D Gukesh’s favorite actor is Vijay Sethupathi, one of the most methodically unconventional actors in the Tamil film industry. In his best scenes, he lets the emotions rip through, without resorting to excessive theatrics. Gukesh’s celebration was similar to his favorite actor’s on-screen demeanor. An outpouring of raw, inescapable emotions, powerful but not dramatic, heart-stirring but not vague.
When Mahima arrived, that inseparable moment would forever float in her subconscious, her head falling on the board, hands folded as if Gukesh was praying. He raised his head, covered his face with his long fingers, as if the light of greatness were too heavy in his eyes. A tear fell from the corner of his eye, he wiped it away with his finger. Passers-by showered him with well-wishes. He may have little registered, living the most indescribable feeling in his life. Nothing will surpass it – not second or third or zionth.
He placed his right hand on his chest, raised it to his lips, kissed his right thumb, and prayed silently. The approval of the gods may have helped him – he is known to be intensely God-fearing and often visits the Tirupati temple before major tournaments.
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A reminder from the stewards to sign the scoresheet touched his reverie. A faint smile spread, he shook someone’s hand and cried uncontrollably again. As if this was the moment when he finally came to terms with the magnificence of his achievement. That destiny-fulfilling moment, the timeless place when life’s purpose flashes before him. All great athletes have traveled at this moment – Roger Federer, Usain Bolt, Lionel Messi, Muhammad Ali, Sachin Tendulkar.
It was the same as Federer’s first Wimbledon win, when he defeated Mark Philippous in 2003. He dropped to his knees, threw his hands in the air and wept in his chair.
The 18-year-old then did 18-year-old things. Rearrange the pieces on the board, teary but mischievous eyes, with the intensity of a teenager getting the keys to a motorbike. He also closed the pen and put it in its place. He repeats the chest-lips routine again, as one leaves the temple after his final darshan, rises from the chair that is now the throne, and throws the recognition card across his chest. He heard the roar of those gathered in the room, some of them former world champions themselves raising their hands and bowing to the cacophonous rhythm of the room. He drew up his chair—the throne—tucked it neatly under the table, bent over the board, and entered the bowels of the room.
His response was molded in the classical sporting ethos of Chennai. Celebrations are undervalued, often an afterthought even during their biggest sporting moments. His spiritual predecessor Vishi Anand embodied this spirit – Gukesh was ten times more demonstrative. You don’t see Joe Root or Steve Smith or Kane Williamson getting sent off after getting Ravi Ashwin out. Murali Vijay existed only in the form of honey-drenched square drives or glue-drenched palms on slips. Even Krishnamachari Srikkanth, for all his fireworks, was not a man to vent his emotions on the field (though he could not resist the urge for nicotine on the balcony at Lord’s after winning the 1983 World Cup).
Even after Srinivasa Venkataraghavan took his fifth wicket of the match, he would smile and pass it off as if it was no big deal. For all the bone-twisting, hip-shaking tricks in Tamil movies, their players don’t recreate the sizzle on the field.
Gukesh is also a reluctant dancer (though he’s not a total slacker). In a video shot and posted on X on September 17, 2024 – as he tries to live up to the song Mansilayayo (“Do you understand?”) from the Rajinikanth-starrer Vettaiyan. He is impeccably dressed in a flowing red kurta and vesti. In the 29 second video, he still looks like an idol. As if jogging, he keeps drumming his arms, he plants a step forward, then pulls it back, thumps, then spins, dropping his shoulders like Lionel Messi before feigning a defender. Through it all, he wears a sheepish smile. But who cares about his moves on the floor, when he’s fixing it on the board?
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