When the rain out-shone the sun!

It was a marathon innings
The rain was going great guns
And, at stumps he’ was not out

The sun was at his wits’ end…
Bumper, Beamer, Yorker
Inswinger outswinger
And all other weapons in his arsenal
Produced no result. The rain hit them…
All over the park
And, the umpires were busy
Signalling fours and sixes
Or nodding their heads to say “Not out”
To half-hearted appeals from the Sun
On a couple of occasions the rain was nearly trapped
And the crowd saw sun’s smiling face
But that was all.

“The rain is on his Home ground”
said a commentator. “Yeah, He is the hero.
On a wet pitch” said the other.
“And, the sun is a zero” said they
in a subdued voice, rather jokingly.

Author: P U Krishnan

First things first. I am one of those retired chaps who are young at heart. I watch cricket matches and jump for joy when Tendulkar scores yet another century. I read newspapers and books too, though I am not crazy about them. I think I have a mind free from hatred and I owe it to the wonders of nature and music. I scribble something now and then and call myself a writer! Though I have settled in Ooty, a lovely hill station in Tamil Nadu—I must emphasize the fact that I was born and brought up in Tellicherry in North Kerala and studied in the good old Government Brennen College. Of and on, my mind goes back to my ancestral house at Tiruvangad in Tellicherry in front of an ancient Sri Ram temple. I am indebted to this wonderful place which inculcated in me a love for cricket and literature. But all said and done, I am an Indian first.

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