SPIDER'S SILK (Part 1)

It was almost over. All that i had worked for, given my life to.And I could think of nothing to stop the inevitable....
"11 to 14. Aasif to serve, "he announced again. I knew what the referee meant. I wasn't that numb after all. And that was why I understood that the boy in front of me was on the game point mark, while I still had to win 4 points to make my first final game and all of my decisions stand good. I looked at my opponent and a shiver ran down my spine. I instantly felt cold. It was as though he had been sent from God s the only chance for me to prove for once that I was correct. And the memories that had made it so washed over me in a moment...

My parents had talked to me. This was not the first time, and I had known what to expect-the same questions-"Does this stupid game matter to you more than us?". "Aren't you aware of anything that goes on in this house?We're poor. Very poor. And instead of helping us in running the house, you run off to play that stupid game! We made you. And now you have become shameless enough to not even try to fulfill our wishes, give anything back?" And I used to have no answer to that. How could I have told them that no, it was not the only thing that mattered to me, but still the only thing that had kept me going for so long...that the court in the academy was the one place where I was free...with nothing to worry about..that I loved the power that pulsed through me when i exerted myself to the fullest.... and yet I couldn't direct the same power to improve my family's condition.. that the dilemma I was in was killing me.. and I didn't know how to stop it...

And yet that day was different., for there sat a much unexpected audience to my regular-trial coach...

The referee was eying me incredulously,  obviously not understanding the flood of emotions that was washinng through my mind just then. To save him the embarrassment, I picked up the shuttle-cock. I knew I could not afford to lose even one point at this moment. It would sabotage everything, all the hopes that my coach, and even myself, had for me.

That day, he had handed me the form. I knew what it was, from the Indian Sports Association logo at the back. He had once asked me to play professional, but I could never dare to approach my parents with this. But he had. I knew it was my only chance to get away from it all, to give an answer to all the questions that my parents had fired at me.

I served. The opponent played it with a drop-shot. I pulled myself forward and stretched down to one knee, and played the drop with a box. That took him by surprise. He lost his center position in the court and went back to hit, but was not able to play it with anything better than a swing. And that was it. I hit the shuttle-cock with a smash that landed right at the serve line, and i got a point. But that didn't matter.. the joy of having proved myself to my coach overshadowed everything else...

I should take a puff from the inhaler, I thought. But it didn't seem like the referee would give me a break to ease some of the pain that I felt due to my major asthma without annoying himself too much. And so i continued to serve.
     I knew what to do. Just a smash-dodge and a drop shot. It was easy and so I got that one.
I still needed two more points, and yet I did not know how to do it. I constantly encouraged myself. Images flashed behind my eyelids. Every time I blinked, I thought of my new life. Once i won this game, I would never have to stand before my parents as a culprit again. I would be able togive them all the pleasures they were denied.  And that did it. It set me on fire. I had to do it. There were no two ways about it...

contd...