Sunday, 24 October 2010

Sachin Tendulkar on Dvaita and Advaita

Sachin Tendulkar and Cheteshwar Pujara

Cheteshwar Pujara, looking back on his test debut, remembers that “ he (Sachin) told me that God has given you this chance to play; he will help you score runs, don’t worry.” 

Pujara’s words give devout Sachinists a rare insight into Sachin's religious thought. To Sachin, it is clearly self-evident that God exists, and that God is merciful and kind. Sachin also seems to be describing a God who is out-there rather than in-here, the Dvaita God rather than the Advaita God. He is not asking Pujara to search for the spark of the divine that dwells within, he is asking Pujara to trust in the Almighty, a power distinct and different from Pujara. 

Sachin’s advice worked. Pujara kept his cool and made a fourth inning 72 to steer India to a memorable series win against Australia. That is good evidence in support of Sachin’s theology. 

Spiritual faith can’t be evaluated for truth, because its truth or falsehood can never be empirically tested. Spiritual faith can only be judged, if it can be judged at all, by the yardstick of usefulness: does this faith result in better human behaviour or performance? Pujara’s experience suggests that trusting God, and therefore freeing up the mind and spirit to be present in the moment, does improve performance. 

Sachin believing instinctively in a God-out-there, in a higher power than man, feels natural. He is so gifted he could make an atheist believe in God. 

Radheya and his Guru Parashurama
Yet the Gods are capricious. They can be cruel even to the devout, even to their most favoured sons. The gifts the Gods give so liberally they can take away, especially when they are most needed.

This happened to Sachin at a pivot point in history. After he was player of the tournament in the 2003 World Cup, he was touring Australia with Saurav Ganguly’s team in 2004. India were going toe to toe, eyeball to eyeball, with Steve Waugh’s team, the greatest cricket team since Clive Lloyd’s Windies. India were playing with courage, conviction and skill, matching the Aussies’ every move. Dada, Rahul, Laxman and Viru had all scored career defining centuries. 

But where was our best player? Sachin was missing. 

It was as if Sachin was Radheya in the Mahabharata, the greatest archer in the great war at Kurukshetra, who lost his skills at the war’s most crucial moment. In the first three tests, Sachin had managed scores of 0, 0, 44, 1 and 37. Worse than the scores themselves was the way he was batting: scratching around, groping for the ball, hanging his bat out to dry. 

Now, even Sachin was a mere mortal. 

As the series reached its climax, Sachin responded to his mortality by reaching within, by discovering that he was man enough to make his own destiny.

For the final and decisive test match in Sydney, Steve Waugh’s last match, Sachin turned his game upside down. He did not put his trust in God. He did not trust his God-given instincts. He did not play at anything outside the off stump, an area which had been so productive for him over the years. He did not drive at half volleys secure in the knowledge that the Gods would guide the ball to the cover boundary instead of into second slip’s hands. 

Sachin playing the shot
he denied himself in Sydney
He completely cut out his favourite offside shots. He didn't score a single boundary between point and long-off. He made the Aussies bowl on to his pads, batted all day with VVS Laxman, remained unbeaten on 241, and took India to a position from where Australia could not win.

This was unquestionably Sachin’s greatest innings, and it was completely unlike anything Sachin had ever played before. It wasn’t about incandescent, outrageous talent blowing away the opposition. It was about character and craftsmanship, grit and determination, the gifts of the God-found-within as much as the God-above. 

Sachin did not turn his back on the Gods. He was not bitter that the Gods had abandoned him. He accepted God's  wrath as graciously as he accepted His munificence. But Sachin was no longer solely dependent on God's munificence; he was now twice-born, having given expression to the God-within as well as the God-above. 

On his test debut, Pujara discovered that the Gods can be kind, the Gods had given him a chance to play for India. He found out that the Gods can be cruel, like with the grubber from Mitchell Johnson that got him LBW in his first test innings. He discovered that faith in God can be useful, like the faith that kept him calm during his match-winning second innings. But the longer he plays, the more he will discover that he needs to find the God-within to join the ranks of India’s great players, like Saurav Ganguly, Zaheer Khan, Anil Kumble, Sunil Gavaskar, or that ultimate fighter, Mohinder Amarnath. Or like Sachin Himself.