Revisiting Chennai

The teams: India XI, Australia XI & Pakistan XI.

The moments: Two outstanding centuries; Two heart wrenching losses.

The man: Sachin Tendulkar.

Exactly 10 years ago, In the thick of our youth, a bunch of us college mates were out to watch India take on Pakistan. It was the last day of a test match, played under a grueling Chennai sun. Our mission? To make the most of the day, to cheer India to a win and to see the man bat - Sachin Tendulkar himself. Ten years into international cricket back then, he was the most sought after batsman for Indians and the most sought after wicket for all non-Indian cricketing nations world over.

And that day, boy, did he bat! Nursing an injury, crouching low between overs to rest his aching back, the man stood there amidst that crumbling fortress, tall and showing signs of immortality that many only dream of. He was fighting off persistent attacks and probing advances made by none other than the likes of one Mr. Wasim Akram, a certain Waqar Younis and a wily Saqlain Mushtaq. With just enough company from the other end of the wicket, the God of Cricket almost scripted an impossible victory.

We were rejoicing of course. A sullen slow morning session was followed by a boisterous second session. With Sachin making merry in the middle, we were dancing away to glory. "Gumthalakala kala kala kala - hooh haaah" would take turns with "Panamarathula vavvala, Sachinukke savaala". The former being a meaningless cacophony and the latter to say "Who are you challenging? Sachin?!!".

Then came the death knell. Within striking distance, with victory almost upon us, Sachin fell. The stadium, full of several thousand fans, was now dumb struck. Silence could be heard from a mile away. One of us mimicked the death knell being sounded. We didn’t want to look at each other. We didn’t have the heart. And the procession started and finished without much ado. India had lost the game.

Today, Hyderabad pulled a Chennai. Up against a behemoth total set by the Aussies, all of us had written off any chances of an Indian win. One little man, yet again, had different Ideas. Exactly 10 years later, 20 years into international cricket, Sachin was there, yet again. He scored a massive century , displayed the passion of a 16 year old debutant, showed the mastery of a 36 year old, went past a world record 17000 runs, put India back into the game and all of that, in the span of one evening. This innings had a surrealistic feeling about it, a dream being played live and yet re-awakened in me a sense of awe for this great man. The colossal figure that he is! And true enough, just like how it was 10 years ago, with just 13 runs to go after Sachin fell, India lost its way.

A friend of mine messaged to check on the result. I told him we lost. I also told him that Sachin scored 175 off 141. He said "But we lost, what difference does it make". You cant blame my friend after all, for such has been the reaction to Sachin from some of the fronts all along. I said "The loss doesn’t matter. To watch this Sachin innings in itself was a boon".

I feel sorry. Not for the loss(es), not for the moment(s), but for the man.