Playing It My Way: My Autobiography

by Sachin Tendulkar

  Such intrusion meant that Anjali and I could hardly meet in public and after our second meeting we weren’t in touch at all for a period of six months. I was away on tours, while Anjali was busy preparing for her medical finals. I knew how hard she had worked and was sure she’d do well in the exam. On the day of the exam I rang her from Australia very early in the morning to wish her luck. I must say I was delighted to hear her voice after so long. She was panicking and was worried that she’d fail the exam. Knowing that was impossible, I said to her that if she failed the examination, so would everyone else in Mumbai. She had always come top and there was no way it would be different this time round. I also said that the number of hours she studied in a day equalled the total number of hours I used to study in a whole month! It was only much later that she told me that my call made a big difference to her. She felt I must have really cared to have called from Australia after six months. It was far more than care, as far as I was concerned.

  As expected, she topped the examination and wanted to go ahead with pursuing an MD in paediatrics. I was extremely proud of her achievement and encouraged her to do so, which resulted in her getting posted to a hospital at Palghar, on the outskirts of Mumbai, as an intern. Luckily for us both, her friend Mufi was also posted in the same hospital. Palghar was such a small town that Anjali had to take a train to Boisar, some twenty minutes away, to find a phone to call me, and Mufi was her partner during these trips.

  It was while studying for the MD that she began to take more of an interest in cricket. We had started talking about the game on the phone and she even bought a book of rules. Often she’d come up with questions like: where’s cow corner, or is the wicketkeeper right- or left-handed? But she picked up the game quickly and I would ask her questions from time to time to keep her interest going. The first tournament she watched on television was the 1992 World Cup and she was heartbroken to see me get out cheaply against the West Indies after I had edged a ball from Curtly Ambrose. So much so that Mufi had to console her, saying the ball was so good that others wouldn’t have come near it and it was because of my exceptional batting prowess that I had managed to somehow get an edge. If only that were the truth!

  In the absence of mobile phones and text messages at the time, Anjali and I wrote a series of letters to each other. Because I was not stationed in a particular city for more than a few days when on tour, Anjali would have to work out where I would be in two or three weeks’ time and post the letters accordingly. These letters remain prized possessions and when I look at them again one thing that stands out is Anjali’s handwriting. Compared to mine, hers was wonderful to look at. I also have to confess that writing did not come naturally to me. I would often take a very long time thinking through each word that I would write for my beloved.

  After coming back from the World Cup in March 1992, I visited Anjali in her family’s house for the first time. Once again Mufi played a crucial role. Anjali’s parents were told that it was our first meeting and that Mufi had orchestrated the visit. It was carefully stage-managed and was quite a performance. In fact, it was only after we decided to get engaged that we told her parents the real story. I must say I was extremely thankful to Mufi for all the help.

  We weren’t comfortable with the fact that the relationship was still a secret and decided it was time we let our families know that we were serious about each other. So I asked my childhood friend Sunil Harshe to arrange for Ajit and Anjali to meet, and the three of them got together at the Willingdon Club in South Mumbai. Waiting at home, I was anxious the whole time the meeting was on. It wasn’t that I was looking for approval as such from Ajit, but it meant a lot to me to see my friends and family like Anjali as much as I did. I remember waiting for what seemed like an age, but when I finally saw Sunil and Ajit coming back, Sunil, who was walking one step behind Ajit, gave me a quick thumbs up to indicate the meeting had gone well. I was delighted to know that Ajit too thought Anjali was the right person for me.

  All this time Anjali’s interest in cricket was growing and by the time I went to New Zealand in 1994 she had a grasp of the nuances of the game. It was the series in which I started opening the batting for India in one-day cricket. I was delighted with my new role and was happy to be able to share my sentiments with Anjali when I spoke to her from New Zealand.

  By the end of the New Zealand tour we had been seeing each other for four years and it was time to move on to the next stage of the relationship. It was during one of our numerous phone conversations from New Zealand that Anjali broached the subject of engagement and I immediately took her up on the suggestion. I told her that I was ready to get engaged whenever she was but it would be better if she could speak to both of our parents on my behalf – talking was never my strong point. She was hesitant at first but it was a great relief to me when she reluctantly agreed to take on the responsibility, as I would not have felt comfortable discussing the engagement with my father. Not that my father would not have agreed – I was absolutely certain he would – it was just that I felt slightly embarrassed at the thought of discussing my future wife with him.

  Anjali later told me that she too had initially felt self-conscious informing my parents that their son wanted to get engaged to her. But my parents knew me well enough to realize why she had ended up being the one to speak to them about it and all they wanted to know was if we both felt the same way about the engagement. They were in fact delighted with the decision. The same thing happened a year later, when it was Anjali who spoke to both families about our wedding plans. She has far better social skills than I do and I was once again relieved to see her take on the rather difficult task. I have no hesitation in acknowledging that she did a commendable job!

  Engagement and marriage

  We got engaged on 24 April 1994, which also happened to be my twenty-first birthday. The engagement party was a low-key affair with family and close friends and was held at Anjali’s family’s house at Warden Road, Breach Candy, in South Mumbai. It was an occasion of great significance in our lives and we will always remember the joy we felt. Our families were delighted at the union and it marked a whole new beginning for me. We finally tied the knot on 25 May 1995. Anjali Mehta had become Anjali Tendulkar and I entered a new phase in my life.

  Even before we got engaged, Anjali had mentioned to me that she wanted me to pursue my dream and was willing to give up her career for the family. This was a huge sacrifice. We were aware that it was impossible for us both to continue with our respective careers and that one of us needed to be at home to take charge of the house and family. To my relief, Anjali took over the home front, allowing me to continue with my cricket, and I will always appreciate the sacrifice she made very early in our lives.

  The wedding was a traditional affair and, as in most conventional Maharashtrian households, my mother gave Anjali the mangalsutra (a necklace worn by the wife to ensure her husband’s good health), sindoor (vermilion, the red powder worn as an auspicious mark by Indian married women), green bangles, anklets and a toe ring, which are all considered part of the wedding ritual. In fact, I remember her asking me if I wanted her to wear all or any of the things that my mother had given her. All I said was I wanted her to wear the mangalsutra, and to this day she has never taken it off.

  These adjustments, both in her professional and personal life, could not have been easy but she has never shown any resentment. This has not only added to my respect for Anjali but also meant I had actually found someone who I could love and depend on. I must confess it is not always in my nature to say what I feel, but there is no doubt how much I owe her. Funnily enough, I have never called her by her name. I haven’t ever said ‘Anjali’ or ‘Anja’ or any such thing while calling her. In all these years I have not been able to figure out how I should refer to her. Frankly, it doesn’t really matter, for that is how I am and, despite all my shortcomings, my wife has been with me every step of the way.

  At the beginning, ma
rriage did have one unfortunate side-effect, however. Marital bliss led me to relax my routine and the outcome was weight gain. I enjoyed myself thoroughly during our honeymoon and indulged my palate to a nicety. We had a few of our friends with us in Goa, where I was also playing a double-wicket tournament, and that added to the fun. Almost every day during the honeymoon I feasted on deliciously decadent desserts and other delicacies I normally kept away from during the playing season. There were plenty of chocolates and ice creams and such indulgence came at a price.

  When I returned to Mumbai I realized that I couldn’t get into any of my clothes. I had put on a few inches around the waist and it was time for some strict control on the culinary front. We weren’t playing a great deal of cricket in 1995 and that was another reason why I had let down my guard. So for twenty straight days after returning to Mumbai, I put myself on a diet of nothing but tea without sugar, boiled chana (chickpeas), oranges and sweet lime. I also started doing some rigorous exercise again to get back into shape. I used to run for an hour in the morning, followed by weight training, and played two hours of table-tennis every evening. And during the table-tennis sessions I’d go and fetch the ball from wherever it went. Even if I had played a smash and the ball had gone behind my opponent, I’d perform the chore myself, to get more exercise. The result was a weight loss of 10 kg in twenty days. But I had started to feel dizzy and weak and my trousers were now too loose, so I decided it was time to stop. The first meal I had after three weeks on the diet was boiled spinach and broccoli and after that I went back to eating normally.

  The perfect partner

  To come from such a different background and yet be able to integrate herself into the more traditional Tendulkar household speaks volumes for Anjali’s character and commitment. Frankly, no credit can be enough for her. She was an exceptional student and could have had an exceptional career. But she decided to stand by me and has been with me every moment over the past two decades and more. There have been occasions when I have been away from home and haven’t seen my kids, Sara and Arjun, for months. For example, soon after the 2011 World Cup I suddenly realized that I hadn’t noticed that Arjun was almost my height. (He is in fact taller than me now.) There is no doubt I have missed out on some really precious moments with my family. Such separations are part of a professional sportsman’s life, of course, but I was only able to get through them because I always knew Anjali was there.

  At the same time, I knew Anjali appreciated why I was away and was proud of what I was doing. She is the one person I can turn to at all times, for whatever she says is always in my best interests. Not only has she given me critical feedback on key decisions; she has taken care of everything on the domestic front. Starting with the kids, my mother, extended family, finances and a host of other issues, with Anjali in control I could focus on playing cricket. She is also my emotional rock, someone I turn to at every moment of self-doubt. There has never been any pressure on me to return home early from my engagements, for Anjali has always insisted that I should get back home only after I have finished work to my satisfaction. Of course I regret that I couldn’t spend more time with her and the kids during my cricket career, and I also appreciate more than I can say the understanding and support I have received from her and the children at all times. Finally, I have always cherished the advantages of having a doctor wife who has shielded me at times when I have been injured in the course of my career.

  6

  YEARS OF CONSOLIDATION

  In March 1992, after returning from the gruelling Australian tour and the World Cup, I badly needed a few weeks of relaxation. Our next international assignment was a tour of South Africa towards the end of the year and we had several months off in the interim. Fortunately for me, I managed to spend the first few days at home. I played tennis-ball cricket with friends and it was terrific to be able to unwind in familiar surroundings.

  I was playing downstairs with my friends one day when Ajit called down from our apartment balcony to say that there was a phone call from Yorkshire County Cricket Club and that they wanted me to play for them! I came up to take the call and was very excited at the offer. I did not bother asking about the contract and other details and was determined to make the most of this opportunity to play in the County Championship in England. That I would have to cook, do my laundry, drive and perform all the other household chores never occurred to me at the time. A few days after the conversation, the CEO of Yorkshire CCC, Chris Hassell, came over to India to complete the formalities. We met at Thane, a suburb of Mumbai, where I was playing a match. I signed the contract at the ground, proud to become Yorkshire’s first overseas-born player in 128 years.

  A Yorkshire lad

  I left for England towards the end of April 1992, right after my nineteenth birthday, and stayed there for three and a half months. It was my first long stint away from home on my own and it wasn’t easy coming from such a different cultural background, but the generosity and openness of my employers made the stay immensely enriching and it was a great learning experience, to put it mildly.

  One of the first problems was that I had little idea of the roads and had to follow my team-mate Richard Blakey as he drove to the ground. I was not really used to driving in England and often opted for the fastest lane while driving to the ground. There were occasions when I missed an exit and also lost Richard in the process. It was difficult to turn back and I cursed myself for not staying in the slowest lane, where it would have been easier to see the exit. There were no mobile phones then and getting lost meant I would be late for practice, which I hated.

  I had actually driven a little in England in 1991 when I was there to play a few games of league cricket. Back then I stayed with the former India fast bowler Atul Wassan and he was generous enough to give me his car to drive around. He asked me if I had driven before and I assured him that I had passed all the tests and had an international licence and was confident of my driving skills. He said the key to driving in the UK was not to use the brake much and just to follow the lanes. However, the very first day ended in disaster. I was in the fast lane when all of a sudden the car came to a halt. There was no power and the car would not restart, and I panicked when I saw a string of cars behind me. I told Atul, ‘Gadi start nahi ho raha hai yaar!’ (The car is not starting, my friend!) Atul initially thought I was joking and asked me to accelerate. Anxious, I said to him that I was trying to, but there was no power and nothing was working. Only then did we realize that we had run out of fuel. Atul immediately asked me to put on the hazard lights and in my state of nervousness it took me ages to find the switch in the unfamiliar car. Finally, Atul put on the hazard lights for me. Somehow we got the car onto the hard shoulder, then we called the AA and after a while a breakdown vehicle arrived.

  Another problem was my complete lack of knowledge of English geography, which caused a number of blunders during my stay in Yorkshire. Some of these I now remember with fondness. One such was to commit myself to playing at opposite ends of the country on consecutive days. I had agreed to play in an India–Pakistan festival match in London but had also committed to playing for a Rest of the World XI versus England at Newcastle the following day. To add to my woes, the India–Pakistan match started at 6 p.m. and finished close to midnight. I had driven from Yorkshire to London for the early-evening start and by the time the match was over I was exhausted.

  Afterwards the other players were heading back to the hotel in London to relax and they asked me to join them. When I said I had to leave for Newcastle because I was playing there the next day I could see the shock and bewilderment on their faces. I had wrongly believed that it was easy to get from any part of England to another in two or three hours. It was only when they told me that it would take a minimum of six or seven hours to drive there that I realized the seriousness of the situation. I was advised to leave for Newcastle straight away. I was stumped. I had left Yorkshire at one o’clock that afternoon to get down to Lond
on, and here I was at midnight getting ready to drive all the way to Newcastle.

  Jatin Paranjpe was with me at the time and we set off on the long drive together. Unfortunately, we had little knowledge of the roads and were completely dependent on the signs. To add to our misery, we missed a turn and ended up going south for close to thirty-five minutes when we should have been driving north. It was just one of those nights.

  After driving for a couple of hours, my eyes started to give way. I asked Jatin to drive while I napped to regain a bit of energy. Jatin did so and after a few minutes I took my turn in the driver’s seat again. A coffee break helped and eventually we reached the hotel at 8.15 a.m., only to see the team bus about to leave for the ground. We were both pretty much out of it by then and desperately needed to close our eyes. I walked up to the team manager and explained to him my plight and asked if he could possibly let me have twenty-five minutes of sleep. I promised to join the team at the ground in an hour. He was most kind and I set the alarm at exactly twenty-five minutes.

  When I woke up I didn’t know where I was and felt like a complete zombie. I stumbled out of the hotel and made my way to the ground. I was sleepy and tired and was in no physical state to play a day’s cricket. I still find it hard to believe, but somehow I managed to go out and make a hundred. After lunch, however, I could hardly stay awake and for the first time in my life I was taking ten-second naps between overs. I was actually sleeping while fielding and don’t really know how I managed to get through the rest of the game.

  As soon as the match was over Jatin and I rushed to the hotel. Our plan was to sleep for a couple of hours before joining the rest of the team for dinner. The next thing I remember is waking up in the early hours of the morning. My first thought was that I had missed dinner. We tried calling room service but no one picked up the call. We called Reception and were told that at that hour they couldn’t serve us any food. With no hope of food, we drank three glasses of water each and went back to bed, setting the alarm for 7 a.m., in plenty of time for breakfast. We did manage to get up in time for breakfast and after eating a hearty meal of eggs and toast went to the ground to resume duty for the Rest of the World XI. For all the exhaustion, I still managed to score some runs and must say that, amidst all the chaos, the only thing that was going right was my batting.