Within a few hours we shall have 2 teams sweating it out against each other for one last time for the coveted trophy in Brazil, with the final match being played out at the historic Estádio Maracanã in Rio de Janeiro.
While some may face terrible withdrawal symptoms after this month-long tournament has concluded, I can't help but think of what this tournament in particular has taught me and all of us.
Once upon a time there was a young man called Nelton D’Souza. Nelton believed he had a very special gift of writing stories that moved one and all. This craving to write didn’t let him sleep at night. Every time and everywhere, be it on the bus or while doing mundane things or when he was by himself, his mind would wander to lands unknown where he would meet people unseen. Those people were like any other, but beyond their faces lay immense pain from the battles they fought on a daily basis. When Nelton didn’t write he would be enveloped by sadness but whenever he did, inspite of a tiring twelve hour workday and another four hours of travel, he would find a new sense of joy and vigour. Nothing made him happier than writing. After all it was writing which allowed him to escape into a world which was not judgemental and where he could be the hero slaying beasts, demons and fire-spitting dragons alike.