cosmopolitan

Sania Mirza: Whither Goest Thou?

Sania, A Volcano Of Talent

It was a heady day in 2003, when Sania Mirza burst onto the stream of Indian sport consciousness, an awareness that if India were to ever have a world beater in an individual sport , it would not be a hirsute male, but a member of the weaker, fairer sex.

Sania Mirza erupted onto the scene like a long dormant volcano, heralding the birth of a new breed of Indian athletes , who not only excelled at their sport but were media savvy and clever enough to carve an image, a niche for themselves, in games other than cricket.

She was smart, she was intelligent, she was articulate, she was pretty, she was sexy, she was photogenic and she had attitude with a capital A. She carried off the anachronism of a nose ring with aplomb and style. To top it all , she owned a killer forehand -  the one that drew comparisons with Steffi Graf , her idol incidentally– , that was almost impossible to return when she dispatched the tennis ball with all the power and strength at her disposal. The forehand was flat and it was skiddy.

Sania Mirza had arrived on the stage of world tennis and Indian tennis would never be the same again. Or so we hoped.

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