The first whistle had gone. He strained at the rope, waiting for the next. In the game of Tug-Of-War, you don’t get a second chance. Between the first whistle and the next, the moment had frozen.
He had won every Tug-Of-War match except the last one. His friends say he can pull off an entire match alone. Bloody hypocrites! None of them even bothered to check on him when he had broken his leg last year.
The second whistle. For one complete minute he heard nothing, saw nothing, felt nothing. They won. But no one noticed a champion was reborn.
Saw some exceptional tug-of-war matches today. It may seem to be poetic justice, but I was also torn between two contrasting thoughts – one that we, as human beings, are still not over the age of gladiators and the other that no matter the differences that have crept up, we still unite in the celebration of the human spirit.
Gyaan aside, kudos Ora Ovations 2012.