Sachin Tendulkar [Images], of course, immediately poses a problem. Being fabber than the other three -- and the reason their now-popular nickname has capital letter status in the first place -- it's hard to pigeonhole him as any one of the moptops. As a personality type, he's closest to Paul McCartney -- perenially loved, the most consistent of songwriters, the cute one, the one whose songs end up being the most talked about, the finest singer in the band, the one making audiences scream the most -- but Tendulkar can't just be one of the boys. Thus we make him an uber-Paul: Imagine Paul and his terrific bass guitar skills doubled up with Jimi Hendrix's flying fingers of fury. Greatest axeman ever? Of course, in either form of the guitar. And boy, does he weild a heavy one.
Saurav Ganguly [Images] slots himself -- rather debatably, as always -- in as John Lennon. Clearly the narcissist of the bunch, he's responsible for tremendously offside lyrics and the uncanny ability to constantly surprise everyone involved. It's easy to see Ganguly court Lennon-like controversy by calling the Four 'bigger than Jesus,' (or Waugh) and just as easy to see him argue with any of the other boys. Yet it is his partnership with Sachin's Paul that has taken the band to hitherto unscaled heights, and thanks to his fieriness and his fervency -- not to mention his temper and his tantrums -- a large part of the paying audience loves him most of all. Greg Chappell [Images] might have done a Mark David Chapman on his career, but an overwhelming comeback sees him better than ever. And then there's the way he waltzes down the track to lift those psychedelic skiers. Oh yeah, he makes us clap our hands -- or rattle our jewellery -- real loud.
VVS Laxman is the band's George Harrison -- and not just because he's younger than the other three. The man is seeped in quiet modesty like the late George, a sober virtuoso genius capable of crafting something quite extraordinary in a way that made audiences and opposition felt like he'd sneaked something in. With wrists of silk, he handled all manner of blade -- from ukulele to sitar, besides his own 12-string specialty stalk -- with magical panache, and set new standards in both scorecards and pure artistry. Once asked why he doesn't smile much, Harrison had quipped, 'It'll hurt my lips.' Laxman too bares his teeth sparingly, more than making up for it by giving us enough to grin at.
Rahul Dravid [Images] is not Ringo Starr. Sure, the man is better than anybody else at holding a steady beat and one would likely trust him to drum for one's life more than either of the other three, but Rahul's definitely not the clown of the band, and rarely does he explode in a fit of lovely whimsy. He's also the only member of the quartet who can head to any other team and fit right in, no questions asked -- no nonsense, no frills, no fuss. And while he's consistent to a staggering extreme, there is a lack of beauty in the way he maintains the steady beat, him toiling and thudding -- and driving in the last nail -- akin to a master carpenter. Dravid sweats buckets to keep the rhythm just as steady as needed, but despite the showy drum solos, remains a largely unglorified hero: a flawless sessions musician who can play with anyone, anytime.
