Verbal Match Poem by HARVENDRA SINGH

Often, she and I play a verbal match—
Her speech, a soft ball,
Mine, a solid bat
That sends her words sailing.
Usually, I win;
It fills me with quiet confidence
And causes her no harm.

But that day, she seized the bat
With unexpected domination,
Leaving me standing with just the ball.
The commentary rose at once—
I bowled a wide, then a short one,
Trying to read her pulse,
Trying to dismiss her from the match.

But she struck sixes and boundaries,
Smiling as I ran out of breath.
I threw my overs in haste
And left her at the crease,
Unsatisfied—
Still swinging the bat with ease,
Waiting for a few more balls.

I left the pitch
Like a tired, defeated fellow.
Now her irritation searched
For her ever-solid partner
Who stayed longer with his bat
And pushed her balls softly