Jhakas | Sanjay Jha
There was something surreal, serene and substantial about Sourav Ganguly and Sachin Tendulkar at Chittagong in the Ist Test between Bangladesh and India. It had nothing to do with the fact that they are both erstwhile captains. That until Sanath Jayasuria and Uthpal Tharanga devastated the Englishmen, they had held the world record of highest opening partnership in ODI cricket. That they had been silently evicted from their prima donna positions in the limited version of the game. That they are not getting younger anymore. That over a tumultuous decade of Indian cricket, they have emerged battle-scarred but finally victorious on several occasions, swimming against vicious tides and tempestuous waters. Against all odds. Against bitter cynics, political camps, a fickle public, and doubting Cassandras . That they once again, under another acid test and watchful vulture eyes, scripted a manly comeback, hitting centuries in tandem was perhaps poetic justice. But what must have really emboldened them is the quiet but emphatic message sent to all the deadly conspirators of Indian cricket -----Shut Up !
Over the last few weeks, the sordid dirty linen that Greg Chappell left behind after pocketing his fat pay cheque, kept getting repeatedly displayed in prime space in our daily lives in India. Gullible selectors embellished by a singular lack of horse sense and cricketing intelligence, spoke in voluminous terms of the captaincy aspirations of Sachin Tendulkar and Sourav Ganguly. Almost making it appear as if the duo rejoiced in their farewell appearance in the World Cup , and revelled in Rahul Dravid’s discomfiture. Now that was sad stuff, and makes me wonder, if the so-called “ sting operation” was actually a deliberate pre-planned attempt to create a malevolent campaign against Sachin and Sourav, with the victims being the perpetrators themselves. Frankly, in Indian cricket, there are so many spokes within spokes and wheels within wheels, nothing, absolutely nothing can be ruled out. Continue reading below
Be as it may, it was good to see Rahul, Sachin and Sourav amongst the runs, and playing together. They remain a classic trio, blessed with resplendent flair, amazing talent, and a fiery attitude. They are proven performers. A perennial pride of an obsessed nation. Ever since Chappell played his divide and rule card, their otherwise strong relationship (forget the usual misunderstandings) floundered into deep distrust, silent resistance, one-upmanship and even shades of emerging animosity. The restless sharks of Indian cricket roaming relentlessly for an easy prey then moved in to exploit their human vulnerabilities. The rest, as they say, is history.
But as true professionals, what they have never lost is that mutual respect for each other, undiluted admiration for their hard work and grit, and recognition of their contribution to Indian cricket. Of their team-play. Of triumphing together over difficult times. Of savouring warm moments in the sun. Of spending their 20s in each other’s arms more than their better-halves.
As India takes a few days off before the second Test, away from prying eyes, hordes of insatiable media, away from BCCI power-brokers, and the invasive public, it maybe a good idea if Sachin, Sourav and Rahul take a small break. Just a chat over chai. And talk. And share their memories as they together reach the beginning stages of the end of their brilliant careers. Of a World Cup they will never win. Of post-retirement options. Of reviving domestic cricket. Of who was better in Don, Amitabh Bachchan or Shah Rukh Khan. Of Roger Federer halting the clay-born Raf Nadal. Of global warming. Of their families that they see less than they see themselves. Of friends. Of anything under the moon. Of a day in London, in 1996, eleven years ago, when Sourav and Rahul debuted together, and how two legends of Indian cricket were born. And the tiny master who was already a supercilious commander in their midst. They can talk about that till the midnight hour, even as destiny will bring them in Lord’s again in just a few weeks from now.
Sometimes it is in these small moments that we find the nuances of life. It’s real meaning. And discover the worthlessness of small things. Of the irrelevance of petty grudges. And the insignificance of deep-rooted resentments. And the power to forgive. To empathise. And move on.
All over a cup of chai.
Go take a sip, Lords of the Ring!
