Zuri Café and Shaam Uncle

Posted: Thursday, February 2, 2023 by Kratik in
0

Some of y’all know how I would frequently tour the UK and watch football games and visit football clubs and cricket county teams. Through my tours and experiences, there are many relationships and friendships I have cultivated which are absolutely amazing. One such friendship is with Shaam uncle who owns Zuri Café in Wolverhampton.


It was first week of January 2019 and I had just watched Manchester United beat Newcastle United at St. James’ Park. I had then gone to Edinburgh and toured the highlands. On the way back to London from Scotland, I had an evening free and Wolverhampton was (kinda) on the way. I mean when you can cover the entire country from North to South in a matter of four hours, nothing is really too far (lol), but you get the point.

Liverpool were playing Wolves at Molineux in the FA Cup and I thought to myself, “Why not! So, I paid the annual membership (talk about a hack) for Wolves and bought a ticket. Then, I looked for the cheapest hotel room I could find and Britannia hotel it was. Priceline, baby!

I got down at the Wolverhampton train station, walked over to Britannia and guess what, it exactly reminded me of this hotel I had stayed at in Kolhapur, India. Oh Kolhapur, you taught me a thing a two and sometime I’ll write about my Kolhapur experience also but let's not go off topic. The elevator (lift, like the rest of the world calls it) did not work and I had to drag these two massive bags I was carrying from 'Merica up the stairs. The room had one twin bed, which was smaller than a US twin bed, and no windows. I mean, it was straight walls! I thought to myself, 'this is interesting'. I remember Clemson was playing Alabama in the national championship that same night and I knew no bars in Wolverhampton were going to be open for the game, so, I had to figure that out too.


It was around five in the evening and I was starving and really felt like having coffee. So, I walked over the first café I saw on the other side of the road. As I went inside the café, I noticed an Indian gentleman who ran the café. He seemed to be not in the best of moods. I ordered food (don’t remember what) and coffee, and sat down at one of the tables. As I checked the tickets email on my phone, I noticed the email said that the tickets had to be printed. I called Britannia and they said that they couldn’t print anything. So, I went to the Indian gentleman and requested him to print the ticket. As I said, he wasn’t in the best of moods and flat-out refused, and told me that he didn’t know where I could possibly get the print.

I went and sat down at the table where I was sitting, had a couple of sips of the coffee, and went back to him and asked, “Uncle, kahan se ho?” (translates to: where are you from?) He turned towards me and said, “India. Delhi.” My being myself, I talked about how some of my extended family is in Delhi and all the places I’d go to get the great north Indian delicacies. Uncle smiled at me, paused and asked, “Aap kahan se ho?” I told him that I lived in Texas but was there in Wolverhampton to watch Wolves smash the crap out of Liverpool. He was puzzled how I had traveled across continents just to watch football – honestly, was more puzzled than the immigration officer who stared me when told him I was taking a train in the two hours to Newcastle to watch Man United; the officer stared at me for a good couple of minutes as I was entering the UK!


Me and Shaam uncle talked and talked for like two hours, and he introduced me to Paronthini. He said it was invented at that very place, and trust me lads, if you go to Wolverhampton, you gotta try the Paronthini at Zuri Café. He made me try his favorite one and said, “It’s parontha + panini.” I had another cup of coffee and another paronthini. It was worth it! Before I was leaving, he said, "Didn't you want to get your ticket printed? It will get done here! Don't you worry!" I was so grateful! So, yeah, that's how my ticket got printed …and jetted off to the game.

At the game, I met Peter Wain, who was a English gentleman and a diehard Wolves fan. He grew up in Wolves and would come to all the games with his mates. He was shocked and asked me, “Wolves fan from America?!” I said, “No, sir. I am a football fan but I do like Wolves.” Wolves beat Liverpool 2-1 that night and what scenes from the stadium. What a game too and it was the magic of the cup! I had always heard of the oldest cup competition in the world and there I was, experiencing it all! I remember singing with the Wolves fans pointing at the Liverpool section, “you’re just a shit Man United. Shit Man United. Shit Man Unnnnniiiited you’re just a shit Man United.” What memories!

I walked back to Britannia and went to bed. Then, woke up at 4am and put on ESPN on my phone to watch the second half of the national championship game. We had played both Clemson and Alabama that year (and almost beat Clemson); what a game that was at Kyle Field! I couldn’t believe how well Clemson played the championship game to beat Bama’. I hopped on the train a couple of hours later.

Over an year later, I was in Wolverhampton again and this time to watch Man United take on Wolves! I got off the train and walked straight to Zuri Café and Shaam uncle greeted me like I had known him for years! First off, I was surprised that he even remembered me. Secondly, there were so many people in the café that time and uncle took time out to introduce me to a bunch of people including his daughter (I think). He was like, “Remember, I told you about this guy who came from Texas to watch the match!”

There are people whom you meet who instantly feel like family and Shaam uncle is one of them. I have met him a couple of times since, and uncle has always been as sweet as ever. The man is a gem and if you ever go to Wolverhampton, make sure you try his paronthini!

Love y’all,

Kratik

What Spirituality Has Taught Me?

Posted: Sunday, July 22, 2018 by Kratik in
1


“Science asks us to prove, spirituality wants us to feel.” The difference is small but massive.

You know, I grew up in a pretty spiritual family and from the get-go, I was always taught that God was one, and took different forms during various periods of humanity. Thousands of years ago, he once came as Krishna, once as Ram, once as Jesus, once as Allah, once as Shiva, once as Ganesh and the list goes on.

Right from how Lord Ram defeated Ravan and came to Ayodhya, to how Ganesh got an elephant head, to how Jesus Christ was crucified and was reborn, I was raised on their stories. To be honest, Hanuman-ji was an icon or a superhero for me. However, in spite of all the tales, the first-time spirituality really made sense to me was when I walked into an auditorium in Pune and it changed my outlook, forever.



An ancient Indian legend says, “When it’s time, your Guru finds you,” and He found me when I felt rock-bottom.

One of the first things I was told was that religion is just a coating and the fruit is spirituality. What it exactly meant was that one can follow any religion which he/she pleases because they all teach more-or-less the same thing: love, respect, integrity, wisdom, creation, transformation, maintenance and patience, and one must take the good and throw-out the bad. I really connected with this very concept because it was in line with everything that I had ever been raised on.

I also learned the five secrets to happiness: living in the present, opposite values are complimentary, don’t see intentions behind other people’s mistakes, don’t become a football of other people’s opinions and the most important, accept people and situations the way they are.

I thought accepting people and situations would’ve been the toughest but to be honest, it was the easiest. The day that you give up judgement and accept people and the situations the way they are, you tend to make peace with this world. I taught relaxation to about a hundred American college students and close to a hundred people who lived in homeless shelters in Florida and speaking to them and knowing their stories was brilliant. Now, there is a difference between accepting people for who they are, liking them for who they are and letting them affect you. In that case, one needs to communicate. Accepting situations was crucial too. One needs to see the bigger picture and accept where he or she is now and how he can turn this situation around into achieving the goal that he has set out to achieve. Before one does anything, being real and accepting the situation is very important.
Not seeing intentions behind anybody’s mistakes was a tough one and one that required dumping out the garbage. It needed a clean slate and having been dumped by your childhood sweetheart, along with screwing fifth semester engineering exams provided – even though I didn’t know – that perfect opportunity to let go everything that I was holding on to. People often think that the other person is doing something deliberately to hurt them and this often is a product of overthinking. Overthinking happens when we overanalyze things. In the past ten years, I have always wondered why people think so much. Now, don’t be a fool and don’t let people walk all over you but don’t be negative. Fight and fight hard when it’s necessary but see the good in people. Even Anguilimala life was transformed by Gautam Buddha. Let’s be a Buddha in someone’s life 😉

Life one of my friends says, “Trust people till the time you can’t trust them anymore,” and like my Guru says, “Walk with light feet and leave your footprints behind.”

People who know me, know that I often talk about the ‘I don’t give a shit’ attitude and yes, that’s true. Now, I do give an awful shit about what’s important to me but people’s opinions aren’t one of them. If I am true to myself, to everyone whom I love and to everything that I work for, what people think about me shouldn’t matter to me, should it? In India they say, “What people will say has killed more dreams than anything else,” and it couldn’t be truer. I was working as a sports journalist while studying engineering and some of my teachers cussed me out on a daily basis for chasing my dream, telling me that I am wasting my time. To see from their standpoint, they weren’t wrong. Any sane person would think that I was wasting my time because I was studying engineering but going around town covering national and international sports stories. There will be a time when everybody will call you crazy, but you need to believe in yourself, believe in God and trust that only the best will happen to me. It’s incredible what disregarding people’s opinions, faith and self-belief can do,

‘Opposite values are complimentary’ is a difficult one to explain. Let me give you a personal example. When I had first started working as a journalist during my days of engineering, I began my work full of excitement and enthusiasm but as time went on and it became a little mundane, I stopped enjoying it as much. I mean they were 16-hour days everyday but what can one do; I had a crazy engineering schedule, I was writing two, maybe even three, stories a day, and I tremendously needed a break. So, I took a few months off and started heading content writing for a cricket league in India and I realized that after the break I had, I began enjoying writing about sports and analyzing games once again. It’s funny, isn’t it…one loses enthusiasm if he keeps at it for a good period of time. I guess that’s why vacations and breaks from work are so important. Last year, I climbed a mountain. It was madness but it was brilliant. I came back buzzing and glowing!

After knowing and practicing these four pillars early on, I still hadn’t experienced ‘living in the present’ all the time feeling. I am a dreamer and my mind would oscillate between the past and the future, many a times, and that’s when I received the golden words from one of my spiritual teachers. I heard him say, “When you’re in the present, smiling is automatic.” As I listened to that I was like, “Why not flip it?” Why now smile all the time and see if it helps me live in the present? And it worked. I smiled and I started living in the present. Obviously, there are things that still take me back to the past and I think of what’s going to happen in the future but it’s not as much as it used to happen. It’s been a fantastic transformation.

I would often joke with people that out of Brahma (creation), Vishnu (maintenance) and Mahesh (transformation), transformation was my super-power. Spirituality installed such self-belief, confidence and faith in me that I thought I could achieve anything. Thus, journalism, sports marketing, working with Indian soccer teams as a sports analyst, Ireland and America.

I have learned a lot and clearly, this is not it but let’s leave the blog post here. I got an early start tomorrow and I need to go to bed but I thought I’d scribble something that brings about gratitude.

Let’s win every day and give our 100%!

Good night, people.

Love,
Kratik

Let’s Catch Up

Posted: Sunday, June 17, 2018 by Kratik in
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Firstly, I apologize for not writing for the longest time. You know, you get busy, you start complaining and worrying too much and eventually, when you’re sick of your own attitude, with the help of your hands, you get up. And yes, I am doing great. Thank you. After all these years, smile is coming on as cheap as it gets.

Secondly, I was told by a friend that I had lost my spirit. Her exact words were, “You’ve lost your spirit. Think of Danny; You used to make friends even inside bathrooms of a bar.” I paused and I went like…really? I still don’t know whether to believe her or not but I guess, somewhere deep inside, she is partially true.


It rained today and the only thing that I could think of was the feeling of dancing and playing in the rain. To be honest, I was surprised that I hadn’t done that in so long and I really wanted to today, but something within me stopped me. I came back home and went like…what’s up with me? Why am I not wearing my heart on my sleeve? It’s really weird to look back and see a gradual drop to holding myself back from singing 90s pop with countless random Uber drivers all over America. Possibly, my friend was right.

I have always loved something about having a sense of life: a personality and passion for what you love. Perhaps, I need to go back and inspire people, chase dreams, write my heart out, love like I have not loved in a long time, meet strangers, make songs and start celebrating everything.

…so, you know, back to the source. For starters, I had to write. So, here I am, writing…


There has always been something about people and me. When I have been the happiest, I have always had them around me. When they were not around me, I found them: teaching stress-relief programs at homeless centers, served food, going for coffee hours and various events were, probably, a medium. To be honest, it was more about knowing people, accepting them, seeing their point of views and in general, learning more about life. It was awesome to be an explorer. Thinking about it now, whenever I have been the happiest, I have always wanted to learn.

So, let’s go, lads! Who is ready to run, fly and win!


Thirdly, I moved to Texas A&M Football with coach Fisher and I am extremely grateful that the boss gave me an opportunity to join him in College Station; he is the best man one can work for. On a different front, shaadi (marriage) to me parents’ excitement, is finally kinda in process – we will see how that goes, where it happens and if she does turn out to be the girl. The FIFA world cup is on and as always, I am supporting England. Some of you people who follow me on snapchat, know how that’s going down. I may do a commentary video just for fun and post it somewhere in a month recapping the WC. To keep it short, life is a blessing and I am on my way.




And…Raman Chora has gone for a few adventures and done a few things his way. I need to blog about that too – I will look into it when I can get time. Okay, I will give you a snippet. He went to Vegas with a girl named ‘Chinki Dancewala’ whom he didn’t even know and it turned out…well, but even before that happened, he met a certain Lily Potter and her friend, Severus. Let’s see if it turns out to be legen…wait for it…dary! Legendary!

Love,
Kratik

Raman Chora And The Famous Train Ride

Posted: Thursday, February 23, 2017 by Kratik in
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Raman woke up rather late and from what he could observe, it was the early hours of the afternoon. Strangely, he was all alone riding a train that was different from a conventional Indian rail and rather fancy, wearing robes and going to…where was he going? Even he didn’t know; as a matter of fact, he couldn’t even remember getting on the train but there he was, on a train with a sealed pumpkin pastry lying before him, almost inviting him to take a bite.

As circumspect as he was, he couldn’t fight his hunger and so, he carefully opened the pastry and gulped it down in the same manner like he did every Sunday when his parents would take him and his siblings out to enjoy the famous chocolate Swiss roll from Baker’s Basket in Pune, India. But what was he doing in the train and where was he going? In order to know figure the same, he decided on taking a stroll down the bogie’s corridor.


Being as shy as he was and feeling as insecure as he felt, he – hesitantly – peeked outside his compartment. The corridor – with a single hand operated doorway on each side – was empty and the compartments were set off it, allowing each compartment to function as a self-contained stage within the larger train. The carriage was more like of the trains in Britain back in the day: dimly light, royal and very wooden. As he started walking down the aisle, his attention went to his robes which in spite of feeling heavy were very comfortable.


As soon as he reached the end of rail-coach, he heard some students chirping. His eagerness grew and feeling excited, he asked himself if he was going on some sort of a vacation. As he was about to walk through the doorway where all the cheerful noises were coming from, he felt nervous and on contemplating how wary he usually was of meeting new people, he decided on taking a couple of steps back and convinced himself to stand his ground.
After a few minutes as his anxiousness began to fade away, he asked himself, “Why not?” As he started heading towards the doorway, he noticed a strange symbol on the side of the carriage. It intrigued him and as he drew closer, the symbol - for a split second - took him back to the land where a boy, with a scar, lived and had two best friends. In fact, he exactly knew what it was but “How could it be?”, he asked himself. He had seen the exact same design in books and movies but by any stretch of the imagination, he couldn’t have been riding the Hogwarts Express to one of the major European wizarding schools located near the Scottish Highlands, could he?


Questioning himself if this were even real, an extremely panic-stricken Raman approached the doorway. The doors were closed and the dark glass above the door knobs were too difficult to see through from a distance. So, the little boy curled both his hands around his head and started to peek through the glass.

He noticed that there was a passage way connecting the carriage that he was on to another carriage which had numerous children wearing casual attire. They were laughing, talking and some even sharing food; it seemed like some sort of a celebration. It was all too strange for him because most kids in the other bogie didn’t have the same skin-tone as him, and he had hardly ever met anyone who wasn’t of Indian origin.

With cold feet and a heart pumping faster than the Shatabdi Express, Raman opened the door and walked over to the other carriage. As he entered the carriage, the place went silent and it seemed like there were a million eyes staring at the dark-haired Indian boy. Raman went numb and even though he desperately wanted to speak and know what he was doing in the train, out of fright, words wouldn’t leave his mouth.

Right then, a boy who also had darker – but rather untidy – hair came forward and introduced himself; he was tall, thin and had hazel eyes. Although Raman didn’t understand a word of what the boy said, with heavy breath, he shook the boy’s hand and replied with a bizarre, “Thank you.”

The boy chuckled, “Well, for me, you’d have to thank my parents. I am J-A-M-E-S, James Potter.”

Raman Chora And His First Time

Posted: Friday, July 15, 2016 by Kratik in
6

 Don’t get your hopes up, this is not erotica!


Raman Chora, the musician from Pune, grew up in the southern part of India – in the city of Bangalore – and studied at a well-known convent school in the western part of the capital of the state of Karnataka.
Even though he wasn’t considered the smartest in his grade, he wasn’t short of confidence; after all, he did consider himself the coolest one out there. Inspired by Aamir Khan in Dil Chahta Hai, he would put extra gel on his hair and spike it up, perfectly. Now, in India, if you barely pass your exams and you consider yourself ‘too cool’, you are automatically disliked by the teachers.

The teachers weren’t a fan of his and ‘his style’ so much so that they had made one of the sports teachers cut his hair in public, in front of his entire division of the grade! It was one of the most embarrassing days in school for the 13-year old but Raman being himself, laughed at himself along with the entire school…having an idea in his head of how jealous teachers were. Laughing at himself was one of the reasons why he had the amount of friends he had but deep down, even he knew that most of people he considered friends weren’t as close to him as he expected of them.
After the incident, almost everyone knew him in school but that wasn’t the only reason why he was well known. An year before the hair-cut event, he had shot himself to ‘fame’ by doing something he wasn’t proud of: The boy from Pune had become the first in his grade to ask a girl out. The news spread like wildfire and from being a boy, who was considered too seedha by his classmates, he was talked of by his juniors and seniors in school.
Christina, the girl whom he liked was from Montreal, Canada, had just moved to the Space City and – pretty much – answered ‘no’, straight up, and told him that she considered him a lallu! He felt like an absolute clown and if there were any amount of confidence going into it, now, even he could now smell the smoke in his arsenal.

What made the matters worse was that – like most good-looking girls in school – she was a quite famous which resulted in hundreds peeping in to his classroom before the morning assembly the just next day…wanting to get a glimpse of the person who asked out the girl from Canada.

As the day wore on, he could hear a lot of whispers in the class. There were giggles when he was asked a question and chants of ‘Christina’ when his name was called. There were more whispers and – what looked like – a million stares during the lunch break. Furthermore, people came up to him and questioned him several times about his intentions, desires and of what made him act in the way he did so.

Although he found the whole interrogation experience a little overwhelming but secretly, he was enjoying it. Never had people wanted to speak to him like they were doing then and he was trying to be as diplomatic as possible – dodging questions left, right and center. As the days passed, people mocking him by asking, “Where is Christina?” had become a routine exercise.
One day, sitting with friends, who couldn’t stop teasing him with the girl’s name, he started to laugh at his own actions and then, figured out a defense mechanism. He thought that if he laughed his own self, no one could really trump that. If he laughed at his own shame and wore it as though there were no guilt and made fun of himself instead of trying to his justify his own doings, he would able to laugh at him and people would get over it quicker.

So, it began. Raman laughed at everything that happened. He laughed at the good and at the bad, and did not care one-bit of what people thought and said. This, on paper, sounds good but in reality, it didn’t really work well because the teachers and somehow, all of his neighbors got to know of his karnamey in school, and if you know, in India, it’s a massive deal! The information was communicated by every source to his parents and some of the days that followed weren’t pleasant.



In school, now he wasn’t called by his first name by students, they called him the ‘Christina-guy’; the teachers were interested in knowing if this was the reason why he came to the school for, if he has been brought up by his parents in a ways unacceptable in the Indian society; and at home he was repeatedly asked, “Why do you go to school? Do we send you to school to do all this? Have we taught you this?”
In this situation, all Raman did was question his actions and ask himself if he had done anything wrong. After much thinking, like a typical teenager, he came to a conclusion that the teachers were old-fashioned and the other students were not as ballsy!

But a part of him matured. Being himself, he started accepting the entire situation, and slowly and gradually as time passed, he made friends. It took time but his confidence was restored and what followed was him improving his style, personality and reputation, but in spite of all that, what he never gave up on was Christina. Although he never succeeded, he tried effortlessly and at times, even got borderline creepy which resulted in him being addressed by the Canadian girl how much she hates him.

After almost a decade, Raman has moved on and the couple occasionally see each other in Pune at his musical gigs but each time that they meet, there are never words exchanged…just smiles as Raman still continues to laugh at everything: the good and the bad.
 
 

Introducing Raman Chora

Posted: Tuesday, July 12, 2016 by Kratik in
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Let me take you on an adventure…
Well, he is stupid. Ah, let’s be fair to him…probably, naïve is the right word.
Raman – who sings for a local Indian band in Pune, India and who has a massive ADHD problem – dreams to be bigger than his idol, Billie Joe Armstrong. No matter how impractical people call him, he is a self-proclaimed legend, having an unwavering belief and a confidence in his own ability, but missing the cockiness attached to the title.
The 25-year old is a sensitive, passionate and an extremely spontaneous man who gets manipulated easily. Add following his heart and Mumma’s boy to it, and it results in a combination that doesn’t bode well.
 
Women are his weakness and he falls in love way too easily, which – considering he is a Huffledor (get the Harry Potter context) – sees him land in complicated situations all the time, often resulting in heartbreak.
He speaks three languages and understands another two, and does most things that are considered ‘cool’…but he has a problem of overthinking everything. At times, he even overthinks his overthinking!
 
He can’t stand bullies and people with extreme views, but is still friends with them because he prizes everything in life. Whether it’s friendships, love, relationships or even at work, he puts down conditions for most things and considers himself a leader, but even he knows that he is too chicken to be one.
He wishes to live his life drama free but his decisions don’t allow the same, and being a massive believer in destiny, he feels that everything happens for a reason. He doesn’t lose hope and works hard towards what he wants to achieve, but that’s usually to get out of the mess that he often creates for himself.
He is a self-proclaimed know-it-all rebel, unfazed by celebrities, who never holds back in telling people what he believes and says will follow it to his grave.
To cut it short…he is clown who often gets himself into awkward, shameful, scary, ridiculous and at times, dangerous situations but ends up loving and enjoying every moment of it!
 
Get ready as I take you on an adventure J 

Seeing God From The Naked Eye

Posted: Sunday, April 24, 2016 by Kratik in
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“Cricket Is Our Religion, Sachin Is Our God.”

I can happily say that I am from a generation where millions just watched cricket so that they could watch him bat. I still remember the time when people would leave cricket grounds or switch off their TV sets at home after Sachin Tendulkar got out. As big of a cricket fan as I was growing up, a die-hard Gangulian, it was mind-boggling to me; I couldn’t understand the whole sachin-mania.

I remember seeing him practice for the first time in 2000 when the Indian national cricket team was in nets at Poona club and to my surprise, he looked…normal. But there was something about him. I remember watching the attention that he attracted every time he jogged past a crowd on the sidelines; it was unprecedented. He was the only one that people were going crazy for and had to be held back by the police every single time. As for me, I was as excited to see Ajit Agarkar practicing catches as spot him sprint in front of me.

I remember sitting in a ‘tuk-tuk’, on my way back home, not believing that I had just watched the Indian team train and as satisfied as I was, I couldn’t flush my head of those people going crazy for Sachin. There was something about him that nobody else had: an aura of some sorts.


I mean he had been the poster boy of Indian cricket for the past few years, and he had obviously played those test innings in the recent past against Pakistan and those two unforgettable knocks at Sharjah against Australia not too long ago and he was the youngest cricket captain that India ever had but I couldn’t get my head round the fact that people started to cry after they saw him from close. It was crazy; I just couldn’t understand.

So, I started reading on him, watching more of his videos and interviews and speaking to as many people in school and in the neighborhood, trying to figure out how and why he was so big, and I came to an understanding that everyone whom I spoke to felt that they considered one of their own: like a brother and one who had the backing of everyone. What was really interesting that most of the people I interacted with referred to him as Sachin and not Tendulkar, underlining the fact that they felt like he was one of them.


As I grew older, I finally got a chance to watch him play and to my astonishment (not!), he played one of his best IPL innings, scoring an unbeaten 72, against KKR. The only reason I went to Mumbai was to watch Sourav Ganguly bat but I came home realizing that I had wasted my life not seen Sachin – the man who carried the national team for the longest time – bat from naked eyes for India. It so happened that even though I was backing Dada’s team, seeing the ‘master blaster’ stroke the ball, I couldn’t stop but wishing more of the same. Now that I think of it, a bunch of us grew up as Gangulians, Dravidians and fans of Azhar but by default, we were all Tendulkarites.

In 2009, I was writing for a national Indian newspaper and in August, I was told that the cricketing maestro was going to be at this MCA press conference that I also had an invite to. An overly excited me, reached three hours before the event and discovered there to be an outrageous amount of media. As it turned out, what was going to be a press conference had to be changed to a proper hall function with a stage and speakers. As the he walked onto the stage, even people from the media cheered. I was amazing – and shocking – at the same time; I mean who expects the media to cheer? But then, I knew that I wasn’t the only one for whom he was a really big deal and my excitement was justified!


But what happened next was even more surprising. After speaking, the ‘God of Cricket’ went and made himself on the chair that he was previously sitting on as Mr. Ajit Wadekar took the began to speak, and after a couple of minutes very expertly exited from behind the curtains which I did not take a note of. Apparently, everyone else did and there was a wave of journalists, in groups, running out of the door, hoping to get a shot of the legend. That wave was nothing like I had ever seen before; it was brisk just like Sachin’s straight drive.

 From the time he walked in to the time he left, you couldn’t help notice his aura; it was the third time I had noticed it. It was massive and gracious. And from what I have read and heard, it was of a man who just wanted to play cricket and worked relentlessly hard to become who he was: the best ever who was loved by billions for what he did and how he served.


Over four years ago, when I had started off with my masters in sports management at the Florida State University, I was asked to give a presentation on cricket. As I was about to start the presentation, one of my classmates raised her hand and said, “I don’t know much about the sport except for Sachin, who is called your God, I have watched him play a few times.” That instance. Just that; it still makes me smile. Who would have thought that somebody on the other side of the world, who doesn’t even know the rules of cricket, would be knowing of India’s famous number ten!


 From being somebody who thought Sachin was a fantastic batsman to one growing up to realize that the ‘Little Master’ is not just a cricketer, he is much more than that. To a bunch of us, growing up in the 90s, he has been cricket. Even though I have been in his presence a few times, the only regret that I have so far in my life is to have not watched God play for India from the naked eye.

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