Ode to an Athlete - The Selfish Being

Ode to an athlete

Atul -  2012

I am an athlete. I haven’t won any medals in Olympics, nor even participated in one. But on an early morning run, when my body has started talking back to me, sometimes, many a times I have carried my aching legs over the finish line on the wings of my desire alone. I have cut through water, pain and sometimes even boredom on my hundredth lap in the pool because I must. I have pushed my burning legs and throbbing lungs over the hill one more time on my bike, because I must.

My friends and family come to cheer me on race days. They see the grimace of pain and elation of finish on my face. They hi-five, they celebrate and they leave.. But on a thousand on cold winter mornings  I am hi-fiving to myself. On endless hot summer afternoons I suffer defeat and celebrate success alone.

I have seen many a sunrise in the meditative stillness of early morning. But even when Lord’s creation is still,  I find myself moving. 

I am an athlete. In movement alone, do I find peace.

Selfish Being

Atul -2022

The shining medals are for all to see

the chafing and bruising are mine alone

the victory laps you can celebrate with me

but the aches and pains are my own

finish lines and PRs, you will get to know

the nerves and fears I share with none

victory toasts I will make with you

losses but, I take on my own

Early morning runs you will know of some

4am crawl from bed is mine alone

to celebrate the successes, I join the gang

gut wrenching failures but, are just my own

I will share the pictures of the mountain top

about bleeding toes, you will never know

oh the conquered peaks you will get to see

bruised ego and failed attempts, are mine alone

My body is trained to be brick and steel

Inside me though, there is a softer core

I fret and cry just as much, you see

though none of it you will ever know

I may win a game or lose one too

but nauseaus pre-game guts, you’ll never know

I get to be easy, on all but me

that’s my burden to carry home

when injuries hit and I am side-lined some

I miss being there, more than you”ll know

to hit the trail or to toss some balls

just to be in the arena that’s my own

Life’s hearth is same for everyone

I choose to burn, just a little bit more

rusting out, I will not choose

burning out, is where I feel at home

This tale is not of me or of you alone

but also the one, across the road

who nods or a gives a friendly wave

while toiling alone on the endless road

when you step out next, on the lonesome road

you should know that you are not alone

there is your ilk, made of the fabric same

cheering you on, even when you don’t know

I am selfish being, I am a selfish being

would let none transgress into my private store

coz thats where I hoard the real stash

of battle scars that I cherish the most

P.S.

there will be a time, when my body fails

and I can’t make it work like now you know

my heart will play and frolic still

on them trails and hills, yonder though