Anthony sings the blues

Friends, Indians, countrymen, lend me your ears;

I come to observe Sachin’s career, not to praise it.

The evil that men do lives after them;

The good is oft interred with their bones;

So let it be with Sachin. The noble nation

Hath told us Sachin was ambitious:

If it were so, it was a grievous fault,

And grievously hath Sachin answer’d it.

Here, under leave of the nation and the rest–

For we as a nation are full of honourable men and women;

Come I to speak in Sachin’s defence.

He was my friend, faithful and just to me:

But the nation says he was ambitious;

And the nation is honourable.

He hath brought many victories home to India

Whose ransoms did the BCCI coffers fill:

Did this in Sachin seem ambitious?

When that the public have cried, as in Chepauk in 1999 against Pakistan, Sachin hath wept:

Ambition should be made of sterner stuff:

Yet the nation says he was ambitious;

And the nation is honourable.

You all did see that on the balmy World Cup in England

He could have slunk away for his father, a no mean excuse.

Which he did not and came back for the team: was this ambition?

Yet the nation says he was ambitious;

And, sure, the nation is honourable.

I speak not to disprove what the nation spoke,

But here I am to speak what I do know.

You all did love him once, not without cause:

What cause withholds you then, to celebrate his career?

O judgment! thou art fled to brutish beasts,

And men have lost their reason. Bear with me;

My heart is in the memories, there with Sachin in the memories,

And I must pause till it come back to me.


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