5 reasons why Sachin: A Billion Dreams did complete justice to Sachin Tendulkar

“Mai khelega”

These two words from a shaken 16-year old in 1989, having just copped a rip-snorter flush on his nose, embodied the spirit of a journey that, in the next 24 years, would become synonymous with an entire country’s love for cricket. Amidst all of life’s crests and troughs, unparalleled success and gut-wrenching failure, Sachin Tendulkar soldiered on to do what he was born to do: bat. With the release of Sachin: A Billion Dreams, 28 years after he first strapped his pads for India, the world has got to witness his journey on the big screen from first to last, reliving his life’s unmatchable memories, all with him by their side. Here are five reasons why the movie did complete justice to the man himself:

#5 It touches upon all the important milestones in his career

To condense a 40-year roller coaster journey into a 140-minute film is no mean task. And to actually include almost everything from a glittering career so celebrated is an act worth complimenting. Right from his childhood days, struggling but still surviving the tough rungs of life as a budding cricketer, to his final game and life beyond it, Sachin The Film encompasses almost everything noteworthy. The six World Cups, culminating with the all important one in 2011, the Desert Storm of 1998, the 35th hundred in 2005, the mammoth 200 in 2010: everything finds a spot. So do the people who helped him become what he did. The role of his wife Anjali is incomparable, and she rightfully holds prominence in the movie, along with their kids and the rest of the family.

#4 It shows unseen facets of his life

The life of an icon as celebrated as Sachin is unlikely to have much hidden from those who religiously followed each and every move of his. However, the movie still manages to distillate facets of his life that not many people would have been aware of.

From his early, notorious side as a kid to his evolution to a dedicated cricketer; his superstitious, religious side and the fun, quirky side, all is portrayed like never before.

His love for Disco Dancer’s Yaad Aa Raha Hai, the cheerful reunions with his band of guy friends, his aversion to greetings before going out to bat, and the inside of his pious kitbag, all peel off a different layer of Sachin’s life, one that was untouched for the majority.

#3 All the footage is seamlessly interwoven with Sachin’s narration

From a timid Sachin nervously interacting with Tom Alter in 1989, to a 40-year-old giving his riveting, final speech in 2013, the makers ensured that the documentary was lit up with prominent match footage from all his marquee games, quality and copyright challenges notwithstanding.

Theatres actually turn into stadiums when Sachin punches Devon Malcolm across Manchester in 1990, puts Andrew Caddick in his place with a monstrous maximum in 2003, or smothers Nuwan Kulasekara with the straightest of drives in 2011. All the matches, so wonderfully edited, maybe digitally remastered and enhanced, bring an extra dimension to the story.

It has the familiar, squeaky voice of Sachin, complemented well by the likes of Harsha Bhogle, Boria Majumdar and so many of Sachin’s teammates. You don’t need a seasoned actor or stunning locales when you already have Sachin at the helm of affairs. This movie runs its own course, right from the late 1970s to the present day.

Sneak peeks into his personal life, complete with video grabs of him with his family over the years, portray the not-so-familiar side of him perfectly.

#2 It doesn’t shy away from showing the controversial side

Sachin was part of the Indian team through its most testing times, and he doesn’t shy away from touching upon all those passages in his life. Despite being the epicentre of Indian cricket then, Sachin managed to stay like a lotus in muck throughout the ghastly cloud of match-fixing. He expresses his disbelief at what had transpired then; a 25-year-old had given his 100% for India till then, and couldn’t digest that others hadn’t done the same.

The plight of the 1996 semi-finals in Eden Gardens, the captaincy conundrum and his shock sacking, reinstating and resigning, Sachin recollects it all. He concedes he felt really bad after getting discharged from the captaincy, for no one had even called him up to inform him. The Greg Chappell era, and his circus in the lead up to the 2007 World Cup, formed one of the darkest periods in Indian cricket. Tendulkar isn't mum about it, and instead explains elaborately how there was mistrust and zero unity in the team.

All these things add more depth to the storyline and make the presentation more compelling.

#1 It deals with emotions, real emotions

For those who experienced India in the 1990s, Sachin wasn’t merely a player; he was an emotion. As the nation grew up post the ‘91 economic liberalisation, tiny Sachin became a mascot, personifying their hopes in flesh and blood on a cricket pitch, with a bat in hand.

You feel the agony when he narrates the pain of his broken bones: the elbow and toe hurt as if they are yours.

And the demise of his father, a harrowing setback to a 25-year-old in his prime, burned a hole in our hearts, both then and now. Despite his exalted status, Sachin felt the pain, and you almost felt it too.

The World Cup dream, one that he so religiously chased and poignantly described, and the actual recollection of the night from 2011, fill you with immense gratification – despite the fact that you’ve watched countless reruns of it. It was both his, and ours.

Until we manage to create a time machine, cinema can help us re-live what has passed us, and what we wish to see. I wish the curly-haired teenager re-appears and says those two magical words once again.

“Mai Khelega”.