Out of bursting energy you started cricket;
Maybe cricket started you.
Whatever it maybe !
Out of hard work and grit, you could score 99
centuries;
But the next one belongs to we people.
The millions and the billions.
Your hundredth hundred;
Result of our constant advise, critics and prayers.
No nails were left on the thumb and the first fingers;
Tons of nails shredded on your centuries.
By watching cricket on television, we billions of
experts;
Taught you the right ways to play an on-drive shot.
Not that we know how to play an on-drive shot.
No nails were left on the thumb and the first fingers.
Tons of nails shredded on your centuries.
Rhythmic chants “Sachin Sachin…”
The one we started in 1989, with your jumping walk;
We put pressure on Azza; we put pressure on Saurav.
We put pressure on Dravid; we put pressure on Laxman.
Gavaskar said : “They passed our pressure test and fired
all the cylinders.”
He must be true.
Pressure on bowlers; pressure on opposition;
You never knew, the pressure was on them.
Some of them lost it out too fast.
All that pressure cookers fired back on you;
Tons of text about Sachin-pressure in the media;
It was our carol song “Sachin Sachin.”
Apologies on shredded nails.
New-gen exuberance walked in; yet the enigma continued;
“Sachin; Sachin”
Yuvraj and Dhoni never fell in our enigmatic Sachin
chants,
Virat and Rohit followed the new normal;
Take 99 memories with you, but the 100th one is ours;
The people of India, forever and ever.
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