The Mysterious Man

Part 1

“Who’s that person?” I asked my coach, as we were packing our kits after a very tiring game of hockey that day. My coach was a strong person, even after such a long day at game today, he was still ready to play another set. He was all wet though because of the sweat. He looked at me after I asked him the question. I never spoke to him about anything other than the game until now, he was rather surprised. He then looked at the old man at the corner of the ground. He was sitting alone on one of the few chairs there, a small bag was beside him. After a small pause my coach said, “I don’t know, I’ve been seeing him for a long time too, I don’t know where he comes from or where he goes to, I don’t even know when he comes and goes either, but I see him everyday. He is excited about every good strike and exclaims at every goal made. I don’t think he supports any one team or any one player I’d rather say, I guess he just loves the game. At his age where he can no more play, he might just want to see others play. Anyways you take care and see you at tomorrow’s game” My coach chuckled when he made fun of the old man’s age, I smiled back at him but I didn’t like it. I wasn’t completely satisfied with his answer too. I didn’t want to believe that a person’s love for a game would drive him everyday to a hockey ground and make him sit for hours together. I could feel the excitement in his eyes whenever a goal was made, could feel the pain whenever a close chance was missed, his concern whenever a player was hurt, I strongly felt there was a reason much stronger for his presence everyday at the ground.

Every day as I entered the field my mind woule get diverted by his presence and I couldn’t concentrate on my game there on. One day I went upto him. “Good Morning” I said, I didn’t get any reply. I asked him if he came to see any of his people playing at our ground, asked him if he knew anything about hockey and many more questions. He didn’t answer even a single question of mine; he looked at me though, once or twice, but was silent all the time. His gesture made me more curious. He had a picture of a young boy beside him, the boy was in his game suit, his hockey stick held high, perhaps the son of this old man. I raised my voice, “Hello Sir, am talking to you”, he looked at me again, smiled for the first time, then he put the picture back into his bag, took out a pair of black glasses and put them on, a walking stick was beside him which he now held in his right hand, smiled again and tapping the ground with his waling stick, he walked away. HE WAS BLIND!!! All the time he wasn’t watching the game, he was just listening. I was shocked, I was speechless, I felt I made a mistake by shouting at him, he must have been hurt, this was the first time I saw him leaving the field, I hurt him. I thought about it all that day. I went to him to get some questions answered, but he left me there, with many more new questions in my mind. “Who is he, Is he really blind? He might have been a hockey player and lost his eyes in some accident, maybe he’s coming everyday to quench his thirst for the game but what was the picture of the kid doing there. I needed answers, I really did. So I went for my game next day, but was more concerned about the old man than my game. I looked around the field, I didn't find him, he was no where to be seen. He did not come, the ground seemed empty without him. Did I really hurt him so much? I was disappointed.

Part 2

I looked around for him the next day. I couldn’t see him but as I got ready for my game, I saw him. He was sitting at the other end of the field. I went to him and apologized and as expected he never spoke, I was so sad for not getting a chance to apologize. I turned around to move away, a smile came along in me as my heart felt lighter.

“Hey”, I heard. The Old man called me, finally he had something to say.

“So, you wanna know why am here to watch your game everyday though am blind. You wanna know why I cheer every person playing hockey though I don’t know him. No one ever asked me and I never told anyone. Alright, here you go”. He held the picture of the boy in his hand and showed it to me. “This is my son. He used to play hockey and I never liked it. I wanted him to concentrate on his studies, I wanted him to be more serious about his life but all he wanted to do was play hockey. I never encouraged him; I never understood that this was what he wanted to do in his life.”

“What is he doing now?” I asked.

He smiled again. “It was not until one day, when I wanted to take my son to a science fair. As always, he didn’t want to join me but wanted to play his game. He never wanted to come but I took him by force. I didn’t know then that I’d have to pay a huge price. We were on our way and then my car hit a curb, the next thing I ever saw was darkness. I lost my eyes. This pain  of becoming blind was never felt coz what I really lost was far more precious,;my son. My guilt never left me, I killed my son with my own hands. Had I let him play his game that day, had I encouraged his interests, had I the motive to understand his interests, I would have him with me today. I never watched my son play, never seen him making goals like you do. many people told me he was an awesome player but I never really cared about it. So, I come here everyday to hear you guys play, I visualize my son in each of you, I see him playing. I clap on every good hit and exclaim on every goal, I encourage you guys as much as I could. Its only this part of every day that I enjoy the most. Every time I am in this field watching you kids play, I feel my son is beside me, smiling and talking to me. And so am here every day, though blind, to watch your game with my minds eye and feel my son's presence and hear him talk again” Saying so, the old man smiled. I could never understand how he did it; he had pain filled completely in his heart and still he managed a smile. He got back to where he was sitting and took his son’s picture into his hands. I did not have a word to say, I silently went back to my game, got the answers for all my questions, those which I never knew were so in depth. The mysterious man was no more a mystery to me. I spoke to him everyday after that, tried to fill in the gap of his son. In him I saw a friend, a mentor and a father.

THE END