Men do cry

Who said that men don't cry???

As we watch the curtains are drawn for Argentina when the referee blows the final whistle to conclude the event which many thought would be a final before the final but eventually turned out to be a one sided affair, we see the moist eyes of world's some of the greatest heroes, we see celebration and jubilation on one side and pain and dejection on the other.

This is not the first time I saw something of that sort but this is surely the first when I pondered over the reason.

For a split of a second I thought that "we" lost and the randomness of the sadness quotient chose us to be the victim which we boldly could not defy.We definitely could not stand before "The Beautiful Game" casting its magical spell, mesmerising with a magic wand and leaving us spellbound and speechless before moving to the next random victim to cast its spell to. And then we realize its the tune of the national anthem, its the color and pride of the jerseys, its the hopes and dreams of the millions and millions of people, its the anxious wait for the next, its the tiny reason to get appreciated, its the sheer love of the profession, its the struggle to prove the world which gets tied to a string which simply goes and binds the heart and finally disturbs the tear glands.

With this I take a bow to "The Beautiful Game" and its astronomical power to unite people of our planet who are separated by mountains, oceans , climates , cultures rituals and geographical boundaries. I hope it continues to unite and enthrall us in the future and as I sign out I wholeheartedly wish that when I get older , I will be stronger , they call me freedom, just like a waving flag...waving flag... waving flag......