Remembering Ayrton Senna

The year was possibly late 80 or early 90, a time when India had not woken up to satellite television, and the world was still dark for an average Indian. The only window to sports outside were glossy sports magazines, and boy they left impressions.

One such magazine landed with me, and I was introduced to the phenomenon of racing called "Ayrton Senna". A wonderful story about a man, his machine and his sheer skills to rule speed. An ultimate boy wonder, a legend, and Ayrton Senna was at its' very pinnacle. The fascination grew to fanaticism when Ayrton Senna started appearing live on television sets and life seemed good when races captured the imagination of both the mind and heart.

The move to Williams was filled with excitement of witnessing history fortnight-after-fortnight. Senna's' wheels didn't turn to compete, they had only one goal, to win, and win with a margin. It appeared sometimes, he raced not with mortal racers but something far more than that. An era was unfolding.

Then the fateful day, the light suddenly gives way to darkness. I had never shed tears out of sheer grief till that day. It felt like something so dear to you and someone you took for granted has been so mercilessly taken away, that you are left hopeless.

Till date, I have never been able to accept any F1 driver as the champion, as the real champion lays in peace and the second-best continue to drive.

Rest in peace O lord.