The river of a man's life can take many mysterious turns and end up in lands undreamt of at the source.

For Bapusaheb Bangar, the source was Aurangabad district, in the Marathwada region, where he held down a decent job as Class I officer in the Maharashtra revenue department.

It was a good life, and he hoped to make it even better as he made plans to settle down permanently in Aurangabad, with his wife and three children.

Only, one of those children happened to be named Bangar. Sanjay Bangar who, as a schoolboy, began playing extremely good cricket.

"Because he was so good, everyone told me I should leave Aurangabad, move to Mumbai to give him a chance," Bapusaheb told rediff.com

It never occurred to him that there was another alternative -- stay in Aurangabad, and let son Sanjay take his chances. Bapusaheb got himself transferred to Mumbai. Almost his first act was to get Sanjay enrolled at the Shivaji Park camp run by renowned coach Dronacharya Award-winner Ramakant Achrekar.

Sanjay went on to exceed his wildest expectations.

"I never thought he would reach so far in life," Bapusaheb says today. "I knew he was a good cricketer, but to get a break in the Indian team is very difficult. I am glad he has made it, that he is part of the team representing our country in the World Cup."

Those simple words mask a lifetime of struggle. Shortly after getting a transfer to Mumbai, he found himself packing his bags again to Nanded, this time. The life of a government employee, he realized, was not conducive to the putting down of roots.

"I had a choice," he recalls. "Either I could take my family with me, which meant sacrificing Sanjay's career, or I could leave my family in Mumbai, and go alone to Nanded. I chose to go alone as I wanted my son to become a cricketer."

He has no complaints, no regrets. "Today I am proud that my son, whom I took on my scooter to different cricket grounds in Maharashtra, is representing our country."

Does the family feel that recognition came late to Sanjay?

Bapusaheb agrees, but says he has no regrets. "Like Sanjay, I believe that whatever God gives to a person is for the best. I have no complaints."

"I only wish Sanjay's mother had been alive to see him play in the World Cup."

Bapusaheb sees his role in Sanjay's life as a facilitator but he has never presumed to advise his son on the dynamics of his game. "I never told him to become a batsman or a bowler, he decided on his own that he wanted to be an all-rounder," says the father. "I feel the best thing about Sanjay is that he learns a lot from his mistakes and he never gives up easily in life."

Sanjay's sister is married, and settled in Canada. His brother -- a doctor -- is unmarried, lives in the Bangar household, and is Sanjay's biggest critic.

"He too plays cricket at the local level," Bapusaheb says of his elder son. "He is close to Sanjay, but he tells us about Sanjay's mistakes that we fail to realize."

You wouldn't think it, the fond father tells us, but Sanjay's favorite interests outside of cricket is reading up on religion, philosophy. He reads the Ramayan, the Mahabharat. And thanks to his increasing sojourns with the Indian team he reads the Bible, which is a constant presence in hotel rooms around the world.

A book on Karna, the mythical hero of the Mahabharat, is one of his favorites, says Sanjay's wife Kashmira. "He has gifted copies of this book to many people. He is very religious and very philosophical too at times. He has his own set of principles in life, that he follows."

"He hates discussing cricket at home," she smiles. "He feels uncomfortable when people ask him questions about cricket at home. He would prefer to be a different person, and not talk about the game."

They were married in July 1999 but thanks to Sanjay's cricket schedule, have spent very little time together.

"We have spent only a hundred days or so together at a stretch," Kashmira sighs. "In fact, he told me cricket is his first wife."

The two wives obviously don't get along too well. Kashmira is not one of those for whom the game is a religion. "I never used to watch cricket before marriage," she smiles. "Even now, I only watch when he is playing. When he goes out to bat or bowl, I pray for the best for every ball."

Sanjay's two-year-old son Aryan makes no bones about where his loyalties lie. He runs around, like a mini-Sanjay, shining his plastic ball on his trousers, bowling it at the furniture. A left-handed batsman, Aryan's cricketing companion is his grandfather except, of course, when his father returns after another tour.

The best thing about Sanjay, Kashmira muses, is the fact that he is very down to earth, totally un-starry. While playing for Indian Railways, he has slept in dormitories, shared toilets; he knows all about hardship, he knows the value of working hard.

"When he got selected for the Indian cricket team, he told me marrying me proved lucky for him," Kashmira smiles.

Now she and the rest of the Bangar household are keeping their fingers crossed for India to reach the Super Six stage. Because if when they do, the family will fly down to South Africa to cheer Sanjay and his mates on to glory.