The Old Man who Lived

 

Once upon a time, when the balance between the powerful and the meek had shifted, and seemingly irreversibly so, to the wrong side, a prophecy was made. "The meek shall not lose", it said, "they shall win ". But since the prophecy had been made by someone who was but one of the Meeks, someone who answered to the name of David Graveney, neither the Powerfuls nor the Meeks really took it seriously enough. After an epic battle on the first two days of the war, at the most hallowed battleground in the world, when the Meeks realized that the Powerfuls were not infallible, not invincible, the Powerfuls were stung into using weapons so deadly they should have been outlawed by the human race long ago. The Meeks had no answer to the Metronome, so straight, so pin-pointedly accurate. They failed to negotiate the Thunderbolt, who unleashed misery upon misery upon the hapless Meeks. It wasn't fair, but most things in life aren't. The Powerfuls even had in their midst a wizard, who could weave magic and confound his enemies into making mistakes and into looking as intelligent as a Communist. He would curl his weapon, almost like he was winding it up to strike like a great black cobra which would spit venom at his enemies. The Meeks suffered crushing blows and lost the battle. In an earlier era, with this one battle, the war would have been lost too. But fate knew that there was an infirm, but righteous Old Man to save, and he would die if the Meeks lost. Therefore, it had intervened and chosen one warrier who would not give up, who would display the qualities that made the Powerfuls so formidable. He was the Chosen One. He had joined the ranks 8 years ago, but had yet to fight a battle against these most powerful Powerfuls , until this war started. He reminded everyone of another great warrior who had laid to waste the Powerfuls in an era when the balance of Power was not as skewed as it was on this day. He had to put his hand up and be counted, which he failed to do in the first battle. But with the Old Man's life at stake, fate intervened. The Metronome got damaged and the Powerfuls lost their most subversive weapon. On the first day of battle the Chosen One then took the battle to the enemy camp and destroyed the Gypsy, the Thunderbolt and Wizard. On the second day of battle, he destroyed the enemy defences as he conquered 3 of the warriors defending the enemy fort. Then, just as the Meeks began to have hopes of a heady victory, the cunning Wizard struck a demoralizing blow. With a spitting cobra that breached the defences of a Meek warrior, the battle was in balance again, as Day 3 began. The Wizard, more powerful than Dumbledore the Wise, or Gandalf the Grey , threw curses left, right and center, unleashing the destruction that had made him the most feared name in most Meek households for more than a decade. The Thunderbolt was also hell bent on exacting revenge for the ignominy of Day 1.It seemd a battle gone wrong for the Meeks again. Till the Chosen One stood up. Alone. A bloodied warrier standing amidst the ruins. Battling a painful wound to his shoulder. Battling the great dark wizards of the enemy. Battling history. Battling for the Old Man's life. The Cunning Wizard's curses were repelled and rendered useless. The Chosen One then pulverized the Thunderbolt into submission and gave the Meeks new hope. He returned later to capture some of the most important defences of the enemy, helped by an ordinary footsoldier who had his big moment when he captured the darkest of the enemy, a dark wizard who must not be named. The battle was almost won. Almost. But day 4 brought all the nightmares of previous defeats back to life. Self doubts began creeping in. But the Old Man's life was important. It had to be saved. For all the things that are great and good, for all the things that the young need to learn, the Old Man had to be saved. And just when it seemd like the Powerfuls would call upon their great mental resources to emerge victorious again, the tall, lithe and graceful Meek warrior struck. The Battle was over. The Meeks had won. They had lived to fight another day. They knew the Powerfuls would come back at them hard, but for the time being, however, the Old Man had a new lease of life.

I join them today in celebrating English Cricket, the Old Man who Lived.