Following Sachin Tendulkar's retirement, a letter to His batting mate - Anjali

Dear Anjali,
For many years now, I along with the rest of the media, have respected your need for privacy, spared you our intrusion and honoured your choice to lead a low profile life as the partner of one of the world’s most celebrated individuals.

But of course, these are unusual circumstances that call for unusual responses.

Unusually, in our nation’s history has come a moment when a hero who gave its millions such joy and hope and made them feel so strong and invincible, has retired.

Unusually, a personality, who has been in the glare of an unprecedented amount of attention and scrutiny, has walked away — still spotless, adored and unblemished.

And unusually, after years of being a graceful silhouette at his side, a muted presence behind dark shades, you chose to step out of the shadows and stand alongside your man in the moment of his glory,  in the middle of the arena and under the spotlight of the world as he took his leave.

And that, of course, in the manner of things could not have been more fitting.

“The most beautiful thing happened to me in 1990 when I met my wife, Anjali,” said your husband, in what must be the most edifying speeches delivered in recent times. “You are the best partnership I’ve had in my life.”

And in that moment,  he had addressed and acknowledged two and a half decades of a life unknown to the world: the every day, quotidian details of the lives champions lead away from the spotlight and far from the cheering crowds — when they are just ordinary men, striving fathers, eager husbands and heroes in repose before they go back on the field. 

The life you saw and supported Anjali, day in and day out, providing your steady unshakeable love in a collaboration that enabled another’s genius to unfurl.

In that speech, Anjali, your husband referred to your own career as a doctor, which never saw fruition. What he didn’t mention though, were the other sterling acts of omission that you chose.

For instance, never once in 24 years did you draw attention to yourself, flaunt your wealth, position or achievements. You did not throw a tantrum, did not seek popular approval, did not use your position to promote yourself or your talents: not once, for instance, was the world ‘s attention drawn to your facility with water colours, your penchant for designing saris, or your great interest in changing the world.

We never saw you occupy the front rows of fashion shows, never heard you give a sound byte on TV on the state of the nation, and even the good work your mother did for charity was conducted as it ought to be — with a whispering dignity and a quiet devotion.

What I am saying, Anjali, is that you did what you had to do with as much brilliance and flair as your husband on the field: straight as an arrow, unwavering in your commitment and with as much elegance as his extraordinary batting.

Which is why, it is with a sense of admiration and awe that I say that in these sorry times we live in, where so much in our lives is going wrong, and so many of our heroes have displayed feet of clay, the resounding applause that you heard that day in the stadium as you stood so proudly by the side of your batting mate was as much for you as it was for him.

May you enjoy your breakfasts with him for a long, long time now.

Yours sincerely etc

Malavika Sangghvi can be contacted at malavikasangghvi @hotmail.com

Malavika Sangghvi
The writer believes in the art of letter writing