Sara reads this wonderful account of 11 year old Aryam from Jaipur about chasing his dream to become a football player. And what was her response?Sara says, ” Yes Aryam, you really hit goal with that beautiful line in the end- a fractured hands can heal in 10 days but a fractured dream? We do learn some of the best life lessons from sports , dont we?”
#Sarareads: Story-Football – My dream, My life
Sometimes, on cold and windy nights, sleep did not come that easy to me. It was one such night. I was lost in thought, wondering what I should become in life. Engineer? Doctor? Nah. My eyes were fixed on the most prized possession in my bedroom – my football. With my football, I had had wonderful times. I enjoyed my wins and learnt to improve
through defeats. I realized that this is what made me happy. I decided I would be a footballer. A goalkeeper who made the best saves for his team. I felt better and went to sleep.
The next morning, I woke up earlier than usual and told my family excitedly that I wanted to be a footballer. They said yes!
Delighted and completely inspired, I started practising, playing matches, joined an academy and started improving my game and skills in football.
Football was my life and my hardwork soon began to show. I won six trophies including 3 golden gloves, given to the best goalkeeper.
One day I received a call I had been waiting for long. It was a trial match for a junior state level selection. The coaches and selectors sat in the side, watching the match in full concentration. I was nervous but eager to make a good impression. It was a tough game and we were leading by a goal.
With minutes left for the match to end, the striker hit the ball hard and I dived to stop it. Everyone cheered as I made the save and our team won but I was in a lot of pain. I had fractured my hand.
Seeing me in a cast, my father said “Child, from now onwards we won’t allow you to play football. We don’t want you getting hurt.”
I felt sad hearing this as football was still my dream. I had another sleepless night afraid that I will not be selected for the state’s junior level team due to my fractured hand.
The next morning my father got a phone call which went on for long. I was curious as to who it was. My father came to me with a big smile.
“Child, I just got a call from the coach of Rajasthan’s junior football team. You are selected.”
I screamed in joy and lifted my hand only to remember it was in a cast.
“But my fractured hand? How will I play? And you said I shouldn’t play anymore,”I asked my father.
My father laughed and patted my back.
“Fractured hands can heal in 10 days but a fractured dream? You must go on to play and make your country proud.”
I hugged my father and looked at the football in my room. I was sure I would have another sleepless night dreaming about playing for the Barcelona football club.