Tendlya, Where Are You?

Sachin Tendulkar, where are you? I am not talking about the person who is scratching his way to 30s and 40s in 100-odd balls and then gets out in a rather tame manner, I am talking about that person who used to bully his way against any bowler in the world in any sort of condition.

From the time I saw Sachin take to Abdul Qadir in Pakistan, I've been a fan of the Little Master. The way he danced down the track to the wily Pakistani was a treat to watch. Here was a kid who was being talked about a genuis and a would-be master and who was going ahead and proving everyone right. Slowly, but surely, he was becoming a one-man batting army of the Indian team. When we had "seniors" struggling in the Australian pitches, we had this puny-looking giant take on the likes of Craig McDermott, Bruce Ried, Mike Whitney, not to say anything about a blond debutant called Shane Warne, and succeed. In what was then the bounciest and paciest track in Perth, we had this fellow flay the bowling attack. Later on, in the World Cup, he showed how it is going to be one stage where he would be the lead actor always.

As this became routine, my viewing pattern also changed. I was afflicted with this psychological problem where I wanted to see Tendulkar bat, but was too afraid to watch when he finally came to bat because of the fear of him getting out and the Indian innings folding up. This feeling was further enhanced when he first opened the innings for India in a one-dayer. I was taking a bath when India came out to bat and my brother almost broke down the door, yelling that Sachin was opening as Sidhu had a stiff neck (or something similar). I wiped off whatever was left in my body - dirt, soap, water, everything - and rushed in front of the TV. There was going to be only about an hour for me to watch before we had to go to school, me and my brother. What followed that day is a legend when he flayed the New Zealand bowling led by Danny Morrison, who had in the previous match claimed a hat-trick and had boasted that he had mastered reverse swing.

This pattern continued throughout the 90s, reaching its peak during the series against Australia in India and the subsequent one-day series in Sharjah, where he overcame not just Aussie bowling but also the elements in one match. He left Shane Warne with nightmares (and probably kept him straight) for a few months. Then, in 1999, Pakistan came to India, and Sachin failed to win India a match. The match was all but won when he got out, and Indians showed their true "class" and managed to lose from a winning position. Though Sachin couldn't have hardly faulted for the defeat, that was probably the first time there were questions raised about his ability to win matches for India. Sharjah 1998 was still rather fresh in the memory, and all such notions were swept away, but the damage had been done. That was also the period which led to Sachin taking a rest from the game owing to persistent back problems.

From the time he came back, he has not been the same. Something wasn't right either with the physical body or with the mental portion, but he had taken a decision to curb some of the attacking shots which had made Tendulkar who he was. He deliberately stopped playing the hook and lofted drive and even cut down on the pull. This resulted in the rather comical dismissal of getting hit on the head and being adjudged LBW. Now, I am not too sure about that particular ball from McGrath hitting the stumps, but I am also a very strong believer in people padding up or generally not offering shots to balls headed anywhere close to stumps to be given out. He also could be easily tied up by anyone who could bowl into the rough outside the leg stump. How else do you explain someone of Tendulkar's caliber being tied by a bowler like Ashley Giles?

Tendulkar felt, or so I think, that he needed to be the father figure in the team because of his seniority and that he should not be giving away his wicket cheaply. The Sachin of 90s never felt he would get out, it was the supreme confidence of the man which resulted in so many match-winning innings. In the new millenium, he was looking extremely jaded. From a feared batsman, he was soon becoming merely a respected one. From a destroyer, he was trying to become an accumulator. He was trying to do what Rahul Dravid was already doing in such a successful manner.

It was also during this time that slowly but surely, Indian batting started revolving around Rahul Dravid. Dravid's success and failure were deciding the team's fortune more than anyone else. The normally reticent Tendulkar seemed to have withdrawn to that fact. He was no longer wishing to take centerstage in bashing up bowlers. He did briefly take his original avataar during the World Cup of 2003, but that was only a temporary phase before he assumed his grafter role again. He even had the ignominy of being left on 194 just because he was batting too slowly against the team's wishes. Now, when did Sachin bat slowly while approaching a century in the 1990s? He was known to reach the landmarks with a flurry of boundaries. Now, he was eating up over after maiden over to crawl his way there.

For quite some time now, the longevity of Sachin has been an excuse brandished by many in supporting the little master, including Sachin himself. I would like to point out that Brian Lara is only about 2-3 years younger than him in the international arena. Inzamam too is around that age in international cricket. Ricky Ponting seems to be achieving much more in a shorter duration. As these players seem to have gotten better with age, for Sachin the reverse seems to be true. It has been a long time since Sachin took to a bowler who has boasted about his abilities. I have forgotten the last time Sachin took apart a bowling in a test match. There were glimpses of his booming drives during the recently concluded series in South Africa, but that is all there is now, mere glimpses of all those array of shots. Serious questions are being asked to whether he is the greatest batsman of his generation, let alone of all time. Brian Lara still strikes terror, Ricky Ponting tears any attack apart, what will Sachin do? Will we ever get to see the Little Master making mincemeat of the bowlers? Will we get to see Sachin bring down some big egos and close some loud mouths? I would love to see it once again. I want to see Tendlya again.

Licensed, At Last

It was in September that I cleared the Learner's License test in a rather dubious manner. Having done it once, the temptation was rather high to obtain my Driving License also through such means. Now don't get me wrong, I am a perfectly law-abiding citizen. But I am also a rather weak human being, easily tempted by the short cuts in life, and in India, there isn't a dearth of them.

The temptation really started when our neighbours said they were going to obtain licenses through a friend of theirs in Chattisgarh (or MP or thereabouts). Usually reticent in such matters, I had no hesitation in asking them whether they could ask their friend to do a similar favor for me too. They didn't seem to mind it at that time and I was pretty relaxed from that moment, wondering when I would have to give them all my stuff. It didn't even occur to me that something like a mix-up of spelling or photos or some other crazy thing might happen. I also didn't feel anything about spending Rs. 1200 over and above the fees that I had spent in the driving school which is supposedly inclusive of the Driving License fee/bribe.

Just as I was getting totally relaxed about the whole thing, there came a hitch to the entire plan. I suddenly found my neighbors not too keen on sending my stuff over, saying it would be an obligation for them. I got the drift, but once such a temptation enters your mind, it is rather tough to get it out. So, there were more inquiries on those lines of obtaining a license through easier means. Ranji was then able to locate a cousin of hers who was willing to do it.

This time, though, the dampener was of a totally different nature. He said that since we had gotten our Learner's License from Bangalore, we will have to either get a No Objection Certificate from here and pay Rs. 1000 or straightaway pay Rs. 5000. Now, paying Rs. 1200 is one thing, paying Rs. 5000 is a totally different matter. I began to envy those characters in Robert Ludlum novels who knows all those people involved in creating fake stuff and who always have enough money to spare for such things.

Since Ludlum isn't the author of my life, I had to face reality. I decided that before I shell out Rs. 5000, let me at least give it a try. Having had a rather easy time during the Learner's, I had reasonable confidence in the RTO clearing me. So, I presented myself at the Indira Nagar RTO office at around 10 a.m. I went directly to Dhanush office from where I had learnt driving, and after filling numerous forms, was sheperded to a place where there were similar anxious-looking faces.

Lady aspirants were given the first chance to drive. That gave some time for my jangling nerves to settle. From early on, any kind of test sets my nerves jangling. That also results in me being more alert than usual and in the ultimate success of mine, but I still don't like the feeling of tenseness that I have to undergo. As soon as the womenfolk got out, I powered my way in. The inspector was entering the zone of restlessness which wasn't a good sign as far as I was concerned. Having secured the driver's seat first, I didn't exactly crown myself with glory while starting the vehicle. It switched itself off before I could start it again and start moving. I drove well before he asked me to stop and take a reverse. While taking reverse, I decided myself as to when to stop the car which didn't please the inspector one bit, and he might have very well failed me then and there, but I could see the instructor's and inspector's eyes meet and a secret message passed between them, something in the lines of "Pass this guy or no bribes for you." Well, whatever it was, that worked, because the inspector passed me.

So, I have a license at last. I will be getting the document in hand only on Monday, but the fact that I can now fearlessly take the vehicle out is a good feeling. Keep reading to hear about my latest driving adventures.

New Year's Fiasco

When I decided to have, as usual, drinks on New Year's Eve, I never realized what I might be getting into. In 2005, there were just 3 of us in our apartment to share a drink with. Since we (the initial 3) thought New Year should be heralding the good times ahead, we thought of including a few more into our circle of boozers. So, much in advance, we went in search of people who might have an inclination towards fluids with alcohol present in them.

Having identified 2 more interested parties, we decided to stick to vodka and whisky. We got Antiquity Blue and Smirnoff with soda and Fanta as an accompaniment. I stuck to whisky and room temperature water whereas the others had soda and Fanta along with their drinks. From the beginning, I didn't like the pace of drinking. I am someone who prefers to linger over his drinks, but there was no lingering this time. Also, one new comer into the group was rather boring, going on and on about God knows what. It didn't help that his Bengali English was extremely pathetic. Meanwhile, another guy went missing for a considerable length of time. I was to know later that he went and puked all over my bathroom.

Anyway, after having had our share of drinks, we went upstairs for dinner where the other families had assembled. It was then that the fun started. Some of the folks there didn't like the fact that we were drunk. We didn't help our cause by acting rather drunk. Meanwhile, the horrible-speaking Bengali came and told his wife that he didn't feel well at all and was going down. This was taken in the right sense by the older folks who thought that he was showing respect to them by not coming in. Then, to really rub things in, I and Ranji swept off all the possible prizes in "Housie." We then went back after midnight with me totally unaware of the discomfort I and our actions had caused, whereas most of the rest sulked back home.

On Jan 1st, as Ranji stepped into the bathroom, she saw that there were additional designs in the tiles and realized that our drinking partner was the cause of it. He had tried his level best, but his drinking stupor hadn't helped one bit. Ranji poured an almost full bottle of Lizol and I got down to the task of cleaning the mess. My offer to clean it up saved me from getting the severest possible censure from Ranji. That, though, didn't stop her from deciding that no more parties were going to be hosted at our place.

The New Year hasn't started the best possible manner, but I hope it can only get better from now on. Wishing al the (limited) readers of my blog a fantastic New Year.