The first time I picked up a badminton racket my father told me to either play to make the village proud or forget about it and focus on my studies.
When I repeated these words to my coach, he nodded solemnly, saying nothing, but implying a hundred different things.
It was the same look Coach was giving me today: intense and intentional, like he was reiterating the purpose of his life to accommodate my victory.
The journey till here was not a breeze – there were tears, blood, sweat, fights, and expectations. All of which I intended to meet.
When I looked into my opponent’s eyes, on the day of the most important match of my life, the one that would take me to nationals and give my village a reputable name, I saw a glimpse of the same pain and struggle. His life echoed mine. But the first lesson Coach had given me was to keep emotion out of business. The second was to keep my father’s promise.
So, I did. I know I did, because I saw it in his eyes- unshed tears and unspoken love, as he waved at me from the crowd, with a proud smile. I watched him watch me, as a whole troupe of well-wishers carried me on their shoulders. Howling and cheering, they took me back to the village, which now had a name of its own.
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