My earliest memories of cricket and the resultant madness coincide with the beginning of an era called ‘Sachin Tendulkar’. It was an era bereft of many heroes. So, while my father started preparing me to be one, I, rather got hooked on to this man.
Cricket became an addiction. No, I wasn’t a great cricketer, but it didn’t matter at all as most of the times, I was ‘Sachin’ himself. Imagination used to be fierce and the pleasures, often vicarious. Imaginary matches, imaginary scoring, where the fours and sixes were hit with the innocence and alacrity of closing and opening of books and checking the page number. When every notebook would act as a bat and every swing of the arm a four or a six. When a continuous commentary used to run at the back of mind with Sachin scoring only fours and sixes and never getting out.
Sachin, you were a magic and a madness which was well worth all the man hours wasted, grade points suffered and the scoldings tolerated….for you were such a joy to see, dream, act and be. It is yet to be seen whether Sachin says the same to his, but he has earned it enough for me to tell my children and their’s, that I saw this phenomenon unveiled in my lifetime.
(Written on November 16, 2013, when Sachin Tendulkar retired from Test cricket)
Sarvjeet Soodan 
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