The Star We Don't Know

Indian cricket's ultimate outsider is a contradictory, complex figure, obscured from view by his own choice. The only thing we know about MS Dhoni for sure is that he will likely always be unknowable

Days in Ranchi have the feel of one long afternoon. Though a state capital, the city fulfils the description "khaliboredopahar" (empty boring afternoon) that the poet Gulzar used in a song about escape from a small town into the bigger world.

The commerce of the city is centred on one road, called Main Road, in shops handed down from one generation to the next. In one of these shops you can find the stories ofMS Dhoni's empty boring afternoons before his journey into the big world.

Paramjit Singh, one of many Sikh businessmen on Main Road, owns this shop. He wears a turban and a beard, but his jokes are Bihari, his diction is Bihari, and his sensibility is Bihari. He has a Bihari nickname too, Chhotu bhaiyya. "Chhotu" means kid, "bhaiyya" means older brother.

Chhotu bhaiyya runs Prime Sports, a small sports goods store. It is more than just that, though. Chhotu bhaiyya's friends treat it as anadda, a place to sit and shoot the breeze. Nobody smokes but endless rounds of tea are ordered, withdhuskas(a local fried snack made of rice and chickpea flour) andshinghadas(the Bengali version of samosas). If you need a railway ticket urgently, chances are someone here will make a call to a friend who is a friend of a booking clerk. If a kid comes to buy cricket equipment, chances are Chhotu bhaiyya knows which tournament he played last week, and will ask how he did before going ahead with the sale. You can spend hours here without drinking tea or eating snacks, just listening to stories.

Dhoni was one of the kids whose performances Chhotu bhaiyya took an interest in. Mahi they called him, not Maahi as people do now. Paramjit and Dhoni played for the same club. Mahi was the shy boy who bicycled to practice with his kitbag tied to the handlebar. By the time he was 17 or 18, his heavy hitting had become famous in Ranchi and he was earning a cricketing stipend from Central Coalfields Limited. Cricket had only just begun to look like a career option. Until then, according to Keshab Ranjan Banerjee, his school coach, who encouraged Dhoni to move from goalkeeping to wicketkeeping, Dhoni saw cricket just as a means of getting into Delhi University or a college elsewhere.

Cricket, basketball, badminton and football - Dhoni didn't play to become popular. You couldn't tell from his quiet demeanour in high school that he was the best sportsman around. Nor was he consumed by sport. He hardly watched cricket on TV. He didn't sleep with a bat beside him, didn't want to emulate anyone. Cricket just happened to him one fine day, when Banerjee asked if he would like to keep wicket. Cricket season was four months away. Four months later Banerjee had forgotten about the conversation but Dhoni was there on time. "Sir, I want to practise keeping."

For a son of a pump operator at Metallurgical and Engineering Consultants, cricket - and batting - was an expensive pursuit. However, once his hitting began to get noticed, those around him realised he was too good to not be afforded bigger opportunities. Chhotu bhaiyya knew a thing or two about Punjabi persuasiveness and got him a basic contract with a Jalandhar manufacturing company, BAS, for equipment.

You couldn't tell from Dhoni's quiet demeanour in high school that he was the best sportsman around. He hardly watched cricket on TV. He didn't sleep with a bat beside him, didn't want to emulate anyone

Early in 2001, Dhoni was selected to represent East Zone in the Duleep Trophy. He had been looking forward to playing it because Sachin Tendulkar was available for the tournament. Except, nobody knew Dhoni had been selected. The Bihar Cricket Association (BCA) had not forwarded the selection letter to Dhoni. Everyone who knows Dhoni is convinced it was deliberate: for no reason save that, as they like to say at Prime Sports, "If one Indian crab tries to climb out of the jar, nine others will pull it down." Dhoni would not have found out about his selection had a friend of Paramjit's in Kolkata not phoned with congratulations after reading a brief in the papers. The call came at 8pm the night before the team was to fly from Kolkata to Agartala. The day's Kolkata-bound trains had left Ranchi by then. Chhotu bhaiyya was stonewalled by the BCA, which refused to loan him a car. He raised money from a few friends - one of them, Gautam Gupta, would go on to marry Dhoni's sister - hired a taxi, and rushed Dhoni to Kolkata. The car broke down on the way, Dhoni missed his flight, and Deep Dasgupta playedin Agartala. However, Dhoni did travelto Punefor the team's next match, as 12th man, and watched Tendulkar lead West Zone to a big win.

Steady progress over the next three years earned Dhoni a spot in the India A side that played in Kenya. The tri-series was televised, and Chhotu bhaiyya recorded it on his old VCR so that they could watch when Dhoni came back. He has clippings of every article Dhoni was mentioned in, from a brief to a feature, Hindi and English. The collection, though, ends when Dhoni became an India player. It's almost as if a chapter of Dhoni's life ends there.

Chhotu bhaiyya, Banerjee and others don't know Dhoni anymore. They can't tell you what makes him laugh, what concerns him, what his political views or favourite movies are, who his friends or enemies are, what his business interests are. If they don't read the newspapers, they won't know when Dhoni is in town. Chhotu bhaiyya and Dhoni have not spoken in years. Once, in 2008, Dhoni came to the store, but was mobbed and had to seek refuge in the loft - three-feet high - with his tea andshinghadas.