Let’s begin with a thank you Mr Sachin Tendulkar! There comes a time when individuals have to perform that last job; write that last piece; say their last words; or pick up that bat for the last play. It is inevitable. But your last moment got me thinking of the time spent watching and knowing you when you were young. The first time I met you, you were a mere school student of 14, and there you were sitting cross-legged near Shivaji Stadium with a stern Achrekar Sir looking at me and judging me on whether I was “spoiling” you with too much attention.
The first time I met Tendulkar, I was there to write an article for Sportsworld; about the greatest school boy cricketer. I remember before the meeting, Ajit (Tendulkar’s brother), the unsung hero, gave me a cyclo-style sheet with a small introduction. It carried the cricket scores of Shri Sachin Tendulkar. That year he had scored a 5,028—I remember well. I still have that cyclostyled sheet of paper. I also remember Ajit giving me some of Sachin’s photographs. Sportsworld gave me `200 for the photographs as they were not mine.
On that day, I saw Tendulkar bat very briefly at the Wankhede Stadium. It was a Ranji match against Delhi. Tendulkar was barely a teen and boy! He was having fun!
The day I really saw Tendulkar in his true form was when he played for the Irani Trophy. By then he had already played cricket for an year. Despite his scores, Tendulkar had not been picked for the 1989 team which was slated to go to the West Indies. Tendulkar expressed his disappointment. Had he been there he would have faced an attack from stalwarts such Ambrose, Walsh, Anderson, Bishop and Marshal. Someone asked Tendulkar, but aren’t you afraid? What if you got hurt? Tendulkar said, I would learn if I did. He wanted to play—he wanted to learn at any cost. By the time Tendulkar had made his tonne in the Ranji, Dillip and Irani—and on the day he made his 100 in the Irani Trophy—that evening he got selected to play his first match against Pakistan.
For a 16-year-old it is a meteoric rise. When he was about to be officially selected, a debate raged within the official circles on whether Tendulkar should be picked. When the topic cropped up, Raj Singh, the chairperson of the board of selectors and a genuine cricket lover, asked Naren Tamhane about Tendulkar’s prowess and capacity. What if he fails? He asked.
confidently Tamhane said, Sacin never fails. So much confidence in a 16 year old who had just a year of playing cricket. That was the kind of buzz around Tendulkar in 1989.
By 1996, Tendulkar was embarking on a new phase in his career. Between 1996 to 2003, one could say, Tendulkar took batsmanship to an entire new level. That was when—if you were watching him—there would always be a little quiver in your voice, a slight tingle in your hands, when he went up to bat. You would think what is this little man going to do today to stun us? In those days, Tendulkar wasn’t the scientific batsman with his perfect slog here or a nod there. In those days, it was a full on passion play for Tendulkar.
His demeanor seemed to say, “This is me, you all are wasting your time by trying to scare me as this is how I am going to play.” I am choosing this phase’s starting point in 1996 World Cup at Mumbai.
His innings at the match was breathtaking. But if you ask me what are the five most breathtaking tons that Tendulkar played, I would also mention Edgbaston—Tendulkar was blossoming, hitting shots everywhere. Then in 1997 in South Africa him and Azzaruhddin made 220 in 40 overs. In two years Tendulkar had the world at his feet.
Chennai was perhaps one of Tendulkar’s favourite batting ground. In 1989 at Chennai, Tendulkar was pitted against Shane Warne. He got out in the first innings bowled by Warne, caught by Taylor. In the second innings, he allegedly looked around and said, “You know someone has to make a really quick 80 to win us this game.” People asked, who? He simply said, me. Tendulkar went to the crease, Warne went round the wicket, Tendulkar played a slog over mid wicket and just redefining the series then and there. In 1991 game against Pakistan—Tendulkar played with a back spasm and against a fabulous Pakistani line up. But one should have seen how he was stroking the ball at the edge. Between the two Chennai innings, he gave his defining ODI phase in Sharjah. During the same phase he also made a tonne in Melbourne. His bat always spoke for him. The 2011 World Cup was one of his life’s highlights at the end of his career. If throughout his career there’s been one shot that I wished Tendulkar would play over and over is standing up and punching through the back foot—to me that was always a pleasure to watch. And his last two matches, he gave us so many reasons to cheer! —As told by Harsha Bhogle
The day that Raghuram Rajan, an economics professor who served as the chief economist at the International Monetary Fund (IMF), took charge of Reserve Bank of India (RBI) from former Governor D. Subbarao, he allegedly recited a poem by Rudyard Kipling. If by Kipling is about determination, to do “right” despite odds. To those who know him, his introductory speech did not seem odd. You see, Rajan, is a bit of a legend having predicted the 2008 economic meltdown three years before it struck the world. A graduate from IIT Delhi and a postgraduate from IIM Ahmedabad, the economist is also a prolific writer and has served a stint at the American Economic Review and the Journal of Finance as well. At 50, he is the second-youngest governor in RBI’s history (our present Prime Minister still remains the youngest governor).
But the timing of his appointment could not be more—to borrow a cricket parlance—“off”. India was failing to stabilise its financial markets, the Rupee was sliding against the Dollar, a deluge of negative factors were converging within the markets. The GDP growth in the first quarter of 2013 had slipped to 4.4 per cent the slowest pace of quarterly growth in four years. There was rising inflation; high consumer price inflation, and subdued factory output growth.
Despite the dismal economic weather, Rajan’s entry seemed to have a strange sunshine effect both on the market and on the common people. Investors cheered. In fact a popular writer and socialite in India, Ms Shobhaa De went to the extent of writing that the economist, “put the sex back in Sensex”. The effusive praise and the high expectations could be—should be—daunting. However, the governor, so far, seems unfazed. His approach was one of talking smaller steps and those closer home. His job at hand can be deduced to three simple steps; tame inflation, reduce interest rates and spur growth.
And so far he seems positive as is evident in one of his recent articles (yes, he is a prolific writer, did we mention?) he wrote, “...India can do better–much better. The path to a more open, competitive, efficient, and humane economy will surely be bumpy in Ahmedabadthe years to come. But, in the short term, there is much low-hanging fruit to be plucked. Stripping out both the euphoria and the despair from what is said about India—and from what we Indians say about ourselves—will probably bring us closer to the truth.” About the euphoria bit, strangely the governor himself made the comparison between cricket and economy when he said that Indian’s reaction to both was bi-polar.
In his article for project-syndicate.org titled The Case for India, Rajan writes, “Indian cricket fans are manic-depressive in their treatment of their favorite teams. They elevate players to god-like status when their team performs well, ignoring obvious weaknesses; but when it loses, as any team must, the fall is equally steep and every weakness is dissected. In fact, the team is never as good as fans make it out to be when it wins, nor as bad as it is made out to be when it loses. Its weaknesses existed in victory, too, but were overlooked. Such bipolar behavior seems to apply to assessments of India’s economy as well, with foreign analysts joining Indians in swings between over-exuberance and self-flagellation. A few years ago, India could do no wrong. Commentators talked of Chindia, elevating India’s performance to that of its northern neighbor. Today, India can do no right.”
Rajan sees the more immediate tasks (to help the economy recover) as more “mundane” and also more feasible: clearing projects, reducing poorly targeted subsidies, and finding more ways to narrow the current-account deficit and ease its financing. “Over the last year, the government has been pursuing this agenda, which is already showing some early results. For example, the external deficit is narrowing sharply on the back of higher exports and lower imports. Every small step helps, and the combination of small steps adds up to large strides. But, while the government certainly should have acted faster and earlier, the public mood is turning to depression amid a cacophony of criticism and self-doubt that has obscured the forward movement,” he said in a recent interview.
India does have some serious problems. Annual GDP growth has slowed significantly in the last quarter, consumer price inflation is indeed high, and the current-account and budget deficits last year were too large. Every commentator today highlights India’s poor infrastructure, excessive regulation, small manufacturing sector, and a workforce that lacks adequate education and skills. These are indeed deficiencies, and they must be addressed if India is to grow strongly. Given the challenges that our present strapping governor faces, his capacity to join the dots across both domestic and global economies will be put to test soon—if they have not been already. And only time will tell whether us Indians will truly see a Sachin in Rajan, our second hero.