Today I saw paradise, heaven and Johnny Cash’s tour bus.
And I saw it all live.
I could smell buddha, touch jesus and share an iced cream with muhammad.
I was skating with angels.
All of this happened in a wonderful place called Dambulla.
The pitch was sticky, the batsmen tentative, and the bowlers on top.
That was until our hero walked in.
That plump little man without a number on his back.
While others tried to bat, he batted.
It was as if he knew one of most devout the sehwagologists was there, and he reached out and touched me.
That is what Sehwag does, he reaches out and touches people, hard.
I could feel his pulsating talent all over me, and so could many others.
If you are a sehwagologist and you’ve seen him fail in real life that means you don’t believe enough.
It means that as a sehwagologist you are struggling.
You’re running tight singles, leaving balls you should be smashing and you aren’t just seeing ball and hitting ball.
Ofcourse, I am not a perfect Sehwagologist either.
I could have seen this balding prophet make his hundred, but something held me back.
Perhaps I’ll never know what it was, but he knew, and thusly he remained on 99*.
It was an important lesson, and one I will treasure.
It meant, you are close, but you don’t quite get it yet, come see me when you do and I’ll make a hundred so good you’ll need three pairs of spare undies.
Today I saw the right way to live through the eternal flame of awesomeness that is Sehwag’s batting.
Life can be tough, he showed us this, but you can still be better than everyone else just by following his teachings.
Now, go, love, fuck, hug and do everything that sehwag has taught us.
You can never go wrong, if you follow his batting.