When the bough breaks, the cradle falls

For seven good years they denied this world the opportunity to see him perform at the highest level. The five wise men always denied him the stage. At last they gave him a chance at the 'theatre of Indian dreams', Mohali, and he didn't let us down. He was closing on to his mid-thirties, but had the spring in his step, the vigour in him to motivate a bunch of lazy bones. The Indian one-day cricket team had a fighter amongst 'em. Not an aging lion... but the ageless Phoenix!

He carried India through not once but on many occasions. Who could forget that memorable innings he played at Paarl against a resurgent Zimbabwe. What about the most awe-inspiring innings against Pakistan at Dhaka, making Saqlain look like a club bowler. The brilliant diving stop in the field, the spectacular catches (memory can't be that short, not to remember the catch he took off Ricky Ponting at Nairobi). The man who could always chip in with his useful medium pacers in the middle of the innings, picking crucial wickets. He is not a bit of everything. He is everything about positive thinking and attitude. His captains denied him his share of bowling or batting up the order. He always carries the smile on his face, the pride of playing for his country on his chest. He is a man grateful to be alive and to be playing an honorable sport for his country. He is not tainted with any allegations of match fixing. No manager or captain could ever write a negative report on this man. He always gave more than 140%.

Yesterday the five wise men (The Selectors) got together and denied us the pleasure of seeing an honourable man play for his country on the cricket field. I heard him talk with Karan Thapar on BBC, the other day. He is a man who knows too well about himself. Not an ounce of bitterness in him for all the disappointments of being made to sit out. I know, he would still have hopes of making a comeback. For he has always been on trial. Wait my friends, do not write his cricket obituary. Just a few days back he scored a brilliant century in the Ranji Trophy. He is alive and kicking. And still has the fizz in him as the most valuable bottle of champagne will have. In the USA they call guys like him the MVP (Most Valuable Player). He is Robin Singh.

To many, fairness is what the colour of the white horse's arse is. They call themselves just. Justice denied is life denied. The nation owes Robin Singh an apology, for we let the people make such macabre decisions. "When the bough breaks the cradle falls", Makers of players, what kind of players do you make?! What are the standards you set here?! How could we deny a man his rightful place in the team, merely on the basis of his age?! Something's rotten here. We the Indians know that. Good leadership is all about taking your best men to the battlefield and motivating them to victory. He who leaves his best men at home cannot be a good leader, no matter what his limitations are. If the crown of leadership be made of thorns, put that crown down! For there is more honour in being a man than being a leader of a mediocre lot.