HOWZAT

India, whose bid for a series victory in Australia was thwarted by Waugh’s obduracy in Sydney, are a team in the ascendancy. They followed up their Antipodean heroics with their first series win on Pakistan soil in April. “That was a massive tour,” says Tendulkar. “It happened after almost 15 years, and because of that, it was about far more than just cricket. We were treated wonderfully by the Pakistani people. There had been security concerns earlier, but once we got there, the hospitality we received was remarkable. I don’t think we’ll ever forget that. The people made it a memorable tour for us.”

On the field, though, there was no question of being gracious guests. Being of a generation that had come to see defeat against Pakistan as a depressing inevitability, victory was especially sweet for Tendulkar. “The rivalry goes back many years, and that makes it exciting,” he says. “You know that the supporters will celebrate a little more than usual when you win.”

Despite the security blanket that enveloped the players wherever they went, he still found time to soak up the atmosphere, going shopping for shoes in Peshawar and observing all that had been bypassed by a teenager’s eye 15 years earlier. “To be honest, I remember little of my first tour of Pakistan. I was just so excited to be part of the Indian team. I just wanted to go out and play as much as possible. Nothing tired me out. And being a food lover, I really enjoyed the cuisine.

“I remember a fair bit of hostility on the field. You expect that, because Test cricket is hard cricket and you’re expected to be tough in the middle. This time, though, as the senior team member, I had a different role to play. I kept telling the boys how exciting it was going to be, and how the memories would stay with them forever. And it turned out that way. The one-day matches were very closely contested, and lifting both the one-day international and Test trophies was a thrilling experience. We were desperate to make the fans proud.”

There was one dark cloud, however. At Multan, in the first Test, Tendulkar donned the senior’s cloak, and guided Virender Sehwag to a thrilling triple-century. But a lapse in communication with those in the dressing room meant that Dravid, the stand-in captain, declared the innings closed with Tendulkar stranded on 194. At the press conference in the evening, he was asked if he was disappointed at missing out on a double-hundred. Yes, he said, adding that the call to go in had come as a surprise. The next day, several columnists attacked his selfishness and cast aspersions on his commitment to the cause.

It’s something that troubles him, even three months later. “I was disappointed by the reaction to what I said,” he says. “Some in the media want to create controversies, come what may. I feel that I’m allowed to speak my mind and say what I feel. I’m as human as everyone else. I just replied to a question. I was disappointed, and when asked if I was, I said, ‘Yes’. If I had said, ‘No’, I’d have been lying.

“But you don’t carry such disappointments onto the field the next day. I didn’t read a single article about it. It didn’t matter, because Rahul and I had cleared up the matter with each other.”

One of the popular conspiracy theories suggested that Dravid and Tendulkar were now rivals, and that the schism had come about because Dravid had supplanted Mumbai’s favourite son as India’s best batsman. It went on to suggest that Tendulkar was less than comfortable in such a strong batting line-up, a far cry from the days when he was a lone colossus, the fall of whose wicket heralded a house-of-cards collapse. Tendulkar rubbishes the idea. “I always felt that we had talented batsmen,” he says. “I was very confident about my teammates, and knew it was only a matter of time before they would leave their own imprints on the game.

“As for my thought processes, I don’t think they’ve changed at all. I have always given my best, regardless of whether the others are scoring runs or not. You can’t be thinking of five other guys while batting. You have to bat as best you can, and when you score runs, it all adds up.”

Although the figures he finishes with are unlikely to be surpassed for a long time, Tendulkar insists that there is no obsession with numbers. “I remember my scores, more or less,” he says. “I’m not one of those who could say, ‘My average is 52.63’. I’m not into all that. But in the back of my mind, I know how much I average. To a certain extent I would say that the average indicates a batsman’s quality.” After 114 Tests and 9,470 runs, Tendulkar’s average is a spectacular 57.39.

And his assessment of Dravid’s development into the world’s most consistent batsman bears no trace of faint praise. “He has done very well. He’s worked hard for it. His mental toughness is phenomenal, he’s a very talented and big-hearted person who loves a challenge. His success doesn’t surprise me.”

This appears a golden era of batsmanship. Around the world, players are reeling off big score after big score — be it Lara, Matthew Hayden, Dravid, Michael Vaughan or Tendulkar — leading to suggestions that bowling standards have dipped sharply. Not so, believes Tendulkar. “I don’t think the quality of bowling has declined,” he says. “We have (Muttiah) Muralitharan and Warne, both with over 500 wickets. And then you have Anil (Kumble) with nearly