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April 24,2014

I dedicate this story to all die heart Sachin fans. I dedicate this write-up as a

birthday wish to Sachin Tendulkar in 2014. I hope he reads this and all his fans

read it.

Please read and then pass it on to others. He turns 41 this year, so at-least forward

it to 41 Sachin Fans.

-Sachin Ramesh Tendulkar is forever, amen.

Sachin Receiving Bharat Ratna

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The Little Master

Spoken words-

“ Sachin Tendulkar .becomes the first man in the history of cricket, to reach 200

runs in ODI.. and Thank God! Its sachin”

“can you believe it, Sachin Tendulkar hits a six and it falls in the Sachin Tendulkar

stand”- Rameez Raja

“It’s gone miles in the air! It’s a hokey-pokey!” – (Geoffrey Boycott, India tour of

England)

“ He has decided , he’s going for the win, ..what a player! ..What a wonderful-

wonderful player!”- Tony Greg ( sharjah..)

“He is ‘the master’, what master can do, nobody else can do”- Ajay Jadeja (IPL)

“When he hits that straight drive, Boss! I know he is in splendid touch”- Navjot

Siddhu

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“I cannot believe it, he was playing so well, he was there on the field moments ago

and now he’s gone and we will not see him out there again” –Sunil Gavaskar, (On

sachin’s last dismissal)

“Sachin is not there, and still crowd is chanting sachin- sachin, they don’t know

anything else to chant!” – Harsha Bhogle ( 1st ODI match, post Sachin retirement)

“He has carried the weight of the nation, I guess we can carry him for sometime on our shoulders”- (virat kohli, world cup victory lap)

“ It’s a massive ask, if there is one man who can get India to home, its him” –Tony

Greg, (cameras rolling to Sachin, world cup 1996)

“Iss mahabharat mein ek hi arjun hai, jo india ko jeet dila sakta hai,

..sachin tendulkar, sachin tendulkar, sachin tendulkar,,”- B.S. Bedi (pre-world cup

2003, news-debate)

“He hit that so hard, it almost took umpire’s head off”- Harsha Bhogle (On

sachin’s straight tennis drive , 152 against Namibia, world cup 2003)

“ Nobody can stop him today. He is invincible.” – Ravi Shashtri (Tendulkar’s

comeback match in world cup after his father’s demise.)

“he hit the pigeon, and he’s walking with it , it’s not your fault Sachin..what a

humble man..” – Harsha Bhogle

“I think that six landed in those houses, it’s at-least 140 yards, it’s out of the park!” – (famous six to Andrew Caddick)

“That drive went like bullet through the covers! It came from right middle of the

bat!”- Ravi Shashtri (Sachin in touch.. )

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“mujhe shayad lagta hai, aur meine suna bhi hai, ki jabb woh upar suraj ki taraf

dekhte hein, toh apne pita ko yaad karte hein”- kapil Dev

( Live in commentary box)

“Please settle down, I think I will get more and more emotional as this goes on, I

want to thank all the people and if I missed someone , I am sorry..”–Sachin

Tendulkar (farewell speech)

“that chant ‘sachin-sachhinn’.. will reverberate in my ears, thank you for all your

love and support- Sachin Tendulkar (last words of speech to fans, shivaji stadium )

Intro to story-

When a die heart Sachin fan tries his best, to meet the man himself.

How will he overcome the odds and will his fan-hood prevail?

I dedicate this article to all Sachin fans. I heartily request all the Sachin

fans to share it with their friends. Thanks.

Wishing a very Happy Birthday to Sachin Tendulkar and hoping he

reads it.

-Amen

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Meeting Sachin Ramesh Tendulkar

If you are a die heart Sachin Tendulkar fan, above words are no less than salvation

for you, as rightly and repeatedly told by so many who sighed at my narrative. This

is my story of meeting with my childhood hero and my idol for cricket. My mostly

derived example on sportsmanship and every act of my life, that ever needed a

positive vibe. I dedicate this article to all those who have dreamt of meeting Sachin

Ramesh Tendulkar, all his die heart fans and all those who have selflessly &

reverently prayed for his success, his godly glory and his long life.

I Dedicate this article to all those who have cried with his defeats, rejoiced with his

victories. I dedicate this story to all those who have been heart-broken for his

dismissals and all those who have celebrated every glorious shot he played, in his

illustrious career. There is no length to sum up, this man of herculean flair and

divine conduct. I would rather try to keep up my story in good old simple words

and hope that all avid readers and followers on Sachin Ramesh Tendulkar, would

effectively absorb pleasure of empathy from this story.

I am an Electrical Engineer by profession and i have learnt that all the most

difficult things and daunting complexities can be solved with three phase concepts

( my lol! Idea).

Hence, i have tried here to mix this curious idea along with my writing skills and

erratic emotional response of a fan.

.

So, i would use RYB i.e. Red Yellow and Blue.

You may consider these three colors as three narrative tracks , running together in

this story. Blue color would represent the real time moments in the story, yellow is

like the old age diary's pages - of memory, of nostalgia, snippets of my memories

connected to the master-blaster.

Red is the passionate fan blood running up to my head and it explains my thoughts

and my internal dialogue in this story.

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Hence, with all this (lol! Idea) crazy science put together! I hope i can attempt to

re-construct my experience which is otherwise- so clear , so vivid and ever-running

free inside my head.

Holy yes! It is going nowhere from my permanent memory blocks.

It’s running like an epic script, like the greatest movie of this century, free from

any impure influence of this materialistic world.

Let’s begin! –

But before that, let’s make a fan prayer and hope that every Indian kid should

aspire to become like Sachin -

"May god bless Sachin Ramesh Tendulkar.

Wishing him a Long -Life full of Glory, Cricket, fun sporting activities, utmost

Respect and Divine karma.

Amen."

Here, i would also like to quote my father's response on my question-

" aisa kya kiya hoga isne pichle janam mein jo itna jyada sammaan aur izzat mili

hai? " ( what has this man done in previous life to be bestowed upon with such

honor and respect" )

My father- " pichle 1000 janamon ke acche karmon ka phal hai, warna kisi ko

insaan ke janam mein bhagwaan ke barabar ka darza diya jaye, aisa kabhi ni ho

sakta, pichle janam ka koi bahut bada sadhu aur tapasvi hoga, dekhne se hi lagta

hai, a great human being, a great-great man!"

(his are the fruits not a result of his karma of previous life but of at least 1000

preceeding it, otherwise it’s not possible that someone in mortal form is being

given the status and love of a living god. he must have been a sadhu-tapasvi in

previous life, he looks like one. he is a great human being, a great-great man! )

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[blue - running story, red - internal dialogue ,Yellow- memories like old diary

pages]

March 24, 2013

I got off at pragati maidaan metro station, waiting for my friend to join along. It

was bright & sunny, perfect for third day's play. I wasn't expecting much, as India

was already winning the home series against Aussies.

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We both met on the pavement outside the station and hurried towards the auto-

stand.

"I have the end club house stand tickets, it’s the best view, we can sit right behind

the side screen", I said.

He was busy managing his books & notes in his carry bag, mentally engaged with

his preparation for next day's exam,

" I got this SG cricket hat, you know, just in case ", said Aadish.

Three days back-

I called him up and broke good news. I had passes for first day of play and was

mostly getting the third day's too. It was simply a fan prospect, to spectate good

test cricket while anticipating a calm and sunny Sunday. I put off our long

conversation with a fig hint of another sub-sequent project. It was much bigger,

much fonder, in the backdrop of this regular cricket viewing. It was about meeting

with that great man.

"Just bring something to get autographed on , it’s not confirmed but there is a

possibility, see ya on sunday", said I,

leaving that beautiful hope floating and alive.

Among so many gates to enter Feroz-shah kotla, I have entered through most &

seen matches from all views. However, our turn to the end club house stand left the

crowd thinner, calmer , much-more civil -

such adjectives follow with the word 'privileged viewing'. It all happened just like

the first day.

Security check in-

"ye kya lae ho sir!" (what did you bring with you sir) , asked the policeman

frisking Aadish.

"books hein sir, exam chal re hein toh wahin se aa raa hun",

( books sir, exams are going on, am coming straight from college ), said Aadish

and entered, without bothering much for policeman's cranky reactions, to his care-

free replies.

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The policeman then frisked me, flipped the pages of green colored stick file i

carried, then for a moment gazed upon my poster of –‘Sachin carrying the world

cup’. & finally let us through. We then finally stepped in the court-yard of club

house stand. It was right under BCCI's commentary box.

Deja- Vu!-

While Standing at the open lawn beneath this two floored concrete structure. Sunil

Gavaskar , Ravi Shashtri and entire official commentary team went past me from

that very spot the other day. Sunil Gavaskar looks like a retired colonel from 22

yards, attired in cricketing honour, professionalism and commanding eternal aura

of his sunny days. He was marching bright and shining like a king, in his full

regalia.

He was attacked by snapshots on his way out, stumbled by signature frenzy fan-

mob. He was followed by a tall man from behind, no less in presence, stood sharp

,upright, masculine, thick-bearded, and dressed in a shiny black suit – Mr. Ravi

Shashtri.

"Aur boss kaise ho", said the giant, navjot singh siddhu, before i cud fade away

from the memory trail of Gavaskar entourage and fell into Siddhu’s.

It happened sequentially, right after the first day's end. I was toeing for an exit

from the left alley with my dad and I came directly across the laughing sardaar of

India. I Couldn't get over his size! 6 feet and counting, wore a smart orange turban,

fresh & red was his face, youthful and enthusiastic. I couldn't get over his physical

presence for the first 5 seconds.

This place was always filled with ‘creme de la crème’ of cricketing world. Before i

could leisure into a further day dream, a voice pinned me into the present day and

asked me to move around the diagonal pathway, following the grey slabs towards

the first floor seating.

Sanguine Aadish was quick to figure out our seating and we moved towards the

staircase, through the hallway on ground floor. A crowd was rushing alongside us,

trying to catch the glimpse of a busy looking Shane Warne. He was pretty

occupied, yet smiling he waved to that crowd. He was on his way towards the

commentary box, located on the second floor .It was right above club house stand.

"waah, achha view hai, idhar baithte hein,ekdum saamne dikhega " ,said Aadish

. ( the view is good, let us sit here so that we are right in position)

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we took the fourth row from front, right next to the concrete staircase.

It is just two rows behind from where i sat on the first day of match. It was another

good cricket viewing with my father. We enjoyed the last session of the day. It was

much calm and sober then.

Everything has its merit. However, third day feels so vibrant and alive , with

anticipating crowd and a freshly brewed ground's energy.

I was in awe on the first day. I entered the stand looking for my father. I would not

fail to recall my first impression of this place-

Un-obstructed view, perfectly leveled for the eye and it’s ambience of decently

poised crowd. I could even track the movement of ball outside the off stump and

made a sporting participation in volunteering for few LBW opinions. I humbly felt

that even an average eye could do well from where i sat. Such was the clarity of

ground’s view from that stand.

However, batsmen are sometimes disturbed by crowd’s movement in the backdrop

of side-screen, so one must maintain good standards on behavior and can

occasionally try to get crazy.

As the day progressed, the sun turned brighter and the session unfolded towards

the game’s result. Somehow, a second wind had caught the mild tempo and a

sober- sunny cricketing arena started evolving –

as an exciting, swift and dynamic game zone.

The Aussie wickets started falling in no time and they were almost done with not

much on the feroz shah score-board.

Previous night, i was in my bed, lying low in defense against the pandemonium of

fond fan dreams. It was my sheer audacity to realize it with every sigh of

incredibility. I could hardly remember what made me get up from my bed and

move outdoors.

I just stepped inside, when cyber cafe was about to be shut. I took the prints of

them but missed the one that was special. It was well-written in Hindi but I

couldn’t get Hindi text printed via MS-word somehow. I had no time to employ

trials and methods, as the café owner was staring at me and his wall clock. I had to

content with the best of my English work.

I took a green colored file and placed them neatly without thinking much about the

receiving ends of it; thrills it gave me to do so!.

Green was requested, as it mostly brings me good luck or at-least a goodwill in

heart. I couldn't think much and i moved out of the café. I gave another look at the

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freshly printed pages, tucked the green file in a fresh poly-bag and started walking

back home.

India dominated the morning session with spin magic of R.jadeja and R. ashwin.

We were not even done with our yum munching and ice-teas, they had collected

nine wickets at an expense of close to just150 runs on board.

Post drinks, the cheering got louder and crowd turned sanguine for India’s batting.

It was mostly because everyone wanted to see India bat and see it get down to two

wickets loss. I dunno much about other grounds; but here in Delhi!, spectator

dynamics are run by complete ‘paisa vasool’ concepts. If it is to anticipate a quick

result on the third day itself, then why not??.

The meal stalls were selling hot .The crowd was munching more and drinking

more caffeine, maybe to absorb the rush of sweet anxiety. In middle of this, I got a

call from my father-

tring-tring! Tring-Tring!

TRING-TRING!!

TRINNGGGG –TRINNNNGGGGG!! [BLOODY] ( It was set to progressive

nokia tone & crowd noise was outstanding!!)

I picked up and answered via my crushed up hands free-

My dad- ‘haan meine baat kar li hai bharadwaj ji se, tu ek baar jaake uncle se mil

liyo’ ( ya! I have talked to Mr. bharadwaj, u should go and meet uncle for once atleast)

He showed me his office the other day. It was in the end club house stand itself.

Mr. pankaj bharadwaj worked in the administration of Feroz Shah Kotla .He was a

very friendly and warm person.

Me- ‘ haan meine office dekha hai, chala jaunga break mein, par mushkil hi hai’ ( I have seen the office, I will go in the lunch break, but it’s difficult..)

Dad- ‘arey tu chala jaa, try karna chahiye’ (you go, one should always try )

Me- ‘haan thik hai’.. ..(ya! Okay.. [I said it in a low and depressive voice though])

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I had a deep sinking feeling brewing inside me. It was like those metaphorically

equating dreams. In which, you jump off the cliff to catch the sun & you fall to

ground like a piece of rock. Here, we were probably talking about the difference

that was much bigger in reality, it was astronomical!

I looked at the green file and then the poster, I said-

“yaar aadish, kya ek baar milke aayein bharadwaj uncle se”

(aadish! Should we go meet bharadwaj uncle)

Aadish- yaar! Match ke beech mein koi ni milaayega, aur abb toh india ki batting

aa jaayegi”

( nobody will help u meet him b/w the match and now it will be time for India’s

batting)

Me (agreeing)- haan! Hai toh thik baat, match ke beech mein poochna achaa ni

lagta, mushkil bhi hai” ( ya! I think what your saying is right, it doesn’t look good asking for favors in b/w

the match, it’s difficult also.. )

Aadish- “ Arey! Bahot security issues hein yaar! Aur achha thodi lagega, he must

be foccusing, padded up,

And u say , sir! (please) Woh apka autograph chahiye tha!”

( there are lot of security issues, it won’t look good. he must be focused and

padded up and u say.. sir! (please).. I need your autograph!)

I knew deep in my heart that this whole conversation was bull-crap!

In the end, we were just acting coward to realize our dreams. So, we were

placating our own passionate ideas and putting reasons to be silent and go home

passively.

There are always lot of issues surrounding stars and celebrities, but a fan’s religion

is to try hard and break impossibilities!

At that moment, flashed my favorite song video in my mind->

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Michael Jackson’s world tour video , titled–fan hugs Michael Jackson, “you’re not alone”. In that video, a crazy fan-girl jumps the barrier and rushes to the stage and

hugs Michael! (Search for it on you-tube.)

To any die heart fan, that video is an inspiration and motivation to reach his/her

idol of their fond fields & die-for passions.

I have always established Michael Jackson and Sachin in noticeable parallels –

in terms of humility, humanity, divine thrust, grounded nature and them most

commonly known for creating history for this century and for all coming ages.

I was always a great fan of them since childhood. I loved Michael Jackson with all

my adrenalin and soul funk. I worshipped Sachin with my soul grace , with my

passion for cricket. He was my teacher for conduct whenever I was on cricketing

field

- either in school,college or neighbourhood.

One had left the world dancing while other was still present within my sweet sight

,at best possible distance right now. He was my living cricket god, embodying

sports and un-parallel devotion to this discipline.

However, On a lighter note, Me and Aadish were sitting there, doing good moral

talk ! & trying to put our great cricketing ethics! against our heartiest and fondest

of childhood-wishes.

We did that almost successfully! (Thumbs up)

Me- haan! Baat toh thik hai, aise milna thik ni hoga..chalo dekhte hein.

( yaa! Ur right, meeting like this won’t be the right way.. ok no problem, let us

see..)

So, I messaged my father –

‘I will try meeting uncle in the innings break’

It was drinks -break now. Australia suffered heavily in the morning session, with

just a wicket left to spare. They were close to one hundred and fifty runs. People

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were moving around, chit-chattering and buying from stalls. Some were engaged

catching glimpse of Shane Warne, who came out on the balcony at floor-above, to

have a smoke. He again waved to the crowd smilingly.

We moved out into the hallway and drifted along with a group of rushing boys.

They were after Wasim Akram, who was catching the stair flight upstairs.

He said, “hello guys!, jaao match dekho yaar, it a good contest”.

He smiled and rushed up. We followed him to the top, only to find BCCI’S box

guarded by policemen & policewomen, outside of those big semi-reflective

glasses.

After doing ‘Wasim-chasing’ in the break, we moved back into our open-seating at

floor below and braced our-self for the next session. The teams got back into the

ground with full energy, followed with umpires and last two Australian batsmen.

The game started steady and gracefully. The spectators were absorbing the oohs!!

and aahs!! ; some half-chances in the game. There was always a special attention

on the master, who moved swiftly across the ground, to frequent field adjustments.

He has a distinct signature of touching his hat and throwing his arms loosely;

swinging them around.

Whenever he got close to the ropes, crowd got crazy, cameras were out to capture

a snapshot and barricading of iron meshes were tested!

He sometimes waved to the crowd and recognized their cheering for India. He

would talk to the grounds-men in meanwhile, them standing aside boundary, like

his good-old friends. He would keep his focus on the game and also get involved

with the bowlers, conditioning their psychology and sporting a ball to ball

discussion. I saw him crack few laughs with Virat Kohli. I saw him move his head

and arms around , while discussing with Dhoni. He momentarily gazed at the

public, like he knows them more than they know the master.

Truly, he understands the crowd and its dynamics so well, like a veteran scientist

with scientific superiority!

He never gets baffled, either by an overwhelming emotional flood of home crowd

or a passively dried up body language, of antagonist foreign viewers.

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However, I overheard few people in the stand, they were showing annoyance over

their bad luck, for him not waving towards our club- stand or recognizing them in

the meanwhile like other stands. I just listened and smiled (thought loud in my

head!) –

“ you petty minded fools !unburdened by responsibilities !”

I saw crowd making mexican wave and shouting ‘sachin-sachin’, for all the stands

he got close.

I knew what he was doing at those moments. Any genuine fan of master would

know his grace on field. He was simply trying to curtail the crowd movement on

our stand. He knew for sure that one wave, one smile - &-

havoc! Would break loose and the match progression would be in jeopardy!

Especially in a critical situation , where post drinks India had a good chance to

sweep them off quickly. Hence, it was imperative to keep the match going without

least of unnecessary disturbances.

Master has always taken the primary responsibility towards his fans, even if it

means to leading them to an unpopular emotion; like silence!

Nobody in the cricketing world understands the gravity, pressure and sincerity of

popular sports in India like him. Master has always lead the team like brotherhood

and crowd like his young siblings, those super dramatic but adorable kids!

He is a man who sees everything, who understands tiniest and most subtle

emotions around him. Most importantly, it’s impact on-

Dynamics of game, media, personal performances, colleagues, family influences-

those short & long terms.

It therefore only breaks down, to seizing the moment of victory and he knew! ,

that slowly & steadily, crowd will lead into that moment, beyond all this senseless

hullabaloo!

So, he smartly and silently, ceases his emotions for the fans on side-screen and let

it flutter a bit for others.

I just thought of his genius emotional control and wonderful understanding of

International sports arena. I smiled and complied with master’s tacit request. I tried to concentrate on the game instead of shouting and crapping the ambience.

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I attended a test match here in kotla, back in 1998 with my father. The ground was

much bigger then, with classic concrete staircases for general public. I recall what I

saw back then, it was nothing less than bizarre sight. We reached to view that

match and ended up at one of those concrete stands, during the drinks break of the

day. Zimbabwe was batting hard to save the session.

In breaktime, Sachin came towards the drinks stand, tossing a ball from one hand

to another, top spinning it, chit-chatting with others, drinking water and giving his

million dollar smile.

The feroz shah kotla of that time was famous for cheer-tremors! i.e. the crowd

would shout so loud that the ground would literally shake!. Not only inside, but It

was always heard at the outskirts of kotla and even on the roads allying to it.

People talk about mexican waves and I have seen them make so many by vertically

rising up and sitting down. They periodically plan positions to form that wave.

Here to my astonishment, I saw a horizontal wave! Unintentionally periodic and

fierce with passion, yet parallel to the ground it formed so beautifully!

How? ??

When Sachin would toggle his position and started moving sideways , along the

boundary or he would occasionally move back and forth in respect to the ropes-

The whole effing crowd! would rush and literally! collide with the iron meshes

and them poor barricading with cerebral force.

Sometimes I wondered , if people have genuine intentions to break it !!

They were pressing so hard against it! and they were ramming it with their

suicidal & passionate heads. Those were one of the moments that epitomizes fan

following and greatness of Sachin Tendulkar. He was a Rockstar then, he was a

Rockstar now!

.‘Sachin is Forever’.

He looked so distinct and divine to me, back in 1998. His image got impregnated

inside my head since those days.

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India cleared off the aussies by lunch and we had about 159 runs to seal the deal,

with a sweetly possible 4-0 victory over the mighty kangaroos.

People were dispersing outdoors. Some were grabbing food & drinks. I again got a

call from my father regarding my status on meeting uncle. I affirmed to dad’s request but then procrastinated my will for some more time.

The session commenced post lunch and men in blue were out in helmets & pads.

Meanwhile, we were talking about the subtle dynamics of the game & occasionally

tried to get in the In-house moving camera.

The cameraman was moving in and out of stand and covering the sentiments of a

bit lazy afternoon. We were done eating our pizzas and drinking our cokes. I had

visited uncle’s office in that little break , only to find him absent from his seat.

I dropped a message -

‘Hello Sir, I met you the other day with my father Mr. Yogesh Mishra, he asked

me to meet you today.’

It was actually a funny feeling when you try to pitch your emotions of meeting

someone as big a name as Sachin. I mean… What do you say?

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Hi! I would like to meet Sachin! And why?,

how do you qualify to deserve that chance? What makes you special among 1-

billion fans trying to meet him? Do you have anything special for him? And are

you not common enough to NOT think about this ridiculous request. To any man

around, even Aadish, my idea sounded ridiculous and my zeal was simply over the

top.

I was myself sinking in the abyss, judging myself with the qualities & truth of

being a great fan. I was at the brink of kissing my dream or suppressing it hardly

forever.

In most cases, someone as a common thinker and a simple person as myself would

retrieve from the situation & preserve one thing with myself-

My dream, My hope of “someday meeting sachin” and why not?

That’s all I can be sure of i.e. to preserve my treasure of imagination! What if I

push it hard and it breaks? I cannot contend any reason for not failing and breaking

my heart if I try, but it is something only I understood. How much I loved and

worshipped that man, only I understood & therefore understood the risk to be

ridiculed by the world, the people and everyone around.

It was my truth & it had hard realities around it. What if I meet him & get

overwhelmed to say nothing ? There were so many things & I was sinking in the

pit of doubtful voices, unveiling my vulnerability towards a shaky mental -stand.

I thought hard, then I hit send & the message got delivered. I was finally driven

only by one net-force. I wanted to meet Sachin, it was simply the greatest dream of

my life.

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Few months back-

I Sat home, watching an episode on a news channel. It was about 50 things you

don’t know about Sachin. I watched it with my father and we discussed how great

a man is Sachin.

I guess he had a special love & respect from a family like ours, where everyone

has dedicated his life to cricket in some or other way. I wanted to meet him

because we all worshipped cricket in our family & Sachin embodies cricket in

living flesh & spirit-soul. He is truly a god particle in human form, to all cricket

fans around the world.

I dropped a question while watching that telecast->

”Iss century ka sabse mahaan insaan hai aur sabse mahantam sportsman. Isse milne

ka kuch karna padega. Pehle bhi bola tha aap ko, aapne bola koshish karunga.ek

saal ho gaya.”

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( I think he is the greatest man and sportsman of this century. Something must be

done to meet him. I had asked you before as well, you said you will try. It’s been

an year since)

My father nodded consciously & said- “hmmm…”

He had himself met Sachin for few minutes while he was with Vinod Kambli for

lunch in the hotel ( -The hotel ,my dad works for)

I was watching the television & realized, that he is the only man whose autograph I

desired & nobody else’s. It is the only! Dream I had nurtured for such a long time.

But, wishes don’t fond-in and turn to reality so often!

This bitter truth is familiar to all people who live commonly in this world.

India was chasing ahead of the asking rate. They were half-way home with sober-

screenplay on the ground. We were watching the match quite decently & enjoying

ourselves. The idea of pitching to uncle again, was now post-poned till the end of

day’s play.

India was already a wicked down & I knew , that the giant was focused and ready!

Some people are so special that not even the greatest power can get to them , if

they want to float in seclusion.

If Sachin Tendulkar wants to sit and meditate on the game, can even the prime

minister of ours’ or any nation for the matter, get to him. Forget Vishu Mishra.

(no!- is the only answer).

I had thought of meeting him in practice sessions, but they were most randomly

scheduled. The IPL’s are under radar and strict on reasons of Spot fixations. The

one days’ are too hectic and enervating for the players’ themselves. The only times

conducive to meet would be such test matches, which happen not so often.

In addition to its mild frequency, I was at the crunch of time with this game

ending to a quick result by today itself! & Sachin now padding up! For a walk on

Delhi grass.

My chances of meeting him were getting feeble. My luck would have to assimilate

all goodness of my karma of this life and still! It be just touch & Go! I had to stay

optimistic & try hard not losing hope. I closed my eyes & took a deep breath,

22

thinking about the file & poster in my hand.

Meanwhile, the stadium began to tremble. It now coheres with my prayers & the

roar of thirty thousand souls, them deafened the skies!

The world stopped! Mud on the stairs & iron bars began to shake-off. India lost its

second wicket & it was time!

Ever been to a zoo? Ever seen a tiger or a lion moving around with ferocity. The

whole stadium transformed into a barbaric arena of Roman Age. I felt the warmth

of a million hearts beating, to collude and savour on the best of that moment. They

were suddenly out of their skins & un-veiled to the non-believers, as the devotees

of one religion, one code, one honor call! They were all true followers and Sachin

stood in that mega scenery, like a Royal Bengal Tiger.

Every time it happens, this moment is so thrilling!, it is so bone chilling!

that thinking or re-creating those seconds in words, gives me mental spikes and

Goosebumps!

He walked slowly to the crease, commanding respect of all forms –

Devotions, beliefs, every-head bowed to his un-questionable credentials & his

supreme persona. He walked as foraciously !(ferocious & rare ) , most easily seen

in the ground, like a white elephant.

He was visible, he was pure. He was different than any other man on that field, or

on those chairs in stands, or likely to be anywhere in the world.

He walked out as the most decorated sportsman of all times. He walked with the

aura of Divine Ages. He walked-out like the godly heroes of Indian Mythology.

Them crazy fans-

They call him arjun, they call him krishna, they call him Archilles, they call him

Alexander the Great (sikander).

23

When I was six years old, I went to the Delhi zoo with my father , for the first time

in my young life.

We bought tickets for the days’ tour and started our trip. There were so many excited visitors entering with us. I have faded memories of the tour except the part

when the lion roared! The whole crowd got agitated.

Some were scared & froze, while others followed the source of it. The same thing

happened when I visited the tigers’ cage by afternoon.

The point worth noticing was that –

Among so many animals put to fabulous presentations, only two of them created

exceptions at the zoo, in terms of crowd response.

Nobody ever had to pin-point their location, their cage or their den, but simply

follow the roars and not the zoo’s map!

In the feroz shah stadium, the roar was churned by the thousands of fans & like a

tiger walked out the great man.

I can confirm, that he has the presence like those two exceptional beings at the

24

zoo. However, unlike them- he is humble &grounded.

while like them -he is rarest of the rare and moved out with rock solid

concentration.

He was devoid of distractions of the visitors –who were whit-whistlings!, woo-

wooting! But he was preying like a tiger, on the other team! It happens in every

match he plays.

The moment din’t last much, as master returned shortly after his arrival.

However, India was in a very favorable situation to lose any hope. India was well

towards a good finish.

Aadish was flustered and kept looking at his wrist watch & his hat too sometimes.

Aadish had already decided to leave away, owing to his exams , while I had

decided to stay uptill presentation ceremony. My decision was also giving me

longer-rope , to help me settle my dust of mental confusion.

Me- “toh hat mein rakhun” (should I keep the hat then)

Aadish –“haan rakh le vishu, baad mein le lunga, dekh le.. waise toh ni hoga..”

(ya u keep it vishu, I will take it later from u, most probably nothing will happen

{but anyways}… )

Me- “ haan thik hai, chal bhai! See u later..”

(ya okay, see u later.. )

So I stood alone, among the left-over of crowd. Most of the people were strolling

towards the exit, as the match result was quite clear .Some people got bored as un-

certainty of this game was over and felt like leaving for their day’s work.

Scarcely after Aadish left, India won &they had beaten Australia with 4-0 clean

sweep.

Finally in end, the trophy stayed with the home-team!

The whole scene blossomed into wonderful celebrations & victory laps were

circuited by the Indian team!

The team took few rounds and hurdled along with the giant, who was relaxing in

the milder sun, sporting his ‘Sahara’ t-shirt and shorts. Indian team took a final lap

& waved to the crowd. I myself stood on one of seats & toed –up to get the clear

25

view of Sachin & his excellent crew.

There were few people, who had their usual requests of clicking their snaps-

with the beautiful background, another snap with the team in the background &

one last! with the presentation -ceremony in the backdrop.

I understood the cons! of roaming around in an half empty stand & catered

sportingly, to the humble requests of excited people -“sir ! sir! Please ek pic! Background aana chahiye!” etc etc

(sir! Sir! Please one picture, background should be visible in the click)

The old club house stand began to dessert out. I had a strange feeling rising inside

from my gut. It diminished all timid fears, complexes & notions. It made me stand

to the truth of the current situation & I felt like standing at the brink of a blinding

curve. It was either a walk out from the stairs, back to home or it was a full-fledged

tryout.

I took some deep breathes & revised my reasons for carrying out that green colored

file, that SG hat and that remarkable million dollar worth of poster.

I sinusoidally rose in confidence, but it was persistent this time, it was there to stay

for the rest of this day!

I believed in my truth and decided to take my chances, why?-

because I was one of the greatest fans of Sachin Ramesh Tendulkar.

I simply couldn’t retrieve without trying my best. I learned that from the master all my life whether it be –cricket, general efforts or plain humanitarian conduct. I do

abide by them all times and all situation. So, I had to try hard and give in my

efforts.

26

I had decided!

So, I silently got off that chair. I was much calmer, resolved and focused. I gave it

a last thought & looked at the poster of Sachin, I slightly nodded with a sub-

conscious remark and took my steps towards the administrator’s office, on the first

floor on the stand.

I gave a call to Mr. Pankaj Bharadwaj. He instantly cut my call due to some

reasons. I started strolling near the staircase awaiting some response. I got a revert

call in sometime-

Uncle-“ haan, aap office mein aa jao 20 minute mein”

(ya! You please come in the office in 20 minutes)

Me(anxiously) - “ okay sir! Thank you”

It was on!

A great stirring rose from within my belly and pushed adrenalin throughout my

mortal flesh. It gave breath to my immortal hopes. I just knew in my heart that

something was definitely up.

20 Mins later-

I entered the office and greeted him.

27

Uncle- “match dekha aapne, kaisa laga”

(did you see the match, did u like it)

Me-“ haan sir! Achha tha! Result aagaya” (I smiled) ( yes sir! It was good! With result!)

Then he again started talking to the person sitting across the table. They were

discussing about the formation of this Delhi pitch and how frequently has feroz

shah produced game results for international test matches.

I meanwhile sat there scanning the room. It was full of cricket. It had posters of all

times, all great players, medallions, old cups & trophies. It was like a mini museum

of cricket, in that small space.

It strongly reminded me of my sports room in school. It was simple, It was mono-

themed and it was very welcoming with a pleasing aura. It was simply

‘A cricket room’ They were still talking about the upcoming IPL & its business. How the IPL affects

all other entertainment businesses around the country, in days of tournament.

Then, a young guy entered-

Uncle- “arey! Vijendre kahan hai”

(hey! Where is vijendre)

Guy- “sir! Woh toh uss side hai”

(sir! He is on the other side)

Uncle-“haan! Usse bulao, inko team se milwana hai, bolo meine request kiya hai”

(ya! Call him, have to meet him with the team, ask him I have requested )

Guy- “thik hai sir!”

(ya okay sir)

Minutes later he entered-

Uncle-“haan! Kya hua,kahan hai vijendre”

(ya! What happened, where is vijendre)

Guy- “sir! Who busy hai, aa nahin payega”

(sir ! he is busy, he won’t be able to come)

28

Uncle- “arey! Toh aisa karo, tum inhein wahan le jaao”

( u do one thing, u take him there)

Guy- “ sir! Vijendre hi karwa payega, mein inhein gate paar ni karwa sakta, inka toh pass bhi nahin hai”

(sir! Vijendre will only be able to do it, I won’t be able to get him across the gate,

he doesn’t even carries a pass)

The trivia went on & on for few minutes and I sat there looking down on the

carpet. I was silently listening to the conversation and momentarily gazed around

the room to subside my uneasy-ness.

Uncle then called vijendre and asked him to come immediately.

Some-time later he entered-

A young looking, energetic man in his mid-twenties.

Uncle (Instructively) - “ suno! Inhe le jao aur team se milwa do!”

(listen! U take him and meet him with the team)

Vij-“sir! Abb toh team nikalne waali hai, mushkil hai”

(sir! The team is about to leave, it’s difficult)

Uncle (calmly) -“koi ni! Abhi time hai, jao”

(its okay, there is still time, go)

Vij(sincerely)- “sir! Poora paar nahin karwa paunga,aap iss gate pe bol do aur

andar khurrana sir hein ,floor manager”

(sir! I wont be able to get him through completely, you please pass a message to

this gate and also khurrana sir is the floor manager inside..)

Uncle (to me,generously )- “aapk inke saath chale jaaiye, ye aapko milwa denge”

(you please go with him, he will get you to meet the team)

Me(amazed)-“thank you so much sir”

(I was already feeling very humbled and grateful)

29

I shook hands with the good man in his office and then left with vijendre as he

guided.

On my way towards the first level of security gates at Feroz Shah Kotla-

Vijendre-“aap kaise jaante hein bharadwaj sir ko”

(how do you know sir)

Me – “umm.. mere dad ke friend hein”

(he Is my dad’s friend)

[Although my dad knew him in a very humbling acquaintance]

Vijendre –“ hmm.. pass toh ni hoga aapke paas, gate kaise cross hoga”

(you must not be carrying the pass, how will we cross the gate )

We were pacing towards the dressing room, which was hurdled by a lot of security

gates and protocols. I needed to have a pass to get through the first level and

another for entering the players’ stand. I was carrying none!

I was thinking about those Disney cartoons where princess is protected by

devils/dragons or the diamond is surrounded by traps and troubles.

I knew the destination man was pure, humble and generous. It was but the people

who surround him, protect him & guard his privacy. They are usually mean,

thorned on tongue, antagonizing and shrewd.

It’s okay, if I could get away with little intimidation or even a little verbal violence

put to me. It’s not a bad price to see the man I regard the most. I was mentally

prepared to face resistance and I had already caught a second wind of luck in that

afternoon.

Some strong feeling kindled inside my gut, compelled me to move through

concrete walls & break the usual barriers.

Now standing near those gates-

Vijendre-“ aap ek minute rukiye, mein poochta hun”

(you please wait here a minute, I will go and ask)

30

He walked ahead of me to do the task. I got to a halt , stood still in my position

while he enquired the guards about unlocking of gates. I overheard their dialogues,

they only lead to my disappointment, as the doors were to stay locked and the keys

were with a different security officer posted elsewhere in the ground.

He (vij.) shook his head in an un-pleasant manner and returned to convey the gist

of his communication.

Vij- “ abb mein kaise le jaun sir, gates toh lock ho jaate hein match ke baad,

ground me se le jaana allowed ni hai”

(now how should I get you through sir, gates get locked after the match, and it’s

not allowed to take any one through the ground)

I was carrying my British Council batch-ID and it looked like a pass to an average

eye. Vijendre looked at it for a second ( & pondered)-

Vij- “ hmm..chalo aao! Bass mere saath hi rehna ! warna police waale questioning

kar sakte hein”

(hmm.. okay come! But stay with me! Otherwise policemen can question you)

To my funny imaginations & parallel world of day-dreams, I was feeling like

sudama at lord krishna’s gate. Period.

I had no merit to enter Lord’s palace but my pure zeal and fan’s inspiration was pushing me against all ridiculous odds. I smiled & followed him (vij.) into the

ground’s boundary.

31

We entered the kotla’s grass through other gate. There were lot of people carrying

badges & passes! (‘bloody badge & pass culture’, I thought)

The mix of security personnel, Delhi policemen & other authorities were hurdling

around the slow walking Shane Watson. Vijendre was among them too, he got into

the chaos & managed to get a click with Watson. He was very happy about his

success! & smilingly! He added it his phone’s photo collection. I was pretty sure

he had lot of pics with all popular faces of sports.

Meanwhile, I was compelled to stay closer as he instructed earlier.

I was thinking about my bad habit of adding numerology to all significant

situations. This one was top -menu – of crazy, spontaneous and sublime.

My ticket was sl#00638 , which added up to 8. (6+3+8=17->1+7=8 , normal

method of finding a singular number for association in numerology ).

It was my most significant number, as I had observed by myself in past years. On

other consideration, today was 24th, which was master’s most significant number

32

(His birth date!).

I tried connecting two in my head & fed positive feedback to this thin situation &

my status,it suddenly! Seemed very positively backed up by Numbers! & Destiny!

(Destiny was running here with a big D !)

I felt a spike of re-assurance with myself, but then there were so many things

which were still to be unveiled. I couldn’t discount them from the equation nor I

could fail but make a psychic connection with the master!

Coming out of that photo- tussle! Vijendre was done with taking the pic and

storing it securely! In his phone’s gallery.

He now got back to me-

Vij (cheerful)- “ Toh haan sir, Aap batao, kaise milwaayein aapko”

(yes sir! You say, how should I get you to meet them )

Me (humbly) – “kaise matlab sir, aap hi milwa sakte ho”

(how means what.. sir, you can only do this)

we were now walking slower and we were trying to discuss a workable solution .

Vij(cordially)- “dekho sir! Bahot mushkil hai! Team shower le ri hai aur jaane

waali hai, aapne thoda late kar diya, pehle aate toh shayad ho jaata..”

(listen sir! It is very difficult! Team is taking shower and they are about to leave,

you took time to come here and got late, if you could have come earlier then

maybe ..)

Me- “ achhaa.. ( I was put off to his comments) , dekh lo aap try karo, aapke haat

mein hai sir”

(okk.. please see sir! It’s in your hands! )

Vij (humbly smiled) – “ mere haat mein ni hai na sir, badi protocols hein, waise

kiss kisse milna hai aapko”

(its not in my hands sir, there are lot of protocols, by the way, whom all do you

want to meet)

Me (stumbled)- “mujhe (heart stopped)..sir mujhe toh.. Mr. Sachin se milna hai”

33

(me.. sir! I just want to.. meet..Mr. sachin..)

[Translation! cannot truly suffice how stupid I Sounded at that moment]

LOL!! “Mr. Sachin .” WTF! Mr. Vishu !.

Who in the sane fan world talks like you. I was so damn out of box with my reply

to vijendre. It is because I felt so ridiculous to my own request , that my words

came out so lame and in a weird manner.

I felt very uneasy, to even think about the weight of my request or to directly look

vij. in eye and dare wait for the reactions of that person, who was anticipating

something ..( I dunno)..

‘ more realistic! & proportionate to the situation!!’

No pass. Bad timing.no identity and ‘this’ guy wants to meet ‘The legend-Sachin

Tendulkar’. I was pretty sure he was thinking so stupid of me to put on that request on his

enquiry.

Vij –“oh!! (taunting and frivolously bantering) toh aapko “Mr. sachin” se milna hai. Woh! toh impossible sa hi hai sir!

.. aaiye ..idhar se..”

(ohh!.so you want to meet mr. sachin, that! Is almost impossible sir!)

We moved into the concrete path, from the grassy boundary line-

Vij- “mere saath rahiye sir, warna aapko rok lenge”

(please walk with me, otherwise they will stop you)

The policemen posted outside the players’ wing were so many, that they out-

numbered the normal crowd by at-least a ratio of 2:1.

I dint challenge any one of them with an eye contact. I was simply focused on my

concept of beating the dragons to reach the diamond!

Vijendre stopped-

Vij( analytically)- “Ye dekhiye sir! Team yahan se uthregi! Yahan police aur

media hai.players’ ko rok ke toh ni milwa paunga mein. (rhetorical) upar team shower le ri hai, aap hi batao mein kahan milwaaon aapko”

34

(see this place sir! This is from where the team will get down and leave, here there

is police and media, I cannot stop the players to meet you (isn’t it?),

And team is taking shower upstairs, you please suggest where should I try to get

you to meet them)

Me(sincerely) “ sir! Mujhe sirf Sachin sir se milna hai, aap poori koshish kijiye,

request hai..”

(Sir! I just want to meet sachin sir, you please try your best, it is a request..)

I dint say much, but all I said was with a deep voice that meant every syllable.

He noted my voice and nodded to my words.

We entered the ground floor hall via the concrete incline. We entered a hall which

was the office and looked like the reporting room of wings’ staff. The Big glass windows of the hall had a clear view of the ground and the pitch.

There were tables, computers, documents, flat-screens on walls & the diagonal

corner had a seating ,of a group of analysts-

umpires, referees, BCCI Officials, along with a distinct figure ‘Mr. Sunil Gavaskar’.

I stood at one corner but overheard the discussion, it was about the pitch and it’s

composition, about the game strategy of this match.

Meanwhile, vijendre asked me to sit down while he attended some work. I

preferred to stand and watch the LCD screen. I was too agitated to sit, as I stood in

the building where players stayed. I was also feeling inferiority complex of non-

belonging to the zone. So, I dint sit and decided to stand and circumspect the place.

Few minutes passed, a random voice enquired (to me)-

“aap kiske saath hein”

(whom are you with.. )

Vij (replied)-“mere saath hein ye, pankaj bharadwaj ji ne bheja hai”

(he is with me , Pankaj bharadwaj sir has send him here)

Few minutes later, he asked me to follow him into the lift. There was a service boy

who was carrying some stuff in a wheel trolley up-stairs. He acknowledged

vijendre and we both entered the lift beside him.

35

I was now entering into the zone that was hidden from the world. It was like a

secret door towards the wonder-land of cricketers. It reminded me of the U2-Song,

where streets have no name. I entered the lift and eloped away from the regular

dimensions of the real works.

It was in 2010 when Sachin Tendulkar appeared on the social network ( twitter ).

The entire twitter went crazy and million people followed the master in one night.

He clicked his own picture and uploaded on the twitter to remove everyone’s doubt of a possible forged profile. I shared that picture on my facebook , saying ‘god on twitter’. Sachin then started sharing his likes and hobbies. One of the very first was

his mentioning of his most favorite song –‘Where streets have no name by U-2’. He also mentioned that he listened to it in his early morning Car-Drives. I saw that

tweet and immediately downloaded that Song. The music was a meld of both ‘high octave positivity’ and Sachin’s name now earmarked with those beats. It was my staple music diet in all depressing and low moral situations in the college days i.e.

either academic or personal. Such is the psychological effect of anything that gets

association with the master.

Vij- “ Sir! Upar sirf ye lift jaati hai, Isse aagey mein ni jaa paunga. Andar khurrana

ji manage kar re hein, abb woh hi milwa payenge agar hua toh..”

(Sir, only this lift goes upstairs, I cannot go further than this, inside Mr. khurrana is

managing, now only he can get you through.. )

Me (acknowledging & appreciating)- “haan thik hai sir!”

(ya! Okay sir!)

Meanwhile, they talked about how some foreign players walk around naked in the

locker rooms, before taking their showers. How the culture & understanding of

them and ours differs by such a wide proportion.

It was a typical service staff talk, like how they all talk in all hotels and

commercial places. It was overheard but nevertheless meaningless to me as I was

mentally involved somewhere else. I was trying to imagine upstairs, as a lobby bi-

furcated into home team and visitor’s team sections and that each side-players

would be in their own rooms.

36

Lift hit clink & the door opened into a congested gallery. It was at best 15 feet by 8

feet. There was an old-cranky policeman standing afore green curtains covering a

half-opened glass door. There were lot of people standing outside (mostly those

providing services inside ), they were all sitting around ,chattering among

themselves. One of them was familiar to vijendre.

Man- “aur vijendre, duty khatam?”

(ssup vijendre, duty over?)

Vij- “ni! Jaa raa hunn, inhe milwaana hai”

(no! am going back, had to meet him..)

Man (curiously)-“achha! Kisse”

(oh! With whom)

Vij(loud & clear) - “Sachin sir se milna hai inhe”

(he wants to meet Sachin sir)

( he stressed on Sachin’s name either out of too much respect or simply trying to put me into the spot)

Man(surprised)- “ooh!!”

There were atleast 7-8 heads turning with Sachin’s name,which was reverberating

for long in that gallery. They all looked at me shell-shocked, as if I was guilty of

over-ambition.

37

Sachin sir se milne aaye hein VISHU SIR! LOL! That’s exactly how people radiated their thoughts to me, around this whole process. I appreciated the tinge of

humor as a third person but talking sincerely about it, I was being put to introspect

& measure my own feelings at times &it tested my zeal to meet my inspiration. I

tried to stay composed.

I knew about this test and how people try to measure you, especially in such

situations.

Vijendre broke his short talk with that man and got back to me-

Vij(informatively)- “sir, abb andar khurrana sir hi milwa sakte hein”

(Sir! Now only khurrana sir can get you inside.. )

(His phone started ringing)

Vij(flustered)- “sir mujhe niche jaana hai. Mein kaam ni chodd sakta, aap ruko, khurrana sir aayenge”

(sir! I have to go downstairs, I cannot leave work, you stay, khurrana sir will

38

come.. )

Me(agitated)-“aarey.. aap.. bol do na kisi ko!”

(Hey.. you please.. atleast tell someone to get him out)

Vij(complying)-“haan..”

(yaa..)

(He called someone, who momentarily flashed from behind the green curtain s,

guarded by the cranky policeman and Vijendre copied what I had asked-

‘to call Mr.khurrana from inside’. He (vij. ) simply simulated to my agitations and left me waiting for Mr. khurrana.

He left via lift & I was left standing alone in that congested gallery. Now,

everybody was staring at me.

A boy dressed in red t-shirt, wearing an SG hat & carrying a file & a roll of poster

paper in left hand.

A man said-

“sir! Team jaane waali hai, aap jaldi mil lo warna woh log chale jayenge”

(Sir! Team is about to leave, you please meet them quicky, else they will be gone)

Another man said-

“sir! Vijendre ni aayega, who goli de gaya aapko. aapko usse rokna chahiye tha”

(Sir! Vijendre will not come, he fooled you up, you should have stopped him)

I stood there blank for a few minutes, alienated & thinking about what to do next.

The policeman’s frown grew bolder and persistent. I took a deep breath & walked

towards him.

Me(positively)- “sir! Mujhe bharadwaj sir ne bheja hai! Aap please khurrana ji ko

bula dijiye”

(Sir! Mr. bharadwaj has sent me here, you please call mr. khurrana from inside)

Policeman(coldy)- “sir! Jisko aana hai apne aap aa jayega, aap yahan mat khade hoiye, camera ke saamne”

(Sir! Whosoever has to come out,will come out on his own. You please don’t stand here in front of the camera)

39

Me-“hmm.. thik hai sir”

(hmm.. okay sir)

I thought about my devils and diamonds theory. I again walked few steps back and

stood near the lift.

I started thinking ,if I should call vijendre or wait for Mr. khurrana to turn up. I

waited for another five minutes. I watched people move behind curtains-Australian

faces, indian faces, service boys etc.

I drifted few times to the left and the policeman repeatedly asked me to get off the

camera view. Everyone kept looking at me as if ‘Abb ye champu kya karega’!!

So, I decided to take my final action. I called uncle again and started talking loudly

with an undertone of authority.

(I talked loudly just to create an impression around the hall and those staring eyes

of people. )

Me( loud, clear & aggressive)- “haan sir! ye vijendre ji toh chodd ke chale gaye!

aur khurrana ji aaye hi ni! Aap please unhe ek baar bol dijiye, I am waiting outside

the dressing room. The team is about to leave sir”

(yes Sir! This Vijendre left me here outside the dressing room! And mr. vinod dint

turn up! You please tell him again, I am waiting outside the dressing room. The

team is about to leave sir)

Uncle(calmy)- “haan! .. mein bolta hun”

(haan..okay! I am tellling him.)

[ He understood that I got really flustered in the situation and was really asking for

help!. He replied and acted very calmly]

40

Only I knew how difficult it was to do such a talk!

Firstly, my dad knew him in a very humbling acquaintance and secondly, I had

met him for the second time & I was already asking so much of him!

I knew I did little besharmi! & did some loud talk, because the moment was so

exceptional. No other time & place I could have made such dialogues on phone.

The humble being inside of me was doing face-palm! and understood the heaviness

of talking so loudly. Though for a moment it felt good, as I overpowered the

situation and the ambiance around me was commanded. It was a mixed feeling.

I had done all I could have possibly done. I now simply stood in front of those

curtains to find out my truth. The truth about this gut feeling, the truth about my

dream & the truth about this thin situation. I could clearly see that a thin green

drape holds the difference between dreams and reality.

I stood there as most common with nothing but an appreciation for my idol, a file

with poetry of some merit & a poster bought not so long ago from roadside seller

in Connaught place.

A mental buoyance took over me, I felt metaphysical & I was internally suspended

from the real world. All other petty things were there, but they lay in a faded

backdrop. A resonance hit my head, like tongs striking a tumbler.

My Euphoria, my nostalgia, my passion & my most fond dream were all awaiting a

response from behind those green curtains.

I stood there focused, very positive and sincere on my stand. It was just like ‘Hachi

the dog’ stood everyday on the railway track, to find the only thing he came

looking for, in that alien platform full of strangers. I had the honesty, emotions,

zeal, hope and innocence like of a dog in people’s world.

I was much calmer now and my brain had stopped thinking about anything else!

All other chaotic emotions and agitations were overpowered. Numbness had

prevailed inside my mind and around my visible arc of reality. My imagination

bowed down its wilderness and I humbly stood by myself , in that congested room.

It felt like a solitary grassland, with nothing but nostalgic wind hovering around

and rain, that was percolating eloquence through my dry reality.

41

My reality! It had been completely overwhelmed today, with this sudden outpour

of these series of events since morning.I was continuously getting reminiscence of

all past memories of cricket, directly and indirectly they connected and terminated

to Sachin Tendulkar.

I achieved sagacity of thoughts-Involuntarily like a sign, like a purification ritual

before meeting the living God. It trimmed down my age of realization, back to the

childhood.

It took me to gully cricket, cricket in parks, cricket in barren grounds, cricket on

cemented tracks, modified and innovated cricket games on terrace, cricket in rain,

cricket in the backdoors, practicing batting & stroke-making of bat with a hanging

ball, practicing -straight drives, cover drives, on-drives, Memories of school to the

memories of cricket ground in college, my cricket club and all times wearing white

kit. It cherished and highlighted all moments, that I rejoiced & cried with master’s

rise and fall on the cricket ground.

There was a torrent of memories blowing in my head & on the exterior I got

calmer & much calmer like a placid mountain lake.

42

A voice started echoing! From a very distant point and it started wearing my ears

more & more. Few milliseconds later, it instantly turned out from a much nearer

source. It grew louder and clearer and got into my aural focus-

“ Mishra! .. Mishra!… Mishra kaun hai.. aap hein mishra” ,asked mr. khurrana,

appearing out of the green curtains.

43

Me( zen in mind) –

(breaking my mental cobwebs, my nostalgic mode and dropping out of my mental

buoyance, I answered.. though without much comprehension.. )

“haan.. yes.. yes sir! Vishu Mishra…”

Mr. khurrana- “oh! (he smiled) aapko milna hai Sachin se! sirf Sachin se hi milna

hai ya kisi aur se bhi milna hai”

(oh! You want to meet Sachin, only Sachin or anyone else also)

Me(definite & calm)-“sir..I just want to meet Sachin.”

Manager(smiled & looked at my belongings )- “.. & do you have a gift for Sachin

also”

Me- “yes sir! Here’s a poster of Sachin holding the world cup”

(I opened it to show him, it also came out involuntarily as I been around security

checks and protocols all day, so without failing I would show everything and prove

I carried no harm to any soul!

Though it’s little depressing doing it again & again to security people but it’s a necessary shock therapy, especially to people who don’t respect protocols & rules.)

-“and here’s a file of poems, I am a writer, those are the best I have written in past

10 years”

Those were actually the best of what I could find among my work. I had kept them

for another dream, of getting published but I wanted to offer Sachin, the best I

could possibly do. It was a very simple gesture.

There are so many fans and people who love him. There are so many remarkable

artists, painters, poets, writers. They can brew a jewel out of their amazing skills &

brush it out to fit a better gift for Sachin. It’s all very true but what actually

mattered,was that I must give what the best I think! I can do.

I can write good poems; those are the skill I mustered since I was 14-15 years old.

That is the best I could give.

I was very confident about my concept & my presentation.

44

Manager(attentively) – “hmm.. are these poems on sachin?”

me (sincerely)- “No sir! They are not directly written for him but they are the best

of my work. I want to gift him.”

Manager (positively nodded)- “Okay ,Mishra. .Wait here a minute.. I will just

come..”

(if I was allowed inside, it has to be finally permitted from the master himself!

Under most circumstances it be denied as I was there at a wrong time and in wrong

place , but who knows! Master understands his fans better than most celebrities

and Sport stars)

Mr. khurrana disappeared behind the curtains & I froze at the very spot of our

conversation.

Policeman (got cranky,frowned again)- “dekhiye! Mein aapko kitni baar bolun,

aapk beech mein khaade matt hoiye! Aap side mein khade ho jaiye! Yahan camera

hai”

(you listen! How many times do I have to tell you, you please don’t stand in the middle, you go stand in the corner, here its camera!)

Me- (thinking about my theory again)

-“ji sir!” (very calmly,with a smile)

(okay sir!)

Policeman- “ dekhiye aapko mein baar baar isliye keh raha hunn, yahan pass walon

ki bhi entry nahin hai! Aapke paas toh pass bhi nahin hai!, aap camera mein ni

dikh sakte aise”

(listen, I am telling you again and again because, here! Even people with pass are

not being allowed, you don’t even have any pass!, you can’t be seen in the

camera)

he was trying to explain himself though ended up being consistently rude.

45

Me(complying) – “ji sir! Mein samajh gaya! Mein idhar khada ho jaata hunn! Sorry…”

(yes sir! I understood! I will stand here! Sorry.. )

The policeman though rude was right. The norms of BCCI do not permit player’s interaction with strangers and visitors inside the ground. Therefore, it is

egregiously bad and a big NO! To a ridiculous request or a possibility of meeting

them inside the very dressing room!!

The standards of Indian cricket dressing room must be maintained with no

deviation.

There had been a recent latent pressure owing to spot fixations and b-grade

conduct by some players and associates. Moreover, the IPL’S have added more

Havoc! to strengthen these undue constraints. Imagine! If every now and then,

People start pouring inside the dressing room, what could happen to the standards

of environment, national priorities etc. The issue was current and had a sincere

tone of appeal in it. However, I being simply a fan ‘hated it!’, though I understood

my sweet luck and this sublime situation.

There were three levels of security for a reason and it was sometimes deviated on

personal grounds & exceptions, as men can decide better than letters of protocol.

The essence of system and spirit of the rules is more astutely executed manually,

than with automations!, access control systems! And bio-metrics!

People running these top priority security zones understand the clear concepts and

essentials of -incidental differences, situations and requirements. Hence, there’s a clear difference, between what is essential and what is simply a clause, a binding

language in the rule- list.

A fan understands the need for deviation. I’m simply that fan, in the middle of this

wild chaos over protocols.

In the meantime, I was submerged under the memories of past. I was eight year old

and I was fascinated by the process of making a cricket bat at home (Saharanpur).

We found a cuboidal shaped, half rain wet wood log. We measured it with a proper

length bat & used an axe to cut through it to handle’s depth. Then we would leave

a thickness in proportion to a normal bat’s handle. Then someone among us would

work on peeling off the edges, rounding the base, giving cuts at four edges &

46

finally putting a cut-out tyre tube for a grip. This would take a few hours to a few

days. Then its regular use would make it nice & available for a plastic ball match

(medium weight ball, 2RS-4RS cost, in 1997-98, it’s the one with red and white

Doppler stripes).

23-Mangal Nagar was an address at Saharanpur (U.P.) where cricket could easily

prevail 24-hrs a day. It was purely and genuinely a ‘house of/for cricket’, pure as

fan hood of Sachin or Sachin’s passion for cricket.

There in that house, Cricket was happening on the cemented wicket in the sunlight,

it was happening on the muddy wicket (this wicket lay tangentially to the runner’s end of the cemented pitch). It could be a roof-top game. It could be a verandah

match, half-veradah and slip out cricket, cricket in inner hall under yellow lights.

The whole Mangal Nagar knows it. Enough people were in home to form two

teams of 5 a side. Young kids of our age would play cricket cards in the meanwhile

and in the sidelines of exciting home cricket. Some elder taught me ‘how to

defense’ like the master, How to act in body-language like the Indian batting heart-

throb ,standing cross legged on the runner’s end or squatting down to make your

box proper even though you’re playing with a plastic ball and not wearing one!!

There were so many eight inches, one side blank note books I had filled , with

colored & black n white newspaper cuttings -of Sachin alone, Sachin with Saurav

Ganguly, Sachin with Lara and of so many Sport stars with Sachin. The magical

straight drive was the zenith of cricketing techniques in our straight running,

cemented courtyard’s match.

There were just so many things connected to Sachin Tendulkar, infinite moments –remarkable, notable, some trivial but all worth assimilating in your pool of

thoughts. They all hide within your memories and send you the burst of powerful

emotions, whenever something related to Sachin comes up. The 25 years of life

had done its work, slowly and persistently on all master’s fan and those

impressions are irrevocable!

.Sachin is forever.

I had newspaper cuttings that explained how the right-handed star was originally a

left-handed boy & I felt proud to have the same association. When cyber-café’s got viral in Delhi and I got my chance to grab on master’s info. I noted down his date of birth, his likes and dislikes, etcetera.

47

I had been keeping his name in my account’s password question for so long, in

young age: ‘who is your childhood hero?’

I have been going to temples on his birthday as a kid and prayed for his well-being

and for his centuries in upcoming tours. It was a sacred connection with the god, as

I felt being blessed by the almighty of cricket above in heaven, by praying for the

one who walks among us in mortal form.

These all memories were always consistent, always silent & only for my personal

facts of life.

However, at the moment, I was standing frozen afore those green curtains. The

oldest & newest doors of emotions were breaking against my realization. They

were pouring like rain in my head; they were mixing like a whirlpool of thousand

waterfalls, storming into each other.

It was beyond my control & I had lost the touch of my age and conscious

resistance of sober-sanity. I time travelled in my mind back to 94’ 96’ 99’ 01’ 02’. I stood there too young, childlike & innocent. I was stubborn on the thought of

fulfilling this chapter & going across that Door of Destiny ! to see that man who

commands my ocean of memories, millions of moments and lifetime of fan

48

dedication.

It is to see the source, the commander of billion souls, the master of billion hearts,

those billions of hearts were at-moment commiserating with similar feelings of

devotion for the master.

When I was in midst of this mental trance, Mr. Khurrana returned & stood half

way out through that glassy door ,semi-hidden with green curtains.

The curtains! through which, I was trying to enter for past thirty minutes.

Manager (sanguinely) – “mishra! Come..”

Policeman(mind-boggled) - “sir! Inhe kahan le jaa rahe hein! Inke paas toh pass

bhi nahin hai”

(Sir! Where are you taking him, he doesn’t even has a pass)

Manager(calmly)- “koi baat nahin, ye mere saath hein”

(it’s okay! He is with me)

Policeman-“sir! Pehle hi 3 log jaa chuke hein, bina pass ke!”

(sir! Already 3 people have entered, without pass)

Manager (instructively & pro-actively)- “ dekhiye! Mein manager hunn iss floor kaa! Mein manage kar raha hunn naa. Teen logg jaa chuke hein, ek aur chala

jayega!”

(listen! I am the manager of this floor and I am managing! If Three people have

gone through, one more can go..)

With that said ,Mr. khurrana, (like a knight!) asked me to follow him across the

curtains towards the right. I finally crossed that green-curtain & moved towards the

right, into the Indian dressing room.

By this moment, I was already ablaze by the Euphoria. My functional abilities

were reduced to a local distance. I had no peripheral vision, rather watery eyes &

little blurred with anxiety. My brain was trying hard to absorb the changes &

record the description of the place.

So, I entered through right into the hallway-

49

The dressing room was filled with a lot of chit-chatter, buzzing voices of super

excited winner’s crew, like a typical sports team should locate their voices and

chew away the silence of big halls.

I can recall a lot of green around the place-maybe it was the carpet, maybe it was

the curtains. I wasn’t in complete active conscience to be definite. I was walking

slowly, defending my comfort zone with short strides of movements and taking

small steps towards my divine destination. I tried not to look anyone in the eye and

moved straight wards, following the manager. He understood that I was little

intimidated and blinded by the stardom around me, maybe in a traumatic way. He

walked just in front to me and kept asking me to follow him. I deliberately kept my

vision limited though I still managed to smile at Suresh Raina, who was the first

person I encountered at the door step.

The room was shining with all stars- virat , dhoni, raina, bhajji, ashwin but I

approached no one,I acknowledged none and I dint deviate from my mission. It

was an L-shaped room, I was walking on the longer leg and had to turn right.

The moments passed very slowly & I was absorbing every second and continuing

my slow walk in the right middle of the room. I was trying to follow Mr. khurrana

and hoped ! that he would take me where I intend to park my respect.

Sudama has reached lord’s palace & he is now looking for krishna! But where is he?where is krishna? I couldn’t see him??

50

I turned rightwards in that L-Shaped corner and There ! at the end of the shorter

edge, sat in the right middle, living flesh and embodying cricket,

Dad! I See Him!!-

That is, Sachin Ramesh Tendulkar, sitting on that sofa.

I don’t know how to express it neatly-“meri aatma nikal ke bahar aa gayi”.

(My soul came out of my body! )

I felt so common & my ego completely evaporated to the point zero. It vanished

out of my bones, out of my skin and I stood there in complete innocence. I had

tears in my eyes, my skin was radiating with a feeling of incredibility!

My eyes lit like they saw god incarnated as a beautiful man- so serene, so silent

and so placid in his aura and with humbling mortal presence. It was the moment-

so divine, so electrifying, so pure and sacred , but very-very bone-chilling!

51

I stood about 10 –feet from the greatest sportsman ever born. I stood so close to the

most decorated cricketer. I stood within my mortal reach, from most worshipped

man in India. I felt so lucky to be standing in front of the living legend. I felt I

achieved salvation at that very moment. If there is anything close to experiencing it

and anything that qualifies salvation from mortal flesh.

‘It was a die heart fan standing in front of Sachin Tendulkar’

It was the most humbling experience at that second. I transformed into an eight

year old kid , looking for so many answers from past two decades of life as a fan.

If my calculation was correct. I had walked approximately 22 yards towards the

master from the entrance. In those 22 yards, I under-went such an incredible

transformation in psyche, in mental state, & emotional thrust. There was a tornado

of wind that surrounded master & it allowed me inside but only with my most

humbling & gratitudinous presence.

So, I followed the manager’s indication, who now rested in a position, standing

diagonally from Sachin. I walked closer and he said softly-

-“yahin se khade hoke baat karo”

(stand here and talk)

Me- “okay (I nodded)”

I was under pure numbness and got stumbled at the sight of Sachin, just four feet

away from me. I took one more step and made my stance, just next to his

legendary kitbag.

(it’s a big cuboidal,black iron box that he’s been using since the beginning).

Master was sitting on the black sofa, wearing blue Sahara T-shirt & shorts. He was

busy talking on phone about his travel itinerary.

Me-“hello sir!” (softest and humblest voice ever!! )

Sachin- “…….” (no response)

52

I looked back at the manager, like a nervous little kid with an expression that

meant, ‘ he dint hear me sir!’. One more second of silence and my confidence was shrinking exponentially.

My lips were getting sewed and the image of the man in front, was taking over my

pro-activity.

This pro-activity had been splendid so far in reaching to him, right from the club

house stand to his kitbag. I had beaten all the devils and dodged all the dragons & I

had reached the Kohinoor Diamond, as my fan reward. However, It looked so

tough to proceed further, just like the morning session on the Durban wicket.

Manager (smiled)- “ruk jaao, baat kar re hein, ek min baad phir se kehna..”

(wait, he is taking, speak again after a minute)

I nodded to his advice, he was my only help-book around the situation.

Meanwhile, I noticed that Sachin was using his left hand to talk on his phone.

Suddenly, that newspaper cutting flashed past my eyes, that I kept so safely in my

goodies box as a kid. It read-

‘Sachin Tendulkar is left-handed’ (news title).

I had a momentary sanguine smile to my visual conformity of that article, it was

read so long ago!. Then further , I looped into another snippet of memory. I

recalled that people who can efficiently use both left & right hands are ambi-

dexterous. They have rock solid concentration & they can do trickiest, dauntest and

most perplexing tasks with a great ease. However, such people focus so well and

get completely into the little things they do, no matter how trivial it seems to the

other-

like making a phone call or even booking their itinerary!. So I guessed that he was

rightly and sincerely focused on his current task.

While Sachin was busy with his phone call. Another man sat to his left, Ravindra

Jadeja. He was silently noticing all this & smiling. I noticed him after a few

minutes & nodded with acknowledgement, I lipsed ‘hello sir’. He nodded & smiled. His faint smile conveyed a message, that he understood my situation &

nervousness .he was enjoying his spectatorship to this curious fan show.

53

While I stood there, backed off on first greeting. I stood there holding my SG

cricket hat in left hand,(given by Aadish). I had my green file & my poster in right

hand. A realization struck me. It was a touch & go moment, I had to make the most

of it.

Previously, I was thinking of a million permutations of what I will say to Sachin &

I will ask for at-least his email ID if not his phone no!!. , just to wish him on his

Birthday once a year & I will pour out all I feel In my heart. It was a thought out

plan and a passionate one.

I felt really determined to be extrovert!, to be little loud! & try my best to

overcome my anxiety & speak to him all I can,

though I realized that everyone around was watching me. I had come inside only to

meet sachin , not because I don’t respect others but I have followed Sachin like a

die heart fan. I would want to keep this memory –pure & isolated. It would be just

me & Sachin, talking to each other even if for few minutes. I took a deep breath &

shook away all the torrent & tornadoes.

I felt the superpower of a true fan & I got my confidence back like a robot gets

rebooted with funny electronic sounds!

54

55

Sachin was done with his phone call. He sat there keeping one leg on the other &

gazing into his phone. I broke the silence-

I dint care if anyone was listening into it. It was my moment & my turn to speak to

Sachin.

Me- “hello sir!” (loud and clear, with confidence) (I smiled)

-“I have been waiting for two hours to meet you”

(I nodded and tried to smile but my eyes were giving it away, I was completely

awestruck!!)

Sachin- (sitting legs crossed, now looked up at me)

-“oh! Hello!”

Now, the great thing to notice & something that made me tearful was his humility.

The man stood up from his seat & greeted my left hand extended towards his. He

greeted it with his left hand and shook it hard & sportingly, like meeting an equal.

This one gesture of Sachin, epitomizes why he is such a great-great man. People

who make others feel great about themselves are truly large-hearted, kind

,wonderful & deserving of title ‘Great’ human beings. Sachin is great in his conduct as a person. It reflects so beautifully in little things

he does, even though he speaks only when needed ( like all intelligent beings do! )

or acts only what is necessary to drive a situation, but it says everything about him,

doesn’t it?

With that one shake hand!, I was deeply touched in heart. I felt so grateful to be

treated like that, I was sold! as a fan forever. I was simply a commoner in the court

of Alexander & he got up from his throne & greeted me like we were old friends,

smiling and meeting after two decades.

He stands five feet five/six inches and I stand merely 2 inches more. So we stood

equal in physical height (Its so important to write physical here! Lol! )

He has curly hair, his hands are big & strong, like those ‘pahadi’ built fellows. He faintly resembles another legend in appearance, ‘Maradona’ . His persona and aura literally radiates simplicity. It seems so pure and so divine, to

a common individual standing next to him.

56

He sits like a king but with the attitude of most humbling & grounding nature. He

is everything the poem ‘If’ by Rudyard Kipling describes.

Snippets that fit him perfectly-

“If you can keep your head when all about you.. If you can trust yourself when all men doubt you,

& lose & start again at your beginnings,

& neither breathe a word about your loss..

If you can talk with crowds & keep your virtue,

Or walk with kings nor loose the common touch,

Yours’ is the earth & everything in it’.

And truly spoken by a great-poet ,so long ago. His is the earth & everything in it.

There stood a man in front of me who had turned that ‘man in the poem’ to reality.

I entered the place with analogy of ‘sudama meeting lord krishna’& that one

gesture made me feel like a king in front of the god king.

His voice brought such warmth & magnetic effects in the commonest of dialogues

he spoke. His eyes had a glint of ambers filled with heavenly flames , startling with

sparks of positivity and wisdom for our world.

If he speaks in the most common tone, the receiving end- either a man or a group

or a crowd , shall be definitely commanded!

His voice is binding, it has such splendid gravity & I was simply spellbound to

every word that fell from cloud 9!

Sachin(smiled & shook hands) –“oh! Thank you so much..”

Sachin (directing his attention to my articles)

-“did you bring something to get autographed with you”

Me- “yes sir! This is a poster of yours with the world cup”

Sachin- “do you have a pen or a marker”

Me- “sir! I had one but the security dint let it pass” (I tried to smile)

Sachin (looked up and around the hall, said softly)

-“does anyone has a marker”

57

Four-five people moved in running & a marker appeared in a blink.

58

He took the marker & signed my poster

‘(Best wishes, Tendulkar..)’

Meanwhile, Mr. khurrana (the only good-man pro-active in this numb-ing

situation!) tried to get me into the frame with sachin for few pictures and I just

tried to follow though not much. I was too numbed to make my own decisions.

Sachin then again started talking on the phone & I waited for him to finish. Then

again he turned around, took the hat & signed it.

Then he looked at me with his signature focused look and tried to see in me, if I

had anything else to say to him.

Me(took a deep breath again)-

“Sir! I am completely spellbound & I am numbed to meet you, you have been my idol for past twenty years & I go to temple & pray for you every year on your

birthday”

Sachin (still & listening) – “Thank You..”

Me- “Sir! My whole family is into cricket, my father Mr. Yogesh Mishra has

captained and played for U.P. , my brother Ashish Mishra has played for u.p. state

team, my uncle mr. Ashok Mishra has too played ranji. My brother Aditya Mishra

is vice-captaining U.S.A. t-20 cricket team. He has represented from Bangalore in

Ranji too”

Sachin (he was little attentive & smiled) – “oh ! okay.. yes.. (he acknowledged with a nod)

For a moment it hit me. Vishu! To whom! Are you telling all this-

my uncle,my dad, my brother played for this & that! LOL! You are talking to Mr.

Cricket himself!!

.Although other part of my brain knew I was simply trying to make a good

connection.

59

Sachin turned around again and looked at me, got into attentive mode again-

Me- “sir! Though I couldn’t become a cricketer but I am passionate about writing

& I have been writing poetry for past 10 years & this is a collection of best of my

poems & I would be highly grateful if you would accept it. This is the best gift I

can give you.”

Sachin : (he said nothing but acknowledged the look in my eyes & I wasn’t in a position to take them back. I was trying very hard to convey myself. It was

dialogue between two introverts, one was speaking because it was his only chance

in this life and other was speaking because he couldn’t do away with a die heart

fan so simply and was acknowledging with all his humility)

:he accepted with both hands.

Me( feeling wonderful) : “ thank you so much sir…”

Me- “sir! I had even written a poem for you in Hindi but I couldn’t copy it into word file. I don’t know if you will get time but I wrote my blog address here..”

( I started fluttering pages nervously)

Me (unable to find it) – “it’s here somewhere.. (I was searching with all adrenalin

and moving my head left and right, like answering the passing mark question in a

final engineering exam!! )

I got panicky and I was very nervous.

He saw, that I was very nervous & stuttering with my words, even my hands were

shaking and trembling. So, he started looking for it too , with me in that green file.

Me- “sorry sir! It’s just.. I’m very nervous” (I tried to faintly smile)

But he was concentrating on finding that page in that green colored stick file. He

saw that I was unable to do so and like the ‘story of his life’, he took the

responsibility with sincerity and started doing it on his own!

Me( Eureka! Eureka! LOL!)- Here it is sir! (pheww.. ).. here’s my email, my blog

60

address & the category & name of the poem on my blog”

-“I dunno when will you have time but if you can please see..”

Sachin(looking at those addresses he nodded) - “ oh! Ya.. hmm.. okay”

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Vishu Mishra! You idiot! What are you doing! And why are you talking to him

like a moron! You’re giving him details to follow it and read it on your stupid-

blog page! Really ???

(anyways! shaking that off)

Me- “Sir! Today is the greatest day of my life & I cudn’t wish for a better gift this

year for my birthday, which in two days on 26th”

Sachin(tinge of smile)- “wishing you a very happy birthday, congratulations..”

Me- “thank you”

(I smiled)

I Now rather change my birthday from 26th

to 24th

.I thought.

He smiled and I smiled-

Me (just leaving) –“sir! Can I please touch your feet”

Sachin (looked at me) – “ No! only your parents” (he gave a smile with a meld of

intelligence and laconic wisdom)

Me : (I nodded &I knew that it was a great lesson in few words, it had a lot of

depth)

me- “okay.. thank you.. (I smiled )

I was there standing around15 -20 minutes with the Great Sachin Tendulkar. It was

5:20 pm in the evening. I broke my stance next to his kitbag, bid him good-bye

with the most humbling nod to the master and then broke away my stance,

everything away from this moment onwards, shall be lesser in life!

62

-P.S. – (POST SACHIN TENDULKAR IN THIS WRITE UP )

I turned to manager & said a word of thanks, after all! it was his outstanding efforts

that made this moment possible –a die heart fan meeting his living legend. He

smiled and intimated that he will transfer the pics to Mr.Pankaj but I just

simulated. I was too numbed to feel anything else, Sachin’s aura had touched me so greatly, his personality was so royal. He imbibes & resonates the superiority of

a great soul.

I asked the manager-

Me :- “sir! Ab mein jaun kahan se! (Sir! Where should I leave from)

{feeling dumbed & still in moment’s trance }

..security rokegi.. I don’t have pass” (security will stop me.. I don’t have pass) [I still had that, wing- pass trauma lol! ]

Manager (smiled & humbled me) – “ yahan se utaro! Grand stairs se!” (get down from here, from the grand staircase)

Me (shaking hands) –“okay! Thank you so much”

I left straight from the door behind. I strided down & there stood a mass of

policemen joining hands to protect the players from general public & media havoc

from barging into the pathway- with their flashes of hundreds of cameras, which

were out on head-tops.

However, they all were pretty dumb struck looking at an unknown face getting

down all merry- hearty from the grand staircase. The policemen were forming a

barricade in front of the media and they looked at me as if I belonged to the team-

bus. It stood shining next to the chaotic media hurdle.

Me (to policeman) :- “Sir! Mein bus mein ni jaa raa hunn, mujhe bahar jaana hai”

(Sir! I am not going in the bus, I want to go out)

Policeman : - “aa jao ji! Idhar se.. aane do sir ko!”

(come from here.. let sir pass! )

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I was thinking “haina saale!! Abb ‘sir’ hogaya??!! :D

Then I went to another security personnel-

Me(enquiring)- “sir! Where should I leave from..”

He directed me to the out gates. I left but I was alone & I was in complete utter

silence for next fifteen to twenty minutes. I was overwhelmed with emotions, my

soul was levitating in the fourth dimension & my memories & thoughts were all

doing moment chasing with Sachin.

I was so bloody knocked out of active conscience that I walked into the wrong

security zones! Twice! Before moving out of the ‘actual !!’- ‘Out Gate’.

I took an auto and reached pragati maidaan metro station. A thought hit me again-

‘ I have met my idol, my greatest hero of childhood, this is one of the greatest

moments of lifetime. Meeting sachin ramesh tendulkar.

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Things that followed-

1. I sat in metro looking at my left hand for a long-long time, with which I

shook hands with the master blaster.

2. I reached home, rescuing the poster & hat from Holi chaos in Patel Nagar&

narrated the story to mom & dad. My mom felt happiest on ‘touching only

your parents feet’ dialogue by Sachin.

3. I called Aadish & earth moved beneath his shoes when he found out what he

missed! but I convinced him that it was all too spectacular & destined. So,

it’s not written for him & neither he will get the hat ( :D ) because I earned

it! by staying back & trying for it!. He understood and took it very

sportingly. It’s not easy to take something like that so sportingly but he did

it! and I appreciated a lot for his spirit.

4. I called & thanked Mr. Pankaj Bharadwaj right-away when I reached home.

Mr. Bharadwaj who in turn felt very happy for me & un-veiled that even his

kids haven’t had the chance to meet the master yet and I was really lucky

today.

5. I had to narrate & re-narrate & re-re-narrate it to so many people, so many

times that at a point I decided to record it & make it viral on watsapp,

facebook & soundcloud.

6. It was hard to explain to non-cricketing background fans , of why I dint meet

anyone else in the dressing room. I couldn’t satiate with my explanations and clarifications but only sift people :

those who are moved by stardom & materialism &then are those moved with

art.

Sachin is an artist & I am moved by art & I follow one man & never desired

anyone else’s dialogues or autographs.period.

link to Hindi poem I couldn’t keep in that file but wrote the address

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=>

http://theoutofbusiness.wordpress.com/2012/08/19/%E0%A4%AE%E0%A5

%88%E0%A4%82-

%E0%A4%85%E0%A4%95%E0%A5%87%E0%A4%B2%E0%A4%BE-

%E0%A4%AF%E0%A4%B9%E0%A4%BE%E0%A4%81-

%E0%A4%9A%E0%A4%B2%E0%A4%A4%E0%A4%BE-

%E0%A4%B9%E0%A5%82%E0%A4%81/

Few dialogues by people on the story-

1 Photographer who framed it said- “arrey! Badiya banda hai! Sachin

toh ekdum sona hai! Asli cricketer”

2 My Dad- “arrey waah! Yug-purush hai! Ye toh ek achievement hai

life ka! sachin se milna”

3 My mom( without her glasses) – “ye ladka kaun hai photo mein! Tera

dost hai! Arey yehi sachin hai kya?!’

4 My brother (aditya mishra) – “he is a great example on how a sportsman should conduct himself, do send me photos”

5 Aadish(sheepishly &lightly)- “arey.. yaar woh.. hat de na!”

6 Kunal (my close friend) to aadish- “ great yaar! Vishu met sachin! So aadish! How was the exam.. distinction?!”

7 Surbhi kashyap (a filmy close friend, whom I narrated the story on

phone) – OH my Godd!! That’s a movie story! But..u shud have met all!! (she is the non-cricketing cricket fan,so its okay, her perspective)

8 Chinu sharma (childhood friend)- Sir! Aap sir se mill aaye!!

Sir! Sir! Sir! Sir! Sir! Power n times!! (along with sending me the

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police-officer emotion of watsapp)

I got photos almost after 2 months, on 11th

may 2013.It was because Mr. khurrana

went through some health problems. I expressed my deepest gratitude and best

wishes to Mr. Pankaj Bharadwaj for helping me fulfilling my fan dream. Meeting

sachin and talking to him, expressing my regards was the greatest high of my life

& I wasn’t heart wrecked over not getting photos for long but in the end I got all

them. I framed them well along with the poster & the hat.

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Ending note-

I dedicate this article to all die heart Sachin fans like myself . I must say that with

all this emotional angle and decades of following- It was really a tough ask to write

,rather I was reluctant but dint skip because I knew it was essential to put it into

words and seal it.

I was very heart broken when Sachin retired so early from ODI’s & then from

other formats as well. I wanted to tell him that I consider him a super athlete, a

man who creates his own horizons, a man who has shown people those ‘numbers’ that looked like a myth, a man who has broken all barriers to turn things to

possibilities.

To me, Sachin is like the fondest underdog movie story & rise of a hero like ‘rocky balboa series’. He is the real life rocky who has burned and risen to destiny so many times in his long enduring career. He is divine and distinct like Michael

Jackson, his straight drive is unique like Michael Jackson’s moonwalk. Many can moonwalk on stage and many can straight drive in cricketing world but when the

originals do it! Aah! Its such a different thing altogether!

Sachin is like the undisputed king of his ring, like Muhammad Ali.

He is the greatest sportsman ever born. He has taken toll of 125 Crore people ,day

in and day out & he has delivered. He has withered in his mind & his body under

their daunting expectations. He has stood like a humble knight to all blatant and

crass critical commentary ,all hatred of Anti-Sachin emotion. He has taken such

killing pressure and still he ran like the fastest Durby horse in all races.

If a 100 year old Fauja Singh can run a marathon. If 45-50 year old men can build

themselves and participate in body-building competitions, participate in rugby &

football. Why not Sachin?

Why? The greatest prodigy of cricket, cannot make a comeback into cricket.

I really think he can & I will always fond that comeback.

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I would like to Thank Mr.Pankaj Bhardwaj and the Generous Manager Mr.

S.S. Khurrana for everything they did for me.

I would like to carry on and pass this message to all his fans and believers in

Sachin that if a man who has reached the pinnacle of destiny and fame, can be so

humble and devoid of any ego, then why can’t we?

.So, I was influenced and decided that I shall be humble and without ego wherever

shall I reach in my life. I hope all readers must understand my eloquent appeal.

It’s most important to be a good behaving person in life. That’s all that will matter and shall be remembered, long after you’re gone.

At last, I wish sachin tendulkar, a very Happy Birthday in the year of 2014

and put this narration as a conveyance of my best & warmest wishes to him

and his family.

I hope he reads this, I hope he reads that Hindi poem. I hope I could meet him

again and touch his feet this time, I may not ask for permission this time and

steal that away

I dedicate this to all his die heart fans who have followed him, who have

prayed day in and out & those who have dreamt – of Meeting Sachin Ramesh Tendulkar.

God bless you Sachin

Godspeed.

Best Regards

Your greatest Well Wisher & eternal follower.

Love you Sachin.

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-from A loving, Die heart & your greatest fan-forever.

Vishu Mishra

24-04-2014

Email :vishu.mishra88@gmail.com

Blog: www.theoutofbusiness.wordpress.com

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Happy Birthday Sachin, Best wishes from

Vishu Mishra

Hope We Meet again!

Till then, Good luck for non-cricketing fun.

GODSPEED!

AMEN.