The past few weeks have been abuzz with the hype surrounding
Sachin's century of centuries and the entire cricketing world seems to
be obsessed with it. The generally hostile Australian media is showering
praises upon the little master, the rowdy, ruthless crowd gives a
standing ovation to him every time he walks out to bat, twitter is
tweeting, and every cricket expert worth his salt seems to deliberate
upon what might be wrong about the great man. Let's not get into
statistics here. And neither speculate about when he might get the
elusive 100. It will come...But what has already arrived is something
more special. This note is about that.
People living in
different time-zones are all up and ready watching Sachin bat. Morning
has come early, work can wait. Classes can be sacrificed, meetings can
be postponed. Not merely because we are waiting for him to score an
academic century. But to appreciate the way he is going about his job.
His batsmanship in the Australian series has been almost surreal. Yes,
he has shown signs that he is human, going into his shell, and then
hesitant at times. And yet, when he has gone about his job, he has made
it look effortless. The cricketing arena is the only place where Sachin
can be himself. Be free of the pressure, of the craving and the divine
worship. He is the slave, carving out his invocation to the Cricketing
Gods. And the Gods have been kind to him, and to us.
Throughout his career, Sachin has been plagued by the debate and the
comparison between him and Brian Lara. Lara, to me, is almost the last
remnant of the West Indian era gone by, almost a Viv Richards born a
millionaire. That arrogance of youth, the nonchalance of too much money.
It showed in his cuts and pulls, his frequent disagreements with the
Cricket board. Sachin is the Working man industry, a reverent priest
dedicating his entire life to the service of the great game. And the
Gods have been kind to him, and to us.
The reason why people
of my generation owe a part of our lives and growing up to him is
subtly more significant that all the records he has created and
destroyed. But because he represents something of the way India has come
up, something of the manner in which people growing up in the 90's
found their feet. Here was someone, who could go all out, keeping the
field restrictions and the then 15 over rule. Today's youngsters who cry
and crave for the hitting skills of Dhoni and Warner have missed the
look of terror on the faces of bowlers marking their run-up, walking up
to Sachin. Careers have come to an end, Captains have resigned. And here
we have cheered, because someone broke the shackles of a timidly
glowing self-belief and stamped his authority on the world. Gone were
the days of Gavaskar, grafting out a century. Here was Sachin, smashing
his way to making a statement. We went to work with our head held sky-
high, exam fever was faced with the belief, that if Sachin could tackle
Perth, Auckland, then so could we, calculus and the rubbing down of our
bosses. The morning after a Sachin century, the sun was brighter,
newspapers came up with epic headlines, classrooms were fish-markets,
and people fought less inside public buses during office hours..His fall
was our fall..when he raised his arms and opened his helmet, he was a
warrior, fighting a war for us. An injustice against him was an
injustice against the whole race.
Oh Sachin, you have made us
weep tears of Joy. You made us discover new superstitions, made us
choose you over our wives and girlfriends and made us come up with new
excuses for playing truant. You have made ardent cricket admirers of
grandmothers, made the whole of India pray in unison. India lacks an
emblem which brings the country together, even VANDE MATARAM seems to be
politically loaded and communally sensitive. Not you...You have been
our national anthem. Our national symbol. Our adrenaline. Make us wake
up early mornings. Make us sleep late at nights...100 is just another
number...
