Cheteshwar Pujara, the quintessential Test batter with a steely resolve and huge appetite for runs, will be missed

Transition is in the air and when change is inevitable, an axe is just around the corner. Just as the BCCI’s press release announcing the Indian squads (Test and ODI series) for the West Indies tour, popped up through social media and in the email inboxes of cricket writers, it was time to accept that Cheteshwar Pujara had become the sacrificial lamb. The axe was on him, and this could be the last full stop on his storied international career or a mere comma, as India’s No. 3 batter in Tests had made a comeback after an omission in the recent past.

The quest for a new-mix, be it among batters and bowlers, in the fresh World Test Championship (WTC) cycle may have forced the Indian think-tank of coach Rahul Dravid and skipper Rohit Sharma along with the selectors to plump for young talent. India’s performance has been a tale of so-near-and-yet-so-far in two WTC finals — the latest being the loss against Australia — and the added ageism factor obvious in the squad’s core group hovering around the mid-30s mark meant that a cull, even if it was partial, was in the offing.

Pujara, despite a good turn with Sussex in County cricket, didn’t exactly translate that form against old foe Australia, besides that he is 35. Interestingly, the Saurashtra batter’s Test debut was against Australia in Bengaluru in 2010 and his second-innings 72 during a successful chase marked him out as special. Unfortunately, a leg-injury scuttled his initial forays but he staged a fine comeback and has been intrinsic to India’s middle-order for more than a decade until the stutter over the last few years.

Vintage: Pujara bats during India’s 2010 Test match against Australia in Bangalore.
| Photo Credit:
Aijaz Rahi

Low profile

Billed as Dravid’s successor at No. 3, Pujara brought to the table traits that were innate to his predecessor: adhesive batting on the turf and a low-profile, avoid-the-cameras lifestyle off the field. Plus, like Dravid, Pujara stepped in with a steely resolve while also being fully aware that the crowds had trooped in mostly to see the batter stepping in one rung after him at four. For Dravid, it was Sachin Tendulkar; for Pujara, it was Virat Kohli. But both Dravid and Pujara, in their unique phlegmatic ways, had made their peace with fandom’s quirks. Interestingly, Dravid was Pujara’s colleague when the latter made his debut. And now when a seeming twilight darkens Pujara’s visage, Dravid is the coach.

With Ishant Sharma and Wriddhiman Saha being given the cold shoulder from the national team, it remains to be seen if Pujara too has been relegated to that senior players’ club. Their achievements are respected, the ‘thank you’ notes are said while an ominous whisper hangs in their ears: “hey it is time for a youngster, so move on”. They are not the first to hear it and they will not be the last as squad evolution is an inevitable process. Pujara was a unique player, a throwback to a gentler past when there was time to pause and look at the skies, rustle through silverfish-eaten books in old libraries, when the slow life was real and not a fad as it is made out to be. As cricket, driven by revenue streams, preferred the multiple avatars of Tests, ODIs and T20s, Pujara was the quintessential long-format player.

His was a style in sync with Test whites. The winnowing steps, the half-smile, the few words, the defensive shot, the leave outside off-stump, the quick single and equally those fours once his eye was in. While some of his peers were quick to embrace the frenzied underpinnings of limited-over cricket, Pujara was slotted in as a Test specialist, even if briefly the Chennai Super Kings kept him in their stables for the Indian Premier League. The pure Test batter is a near-extinct species and only Pujara largely and to some extent Joe Root have kept that club’s flag flying high.

No mean feat

To hail from Rajkot, famous for its ice-gola, and to push his claims past other stars from bigger cities, was no mean feat. And surely there is a certain cool air when Pujara is at the crease, be it as a batter or hovering as a catcher in the slips or at forward short-leg. There was never any fuss, perhaps an upturned eyebrow once in a while, and then he narrowed his gaze.

Watch the ball closely remained his attitude, be it as a willow-wielder or fielder. He played his part in India being this immovable object at home, equally he helped his team dig deep and flourish overseas, too, the last two tours of Australia being the prime examples.

Stone-walling may be the cliche linked to Pujara, as during the Ravi Shastri-Kohli regime, talk veered towards scoring rates in Tests. Relatively, when compared to Rohit Sharma or Kohli, Pujara’s rate may seem sluggish but his role was linked to being the one that papers the cracks, the essential plaster-of-paris while others proved to be splashes of colour. A batter, who can bat for time, is a priceless asset in Tests, even if we live in an era of ‘Bazball’ cricket. Pujara ticked that vital box and it wasn’t as if his 7,195 Test runs were steeped in boredom.

Teamman

These were runs scored for the team’s cause, to strengthen a total, to set up a target and to lay a base for a chase. He was the quintessential teamman with a huge appetite for runs. Not for him the limelight itch or the stardust of celebrityhood. Over the last few seasons, as his runs dried up and this again based upon his exalted standards, there was a doubt if Pujara could nail the longevity index: playing 100 Tests. He just about managed that and it is a tribute to his skill-sets and the strength he offers to the team.

Making a debut is relatively easier than surviving in a squad for long. Karun Nair, who scored a Test triple century, is out on pasture; a gritty Hanuma Vihari seems to have been forgotten though he surely has age on his side, and there are many others who haven’t lasted the distance. This is also because even if batters are seemingly the rockstars, their stay upon the pitch is a tense affair. A delivery is both an opportunity and a threat and all it takes is one mistake for the batter to return to the dressing room. Careers can unravel soon and it takes a special talent to last more than a decade and carve a unique identity.

Pure batter

Dravid, often the comparison-yardstick for Pujara, also kept wickets in ODIs during a phase when he needed that extra offering to cement his berth. Pujara, however, remained a pure batter in Test whites and that also undid him in a sense that unlike his peers, who could always lean upon an ODI or a T20 to press their case, he only had the longest format to advance his career. But being the practical man that he is, Pujara used the breaks to play County cricket in England and domestic cricket back home. ‘Line up the ball, play the appropriate stroke, repeat’, was his constant mind-voice. In a squad of flamboyant characters, he was the monk who loved his meditative stints at the crease.

As India presses ahead with a measured transition, would Pujara get another chance? Ajinkya Rahane, seemingly forgotten, has got a second wind, scored runs in the WTC final and is now the Test vice-captain. Pujara getting another chance may not be set in stone but what cannot be taken away from him are the vital runs he essayed, which will continue to glitter even if the owner of that yield prefers to be in the shadows with a shy smile. The 103 Tests are a tribute to Pujara’s sheer class and his latest tweet, just a visual of him batting in the nets, shows that his love for the craft remains strong as ever.

The wait

The Indian team may have moved on, but in domestic cricket Pujara will keep waiting for the thud of the red cherry into his broad willow. The great G.R. Viswanath was dropped after the 1983 Pakistan tour known for Imran Khan’s scintillating wickets but the maestro plied his stylish wares in First Class cricket till the 1987-88 season. Similarly, Pujara’s last word entirely belongs to him. But for now it is time to say thank you for services rendered.