Tendulkar and the long hard walk towards sunset

Images are mine, taken from TV

Sometimes, one has to make the most difficult choice in the world since it is the only choice which is there to be made, with no other choice available. The choice I am alluding to is the choice to walk away, to walk away from something you love, to walk away from something you have held on to for such a long time, to walk away from something you thought you would never have to walk away from, to walk away from something you never wanted to walk away from in the first place, to walk away from the thing which wants you to walk away from it knowing well that it would hurt, even destroy, you in many ways.

But then, life is like that. It does not like it to be taken for granted and if you do so out of ignorance or blithe, it sends a reminder in the harshest manner possible. This is what consumed Sachin Tendulkar on the day he had to walk away from the very 22 yards over which he had spent a greater part of his 40 years. It was a cruel reminder that he couldn't take something for granted and a day would inevitably arrive when he would have to take the hardest walk of his life, hardest because it was a walk away from his life, because it was the walk he never intended to take in the first place, because it was the walk which must have come at the cost of a thousand unshed tears and unexpressed sighs.

 In my own personal life too, I have faced situations when I had to walk away from things which were, and still are, very close to my heart. I remember the streak of tear which brushed past my lips on the last day of my college. I had kissed my desk before vacating the classroom never to return to a place I had fallen in love with and had become accustomed to. The tear was a reminder of how I had taken the exuberance of a college ambience for granted. So the pain was foreseeable when that ambience was wretched out of me after my three memorable years of graduation. I cried when I had to end a beautiful relationship and I was lost when I had to walk out of a sweet friendship.

Just when I was beginning to take a few friends for granted, life intervened again and wretched them out of my life! And when Sachin was walking away from the dusty brown pitch for the final time after bending down and giving it an obeisance that spoke for their 3 decades of chaste relationship, he could not suppress his tears. It was then that the gravity of his long walk registered on me. I urgently pressed the red button on my television’s remote, collapsed over the sofa and burst into tears. I cried and cried and cried until I paid off for all the smiles Sachin had given me since my childhood. Ironically, I had only a few salty tears to pay for those smiles. And when I ran out of tears, my heart was left grappling with a void too deep to be ever filled back again. Sachin was gone. Just when I had got used to his presence, life had wretched him too. But no matter how hard it may try, life will never be able to wretch his memories out of my heart. It was a long hard walk back to sunset for both of us. It was a difficult walk but a journey well lived.

~Ritesh Agarwal

Email: ritzy182000@gmail.com

Author’s Bio: At 28, Ritesh Agarwal is too much in love with his childhood memories to be christened an adult. A major part of those memories have something or the other to do with Sachin Tendulkar who has been a constant in Ritesh’s life ever since he was ten. When not reminiscing about Sachin, Ritesh spends his time pursuing freelance writing, weaving short stories, teaching high school students and eating tomatoes on the sly after midnight. 

Sachin, I hate you...

I hate you, not because you made me cry today, but because you abandoned me.

I hate you, not because you walked along with me for 17 years, but because you walked out of my life today, so suddenly, so brutally and so hurtingly.

When I met you for the first time in 1996, I was barely 10. But a few minutes with you and I felt that you're the one made for me, you're the one who shall journey alongside me towards the other end of my life. And I wasn't wrong. Like a true angel, you shed light on my path as you travelled beside my side, never abandoning me even for a moment; being the only constant in my life in all my smiles, my tears, my failings and my feats.

I thought that we were meant to be together, for eternity, for ever, for as long as my existence would continue. But no. Today, you let go of my hands, those same hands which you had first held when they were very tiny and the ones which have grown under your comforting grasp in all these 17 years. How could you be so cruel, so merciless, so indifferent as to crush that very soul whose every breath was uttered for you, whose every beating of the heart owed its music to you, whose every true smile was indebted to your presence, your happy presence, your constant and unwavering presence, come rain or snow.

I hate you, not because of the smiles you spread over me (within me) every time you wielded your magic wand, but because of the ruthless way you wiped them off every time you put your wand down.

I hate you, not because you journeyed with me for 17 long years, but because you never told me that your journey shall end much before mine, and that I shall have to traverse the final years of it without you, on my own, without those smiles and tears I had got accustomed to, without that magic wand which had become a part of my journey, without the beating of my heart, without your presence, your happy presence, your constant and unwavering presence, come rain or snow.........



Hate you (Always)

Yours (Always)

Ritesh

To God, with Love

“You may have gone, but you’ll always be in me

Enslaved by your thoughts, my heart was never free

Your memories aplenty, my soul shall never jade

Into nothingness, my love, you will never fade…”

-Yours (always)

Ritesh

Email: ritzy182000@gmail.com

Who is your favourite cricket commentator

Image: http://www.australiancricketsociety.com/

There are quite a few commentators who should be lauded for making cricket an engaging affair even when there is sloppy cricket being played around. Harsha Bhogle comes as a great package with very strong views, a touch of wit and that right balance between being diplomatic and being outspoken. Unlike Gavaskar who usually lets his personal ire come in the way, Harsha is admirably impassive. Regardless of the position of team India, he always presents a smiling face which often makes up for the lack of one on guys like Gambhir and Dhoni.

Navjot Singh Sindhu may have been lambasted for his over-the-top commentary but you can't help but admire the oratory skills of this man. Besides, with the encyclopaedic number of quotes and maxims that he has, I bet one Mr. Shakespeare would be turning in his grave, feeling a tad insecure about the future of his legacy.

And of course, who can forget what Tony Greig did during those twin Sharjah innings of Tendulkar. Clearly, Tendulkar wasn't the only man on fire that day.

140 character story- Freedom

Courtesy:Google Images

Loved

Venerated

Mocked

Despised

Today, the man designs his own coffin. Gets freedom after 25 years.

Yet, dies within.

Today…. Tendulkar retires

India vs. Australia score: Kangaroos tottering at 273/7

Ishant Sharma, who didn't get a haircut but finally came good

After heavens cried out in bucketfuls during the washed-out first day of the 3rd test between India & Australia in Mohali, the second day was eventful, exciting and dry! Australian captain Michael Clarke seems to be riding his luck with the coin and after winning the toss for the third time in the series, he again opted to bat first.

A defeated, bruised and depleted Australian side took field to India’s confident ones. Surprisingly so, the kangaroos struck gold with their opening partnership as David Warner and Ed Cowan put on a century-run stand. They were slow but steady, and anchored the ship without even a lurch in the morning session. Coach Mickey Arthur must be grinning deep down with the score card showing a happy sight of 139/0. But then the old chimera rose again to bare its venomous fangs. Ravindra Jadeja removed the destructive Warner who, at a personal score of 71, doled out a catch to skipper Dhoni. But no one, not even Dhoni, was prepared for what happened next.

The in-form and the lethal Clarke (who promoted himself at number three) got stumped for a first-ball duck. The scoreboard now read 139/2. The grin from Arthur’s face was beginning to fade heavily.

Out came Hughes who was due for a big score. But after surviving for 30 balls and scoring a paltry 2, he departed in the 31^st delivery he faced (out again to a spinner, Ojha was the slayer this time). With 151 for 3, kangaroos were beginning to wobble a bit and needed a gritty stand from the middle-order. And the next batsman Steven Smith indeed did some damage control as he added a few runs with opened Cowan till the latter was dismissed by Ashwin at a personal score of 86. The scoreboard was 198/4.

Brad Haddin and Smith then took the ship forward safely. But just when Aussies were looking good at 244/4, Haddin’s stumps were rattled by a swinger from the long-haired Sharma. Two deliveries later, Sharma struck again to send Henrique (0) back to pavilion. At 244/6, the kangaroos were now on troubled waters and India had smelled blood. Siddle (0) departed soon to Jadeja’s bamboozler. It was 251/7 and out came Mitchell Starc who threw around his bat for a well-crafted 20* (off 21 balls).

The day ended at 273/7 (104 overs) with Steven Smith (58*) and Mitchell Starc (20*) on the crease.

Amongst the bowlers, Jadeja did the maximum damage as he picked up 3 wickets. Ishant had an impressive outing (after a long time) and gave a major twin blow to the Aussies, while Ojha and Ashwin devoured one kangaroo each. Bhuvneshwar Kumar was the only wicketless and uneconomic bowler (ER- 5.40) of the day.

Overall, despite the strong foundation laid by the Aussie openers, their middle order collapsed heavily. From a powerful position of 139/0, they just succumbed to 273/7, thereby giving the edge to the Indians. Unless the kangaroo tail wags heavily, one can expect Indian batsman to walk out soon.

Match Summary (at the end of Day 2):

Australia- 273/7 (after 104 overs)

Top scorers: Ed Cowan (86), David Warner (71)

Top bowlers: Ravindra Jadeja (56/3), Ishant Sharma (41/2) 

~By Ritesh Agarwal

Email ID: ritzy182000@gmail.com

55 words: 48 hours

I looked heavenwards. My stoic eyes searched for him. He already appeared far-away though barely 48 hours had passed since I cremated my father.

But for a soldier, emotion is an unaffordable luxury. 

‘You have to battle on,’ I told myself, as I acknowledged the applause, put back my helmet and lowered my MRF bat.

[Author’s Note: There was a man who lost his father during the middle of the 1999 cricket World Cup. Shocked and shaken, he flew back to his native country, performed the final rites and returned to play one of the most emotionally inspiring innings (140 not out) ever seen on the cricket pitch. This piece has been penned from his perspective.]

Sachin Tendulkar: The day when the Messiah got crucified

23^rd December, 2012- the day would go down in my books as the day when a part of my childhood died, a day when the creator of all those memories carefully preserved all these years bid me adieu, a day when the ugly head of reality reared its fanged head to devour on my innocent dreams, a day when the coldness of the chilly December weather seemed warmer than the coldness of the cruelty being blared out by news channels, a day when the Lord himself decided to desert his most faithful devotee, a day when a small big man chose to walk away into the sunset, a day when the Messiah of Indian cricket got crucified by the heavy cross of his own gargantuan expectations, a day when the young blood made a mockery of old age, a day when my world turned upside down, a day when one phone call (from my friend) changed my life, a day when everything else became immaterial & redundant, a day when I mourned the death of One-Day cricket, a day when my childhood hero succumbed to the brickbats, a day when Sachin Tendulkar chose to retire.

All these years, I used to switch off the television when Sachin would get out. Now, WHAT FOR WOULD I EVEN SWITCH IT ON? Oh Sachin, why did you have to retire from ODIs; why did you have to exit so suddenly without any forewarning; why did you have to bow down before the millions clamoring for your blood; why did you have to walk out so silently and so quietly; why did you have to run that scalpel down my chest and into my heart; why did you have to desert your passion and desecrate my dreams; why did you have to grow old; why did you have to end the way you ended! This gentleman’s game of cricket can be so so cruel.

He steals a single, raises his bat and the entire nation orgasms.......

- No more of that. God hangs one of his boots. RIP ODI cricket :'(  

-By Ritesh Agarwal

Why IPL sucks

I would have had no grudge against T20 had it sat at the corner giving its due respect to test & ODI cricket. But when small things begin to take centre stage, thereby, pushing the giants on the periphery, then my blood boils up. One of the reasons I hate IPL is that it promotes T20. And second and more important reason I detest IPL is that it makes such a big bash with so much unwanted pomposity that much bigger international matches are sidelined into obscurity.
I'm not saying that you shouldn't or that I wouldn't follow IPL. Yous should watch it and I too would be following it (though not with even 20% of the fervor with which I followed India-Australia fixture Down Under) but well, little things should not be made to look like giants when they are merely minnows. In IPL, there's too much glamour, too much star power, too much opulence, too much media attention, too much money and yet too little "real" cicket. It's a pity that the BCCI maintains a 2-month long schedule for this silly, stupid, slambang thing (t20 is really no cricket). I rest my case.

17 Things you didn’t know about Sachin Tendulkar

You call yourself a Tendulkar fan? But do you know him in & out? Here are a few lesser know trivia about him you would love to feed yourself:

      1.      In the team bus, Sachin always sits on the front seat at the window on the left. (Is that superstition?)

      2.      Yes, he is, indeed, superstitious. He religiously wears his left pad before the right one. 

                                                                                                                                                                                                      3. Sachin is possessive about his gear. He doesn't like anyone touching his bats and gloves. He is so possessive about his Ferrari that he doesn't let wife Anjali drive it. 

      4.     Sachin loves narrating bedtime stories to his children. He has even invented a character called 'Rohan', the protagonist of all his bedtime tales.                                                                                                                  
            5.  He helps his children with the homework whenever at home, sometimes taking son Arjun's spelling tests.

      6.      He's hooked onto Discovery Channel and finds it informative and fascinating. 

       7.      Sachin Tendulkar and Sourav Ganguly were sent to Dennis Lillee’s MRF Pace Foundation in Chennai as schoolboys and instantly rejected. “You’d better try batting,” Lillee told them.

       8.      Tendulkar’s love for seafood is not a hidden fact. But did you know that on his day, Master Blaster can smash 15-20 prawns down into his belly in one sitting! Reportedly, he also used to have had vada-pav competitions with fellow-cricketers Vinod Kambli and Salil Ankola.

9.      Pasted on the inside of Sachin’s kitbag are pictures of Ganpati and Shirdi Saibaba, good luck message from his kids and the revered Indian flag. (Even the God believes in Gods).  

      10.  Believe it or not but the Little Master has a reservoir of knowledge about different wines. He once lectured a colleague on the correct technique of opening a bottle of champagne — explaining to him the precise number of times the cork has to be twisted before popping it.

      11.  Sachin is ambidexterous. He bats & bowls with right hand but eats & writes with his left hand (I guess you already knew this fact). 

      12.  Sachin likes to dip his glucose biscuit into his tea (yes, he is one of ‘us’).

      13.  You think Sachin hasn’t sledged? Tendulkar claims he has sledged only once, at Glenn McGrath during an ICC knockout tournament in Kenya in 2000, to put the quality quick off his game in helpful conditions. “The first thing I said was ‘Today I will hit you out of the ground’. He got really angry and sprayed the ball around. This was exactly what we wanted.” India won.

     14.  The first person to sledge Tendulkar was Allan Border.

     15.  Tendulkar is a fan of using computer analysis. “The computer does play an important role in today’s cricket. You forget so many things. With the computer you can store them. For me the biggest advantage is you can study the opposition. The computer provides you with that vital two or three percent difference,” he says.

     16.  During the days of his courtship, Sachin once went in disguise to a Mumbai theatre to watch Mani Ratnam's Roja with future wife Anjali. To make sure nobody recognised him, he sported a beard and a pair of spectacles. However, there was a disaster in store for the Little Master since he was recognised by fellow movie watchers when, during the interval, he inadvertently dropped his glasses. The couple had to leave the hall midway through the film.   

     17.  The Indian team has a system of monetary fines for players coming late (to the bus or a meeting or a function) and for flouting the dress code. But Tendulkar has never had to pay up in 22 years.

3 Reasons why Virat Kohli is not the next Sachin Tendulkar

Virat Kohli has done exceptionally well in recent times and it is pretty much apparent that the talented lad will script countless fairy tales in the forthcoming years. Statistically, he may even do better than Sachin Tendulkar, but here are the 3 reasons as to why he will never be able to fill the Master’s shoes:

1. Passion: It will be wrong to suggest that Kohli doesn’t have enough passion for the game. But while he is, merely, passionate towards the game, Tendulkar is BORN for the game. Kohli had, has and, after retirement, will have a non-cricketing life, but Tendulkar knows no wood other than his willow. He didn’t even clear his class 10 board exams; he boasts of no college degree; he has had no scandalous affairs or anything of significance other than his cricketing achievements. Sachin took birth solely to play cricket and the day he quits cricket, a part of him (the real him) will die. Yes, Sachin Tendulkar will die the day he hangs his boots :’(

2.      

 

2. Conduct: Kohli may have the swagger and a positive and so-called aggressive attitude. But his ferocious approach will never be a match for Sachin’s demure serenity. Kohli swears, shows middle finger to the public on slight provocation and celebrates raucously in an arrogant display of pride. The cricketing fraternity will no doubt, admire & respect him in the future for his cricketing abilities and go-get-it attitude. But Tendulkar…..people don’t respect him; they ‘love’ him. He carries himself so well and, despite astronomic adulations, with such a humble dignity, that one wonders if he is, indeed, the God of cricket…..coz even the mythological Gods have been found wanting when it comes to humility.

          3.   Magic: When Vernon Dursley remarked, ‘There’s no such thing as MAGIC’- perhaps he had never witnessed the on-field display of the Little Master. Kohli may have the flair, the style, the charisma; but Tendulkar has the magic.  When a layman shows a card-trick to his friends, they may show a keen interest as to what he will do. But when a magician shows a card trick on stage, the audiences are more than just interested. They are transfixed, hypnotized and even breathless in jaw-dropping anticipation. Same is the case with Kohli & Tendulkar. When Kohli bats, people will watch jubilantly and expectantly. But when Tendulkar bats, he seems to weave a spell with his wand of a bat…. as the entire country pauses & postpones its mundane chores to witness a magical spectacle that the GREAT man has promised today……..

My date with Tendulkar’s destiny

[Author’s Note: The author of this article is a tireless fan of Tendulkar. Hence, the emotions he went through cannot be precisely manifested through mere words.]

Sachin Tendulkar rewrote history books past Friday, 16^th March, 2012 (hitherto, an historic date) as he slammed his 100^th international century against Bangladesh in Mirpur. The hype & hue notwithstanding, this century felt sweeter than it actually was owing to the fact that it came after an unforeseeably agonizing wait of over a year.

I, on my part, had been indefatigably watching all the matches (especially when he was on crease) as I have been doing ever since I started watching cricket (1996 World Cup) in order to not to miss the historic moment. However, Tendulkar’s willow had been teasing me and millions of his devotees for so many months before surprisingly falling prey to our collective prayers in Mirpur. (PS- I even woke up at 5 am during the Australia tour. He had fallen for 80 on that occasion L L).

This Friday, however, I was on the brink of missing out on this much-awaited moment since I had an appointment with a doctor. It so happened that I had left my house at 1 pm, half-an-hour before the match was due to begin. The chamber of the said doctor was on the other side of my city and I was expecting to return home by around 5 pm. I was aloof & uninformed about the condition of the match as I waited impatiently in the doc’s chamber for my turn to arrive. Of course, I had no inkling of the fact that India was put to bat and that Tendulkar had begun his show.

Surprisingly, before long, my turn arrived (a few minutes earlier than I had anticipated) and the diagnosis procedure got over in no time. Then my Mama (uncle) who was escorting me took me to the adjacent ‘Haldiram’ (an eatery) to help me fill my belly. As I munched on my favorite Masala Dosa, I thrillingly saw Sachin & Kohli batting together with the scorecard just getting past 100. It became evident to me that Sachin must be close to his half-century and this may be the day the country has been waiting for. I had a premonition that today, he would get past the jinx and strike that ton.

Egged with a sudden sense of urgency, I gobbled up my Dosa and then hurried out to return home (which would take another 30-40 minutes or so). I just wished to reach home before he struck his ton. Though my Mama insisted that I go with him to his house (which was not as distant as mine), I politely refused since I wanted to attack my personal TV remote. A metro (underground rail) and an auto journey later I reached home and immediately tuned into channel number 33 (reserved for cricket). My heart leapt with joy as I saw the same pair (whom I had left at Haldiram) still on crease. Sachin was on 87 and Kohli slightly behind. Though Kohli departed soon much to my thrill (I didn’t want the limelight to be shared my someone else), Sachin was tentative as he inched from 90 to 100. He crawled, snailed and moved only gradually-but in the end, he was home. That nudge on the leg side made the stadium erupt, the commentators were raving, I was over the moon. The mundane world didn’t exist anymore for me……That moment had frozen itself to eliminate every trivial worries of life….. …The curse of 99 had been overpowered….. Sachin had finally drunk the elixir from the goblet.

PS- This century was carved out only out of sheer grit and that 4-hour optional practice session. Only Sachin could have struck a ton at a time when he was going through a miserable form. ‘Sach’ a magician!

My bittersweet memories of Rahul Dravid

Today my morning commenced with an unusual amount of emotion & nostalgia. I unfolded ‘The Telegraph’ to find those ubiquitously haunting eyes of Rahul Dravid staring back at me from the main page. The eyes, so piercing and quintessentially focused on a cricket pitch, told a different tale today. There was a tinge of sadness in those eyes which had perhaps never betrayed the man over the past 16 years as he stood firm & resolute on his crease, solid as a Wall.

Dravid was retiring today. The Great Wall of India was finally melting away to let the flood of younger blood stream through. The likes of Virat Kohli, Rohit Sharma, Manoj Tiwari & Cheteshwar Pujara had been snapping at his heels for quite some time now. And the great man has chosen to pass on the mantle to them, little realizing that none of them has feet as large as to fill his shoes completely. The void left by him will never be fulfilled in its entirety. The holy slot of number 3 which was Dravid’s all these years, will now, in all probability, be claimed by Kohli, and rightly so. But Kohli may only plug the hole to an extent but never will he succeed in creating that aura of a halo which enveloped Dravid throughout his career.

 

I looked back at the headlines screaming allowed the mournful news that every cricket lover knew beforehand. Even as I allowed time its prerogative to make the feeling sink in, a crowd of memories rushed over me, trampling my thoughts with their emotion-laden footsteps. I remember vividly how I used to envy Dravid a number of times when his heroics eclipsed the failings of Tendulkar (my personal favourite). I remember hazily how I used to pray, over the years, for Tendulkar to score a century and for Dravid to fall short. I remember vaguely still, how I feared that Dravid may eventually surpass Tendulkar’s milestones and leave behind an even greater legacy than the Master when he hangs his boots. Fortunately (or unfortunately), Tendulkar’s milestones are secure and under no immediate threat by other living greats. But I wonder if Dravid has, indeed, left behind a greater legacy, a larger imprint on the sands of time! I remember, quite clearly this time, that after Tendulkar’s cheap dismissals, how I used to frenetically pray for Dravid to see us through the victory line. And Dravid, almost always, fell prey to my bait of prayers! Perhaps, there was a bit of selfishness on my part but the unassumingly great man willfully gifted me some sugar-sweet memories against all my bitterness.

I looked back at the newspaper, and on to his smiling face (albeit tinged with sorrow & mellowed with age). His hairline had receded and I could make out quite a few strands of grey hair. This was in complete contrast to his chocolaty-boy looks of his exuberant youthful days. I turned the newspaper over. There, on the back page, they had published a much more impressive picture of his younger self. He was, indeed, charming, attractive, sexy and gentlemanly. I have always admired his intelligent-looking handsome features (even though I am not a gal). I am sure, I would have definitely been head over heels in love with him, had I been a member of the opposite sex. But does that matter? I can still love him despite all my boyishness.

Turning the paper back to the frontpage, his ageing face seemed to remind me of the eternal law of Nature. He looked wiser, calmer but mellowed & slightly worn out. Life had come a full circle. After a glorious journey, he had finally walked  into the sunset……the dark evening had come over onto the Indian cricket….And as he shut the door quietly withdrawing into his room, the sky above will feel all the more darker… without its brightest star……

Sachin Tendulkar and the Curse of the 99

Sachin Tendulkar, the undisputed deity of cricket and the 'ladlaa beta' of India is presently chasing his 100th international century. As I write this, the Master has just walked off after falling on 73 at the ongoing Boxing day test at the famous Melbourne Cricket Ground, 27 runs shy of the coveted crown that, so far, been worn by none. Tendulkar (often called Ton-dulkar) has been stranded on 99 International centuries since his glorious century against South Africa in March at the World Cup. Since then, he has had close to 17 attempts to get to the tally of hundred 100s but has been thwarted by what we can, now, call the 'curse of the 99'.

 It's not that he has been nursing a bad form or is not piling up runs for his team. He has been in great nick (as Always) and, at times, in ominous form and has come at a sniffing distance in no less than 4 occasions including a couple of 90s to his credit. But he has been denied what is rightfully his by this curse that refuses to abandon him and has loyally stuck to him like an ever-creeping shadow. From India to England to India again and now to Australia, this curse has hounded him and the millions of his devotees in a horrifying display of its dark prowess. His prolonged stay on '99' is ironic since Sachin had chosen to flash '99' as his jersey number for a long time during his olden, golden days. His history seems to have resurrected in the form of a surreal curse to torment his present.....

Sachin, himself, is pursuing his relentless chase for this much-awaited century with a child-like obsession. In some ways, Tendulkar is no less than an enthusiastic child! A child, no matter how much he is scolded or punished, continues his yearnings for fanciful objects like the unreachable moon. Tendulkar, too, despite being thwarted, continues his pursuit to reach an ethereal space where no man, living or dead, has walked before. Sachin, with his baggage of 99 tons, has already conquered a summit that no cricketer has scaled or shall ever scale (though, of course, cricket is proverbially 'a game of glorious uncertainties). But with this entire world so fascinated with 'numbers', this magician must wield his willow to conjure the 'number 100' to register his permanent stamp of dominance in the history books. 

Today, yet again, he came agonizingly close to this magic figure before getting bowled out by Peter Siddle on 73 in front of a colossal crowd of 50,000 spectators watching him with awe & reverence as he crafted a flawless, sublime innings that totally deserved the standing ovation which he spontaneously got. In fact, his dismissal at the very peak of his innings can be seen as the depiction of imperfectness in a most perfect manner. (To read more about the 'perfect' imperfectness, read: http://chocolateboy-ritesh.blogspot.com/2011/12/sachin-tendulkar-perfectness-of-being.html).

 And even though, he failed to cross the final  hurdle, the breathless pace of the inning seemed to bewitch the MCG viewers and freeze the cascading time. Like a super computer, he seemed to have fed himself with important data as he headed onto the pitch where he exhibited impeccable timing, technique and innovation to negotiate the outswingers and upper-cut the bouncers.  

But the curse, eventually, had the last smile as it devoured the God at a time when he was looking mightily invincible. The curse can also be compared to a desert's mirage which lures the thirsty traveler to journey through sand & sun looking for that elixir of life only to disappoint him in the end. Tendulkar, too, does all the hard work and builds his way towards the waiting milestone only to be denied at the last moment. The Master has fallen a prey yet again to the bait thrown by this 'curse of the 99' in a most bizarre, unreal fashion. 

 But the final battle shall certainly be won by Tendulkar, the voyage will be journeyed one day, the 100th hundred shall surely be scored....because this 'elixir' lies concealed in a holy grail from which only the God is allowed to drink.......

Boxing Day Test: Who will bell the kangaroo?

With Christmas already upon us, it's just a few hours left for the anticipated Boxing Day test to begin. As i write this, the prospect of a riveting contest between India and arch rivals Australia seems too enticing to let go even though I'm thoroughly aware that I will need to get up at 5 am if I wish not to miss any part of this promising contest. And as far as I am concerned, these are pretty audacious thoughts since I'm a late sleeper and the idea of saying goodbye to the cozy, fluffy blankets (it's freezing here in Kolkata) at such an early time is not giving me great comfort. Even the local crows are postponing their morning cacophony by an hour or so to avoid risking tonsillitis in the frigid weather.

Now, as an avid cricket lover, it is my duty to deeply contemplate about the chances of our Indian team conquering the Aussies in their own country. Some so-called experts are suggesting that Indians face a weakened Aussie line-up this time and, therefore, have a great chance of beating them. But underestimating the once-invincible kangaroos in their own den is, I think, a grave mistake. After all, as I hit the pillows every night and close my eyes to stroll into my little, imaginary world, I wonder who, after all, will bell the kangaroo?
Yes, we have a strong bludgeoning marauder in Virender Sehwag and a gritty,silent worker in Gambhir! Yes, we do boast of one of the strongest middle order backbones of world cricket in Rahul 'Wall' Dravid, 'Sachin 'God' Tendulkar and VVS 'Special' Laxman. But then the opposition, too, has its potent weapon in the young James Pattinson and the electric Pat Cummins (though Cummins is nursing an injury and is unlikely to appear in the picture before the 4th test). Our experienced batsmen (not to forget the young guns like Virat Kohli and Rohit Sharma) led by a World Cup-winning captain (Dhoni can make runs as well) can be trusted to put on some runs, nevertheless.

But the chief problem lies in our bowling department. Though we have 2 reliable spinners in Pragyan Ojha and the maverick magician Ravichandran Ashwin (fresh from a fantastic debut test series against the Windies) but our pace battery is almost completely dependent on Zaheer Khan. Ishant Sharma is inconsistent while Umesh Yadav is young and hasn't done anything spectacular. Zaheer, too, is unlikely to be at his peak fitness or rhythm. In such a scenario, it may get difficult to restrict the Kangaroo batsmen to a low total. It's also a pity that the billion-plus populated India has failed to come out with even one first class fast bowler who can be consistent. Irfan Pathan showed some class earlier in his career but then plummeted into the bottomless depths of gloom. Ditto for Munaf Patel..

You may be thinking that I'm underestimating the powers of our indigenous bowlers. As an anxious Indian cricket fan, it is my birth right to take a pessimistic path so that I can fully appreciate & relish the joys later on if India does come out triumphant. And fans like me, critics like Chappels and soothsayers like Bejan Daruwala (ya, that's a nice name) will keep on presenting their individual cases. Only the breaking dawn shall truly disclose who'll actually do the belling of the kangaroo.......
~Ritesh. 

Sachin Tendulkar: The perfectness of being an imperfect

 ‘Perfection’ is something which stares at you like a star from the zenith far above. You crave to reach out to it which would, undoubtedly, take you to the top of the heavens from where you can survey your earthly subjects looking up at you in awe. Sachin Tendulkar stands on that pantheon like a deity who evokes awe amongst all his worshippers. Even the ground on which he walks is considered sacred by millions of his devotees.

Despite standing on the top, he hasn’t yet reached out to that hallowed ‘perfection’. Currently, he is being haunted by the ghost of ’99 centuries’ which has burdened his mind and infected the sanctity of the pure soul. Looking for that elusive 100^th ton, a feat never accomplished before by a man so far, every time he walks out to the pitch, his devotees gather all around him akin to a throng of hypnotized onlookers gazing at a magician who has promised them his most remarkable trick ever. They hold their breath waiting for that inevitable moment when the conjurer conjures that rabbit out of the thin air; something which will eventually happen no matter the amount of time it takes. The inevitability of Tendulkar’s 100^th century is never questioned by his devoted admirers. It will definitely come, may be in a few weeks or months, or may be in years, but they are prepared to hold their breath till that time. 

Tendulkar, himself, has been so accustomed to the center stage that attaching stage-fright with him seems tasteless. He has spent a greater part of his 38 years on the field than off it. The dust-brown batting pitch enveloped by the green grass is far more homely to him than his Mumbai’s mansion. Yet the God himself seems to be having the jitters every time he approaches that coveted milestone. That 100^th century is like a seductive, enchanting maiden who battles her eyelashes inviting him to her warm embrace. Lured and tempted, he rushes forward to get forlorn amongst the fragrance of her radiant tresses but the moment he approaches her, she disappears leaving him unquenched in his state of confounded trance.

The fact, that he is in the need to exorcise the ghost of 99, robs from him the crown of perfection. Yes, he is not perfect! Yes, he is not error-free! It is his state of anxious desperation to reach to his quest that lends him the tag of imperfection. But it is this imperfection that makes his batting so intriguing, so charismatic and so unpredictable. You never know when his blade will caress the ball to the fences! You never know when his hand shall slice that perfect drive! And you never know when this magician will churn out that 100^th ton, conjure that expectantly awaited rabbit that has paused our lives since the World Cup march!

The ‘God of cricket’ is flawed; he has his imperfections but it is his imperfections that make him so irresistible. He is imperfect but he is so in a very perfect manner. Of course, pretty soon, the wizard will definitely wield his wand again and produce that number 100. But it is the unpredictability of that epic moment where all the magic lies……….

(By Ritesh Agarwal, a tireless Tendulkar fan)

sachin tendulkar

He bats like a man possessed by a demon, he strikes like a snake spewing its venom,
Cricket sans Sachin is like a blood sans serum..........