Sachin in and as …SACHIN!!!
My name is Sachin. Sachin Tendulkar. I don’t know my exact age, but Bayya told me that I look like an 8 year old boy. This is my story. My story means, I am the main actor plus I wrote this story. It is not completely true that, I wrote this story, because I don’t know to write and read. I always wanted to go to school, but never got a chance.
This story is so narrated by me and written by Bayya. And first thing Bayya told me was that, He would edit and re-edit the story and sentences many times, so that readers will understand what I am trying to say and so that the story takes a good shape. I got angry hearing this, because he was not keeping my original story for readers but still I hesitatingly told “YES”- cause I don’t have an option. Me - the poor slumdog fame Indian illiterate, Bayya – The symbol of literate modern
Then, Bayya told me that, this is not a story to show the fight between me and Bayya. Which means, not a story to show the social and economic inequality of India. (This sentence about inequality was included by Bayya and not me. I don’t even know what this social and economic means?) He told me that, this should be a story of my colourful 8 years I lived so far. The fun and effervescence inside me should completely come in this story also. I did not exactly understand what he meant by that, but one thing I understood is that Bayya wants girls, songs, stunts, rape scene, robbery, alcohol, smoke, drug etc etc etc to be included in this story, and he knows that I have enough of it in my stock. And then Finally Bayya told me with a serious face – “Look Sachin. You need not mention about me now and then in this story. It’s your story and the reader should feel that you are telling this story directly to them and should forget me completely.”
I made my face so serious, so serious that He really felt as if I am very serious about this story. In fact the whole idea of this story is his and not mine!!! Oh God. What am I doing? Let me start my story again.
My name is Sachin. Sachin Tendulkar. The real Sachin Tendulkar is a like a God to me. I never miss even a single ball when Sachin bats. I love to watch cricket on those big TVs…Yes you got it, in the T.V shops. I forget to eat and Pee for long hours. Once when Sachin got out on 99, I broke the glass of that T.V shop. Then I suddenly realised that it’s not my father’s T.V shop, and I started running. I never went to that city again. So my point is, this name, Sachin Tendulkar was given to me by myself.
I know many things about this world and I don’t know the remaining. The things I don’t know and people normally get shocked to hear that “I don’t know” are –
1. Where are you from?
2. Where are you “coming” from? - This question is different from 1st. You will get to know that later.
3. What all work do you know?
4. What date is today? Or what date is tomorrow?
5. Where/who are your parents?
I mean, there are many many questions like this which I can never answer in my whole life- Either because I really don’t know the answer or because I am not really interested to know the answer. But, Now I will try to remember and tell you whatever I know about me, and that will be this story…
Whenever I try to remember about my parents, a big black screen appears in my mind, as if T.V goes blank when Sachin is batting on 99. My black and white life starts in a big city and the only person I remember myself to be with is a big old man with a huge beard but without a leg. He always used to take me with him and used to ask people in the street for money, mainly showing me and his single leg. To be simple, it’s called begging. Sometimes I used to get too tired but most of the time I enjoyed it, because I always got good food. The only problem those days was the night and the cold. We never had the same street to sleep because most of the nights, police used to come and disturb us during the night. He was my father and mother. He took “care” of me for everything in my life. But, the fact is that I never liked him. I used to have dream in which he appears as Henry Olonga limping in his single leg and bowling to me, and I, Sachin Tendulkar, hitting him for a huge Six.
“Henry Olonga” died one day, and that is when I realised that, how important he was for me in my life…and the fact that…I am alone in this whole world!!!
“India is my country. All Indians are my brothers and sisters. I love my country and...”- I have heard them saying this pledge everyday morning, for I-don’t-know-how-many number of days. I used to stand under the shades of a big tree and watch those students standing in an order with all of them wearing same kind of clothes. I don’t know how I reached that school, but one thing I knew was, I was not a student in that school. I was a little kid, may be 3 years old at that time, and all the students in that school were very tall and big. And so they used to call it as a “high” school. Due to the same reason, they did not allow me to study there.
I used to call him masterji, because I thought it was his name. Later I started thinking that it is very awkward to keep a name as “masterji” for a person as wonderful as him. But when I grew further older, I came to know that I was an idiot.
He was wonderful because, I was not related to him in anyway, but still he gave me food three times a day. He gave me a corner of his room for me to sleep. He gave me new clothes; sometimes old clothes; sometimes oversized clothes-but all same kind of colour- but still clothes.
I lived in that place for almost 2 years or so. I played with those “tall” students in that big play ground. Masterji occasionally used to ask me for some help like to get a tea from the near by shop, or to get a pen from the same shop or to get a pencil from the same shop etc. He spoke rarely with me. I always had felt that, he spoke too much in classes and got too much tired and that is why he was not speaking to me. But, I never had complaints about that.
And then, one day I stole some cash from his pocket. And Why I did that- The same answer. I don’t know!!!
He found out that some money was missing from his pocket and he questioned me. I denied. He again questioned me. I denied. He again questioned me. I denied.
Then, He asked me to touch his head and he asked me the same question.
“Beta, you tell me the truth. And if you don’t tell me the truth my head will burst and I will die”
“I did not take it masterji”- I again denied and a drop of water came out from my eyes. Shit!!! Why the heck am I crying???
“Then why are you crying” he asked
I could not answer anything, and I felt that somebody was pulling my tongue hard inside from my stomach.
Then a tight slap fell on my face, and it was so hard that I was on ground.
I ran…..I ran…all I had was some paper inside my shirt pocket. The shirt given by masterji and the paper had “Gandhi” Photos printed on it!!!
How much a 5 year old can run?
So I got bus and then train and (no flight-that will be too much) and again train…
And, Finally I was caught in some railway station.
After that I stopped travelling in train and decided to settle somewhere. Because I was growing up and I should get settled somewhere right? I wandered in many cities. That was the worst time of my life. Days passed. I became a big fan of Sachin and re-named myself as Sachin Tendulkar.
…And then finally I reached the city of Bangalore!!!
I fell in love with her in the first sight itself.
“What job you can do…you little kid?”- She smiled at me and asked.
“I can do any job”- I answered with a naughty tone.
“I don’t want to get arrested for promoting child labour” she said.
And I did not understand that. So I said “hmmmm…Ok”
Then there was a confused look on her face and a big silence for sometime.
I picked my nose and scratched my head until she spoke something.
Then she told –“ok come inside”.
I happily went inside, and it was a big house. Her husband was staying somewhere else so that, they could talk over phone between each other… and as I mentioned, she was beautiful. I always wanted to say an “I love you” to her, because she was really loving me so much. Then, one day she told me that, I can call her “Amma”, which I knew, means mom….and I called her “Amma”.
That night I didn’t sleep and wept all throughout!!!
She had another aunty there in that house to do cooking. So we three lived in that house. I used to help that aunty for gardening, getting vegetables from market, cleaning the house and many such simple things.
My Amma’s husband came to that house from somewhere, so that they could now talk directly…and I did not like him because, Amma started spending time with him and not with me. So basically, that is why I started thinking about killing him. But, before I could execute my plans, he left the house again.
What to say-“Bach gaya…saala”.
Days passed very fast then, and it was the best part of my life.
One day I felt very bad. I was sneezing and coughing all the time and Amma told that I had high fever. So she took me to a hospital and the doctor there looked very funny.
But things changed when he needled me in my ass, and I bit him back on his a hand.
Amma said sorry to him, and I said sorry to Amma. But she was very much upset after that day, and I felt that she started to hate me after that incident. My fever did not come down for many days and I was feeling bad always.
To make the situation worse, Amma’s husband came back to that house again. Days passed and my fever came down and I was back in action again.
One day when I was about to sleep in the night, my Amma’s husband came to my room and started taking with me.
“Are you angry with me?” He asked.
“How do you know that?” I asked.
“I know that. I never talk with you and I never loved you” He told
“I had plans of killing you” I told.
He laughed out loudly hearing that, and even though I felt that he was under estimating me, I felt better to see him laugh.
Then he started asking me many questions like:
Where are you from? , Where are you “coming” from? , What all work do you know? What date is today? , what date is tomorrow? , Where/who are your parents?
I answered “I don’t know” for all these questions- either because I really didn’t know the answer or because I was not really interested to know the answer.
“Oh…you poor kid…” He told, and his face and eyes turned red.
He touched my forehead and told-“You can call me Bayya. Bayya means brother”
… From that night, I left my plans of killing Bayya and we became friends.
I don’t know whether I mentioned the same way before or not, but this again was the best part of my life. I and Bayya spend a lot of time together. Me, Amma and Bayya went to many places. I saw many animals in a place called “zoo”. I went to a place named “theatre”- some other world in which a boy my age called “Harry potter” was doing magic. He was flying on a stick, he was fighting with everyone and he had many powers. I became a big fan of him and even thought of changing my name from Sachin Tendulkar to Harry potter. But things did not work out easily, and Amma told it’s a big process to change the name and all. So I left it there. Days again passed by…
And again, my fever came back.. And I felt very tired. I did not wanted to go to the doctor again, because I never wanted my Amma to be upset again. But still she was. She was very upset that, she even stopped talking with me.
I was about to sleep that day, and again Bayya came to my room.
“Are you still angry with me” he asked.
“I am sorry for that. If I had killed you, it would have been bad” I told.
“I know that. People sometimes make mistakes” he said, which was not a question. But still I replied.
“Yes. I stole money from masterji’s pocket. That was a mistake” I said.
His eyes went wide open, because he never knew my story completely.
“Do you want to meet your masterji again and say sorry to him?” Bayya asked.
Even though it was a question, I did not answer for it.
“It will be good. For you and for your masterji and everything will be fine” he said.
“Yes...I want to” I said.
“Ok…I will take you…” he said “…But on two conditions”
“What are those?” I asked
“One is your fever should come down completely and second is that you should agree to write a story”
The first was a very easy condition, but the second was equally tough, because I never learned to read and write.
“That is ok. But what is this story?” I asked very curiously.
“It will be your story. You will tell me and I will write it for you and the story will be called, Sachin…in and as Sachin. Good right?”
“Yes…it’s good” I said.
But then Bayya suddenly hugged me and started crying. I could feel his tears wetting my cheeks. I was feeling very tired and sleepy. So I could not completely help him by doing my part of crying, as I was supposed to. But still I managed.
Then he got up and asked me –“Have you heard about a disease called AIDS?”
“No. What is it?” I asked. Actually, I knew it. But, since kids of my age was not supposed to know about such “funny” disease, I said no.
“Do you know it kills people?” Bayya asked.
This was a new piece of knowledge for me, but I felt it irrelevant. So I kept silence.
Then he kept his palm on my forehead and checked my fever again, and then he left.
My fever came down after some days and in order to meet my masterji again, I had to write my story. And so we started writing the story!!! I was not good in this story writing thing. So I included “Bayya” in all my sentences. And then Finally Bayya told me with a serious face – “Look Sachin. You need not mention about me now and then in this story. It’s your story and the reader should feel that you are telling this story directly to them and should forget me completely.”
I made my face so serious, so serious that He really felt as if I am very serious about this story. In fact the whole idea of this story is his and not mine!!!
The below part was entirely written by my Bayya and was not narrated by me:
Bayya somehow found that “high” school for me and took me to masterji. I was tired and sick throughout the journey… and then finally I saw my masterji. Bayya and Amma were with me in that room.
He asked me to keep my hand on his head and then asked me-“Did you steal money from my pocket?”
“Yes. I did. I am really sorry for that” I said.
Then there was a huge silence which I did not like at all.
So I said- “but masterji, you told your head will burst if I lie, but it never happened that day”
Then there was a loud noise of laughter in that room.
I was happy to see everybody laughing together with me…my masterji, my Amma and my Bayya!!!
.
.
.
And after some days…I happily said “Good-bye” to this world.
And if you all remember….my name was Sachin!!!
