Bhajji adieu?

Effete yet turning rasps of bile,

Your turbine arm did scalps compile.

Is this now gone as decline trips,

And age negates your turn and grips.

Abrupt, it’s not, your cast assunder,

The clasps have softened from your thunder.

And so the wary, louche soothsayers,

Take heart you won’t play in one dayers.

Those wobbles, squabbles, name mishaps,

The Sydney low and cheeky slaps,

Should not detract from dusty truth,

Of wicket theft and once great loop.

And though you hoarded to your guts,

Ripe scandal like a squirrel, nuts.

In Bangalore and Chennai rose,

A nation up as Punter froze.

And if this is to be bye, Bhajj,

Look back and say, ‘I made it large’.

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