रात

कब आती हो कब चली जाती हो

कुछ इल्म ही नहीं होता

तुमसे इतनी बातें करनी हैं

राज़ खोंलने हैं किस्से कहने हैं

पिछली बार जब चाँद की

शमा जलाकर हम तुम बैठे

थे तो दिल की न जाने

कितनी गिरहें खोली

कितने सवाल बीने

बहुत सुकूँ मिला

सुनो .. इस बार

थोडा रुक के जाना

Go Team India, Go !

In the last few hours before the final showdown, I decided to draw up a few words ...

Tonight, my men

when you play

on the field.

Who will you

play for ?

For the beautiful

people who could

pay and come

to see you play.

Or for make-do

bourgeois who

can still see

you from their

easy sofa sets as

they go about

their daily day.

Or for that

impoverished kid

probably cleaning

tables in some

dhaba as he

intensely tries

to listen to

your score on his

master's TV or

some radio at bay.

Or may be for

yourself, for your

own glory, or for

your own passion,

or just so that so

you can say.

Whoever it be,

you'll have our

adulation. For it

is not you

but what you're

out to achieve

that's bigger than

anyone's private

possession. Go

my men, go

bring back the cup

for this torn

nation, for this

confused generation,

for this wretched

starvation. In

times like these

when we need to

look up, In times

like these, trust me,

we need this cup.