The
ball turned, bounced, clipped the top of the pads and went to the slips. The
fielder caught it and the entire fielding team-including the substitutes
sitting inside the pavilion appealed for the ‘catch’. The umpire raised his
finger. The batsman, on 96 had to go. Without any protest, with a wry smile
adorning his face, he walked. An era came to an end.
This
happened on the 17th of March 1987. The batsman under reference is
Sunil Manohar Gavaskar, who was also called as the ‘Run machine’.
Exactly
25 years after this, on the 16th of March 2012, an Indian batsman
scored his 100th 100 in International Cricket. His name is Sachin
Ramesh Tendulkar.
Though
both belonged to two different eras, the similarities between the two are
striking.
Both
are short and are (were) called as ‘Little Masters’.
Records
tumbled almost every time they batted.
Both
were the scourge of the opposition bowlers- who were shivering in their shoes
just at the sight of these two taking guard.
The
senior’s last innings was against Pakistan while his debut was against the West
Indies. The younger one’s debut was against Pakistan and his last innings
against the West Indies.
If
only we choose to observe closely, we will know that there is always a link
between different things in the world and that everything happens with a
purpose.
In
this case, it looked as though it was a Divine wish that Indian Cricket be
bestowed with geniuses.
Though
comparisons are odious and serve no purpose, it must be accepted that the
younger one, achieved much more than what the senior achieved.
Leave
alone the records. Consider the batting style. The younger one had an attacking
style going after the bowling with will and had a near-perfect technique too while
the senior was an epitome of patience and perseverance with a very solid
defence.
Much
has of course been written about Sachin Tendulkar in the last one month or so
and therefore I am not going to say anything more. All I can say is that he was
an artiste of a totally different kind and watching him play was like listening
to great music or watching a beautiful performance of classical dance.
Whether
it was the sand storm innings or the knock fighting a severe back pain or the
literal massacre of the world renowned leg spinner or the blitzkrieg against
world’s fastest bowlers, Sachin has been a the connoisseurs’ delight and the darling of
the masses. This feature alone makes him one of the greatest cricketers the
world has seen.
No
doubt he had the natural ability but what set him are his hard work, and a
willingness to always learn. That is why it pains whenever I see the word ‘God
of cricket’ for if at all he is God, then does it not take away all the credit? Will it
be a surprise if God ‘performs’ well? After all, that is what he is expected to
do.
Sachin
Tendulkar is a man in flesh and blood just like you and me. Only difference is
he is a genius par excellence.
By
the same reasoning, ILaiyaraaja is not (in fact no human is) God of Music. He
is a man, who despite his humble upbringing and background rose to the pinnacle
by sheer hard work and perseverance.
Their
rare genius maybe because of the ‘puNyaa’
of previous births but their greatness lies in the fact that they never rested
on their laurels. That is why they are Maestros in their own way.
It
will be not out of place to dedicate a song of the music Maestro to the other
Maestro. The rare gem of today, Ponvaanile from Anbin Mugavari(1985) maybe a love duet but the wordings surely suit
the genius and the very different tune and interludes are the musical
expressions of his batting.
The
song starts with the soft but dynamic guitar followed by the keys, the solo
violin, the whistle, keys. A beautiful stroke on the offside with the strings
pulling it to the fence..
The
Pallavi in the voices of SPB and Suseela is a wristy flick to the legside with
the ball travelling in ‘ta ka dhi mi ta ka’.
The
guitar in the first interlude is a lofted drive while the violin is a straight
drive with a still head. We see the neat, clean and a mesmerising cover drive
in the piped instrument even as the drums change the pattern sounding ‘ta ki ta’
8 times. The perfect square cut is on view as the strings ooze with melody.
The
first part of the CharaNam interspersed with the flute is a wonderful on drive
and the next part is a gentle push to the off side.
The
second interlude makes us see the upper cut and the hook (strings), subtle and
gentle off drive(guitar and piano), reverse sweep( solo violin), perfect
defensive stroke( violin plus piano) and cheeky singles( piano keys).
The
different pieces of violins in between the lines as the Pallavi is rendered in
the end are innovative strokes possible only by Maestros- one a Cricketer and
the other a Musician!
