The familiar black grill gates marked the entrance to the Sports complex and signified the end of the walk and the start of the “best part” of the “best part” of the day.I would have then started to paint the vivid pictures that in the best case would convert themselves to what people would call the “wonder goal”.
As we enter the shadows formed by the huge tree on the left and quickly scan through the ground to gauge the absentees, quickly abuse the people who would be coming in late, a familiar feeling would hit me, the feeling that says, “Welcome home son”.
I know its too commonly used and has become an insult to the English language off-late ,but i think here it fits. Its very difficult to express what i go through in those 2 or so hours in words. I would say all the guys whom i generally played with every evening were on the same level, apart from one or two, and more than the technical skills and proficiencies involved it was the free will and the love for the game that made those days “legendary”.
Usually, the evening ended with a detailed discussion of the football and some times( very rarely owing to a few nut heads) anti football that was created/witnessed.
Those were the moments of my typical day at BIT Mesra.
Those were the typical evenings,that stayed.
Those were the best evenings , when i played.
My Glory days .