Disclaimer: I am agnostic, which takes away the pain of (presumably) not realising certain feelings. It also helps/does not help (strike out whichever is not applicable) that I know zilch about physics. And taking both into consideration, I am fairly unmoved by either god particle or god’s departure, as the media (primarily social but, astoundingly, even the traditional variety) put it to call Sachin Tendulkar’s intention to retire – impending retirement is the correct phrase, though sections of even the traditional media is guilty of treating at as immediate retirement (heck, he hasn’t even retired and the obituaries and miss-you messages are trying to suck out even the last teardrop).

So why do I not get washed by a tsunami of emotions now that Tendulkar is set to retire, according to the letter released by the BCCI apparently on his behalf (again the quote-the-source-of-info line that would gone with any other report but one the media was ostensibly too moved forgot to carry in this case)?

1. Partly by the stats that helped a nation come to a standstill, as some reports noted today, over a 143-word statement of intent to retire. Over the last year –okay, just a shade over it, Tendulkar has appeared in 17 innings, including one in which he did not bat. Since the Test match in Hyderabad on August 23, 2012 against New Zealand, he scored 367 runs. In those innings, he batted for over an hour but under two hours on five occasions, for 2-3 hours once, 3-4 hours once and only once did he bat for over four hours. In effect, it means I have watched Tendulkar for less than an hour on more occasions than not.
In fact, an average 17.66 minutes in the other nine innings. Would I miss someone I meet for less than 20 minutes in six out of 10 times I meet the person (especially now that he has retired from all other forms of cricket)? No sir, thank you.
 
2. And partly by the man he was – or chose to be. The avalanche of information about Tendulkar over the last 36 hours has not changed my view that he might have been the world’s best batsman (I am only a casual bystander, not an ‘expert’), could be the richest cricketer ever to grace the planet, the best thing to have come up for BCCI and Indian cricket, and must be peerless in terms of passion and love for the game, but he is hardly an interesting man otherwise – not a person who arrests your attention for long. His interviews are trite, his expressions routine, and his quotes, well, banal. Would I miss a sports person (or any person, for that matter) like that? No sir, thank you.

And tell you what, people who are today wailing apocalypse would go back to watching their game, getting frustrated about rain interruption, irritated about the commentary, smug about India’s victory, disconcerted about a player’s injury, annoyed about powercuts and generally busy with their lives to miss Tendulkar. For, at the end of the day, we are all agnostic – whether consciously, unconsciously or subconsciously.