minor part,
to deliver His message strong and clear
to sing His glory, is my role from the start,
and that’s why He thinks of me as dear.[46]

What if the roles were reversed, I the victim, he friend,
with demons threatening me, he a spectator of sorts,
would like me he go all out, lend a helping hand,
and rise to the occasion, a servant of lords?[47]

My purpose in the tale is to project bravery and valour,
a hope that people with conviction exist
By the virtue of my feet I gave a performance stellar,
and rightly I have made to this list.[48]

Many will come and many will go,
Some may even take the stand I took,
-yet not be the hero- they may forego
their magical moment to better look. [49]

Sans all pretenses, I am clear in my heart,
- the role entrusted to Choghadiya Vishal -
I went on a limb to play that part.
My stamp’s on the tale- I am a star. [50]

3 comments:

Manish said...

This is coming up so well....WOW!

sandygautam said...

Thanks Manish:-)

Indu said...

Engrossing