As expected, this is a eulogy, but there are areas that seem too sterilised to be interesting
As senior Test batsman Cheteshwar Pujara announces his retirement from all forms of cricket with the national team, The Diary of a Cricketer’s Wife, a book by his wife Puja (with Namita Kala), detailing a plethora of small and large personal details about their courtship and married life, becomes pertinent. This book brings to the fore the many personal aspects of a cricketer who had an illustrious Test career for over a decade and played stellar roles in several big wins for India, including back-to-back Border-Gavaskar Trophy series victories in Australia.
The book throws the spotlight on a man who has played 103 Tests and scored 7,195 runs at an average of 43.60 and has logged 19 hundreds. Those are impressive numbers, but Puja Pujara’s focus is a soft, pleasant glow that shows a man not incandescent in hubris, but as humble despite such achievements.
Written by his wife — the language is polished and smooth — it is a eulogy, of course, and one expects it to be so. But there are areas that seem somewhat sterilised; so clean that the sub-caption “A Very Unusual Memoir” loses hue. Whether this script is endorsement agnostic is a matter of debate, but too much symmetry often whitewashes interesting accentuations.
Theirs being an arranged marriage, a large part of the courtship was planned to the minute by their respective families. There was a pleasant “inclination at first sight”, sort of, for Puja but when their Guruji asked whether she would want to marry him, she was sure: if her father said so, she definitely would.
Not having been a cricket aficionado — with her MBA and her job, she had been complete, in a way — she had to learn the ways of a star-wife. And she did, quickly, gobbling up details that were always on the table, then tending to his injuries and paying attention to the sports news. She describes Cheteshwar’s agony as he injured his leg, and though she quotes him, she passes on the pain to the reader with eloquence.
The immense discipline that Cheteshwar’s father inculcated in him in his childhood held him in good stead throughout his career and produced a sportsperson par excellence. Puja’s description reiterates the importance of that. Yet, the “Very Unusual” aspect doesn’t come forth: one would have expected the odd treachery, the disbelief at management’s duplicity. Somehow, if a memoir is a page-turner, it is because of the occasional lack of spit and polish.
Then, amid what she calls “the excruciating monotony of those humdrum days” it was Cheteshwar who suggested that she officially and professionally represent him. That probably was the full circle of a union, of a family that had their families as backup and of a story that has many more chapters to go.
One would be advised to go through the book — it’s a pleasant read — without expecting anything “unusual”.
The Diary of a Cricketer’s Wife
By Puja Pujara
(With Namita Kala)
HarperCollins
pp. 286; Rs.799
