As you read this, volumes have
been spoken, written and read about Muhammad Ali. While many would have hailed
him as an iconic figure in the arena of Boxing, others must have rightly
described his humane qualities as an individual including his fight against
social evils. But for me, he was and shall forever remain my first sporting
hero.
Way back in the early 80’s, as
any normal school going kid, I too had no loyalty fixed towards any particular
sports discipline. But what remained unchanged amidst the constant battle of
likes between badminton, cricket or football was Muhammad Ali. I remember those
days most of the kids kept posters of Kapil Dev, Steffi Graff or Bruce Lee
pasted on their room wall. No wonder, every time a new school friend walked
into my room would keep staring at the Ali’s huge framed poster donning my
wall. It was so strategically placed on the wall that every time I looked into
the only mirror in my room, I could see Ali clinching his fist and ready to
punch looking towards me.
It had become a daily ritual
that just before I left for my school early morning and returned back late
afternoon, we would exchange punches at each other. Without my knowledge, once
my father clicked a photograph of me posing into the mirror looking at Ali’s
frame and trying to counter his punch. Next day he handed the black and white
photographs to me, of the famous mirror bout between me and my hero Ali. It
still remains as one of the top WOW moments of my life.
Honestly, at that time I did
not follow boxing at all, but I simply admired Ali who could knock down his
opponents with his sheer speed and might. Anybody who would try to bully me in
class, I would warn him that he is inviting Ali’s knock-out punch by doing so.
I never had the guts to deliver one, that’s the different matter. But Ali
continued to be part of my strength from time to time.
With the passage of time,
shedding the kid’s robe and embracing the youthful bliss everything underwent a
transformation. The mirror in my room was gone and so was the poster of my
iconic hero.
Later, in the hustle bustle of
earning one’s daily bread and butter, whenever I came across a mention of Muhammad
Ali, my mind would quickly go back to school days. Just the way it did on
Saturday. This time I was feeling the guilt, of letting my first ever sporting
hero lapse behind my memory. I felt that I that I didn’t deserve to write a
word about the man who gave me the strength when I needed the most only to be
forgotten by me in the later stages of my life.
My hero left so many of his
opponents gasping for breath in the boxing ring, the very necessity to breathe took
him away from all of us. It’s time for me to go back and hunt that poster
frame, while you my hero, prepare for yet another bout against me. This time it
is not in mirror, but in heaven. One day I shall meet you in pride, till then
Rest in Peace….MY HERO!
