Fleeting ecstasy

The wait is excruciating. The eyes are strained, boring into the camera. The breath is held in anticipation and anguish. The heartbeat does not slow down, rather one can hear one’s own heart running a mile and minute. The knees slightly bent and arms held aloft, the supple wrists are held in an awkward position; almost as if they are deformed. The eyes contract. Your hearts tells you to skip a beat. That’s right, your brain wishes you to stop breathing. You take a sharp breath in. You can see a red object aimed at ‘your’ centre of gravity. The form moves, the legs shuffle a very small shuffle, almost imperceptibly; blink and you will miss it. By now your pulse slows down. The cherry has almost reached the body; you take in another short quick breath fearing that you may faint. Then you start thinking that the arms may come down too late because they are held so high. The ball is faster and zoning into the legs. This is it; it’s never going to come down on time. For a fleeting moment hope gives way to desperation. Then deliverance arrives. The rapier like slash and the bat comes down on time. You let your breath out. The suspense, the thrill and the fleeting ecstasy of watching Brian Lara bat.