Poem: Viv at 70?

By Dr. Archan Mehta

Viv:

Man, happy birthday,

But I can’t believe you are

Past 70 now and presumably

A shadow of your former self.

Viv:

Man, you will never

Know what your swagger

Meant to this tiny boy

Growing up in a crude,

Rustic, feudal village,

Which claimed to be

The city of Ahmedabad.

Viv:

Man, every time

I think about you,

I discover tears of

Joy in my eyes.

Viv:

Man, you demonstrated

Naked aggression at

The crease, treating fast

Bowlers and spinners alike

With equal disdain and contempt.

Viv:

Man, your arrogance and

Egotistical demeanor inspired

A generation of younger cricketers.

Viv:

Man, you are older now

And so am I, my friend,

But memories don’t age

And memories linger

Over time, and remind us

Of our golden childhood:

Watching and playing cricket

In the wild, open outdoors.

Viv:

Man, you never wore

A helmet and relied on

Your instincts to hook, pull

And smash beamers and bouncers

To the fence for boundaries and sixes.

Viv:

Man, back home in India,

I noticed how your own

People, the West Indians,

Honored and celebrated your

Glorious achievements with

Their traditional and trademark,

Caribbean Calypso, with smiles

And laugher for their King of Antigua.

Viv:

Man, today the masses

Often tell me that

You are now over

The hill and past your prime,

But what do the masses

Know anyway?

Sometimes, nostalgia keeps

Us alive when reality is ugly.

Viv:

Man, I want you to know

That you are my childhood

Hero, a living legend, an icon

And you will always remain

Immortal in my heart and soul.

Viv:

Man, you have crossed 70,

But 70 is just a number,

And every cricket lover

Knows that a guy like

You can never age, and

Your legacy will endure,

Rest assured, my black brother,

I salute you, Sir Vivian Richards!

*********