It's been 90 minutes since Delhi when it arrives, Najafgarh, leaving behind a string of rickety suburbs in its wake. Instantly it imparts the feel of a place permanently under construction. The dust and the noise have a viscous, embracing quality and most surface area is claimed by gravel, potholes or bicycles. Camels shuffle about with enormous loads of wheat upon their backs, testament to a settlement which serves as grainhouse to 40 surrounding villages. Nothing in this environment suggests it is a nursery, of cricket or anything else. Somehow Virender Sehwag rose out of here; somehow he found a way and became the most exhilarating one of them all.

Nothing in the Sehwag genes, too, suggested that a Test cricketer was in the offing. The father, Krishan Kumar Sehwag, was a farmer in Haryana who travelled east in the early 1970s with his band of brothers. They set up a business, buying and selling grain; and latterly a flour-mill which still runs.

Then, after two daughters, arrived a son whose talent was anything but run-of-the-mill. Virender played cricket and more cricket, and he played with the big boys while his peers fooled about among themselves. Vinod, the younger son, frequently brought his brother's bag home from school, frequently did his homework for him, and frequently fought with him for never losing his wicket when the two played.

Local teachers sensed something special and despatched Virender to AN Sharma, who ran a free coaching scheme at a government school in Vikaspuri, some 45 minutes away. After two months of sufficiently satisfactory practice, he enrolled in the school itself. The new routine meant a 7 am departure and a return at 8.30 pm, once classes and cricket had been dealt with.

Things were looking up, and so, while constructing a new house, the father left enough space in the driveway for Virender to have a fruitful knock. A turning point came when Virender joined the Madras Cricket Club and the coach, the late Satish Sharma, took him under his wing. Sharma became a mentor, a friend and a guide, and the man who Virender attributes all his success to.

It was the beginning of a spectacular climb. Young Virender would now play matches virtually every day and it involved getting up at 4.30 am to take the 5.30 bus and report at 7. Bus number 783 became a good friend for more than two years. Then, upon entering the Ranji team in 1998, Virender bought a scooter, and upon first playing for India in 1999, a car.

Sometimes he would play two games a day. Life was tough but with fun and meaning. He broke into the India under-19s and soon into the Delhi senior team. A hundred arrived on Ranji debut and Virender was becoming the talk of the town; another century came on Test debut and he had become the talk of all India.

Clearly there was going to be no looking back now. The father, who had only a nominal interest in the game, had to be brought up to speed with the rules. When Virender had walked off upon being declared lbw against Shoaib Akhtar on international debut at Mohali, his father was puzzled. "The stumps are still standing, nobody has taken a catch – why is he leaving?" Now, the dilemmas are more evolved: which one is Sachin, which is Virender; in the bat logo lies the answer.

Najafgarh is understandably delighted, and it's all getting too much. When Virender was blazing away to a hundred against England in the Champions Trophy, about 70 people from the friendly neighbourhood, and a television channel, invited themselves into the Sehwag living room to share the joy. Out on the street, Vinod is relentlessly asked to produce his elder brother at Chunnu's birthday party or Munnu's prize-distribution, and those acquaintances who once thought Virender was a waster now speak of the faith they never lost. Suddenly, Najafgarh wasn't all that nondescript.

For the full article, get your copy of Wisden Asia Cricket, November 2002

Rahul Bhattacharya is an assistant editor with Wisden Asia Cricket and Wisden.com in India

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