Still beating on the crease

Those were the days of the fifty's
when the game was not for him a fantasy,
Even as the sun above erupted,
he swirled, bowled and swept.
like a prey escapes a clench,
the ball would from his fist.
Now at an age only sixty one,
he lies confined and bed-ridden.
Watching the empty ceiling in peace,
his heart still beating on the crease.

I would like to dedicate these few lines to
mr.Muhammed Ibrahim.A great cricketer
of kerela Ranji trophy.

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