26 August, 2000

No cricket today, guys -- for one thing, I've done a column for the cricket page (http://www.rediff.com/cricket/index.html) and for another, I find my thoughts taken up by two different performers, and a different sport.

When they first burst on the public imagination, they had this in common with helium, that they could fill you and make you fly. High.

They could send you soaring on the wings of pride.

They were lionised, feted, fussed over, made much of. Articles were written, and not just in the Indian newspapers either, of how they had come on the scene like a gust of fresh air into the depths of a murky, musty cave.

I recall, during the US Open 1999, reading an article in a States-side newspaper about how Leander Paes and Mahesh Bhupathi, by their charisma and their skill, their joie de vivre and the sheer passion they brought to their play, had opened up tennis to a whole new audience. A young audience, comprising largely of expat Indians who flocked to the tennis stadia of the world to watch the two young men perform.

They set themselves goals. A tour title, they said in 1998, and they grabbed a handful. A Slam, they said in 1999, and they got two, plus two other final placings. We want to beat the Woodies, they said, and suddenly, the seemingly invincible Australians began to look human again, and were hailing the Indians as their natural heirs.

The world number one slot this year, they promised us -- and they delivered.

And at the end of an incredible year, it looked like this was just the beginning. Surely, as their skills matured, and their confidence soared, the two young men would plant the Indian flag higher than it had ever flown before?

But no -- the divorce came before the honeymoon was over.

I've listened in on, been part of, many debates on just what caused the split. Some said there was a romantic angle to the story -- that both had fallen for the same girl. Others, that their respective fathers, each seeking to be top dog in the Indian tennis world, were using their children to achieve those selfish ends. Still others, that it was nothing more, or less, than ego pure and simple.

Pure and simple? The truth, I've learnt in time, is rarely pure. And never simple.

Perhaps the real story behind their split will be never known, except to the two themselves. Almost certainly, that story will be never told.

One thing, though, is certain -- they have learnt a lesson. A very bitter one. Each thought he could upstage the other -- after all, were they not ranked number one and two in doubles in the world? So each figured he could team with any other partner, and still work miracles.

Eight months of misery resulted. Eight months of watching lesser pairs hog the limelight. Eight months that hit them in their pride, and their pocket -- the two most vulnerable spots, for a sportsman.

Now they've learnt. That independently, they don't rate -- but together, they create a chemistry which is magical.

I've just got through editing and uploading a story on their reunion. A story that says Leander Paes and Mahesh Bhupathi will walk out onto the Flushing Meadows court in tandem.

That raises visions. Of how they will yell. And pump fists. And butt chests. And lift each other over the rough bits.

And the stands will again be full of colour and light, as effervescent Indians turn out to support their own.

Perhaps they will, yet again, produce one of their dream runs, leaving reputations tattered in their wake. More probably, seeing as how they are just getting back together -- having to overcome, in the process, injuries both mental and physical -- they will lose.

But I couldn't care less. They are together again. And here sits at least one Indian fan who can't seem to stop smiling with joy.

Prem

Meanwhile, don't forget to check out our Cricket home page: http://www.rediff.com/cricket/index.html

And the sports home page: http://www.rediff.com/sports/sporhom1.htm

There's lots of good stories in there. Have fun, and here's to a great weekend -- see you guys Monday.

Mail Cricket Editor