Trudging cautiously with eyes grounded to the floor fearing that a blink may make him fall, an old man dragged himself to the court. He was accompanied by a fairly stout lady who walked even more slowly towards the other side of the court. Yes, they were all set to play Tennis!
I gaped with mouth wide open from the nearby court seriously wondering how they would manage a game. Man did the first serve ensuring that ball hits within the reach of the lady. The lady took a beautiful back stroke and passed the ball back with hidden agility. The ball went few feet away from the old man, who was sure about the walk to pick the ball. It took nearly 5 minutes for him to get the ball to resume game. The lady was profusely shouting “sorry” and that did not deter the game. They played for 15 mins with a maximum of 8-10 shots. Finally, they collected all the balls and retired to the bench nearby for rest without an iota of irritation in their faces.
What is the spark burning in them for this game? Does 15 minutes of play worth enduring the hardships they displayed? And strangely, that spark has gone extinct in me – I had to literally drag myself to the court to catch up a game for half hour. Iam embarrassed and no words…