Badminton

Dedicated to Prakash Padukone

Badminton

    That ex-girl friend

    Who made you run and wait,

    For who you still buy

    Birthday gifts and chocolate

    And not send them but

    Remember the old days instead.

Badminton

    That 20-yard court yard

    And 2 and half foot blade

    Black shoes and socks red

    Brows wet under bandana softly tied

    Noise floor high around

    And total calm inside.

Badminton

    I was a King when I played

    In command of my land

    And a pauper when I was late,

    With no dime to bribe my death.

    Either as a solo or a duet

    It always took away my breath.   

    

Badminton

    A battle that rages

    Not so much as in your head

    A bear-hug, tip-toe dance

    With sure feet and deft hands

    Sharp eyes and open stance

    You played as if "no second chance".

Badminton

    It was a thread, 

    That held the body and the spirit.

    A pathway to fantasy land

    From a life so staid

    You timed your jump just right

    To reach for the stars overhead.

Badminton

    An old injury still wet

    Memory of a lost hand,

    A broken home and shrill pets,

    Those partners in crime

    Who I didn't understand,

    And tears that I alone shed.