Jaiswal and the fruits of single-minded obsession

For most Bangladeshi cricket fans, their first encounter with Yashasvi Jaiswal would have been the final of the ICC Under-19 World Cup in February, 2020. The young Indian ace was the major roadblock to Bangladesh’s first ever ICC trophy, and when he got out after scoring 88 of his side’s 177 run total, we all sighed in relief. But after his heroics in the ongoing India-England Test series, young Jaiswal has won over fans in India, Bangladesh and all over the world.

In subcontinental cricket, however, it takes more than just good performances to make rival fans fall in love with a player. Sachin Tendulkar achieved that level with his perfect technique and devotion to the game; Virat Kohli got there too, after he matured as a player and a person and fans understood his personality; Shoaib Akhtar had that fire in him that was evident for everyone who saw him play, and Kumar Sangakkara’s aura of grace and intelligence always set him apart. They were all universally adored. What puts Yashasvi Jaiswal in the same category is less of a cricketing story, and more so a story of human struggle that led to miraculous success.

A long time before Jaiswal was the poster boy of India’s youth setup, he was a ten-year-old who had decided his destiny. He left his home in Uttar Pradesh, travelled 1400 kilometres, because he knew he had to train in the legendary Azad Maidan in Mumbai if he was going to make it. Jaiswal somehow knew his destiny lay at the ground where every great cricketer to come out of Mumbai learned their craft, from Sunil Gavaskar and Dilip Vengsarkar to Tendulkar and Rohit Sharma.

At first, he stayed with an uncle in Dadar, a northern suburb of Mumbai. But Jaiswal felt that the stresses of the Mumbai commute would hinder his development as a cricketer, so he found another way. Kalbadevi, an area in Mumbai that is just a 20-minute walk from Azad Maidan, is where Jaiswal found a dairy shop owner who agreed to give him a place to sleep in exchange for menial labour. But that didn’t work out either, because Jaiswal was still just 11 years old, and cricket was the only thing that mattered. Work was only getting in the way.

At 11, Jaiswal thought with the clarity many adults would be jealous of, and made a decision that took courage only children have. He realised he needed to be close to cricket to flourish the way he wanted to, and found a roof over his head in the ground staff’s tent in Azad Maidan. For three years, he stayed with the ground staff, played cricket right outside his “home”, and sometimes sold pani puri (a popular street food in the Indian subcontinent) outside the ground to help out the vendors. Oftentimes, the players he played alongside would be his customers.

Jaiswal’s story, if it wasn’t clear already, is special. And all special stories have a touch of magical happenstance. Jwala Singh, a retired local cricketer turned coach, saw Jaiswal play, found out about his living conditions, and decided to help. He took him into his own home, fed him and gave him a place to sleep, and this was all the support Jaiswal needed.

The young man’s talent shone through the ranks in Mumbai’s local cricket. From a school-level Haris Shield match where he scored a triple century to making it to the Mumbai and Indian age group teams, his career trajectory shot through the roof within years. At 17, he made his debut in first-class cricket. At 19, he was playing for the Rajasthan Royals in the Indian Premier League. Just before that, he made the world take notice of him during the under-19 World Cup where he became player of the series as part of the runners-up team.

Jaiswal’s batting can be described using a lot of flowery language, but words can only do so much heavy lifting when what the eyes see has so much depth in it. His batting is silky smooth, modern yet technically sound, and he scores runs with a vicious tenacity. Scoring two double centuries in a career spanning seven Tests is incredible, the fact that one of these double tons was in the second innings of a crucial Test match is beyond comprehension, especially when the man–or rather the boy–who achieved this is only 22 years of age.

We may remain astonished at what Jaiswal has achieved already, but one gets the feeling that when he left home at ten years of age, he knew with steely determination what he had set out to achieve. Otherwise, why would he have done it?