For Jumbo

He was not what you call a master
He was not what you call a blaster
He was just a servant
Servant of the game

He was bespectacled, thick rimmed
Young and nerdy engineer type
Averse to any kind of hype
But eager like any beaver you ever saw

Nobody could read him
Nor batsman nor layman
He was the object of our ridicule
He was no less than a molecule
He was the reason we ragged in colleges
Any kid that that refused to fit in
He was the reason for our losses
He was the reason for our defeats
He was the reason we couldn’t fare better
As a nation, as a people, as a team

He was last choice captain
He was last man standing
He was broken in bandage
He was awoken in carnage

He was the very object of our scorn
Aren’t we happy now he’s gone?
He was the very object of our con
Aren't we happy now he's gone?
He was not Sachin, he was just Anil

He was not what you call a master
He was not what you call a blaster
He was just a servant
Servant of the game

He served in Antigua
He served in Sydney
He served in Delhi
He served in Perth
He served in Bangalore
He just didn’t serve in lore

He was just a servant
Servant of the game

The glasses have long gone
And so the man


Written on November 2, 2008