The images associated with M.S. Dhoni are neatly split between adrenaline highs and a mesmeric sense of calm. Remember April 2, 2011? Sri Lankan Nuwan Kulasekara is hoisted for a World Cup winning six, ecstasy radiates from Mumbai’s Wankhede Stadium, spills over Marine Drive, and envelops an entire nation and the Indian diaspora.
Cut to the man, and all we get is the skipper letting the patriarch Sachin Tendulkar relish the limelight. Dhoni walks behind and you wouldn’t realise that he has just played a nerveless innings in a tense pursuit. The man from Ranchi and his zen-state is a known template in cricket.
Despite a blockbuster movie on him, there are many layers waiting to be unearthed about Dhoni. It is a challenge that Bharat Sundaresan, one of the finest among the younger crop of cricket writers, attempts to unlock in his book The Dhoni Touch . The 203-page tome is an exercise in finding out what makes Jharkhand's universal hero remain an iceberg while the fires rage around him.
Mahi from Ranchi
Clues are sought from his childhood in Ranchi where he stayed at the MECON staff quarters while his father worked as a pump operator. Friends are nudged to open up about their Mahi. A Fauji (Army) buddy is sought to share his knowledge about Dhoni’s fixation with the men in uniform and guns.
Brand consultants and ad film-makers are probed about the commercial angle to a rooted man, who loves his milk and abhors alcohol but doesn’t mind sipping a wee-bit when his Army friends drop in, just to make them feel at home.
Sundaresan has an easy style and for starters, the book begins with drawing parallels between Dhoni’s long mane when he made his debut over a decade ago and the author’s continuing tryst with flowing tresses. It is Sundaresan’s attempt to reiterate that appearances can be deceptive and there indeed is a ticking brain beneath all that hair. The subject too weighs in, telling his chronicler: “Don’t need to cut it fully. Layering kara le . Same length, less weight.”
Having got that quirk out of the way, the writer becomes a lizard on the wall, making nuanced word-portraits about a man, who keeps his life outside cricket, under wraps. Sundaresan leans on Seemant Lohani, Chittu to Dhoni and Captain Cool’s forever friend.
In the early part, there is an insight about Dhoni and his idol Tendulkar. One among Dhoni’s pals says: “On the field, Dhoni was always the captain. Tendulkar might suggest a bowling change, but Mahi would tell him politely that it wasn’t a great idea. But if Mahi ever saw Sachin walking towards him in a hotel lobby, he would always instinctively give way. That was out of genuine respect and he never ever was faking it.”
Captain Cool
It is fascinating to learn how a small-town boy grew up to rub shoulders with the world’s best and earned respect. Keshav Banerjee, Dhoni’s first cricket coach, who lured a lad obsessed with football to don wicket-keeping gloves, says: “He realised that the more tense you are, the more nervous you get and your performance gets affected. He employs the same mindset to everything in life.”
There are endearing bits about Dhoni’s father Paan Singh, worried about his son’s dalliance with cricket, and yet keeping an affectionate parental gaze through the ground’s fence. Sundaresan taps into Chottu-bhaiya, who still runs a sports goods shop in Ranchi, where a young Dhoni used to hang out. “He knows how to live in a palace and also in a small room,” is Chottu’s pithy observation.
Respect for the forces
The World Cup winning leader’s love for bikes and a fondness for dogs are well-known but there is another facet to him, which is often understated. Dhoni has reverence for the armed forces, especially those stationed in border outposts. His friend Col. Vembu Shankar recalls the diverse ways in which Dhoni keeps a tab on the army.
Sundaresan writes: “Col. Shankar struggles to mask the envy in his voice when he talks about MS’s fauji WhatsApp group which he shares with his closest army friends. Dhoni shares pictures and discusses the goings-on in his life, which even the colonel isn’t always privy too.”
Meanwhile, Shankar highlights Dhoni’s grounded nature: “He will relish the jawans’ chai handed to him in a steel glass. He will barely touch the continental and English fare laid out by the officers.”
The book isn’t entirely about Dhoni the man, there is a chapter devoted to his jaw-dropping stumping skills. There are also references to those moments when the mask slipped, and a sliver of anger popped up in press conferences. And the hero-worship he lauds over in Chennai thanks to the Chennai Super Kings connect, finds space too. Sundaresan’s efforts to unravel an enigma finds summation through these words: “Despite being a paradox to the rest of the world, he has always known exactly who he is.”
The Dhoni Touch ; Bharat Sundaresan, Penguin/ Ebury Press, ₹299.
