The MSD Factor

Post 2nd day of April, 2011, a fresh debate has been making the rounds- whether Mahendra Singh Dhoni (call him Mahi, MSD or Captain Cool) is the best cricket captain of India. That, to me, is a trivial issue to be indulged in. The explicit fact that emerges out of Team India’s Cricket World Cup triumph under his stewardship is that the man has certainly got guts to make tough calls, manoeuvre his moves and lead by example. But that does not, in any way, make him superior than the game itself or point towards his one man show during the tournament. He has constantly challenged the limits of the game and got better with progression. Winning the T20 championship (in 2007) was the real big boost MSD received. That was the initial spark needed to ignite the passion within the team, realize individual strengths, accept and work upon problem areas and focus on the ultimate objective. What followed next was an uprising in Indian cricket. The team which was heavily dependent upon senior players to do the trick got a fresh bunch of promising cricketers who started performing consistently.

8 years back, the present senior team members were part of the squad that made it to the World Cup final but got a terrible thrashing in the hands of the in-form Australian side. This time round, self belief, confidence, attitude and willpower were evident in every outing. Plus, the young guns added that extra zing that was pivotal to the success.

To start off being the captain of the side, Dhoni had the burden to continue the good work that Sourav Ganguly was doing during his tenure. There is no denying the fact that he got some of the gifted players under his belt. But it was crucial to get the best out of them. And he exactly did that. He instilled confidence in out-of-form players by giving them fair chances to showcase their talents, lent his ears to everyone’s suggestions and stuck to the basics. At times, he did experiment and took the odd chances but rode his luck to emerge with flying colours.

Team India started off as favourites for the 2011 World Cup going by the analysis of their prior series (a reasonable success rate) and also due to the fact that they were playing at home. Dhoni was under a lot of pressure because the team had to maintain its winning streak in front of the home crowd, win the cup (for the country as well as for the legendary Sachin Tendulkar) and discard the fact that the host country has never lifted the cup.


Though we won the opening match against Bangladesh, it exposed loopholes in our bowling attack. The same bowling attack almost let us down in the match against England, but fortunately it ended in a draw. Against the minnows, Ireland and Netherlands, we had batting collapses but Yuvraj Singh’s handy knocks came to the rescue. We went down to South Africa despite scoring 300-plus runs. The bowling finally clicked in the match against West Indies, and we found ourselves in the knock out stage. It was an uphill task and needed each of the playing eleven to put in his very best. It was upto Mahi to bind the team as a cohesive unit, learn from the past mistakes and back each and every member. The team peaked at the right moment and crossed hurdles one after the other. We excelled in all the departments of the game to get the better of Australia and Pakistan. In the final match against Sri Lanka, we were three wickets down for 100-odd runs chasing 275. We were in a spot of bother. An out-of-form Dhoni (best score of 38 throughout the tournament) walked into the middle promoting himself up the batting order (ahead of the inform Yuvraj Singh). He, alongwith Gautam Gambhir, scripted one of the best match winning innings of his life. The winning runs came from Dhoni’s bat, that too, a big six, and Captain Cool ended his World Cup campaign in style, on a real high note (scoring unbeaten 91 runs and being adjudged the Man of the Match). He deservingly went on to conquer the cup for us after 28 long years.

Overnight, the spotlight fell on Mahi who not only led the team from front but also showed the world that if there is determination and self belief, it is possible to do the impossible. Having said that, we must acknowledge the crucial contributions from each and every player; also we cannot overlook the vital roles played by coach Gary Kirsten, psychologist Paddy Upton and, of course, the support staff. Dhoni has never over-reacted to any situation or gone berserk when the team was cornered in tough situations. He has simply followed his instincts and deployed available resources to the optimum level. MSD has always called a spade a spade. And on that eventful night, he was no exception. He spoke his heart out- "I took a quite few decisions tonight, if we hadn't won I would have been asked quite a few questions.....That pushed me and motivated to do well. The pressure had got to me in the previous games....I had a point to prove to myself....." He certainly proved a critical point to himself that went on a long way to establish his credentials not only as an outstanding sportsman but also as an exceptional individual. Fortune does favour the brave but the pre-requisite for that is you need to have that daring temperament. Time and again, MSD has earned his fortune by dint of his courage. Whether Dhoni and his men will be able to continue this glorious run is again a debate of sorts but the name of Mahendra Singh Dhoni will certainly inspire each and everyone to emulate his way of thinking and attitude.

The Mad Rush & Aroma Of The Bazaars

As soon as the train entered the Noida City Centre station, people became impatient and hasty and quickly started forming groups. The groups were positioned according to the doors of the train. Everyone was looking to grab a seat in the peak hour rush. My friend Preetesh however informed that it was not the ‘ideal’ peak hour rush, and that I was to witness it at Rajiv Chowk. I could not make out the ‘threshold’ for the rush he referred to compared to what I was witnessing at that moment. The train stopped and the groups started jostling. The doors opened, and as it happens in non-metro Indian trains (without automatic doors), external passengers fought their way forcibly into the train without even waiting for their internal counterparts to disembark. This caused a massive hullabaloo- a mini-stampede, few slangs exchanged and some isolated quarrels. Since Preetesh, my brother and I were standing in the front row of one of the groups, we could manage to take seats. The compartment soon became pretty much crowded, and my first Delhi Metro ride kicked off in fashion. The train made its way through the flyover amidst beautiful residential colonies, numerous sectors and pockets and finally reached Rajiv Chowk where we were to change for our ultimate destination, Chawri Bazaar. We scampered our way to the exit door but had a hard time finding our way out. The same internal-external conflict was visible. Very soon we got a push from behind and discovered ourselves out of the train. The doors were about to close and hit us but we managed a close shave. Once I got out of the train, I saw numerous people rushing in different directions and jam packed escalators; as if everyone was running short of time or was desperate to catch the last train available in this world.

Up next, we had to line up for one more challenging entry into the connecting train for Chawri Bazaar. Here it seemed a bit disciplined with barricades in the platform around the doors of the stopping train and security officials cordoning off each entry point. Rajiv Chowk being one of the busiest stations and junctions was aided with these facilities. This train arrived, and people started pouring out- just like someone having overeaten was vomiting out. Again we got a thrust from the back and entered the already crowded train, struggled our way into the middle and quickly caught hold of one of the hanging danglers lest we fell down or stamped on someone’s shoes. Just a couple of stops and we reached Chawri Bazaar.

We climbed upstairs and came out of the station to find ourselves in puraani (old) Delhi— sparse lanes, traditional businesses, aged buildings, small utility shops, food stalls, roadside vendors and steady state of affairs. We boarded a three-sitter rickshaw, and made our way through those slim lanes infested with so many people and events happening here and there. I had the back view being the pillion rider facing the opposite side. There were faces at every nook and corner and something or the other taking place— someone laughing loud over his mobile phone while speaking, someone toiling hard to carry heavy merchandise boxes over his head, someone abusing his fellows, while someone simply watching the proceedings. I continuously stared at those people while our rickshaw got stuck in the middle. There was activity all around— traders selling their wares of trade, buyers weighing their options, food stall owners trying their level best to preserve the hygiene in their ‘open’ food on display, a beggar collecting alms, school children making their way back home and few policemen chatting over tobacco. I noticed a couple of monkeys in the overhead electric wire on the rampage making their way into someone’s balcony.

We got down at Jama Masjid and entered Gali Kababian— the famous lane of kabab restaurants. There were restaurants lined up one after the other, all claiming to be big shots in the field of kababs and Mughlai cuisine. However, we knew beforehand that Karim’s and Al Jawahar were the best in business when it came to Mughlai food. We decided to enter Karim’s and savor our taste buds. Established in 1913, the ancestors of the founder of Karim’s were chefs of the Mughal dynasty and were known to serve the Mughal emperors. The seating occupancy inside the restaurant just went on to prove the goodwill Karim’s possessed. We had to wait for a moment for people to finish off their meals and vacate the seats for us. A scrumptious lunch consisting of Chicken Jehangiri, Mutton Korma and Roti made the day for us. It satisfied us to the core of our hearts. Tutti frutti ice cream with freshly cut fruits on the top was the icing on the cake. By the time we finished off the ice cream, we were fully contended, on seventh heaven.

It was time to get back home and gear ourselves up for the metro rail ride. But there was no sign of fatigue within us; rather an indomitable spirit rejuvenated our minds. Some invaluable memories and unforgettable scenes formed our key takeaways from the express tour.