Rinpoche Tendlya

This isn't about the 200. I swear. But there could not have been a better time to write this.

It is so easy to shower Sachin Tendulkar with superlatives, especially now. You pinch Gavaskar in his sleep and I'm sure he'll scream out "Yet another 100 for the little master." For most of India, it's second nature to sing praises about the great man (there...I stand guilty as charged!!!) But ever wondered what he thinks of us? The day after Wankhede booed him in 2006, he was probably humming the Dev D song in his shower.

Bol Bol why did you ditch me,
Zindagi bhi lele yaara kill me,
Bol Bol why did you ditch me whore,
Tauba Tera Jalwa, Tauba tera pyar,
Tera Emosanal Attyachaar!

And in public, he'd have done a more diplomatic Laslo Bane.

But I can't do this all on my own
No I know
I'm no superman

Starting off as a kid, all curly hair, squeaky voice and breathless excitement, he was already the chosen one. 16 year olds drive cars and pull pranks. Our man drove Wasim and pulled Waqar. He drew encomiums from stiff British upper lips and wowed another country not known for it's affinity to Indians - sportsmen or immigrants. An admiration that endures 2 decades later. An economy that was beginning to resemble the refreshing liberty of his batting and the growing reach of satellite television created an unprecedented aura which partnered him on his pursuit of excellence, sadly his teammates didn't. The boy became a man. Even as he kept finding himself in one rubbish side after another, none more so than the ones he captained, he never ceased to conquer. The ridiculous ease with which he consigned the potential Warne-Tendulkar rivalry to the no-contest bin pretty much anointed him the greatest batsman of his generation. At 25. The supposed climax and it was just the intermission.

Match-fixing shook the faith of an entire nation. The fact that cricket wooed us back was due in no small measure to one man being 100% clean. My friend Yd told me Jadeja's involvement shocked him. I cannot digest Azhar's central participation even today. Sachin was spoken of in hushed whispers. "What if..." we asked. Fortunately, that question never needed to be answered. Post Hansiegate, as India dusted off the cobwebs, court-martialed the old guard and wore a new confidence, he was suddenly the senior statesman. Saurav Ganguly taught India to look Australia in the eye and kick them in the crotch. It was time for the great-movie-gone-bad-post-interval to break out into song & dance. But hey, Sachin wasn't the leading man anymore. After the heady form of the 2003 WC, the pecking order changed somewhat, both at home and internationally. Kallis dropped anchor, Dravid struck a purple patch, Lara found second wind & Ponting, a higher gear. As Chanders constructed monuments, Inzy composed masterpieces & Laxman conjured miracles, our man confronted mediocrity. The heavy bat assumed a burden, every run resembled a labour of Hercules. The champion who gave Warne nightmares, now put us to sleep as he faced the likes of Ray Price, Ashley Giles & Gareth Breese. The fan base began to switch allegiance to a younger man from Najafgarh, who reminded us of the Sachin of the 90s. His weary body made him stay away from a lot of the action. And sometimes, we didn't even notice he wasn't there. We didn't miss him. If we thought things could not get worse than the booing at Wankhede, there was the 2007 WC.

And then the second coming. As the T20 generation called him grandfather, he seemed more and more like the 16 year old who first caught our eyes. And showed yet another generation just who the big daddy was. Like the scything sound effect accompanying Rajnikanth's beedi twirling, the flourish of youth returned. And married the zen-like mastery of the sage. Closing down on 2 decades in the game, he turned the clock back. His craft approaching perfection, the numbers got bigger. 163. 175. 200 not out.

When we think of Sachin, we think big. 30000 international runs. Close to a century of centuries. We tolerate the highest corruption levels, the most dangerous traffic, the worst natural calamities, the most ruthless terrorists, but don't find it in ourselves to forgive his odd failure. And when the magnitude is expectation is so high, we miss out his smaller contributions. We crib when he fails in a big chase. We choose not to see the 41 off 25 in an India-Pakistan cup final in Dhaka which inspired Dada and Robin Singh to propel us to what was then a world record second innings winning score. We complain when he doesn't deliver in a big final. We stay blind to the high-adrenaline 35 in Nairobi, when he gave McGrath the finger and all, which gave his side the momentum and the confidence to storm to the final of that ICC knockout in the first place. We ask where he was when India pulled off 2 sensational come-from-behind victories over the Aussies, at Kolkata & Adelaide. We forget his crucial 3 wicket hauls in both those matches which hastened 2nd innings Australian collapses engineered by Harbhajan and Agarkar. How many men on the planet can claim to have hit Warne for six against the turn and clean bowled him with a vicious googly!!! We remember his magnificient 175 in a losing cause last year, but not the scorching catch he took in the outfield in the same game. If India had won that match, that catch that made the difference between a boundary and a wicket would have become stuff of legend. And one game before the ODI double century, his sliding stop in the outfield saved 2, and India won by a single run. Away from the limelight, in a Ranji trophy semi-final against Tamil Nadu, he played a gem that would have been his signature knock if it had been a Test match. In front of a handful of spectators, who wouldn't have turned up if not for him, and rabbits for company, he single handedly gave Bombay the decisive first innings lead. The master of the big stage is as much the God of small things.

No one in their right mind would call Tendulkar unorthodox. His awesome talent stretched the realms of orthodoxy to encompass audacious levels of creativity that lesser men could never comprehend to be free from risk. That is precisely why the upper cut over third man is no longer deemed an unorthodox stroke, nor is the straight sweep behind the keeper with a vertical bat, both patented by his 3 pound MRF. Not only did he open up those blind spots for run-making opportunities, he made them percentage shots.

The man is not without his flaws. There was the silly request for a tax waiver on the Ferrari. Also the bat auction to send Shwaas to the Oscars, when he could have just reached into his pockets. But as Rohit Brijnath wrote, if that is all we can find in 2 decades, then he's doing alright. These things serve to remind us that he is but human, like you and me. Which only adds to his achievements.

The lows of 2007 threatened to consume him. But providence has returned him to us. Old and improved. As we move towards the 2011 WC, after which he will almost certainly bid adieu, let us not ask him to win the championship for us. Let's just be grateful to him for being the force behind the belief that we can. At 5 feet 3 inches, Padma Vibhushan Sachin Tendulkar stands at his tallest. Like I said, it is so easy to shower Sachin Tendulkar with superlatives. All the more now.

Rinpoche