Sachin farewell: After the frenzy, get ready for the nothingness

Dear West Indies team, please don’t play the party-pooper. India is throwing its biggest cricket bash and it needs you to let it last the whole five days. Sincerely, the Indian cricket fan. If you have been reading the papers or, let’s face it, simply been awake for the last few weeks, you would know about the party being thrown for Sachin Tendulkar. It is being held at home, in Mumbai. Unfortunately, all are not invited but that won’t stop his people from joining in the revels from offices, homes and local maidans. Have television, will party. Now, like all guests of honour, Tendulkar will likely stay dazed through the affair. The fans, meanwhile, are prepping to get drunk on, and by, the occasion in no small measure. And you know what that is going to lead to: The biggest hangover since, well, Hangover I (II and III were more nausea, less post-party zombiehood). [caption id=“attachment_1227465” align=“alignleft” width=“380”]  Reality will bite, fellow Sachin-ers. Getty Images[/caption] The pace may have picked up recently but the build-up to this farewell is at least a decade long: From the time the tennis elbow put a question mark on his longevity till the moment he finally popped the R-word, there has been the nagging fear that the endgame was nigh. But vehement denial allowed the wheel of hope to keep turning. And it won’t stop until it absolutely has to. Despite persistent reminders, in the shape of party favours being handed out by the BCCI, it is still not time for the fans to unbury their heads from the sand. That will only happen when the last balloon has been burst and blue streamers are all that are left on the 22 yards. Then even the most optimistic die-hard will be hard-pressed to hold out any hope. After all, cricket, unlike Formula 1, will not lend itself to a return of the king, especially a 40-plus one. Reality will bite, fellow Sachin-ers. Be prepared even as you wear the Tendulkar mask and watch the circus play out over the next five days (Again, West Indies, please?). Here’s the thing, though: For a while, the hangover will really be a sense of anticlimax — because nothing will tangibly change. The little master has ensured that. Each move over the last couple of years has led to this: The withdrawal from the Twenty20 international team – it is a younger man’s game; the retirement from one-day cricket after a long period of selective playing; the final IPL tournament; and, eventually, this. He has made it so that we have, uncomfortably, unwillingly and unwittingly, become accustomed to not having him around. But — there was always going to be a but — while he was not playing, there was, as the heroines of the rom-com movies of the 90s would put it, at least the hope of him; we had the next appearance to look forward to. This, however, is it. After the frenzy, there will only be the nothingness. And then, it will only get worse. You see, the bigger fear is not about missing Tendulkar: It is not missing him. For instance, I am worried that I will forget what it was like to have my heart racing for the entire duration of a player’s innings. That is the void only a few million will appreciate. Sceptics and scoffers can stay cynical but on their own time. Because some of us are going to wear our hearts on our sleeves. If not now, then when? The author writes on popular culture, cricket and whatever else takes her fancy. She tweets @abbykhaitan