THE DAY MY CHILDHOOD DIED

THE DAY MY CHILDHOOD ENDED ...

It happened at 1 o’clock on the 16^th of November 2013, in a stadium called Wankhade in the city of Mumbai. It was hot and the sun was beating down on me while I had tears flowing down my eyes. As the tears flowed, I prayed for it not to happen. But it did.

Sachin Ramesh Tendulkar waved and walked up the stairs to the Indian dressing room for the final time.

And that walk took away my last childhood hero.

While growing up we all have had those few people for whom we've bunked classes, stayed up late at night, fought with the world for and prayed hard that they conquer the world for us just because they were our heros.

When Micheal Jackson belted out Thriller he defined music for me. When Maradona weaved his magic on the football field, the game brought new meaning to my life. When Amitabh Bachchan tore into the villians on screen, life seemed perfect. When Boris Becker threw himself across the tennis court to return that tennis ball, I wanted to do the exact same thing. And when Sachin Tendulkar hoisted the opposition bowlers across the boundary line, the kid in me felt, I and every Indian had done the same.

These were the people that defined my childhood. My adolescent years were where their posters, their mannerisms and their deeds kept life alive. Those were the pre-satellite TV, Twitter and Facebook days when it was difficult to get news about them, see them and interact with them the way it is today. I remember saving up money so that I could buy the next Micheal Jackson album. Staying over at my Uncles house so that we could watch the Germany World cup together and get my fill of Maradona. Standing in line to buy a ticket for Hum and throw money at the screen when Amitabh Bachchan wooed Kimi Katkar with Jumma Chumma, bunk school because Sachin was batting. There was the pure unadulterated happiness that was felt when anyone of them were doing something …the joy that a child feels ..the sheer high when they won and the dejection when they lost.

And then one by one they went away; death took away some, the sportsmen stopped playing and Amitabh Bachchan the actor was no longer the hero on screen. Younger guns took over… but Sachin kept my childhood alive. He stood as the last link. Playing with the same gay abandon that he had when he was 16, the first time he became a part of my life. When he played the outside world stopped to exsist. Cheering and jumping, buying tickets for live games that I could see him as part of, celebrating his success and mourning his losses.

As life went on and adulthood brought with it its fair share of worries and the responsibilities of living, Sachin was the escape I sought when life got tough. The world was changing in so many ways around me, but Sachin remained constant ..watching him play still connected me to the days of my childhood…sitting with friends in a stadium and watching him walk on the field still made me jump with joy and become the child again. Listening to his exploits from others still make me wide eyed …he was my link to a time gone by.

And then one day I met him ….the only person after Amitabh Bachchan who left me tongue tied.

I was shooting a TV show with him that I was directing but all I managed to do was watch him gawkily; my hero had come alive in front of me. I had always made fun of others who did it but all I could say as my opening sentence to him was "Im a big fan”…yes I had done that!

He kept playing and he kept doing what he did best; wacking the bowlers and keeping the child in me happy. When he lifted the world cup in Mumbai I was there crying and laughing and hugging strangers cause my hero had done us proud. I never thought that one day he will stop playing. But it did happen in front of my eyes; he walked out to bat for the last time and played all the strokes that I had watched growing up,the square cut,the punch of the backfoot,that perfect forward defence and the drive straight down the ground. It felt like he was playing them for me, to give me the perfect images that I could store in the heart of my childhood forever.

And then he walked away.

Leaving me standing there with just memories of my childhood …will I ever be able to be the child again when I watch cricket?

Yes I will. Because all our childhood heros deserve that …they deserve the promise that we will keep the child in us alive. Watch sports with the same gay abandon, listen to music with the same gusto and enjoy cinema as if the magic will never end.

I promise Sachin that I will watch the game with the same passion as I did before, cheer as loudly and keep the memories that he has given safe somewhere in my heart.

I will not let my childhood die ….SACHIINNNN SACHIINN!!!!