The end of my childhood

They say that after thirty, every birthday is a pain. You can feel that you are getting old. It’s no more fun now – celebrating birthdays. Well, I've had three birthdays since I turned thirty and I never felt the pain. They were as much fun as they were earlier. But not now. Because something happened.

Today I saw Sachin Ramesh Tendulkar walk out for the last time to bat.

I was happy at first, I felt fortunate enough to see him bat one last time. But then he played a brilliant cover drive off Shillingford for a four. And then it hit me. I will never be able to see that shot again in my life. Or the perfect straight drive, or the back-foot cover drive, or the upper cut, or the paddle sweep. This revelation came crashing down on me. Suddenly, my heart became heavier than lead.

That’s when I knew that now my childhood is officially over. This is the beauty of Sachin Tendulkar. If our lives were a facebook page, he was the timeline. Every significant moment of my life is remembered by me with respect to a Sachin moment somewhere around that. I made my first school switch when he hit his first century. 1998 was one of the worst years of my life but it was bearable because it was his best. I left my home for the first time to study just before his historic tour of Pakistan. I don’t remember the exact date when I proposed my girlfriend but I remember it was a day after he hit a century.

This is the true impact of Sachin Tendulkar. Especially on people of my age. We all have our Sachin stories. I remember the first time I saw him bat. What’s more incredible is, I also remember what I was wearing that time, what my dad was wearing. I remember that it was my English Grammar exam next day and how I pleaded with my mother to go and watch the batsman who made my dad shout like a kid.

He was a role model too (major understatement). Bowlers in my school would try to imitate McGrath and Donald. After bowling a bouncer they would come up to us and sledge, use curses, spit in front of us. We imitated Sachin. Look in the distance, practice the shot and re-adjust the crotch. All this time without noticing the bowler. Now I see young batsmen with tattoos imitating Virat Kohli.

The speech after the match was simple and yet brilliant. It was good to see that all the politicians, officials and senior players didn’t try to meddle too much and gave him his space to speak to his fans. I had almost forgotten the terrible knot in the stomach that I experienced on seeing Sachin walk back to the pavilion after getting out. All was lost when he got out; if I were alone, I would switch the TV off. It all came back today, watching him walk back to the pavilion. By the time he had finished his speech, the knot had tightened and there was also a lump in my throat.  Strangely, it felt nice to have that sinking feeling again - for one last time.

A week from now I will be thirty-three. But I know this time it will be different. The joy will be muted, because the child in me has retired. Thank you Sachin Ramesh Tendulkar. For keeping that child alive for twenty-four years.