“Quiet Please”, said the chair umpire and the score board read ‘40-30 : 6-3 . 6-5’. All I was hoping was that my first serve goes straight to the point where I intend it to. Nothing in the world seemed more important than this one shot. Dad had closed his eyes unwilling to see the ball going anywhere else, of which the probability was quite high. Mom had a tensed look in her eyes hoping that this shot marks the finish of the National Championships. ‘Concentrate, this is one moment where you could feel anything but nervous’, I said to myself. And as I toss the ball, I could see not just my eye balls rolling up, but of the entire crowd around me. The ball goes high in the air and before it starts its descent – Zzzaatt! It falls almost on the ‘T’ and hits the opponent’s racquet frame, never to be seen again! That is it! It’s done! The chair umpire announces ‘Game, Set, Match – Shareef. 6-3, 7-5’.

That one moment – that walk towards to the net to shake hands with other guy, that first look I gave to my parents and vice versa, and that night where all I could do is repeat ‘Thank You’ to anyone who came to congratulate me – that moment still is stored in the most safest and impregnable part of my brain. If I could ever go back to one time in my past to experience something all over again, it’s certainly this one. Never ever was I so happy on the Tennis court. And never ever did I find such joy in being exhausted and tired.

As I recall all of this, sitting on that part of NALSAR’s Boys Hostel terrace which is fancily called the ‘Dark side of the moon’, I get a feeling that it was all just a dream. Maybe I woke up or maybe I’m still dreaming. Maybe I’m something else in reality or maybe I’m just a character in someone else’s dream. How exactly am I to believe that one day I was holding a National Tournament’s trophy and on another day I’m sitting beside a shrinking lake gazing at millions of stars? Did all of it really happen to a tiny speck like me who’s on this particle called ‘planet’ which is hurling through the infinite blackness? But wait, it’s not all that unbelievable, is it? You just don’t value something until it’s lost. It never crossed my mind at that time that the memories that very moment had framed would be revisited a hundred times. I remember not being satisfied then. Yes, I wasn’t. I had lost Doubles in Semis and I was just regretting not doing what I did in Singles. I wanted more and I looked at those kids who had this very moment of glory way more number of times than I did. How much ever you do something or achieve something, you still feel incomplete. I guess that’s one of the most remarkable things of life – It’s never so good that it cannot get better and, sometimes, it’s never so bad that it cannot get worse.

And all such transcendental experiences are met only you sit alone and think of the past events. When the glory you once had is no more, I think the higher power should have the decency of stripping you of the knowledge that you even had it. But I’m not all that sad. I shouldn’t be. Maybe one day I’ll sit at some place similar and reminisce this exact moment. Where it’s just me! – sitting under this infinite blanket of blackness, gazing at the stars and thinking of the mysteries of creation. Yes, I will.