It was his first day playing for his team, and he got in at the last moment because the team’s main player was injured. He had always been passionate about kabaddi, begging his captain for a chance to play. Finally, his opportunity came, and facing a fierce team only made his adrenaline rush like a tsunami. Tense but confident, he was determined to secure a win for his team.
"We should have won last
year," he often told his mother. His team had been a strong contender for
the inter-school championship, but poor refereeing had left them as runners-up.
That day, he fought back tears as he watched from the sidelines, promising
himself he would help his team win the next year.
This year was his shot at glory,
and he was sure he could win it for the team. But getting to play was a
challenge. His team had many strong players, and it took a combination of
convincing and luck to get his chance. Fortune favored him when their star player,
Dhananjay Panday, twisted his ankle during practice, paving the way for his
entry into the team for the all-important final. It was the day he had always
dreamed of, the moment he had always fantasized about.
The game began, and both teams
clashed with all their might. It was hard to tell who had the upper hand.
However, the absence of their star player began to take its toll as the
opposition started to gain a significant lead. Desperation and fear spread through
his team, leading to mistakes and lost points. He saw the desperation in his
captain - Dharma's eyes.
"Don't worry, skipper. I
will not let you down," he said confidently as he made his way toward the
opposition, where seven players waited like hungry wolves ready to devour a
tiny rabbit. But he was unfazed and ready. With the skill and dexterity of a
seasoned player, he tore through the opposition, leaving them stunned by the
sheer demolition this ‘newcomer’ performed.
The round ended, and smiles
returned to his team. Victory seemed within reach. Dharma, usually calm, eyed
his rival captain with a hint of mockery. The opposition, on the other hand,
seethed with rage. They knew they had to do something drastic to win. And so,
they discarded the rules and waited for the newbie to raid again.
He was eager for his next chance.
With the confidence of a raging bull, he stormed into the opposition camp once
more. But this time, they were ready. A sudden movement to his left distracted
him, providing the window the opposition needed. A player on the extreme right
made a swift move and kicked his ankle with all his might. He fell like a house
of cards, howling in excruciating pain. The opposition pounced on him like a
pack of hyenas, biting and tearing at him.
At that moment, something strange
happened. His soul left his body. For a moment, he couldn't fathom what was
happening. He saw his physical body struggling to return to his side, pinned
down by the opposition. But this was no longer the school ground; it was a vast
field of brown and gray. He found himself amidst a sea of people dressed in
ancient warrior outfits, fighting and killing each other. It looked like a war
zone, brutal and blood-curdling. Everywhere he looked, there was chaos and a
sea of red. He heard horror cries, whether of victory or death, he couldn't
tell. Arrows flew into chests, flaming spears punctured lungs. Elephants
trampled anyone in their path, while horses galloped, some carrying victorious
men, others carrying slain riders. The gruesomeness of the scene was
overwhelming.
A roar of laughter caught his
attention. Right in front of him, he saw his own physical form dressed in
shining armor and silken clothes, now stained with his blood. His body was
riddled with cuts and arrows. Surrounded by enemy warriors, he was too wounded
to fight but couldn't let go. With all his might, he tried to get up and
grabbed the wheel of his destroyed chariot. He swung it at his enemies, but the
move lacked strength. Someone kicked him from behind, and his last bit of
energy gave way. He crumpled to the ground, knowing it was over. As his enemies
continued to hack away at his almost lifeless body, he could no longer feel
pain. He wished his father could see how brave he had been, longed for his
mother's lap, and yearned for his wife's warm embrace. As his soul left his
body, he let out a final roar of anguish, pain, and rage, shaking his enemies.
Though they rejoiced in his downfall, they couldn't help but be in awe of the
warrior who had hit them like a storm.
“Like father like son” they all
thought alike!
Hovering above the scene, he
watched with a mix of horror and fascination. What had he just witnessed?
Before he could make sense of it, he felt himself getting sucked into an abyss
of darkness. He felt immense pressure on his body and tasted the blood from his
cut upper lip. He could smell the soil where his face was being pushed into.
Slowly, the pressure was relieved, and he saw it. His outstretched arm touching
the white line. They had won. He had won, singlehandedly. But the joy he had
always anticipated didn't come. His mind was still on the battlefield he had
just left. Questions flooded his mind like the arrows that had pierced the
young warrior’s body.
