Leander Paes talks to Forbes India about tennis, life and happiness
It’s surreal. We’re sitting in the business lounge of a 5-star hotel at 2 a.m., and to the accompaniment of the genteel tinkle of cutlery being laid out for the breakfast buffet by well-trained staff, talking about happiness.
Let me rephrase that. It’s surreal to me. This environment. Leander Paes, on the other hand, is at home, at ease, radiating charm and good cheer.
We’d been juggling schedules for a few days, before discovering, with some relief, that we’re both owls. And so, after a day that started with dropping his daughter off at school at a lark-like 7.30 a.m., and a choc-a -block calendar that ended with a formal dinner, he glides into the coffee shop where we’ve been waiting. It’s nigh-on 1 a.m., but he’s fresh, glowing, relaxed, and looking like he could go five sets right here, right now.
While Dinesh and I finish our coffee, he gets one sent out to his driver, who, he points out, has had an even longer day. And then we move on down the road, to his favourite haunt, where they all know his name. He greets the scattered staff you see in 5-star night-times, asks how they are. And then, finally, we sink into deep couches, and he turns the full focus of his attention back to us.
We talk about his Olympian parents, both of whom played for India, his dad in a medal-winning hockey team, his mum in basketball.
“I’ve had the most amazing relationship with my parents. My dad is my best friend. I learnt later that he’d decided that his first son was going to be a super-athlete. When I was in my crib he had me doing crunches! He actually had on top of me different coloured balls so I could differentiate between left brain and right brain—he already had a scientific methodology about guiding me into this path. One of his greatest gifts was that he was always on the pulse of when to let up, give me breathing space and when to push hard because I could take more.
“Football is, was and will always be my first love. My lifelong dream has been to walk out of an underground locker-room into a World Cup final, confetti everywhere, and a hundred-thousand people chanting, Lionheart! When I was 12, I got a scholarship to PSV Eindhoven. They asked me to give up my Indian passport; I said no, I’m Indian through and through.
“When I gave up my soccer dream, my dad said, now what are you going to do? I said, tennis? And he chuckled. He said you don’t even know how to play tennis properly! I said, find me the best tennis academy and in a year I’ll tell you whether I can do this or not. He took me down to Chennai [to the Britannia Amritraj Tennis Academy], stayed with me for two days, settled me into my room.
“And he wrote me a 100-page letter saying how mum and he were moving on their own paths and how they continue to care for each other and love us kids more than anything in the world. ‘But now, son, you’re a young man and you need to stand on your own two feet and this is your path.’ I read some of the letter while he was there and never once questioned him because I had tremendous belief in my family. And then I embarked upon becoming a man and tennis was my vehicle. I was 12.
“I have amazing parents who have belief in my talents, who have taught me as a young boy how to be a student of life. And then I’ve had amazing coaches and teachers who’ve taught me to be a student of athleticism, of tennis. Now I’m a student of parenting; my daughter teaches me. To me, the journey of Leander has always been of a man who continues to learn.”
And the pressures of the pro circuit for over 20 years, of stardom?
“It’s a lonely life. I think the baggage of celebrity is very tough, very hard. But, I’m very aware of what I do to people when I’m in a room, on the phone, talking one-on-one. I’m very aware, when I’m in a stadium, of the frenzy fans can have. But to me, myself? I’ve never been a star. I’ve just been Leander, that same student. The celebrity is there — not the person: I’m talking about the emotions other people feel — you can see it, use it as a potent vehicle to move people and motivate them.
“Ever since I was a boy I’ve had people say, no, you can’t: ‘You have a mitral valve problem; no you can’t.’ ‘You’re too short; you can’t.’ ‘You don’t possess a backhand; you can’t.’ ‘You don’t have money to travel; no.’ ‘Indians? World-beaters? Not gonna happen.’ The one thing they never ever made the mistake of telling me was that I don’t have the killer instinct or passion to be what I want to be.”
There have been other tough times. “The first hour my dad gave me that letter to read. Sleeping in a locker room all night. The first hour Hesh and I had differences. It’s always been that first hour; it’s a little confusing; just understanding what cards you’ve been dealt. It’s the interpretation of the obstacle, understanding it, then finding a solution. An instrument plays better when it is weathered. God knows, my soul, body and heart have been weathered quite a bit.”
(This story appears in the 20 January, 2012 issue of Forbes India. To visit our Archives, click here.)