Sania's legacy: She's a legend beyond the sport she played

Her achievements must be set against the multiple controversies generated by others and all the unsolicited advice that afflicts any Indian woman who chooses a career outside the rubric of domesticity

A few days before Sania Mirza took her last bow on an international tennis court in Dubai, she spoke eloquently to The Indian Express about her 20-year career in which she won six Grand Slam titles and 43 major titles. “I want to tell young women, don’t let anybody tell you that you can’t do what you want.” Ms Mirza, the only Indian woman to top the doubles ranking and reach a career high of 27 in world tennis, is well placed to offer this advice.

Her achievements must be set against the multiple controversies generated by others and all the unsolicited advice that afflicts any Indian woman who chooses a career beyond the run-of-the-mill and outside the rubric of domesticity. She faced the usual taunts from conservative family friends and relatives that she would grow dark and unmarriageable if she stood around on sunlit courts. As a Grand Slam winner, she parried questions from journalists on when she expected to “settle down”. As she said, “It’s as if I would not be a complete woman until I became a mother, no matter what I achieved as an athlete.” Funny, no one ever thought of asking this of Rafael Nadal, even though he was the last of the Big Three to marry and have a child. 

As a Muslim, she faced several fatwas. One was issued by Muslim scholars criticising her tennis gear of short skirts and tops. That was in 2005 just as she was preparing for the Australian Open, when communalism was gaining traction and every Indian media outlet chose to pruriently headline the threat. Ms Mirza’s response was a masterclass in how not to rise to the bait. Her family issued a press release saying she did not want to respond. She continued to identify as a practising Muslim — but she also started sporting a nose ring and wearing T-shirts bearing such legends as “Well behaved girls rarely make history”.

Her personal life choices were very much her own. She chose to marry a Pakistani — the cricketer Shoaib Malik — and sustained another fatwa for living with him before the nuptials. After her marriage, the vortex of venom from communal crazies on both sides of the border encouraged the couple to settle in Dubai.  

Few sportspeople can emerge from such sustained extraneous pressure unscathed. But Ms Mirza somehow managed to retain her bubbly humour to the last — you only have to watch her appearances as an expert commentator on TV or on a zany episode of Koffee with Karan to catch a glimpse of the sunny personality behind the competitive steel. 

In many ways, Ms Mirza still stands alone. The presence of Indian women in tennis remains sparse and those who do play the international circuits stand on her very capable shoulders. To find an Indian woman tennis player who made any impact on the international stage you have to go back all the way to 1952 when Rita Davar became the first Indian girl to reach a Grand Slam final — she lost in the finals of the Junior Girls Wimbledon championship. In 1955, she partnered Ramanathan Krishnan in mixed doubles at Wimbledon and reached the third round. She played her final international tournament in 1956 before retiring, settling in Germany where she married a jazz band leader, a figure of wonder and glamour to my childhood eyes whenever she visited my parents in Calcutta.

Rita Davar could sustain her career because she came from a relatively affluent home and could play on proper hard courts or grass courts — unlike the dung-packed courts that did duty as hard courts when Ms Mirza started out in Hyderabad. Ms Mirza did not have to struggle financially in quite the same way as women from poorer backgrounds in athletics, cricket, hockey or boxing. Still, tennis is a relatively expensive sport at the individual level — it requires lots of money for coaching, fitness training, travel and hotels. Ms Mirza’s father, who coached her, has spoken eloquently of the struggles to find a decent court on which she could practise, of raising sponsorship money. It was doubly tough for Indian women attending tournaments around the country or the world, he added, which is why her parents took turns to accompany her.

Sania Mirza, best remembered for her booming backhand, may not have hit the same heights as her brilliant near contemporary Serena Williams, whose struggles from poverty to greatness is the stuff of legend. But to progressive Indian women, at least, she will be an icon beyond the sport she played.