What's eating Cheteshwar Pujara?

Every time Cheteshwar Pujara has walked to the crease in the recent past, I have wondered to myself what's becoming of him. His travails have often taken me back to my time at the top.

I was dropped after ten Tests. What happened before my India call-up and while I played isn't as important as the period I sat on the bench trying to get back into the team. The time I spent in the Indian dressing room helped me become conscious of my biggest strength - my persistence and ability to occupy the crease for long hours. The fact that I could stay put for a considerable amount of time while batting was immense for me. So when I returned to first-class cricket after being dropped from the Indian team, it only seemed natural to call upon that asset every time I walked out to bat.

For me, it was no longer about scoring runs but about occupying the crease for long periods. Runs seemed like an obvious outcome of the time I spent batting. There were times I ended up batting for an entire day without getting to three figures. My obsession with making it back to the Indian team clouded my thinking so much that I almost forgot that the real purpose of batting wasn't to stay at the crease but to score runs. I got quite a few slow half-centuries in the two years following my exit. Ironically, my biggest strength pulled me down during two very important seasons and seriously hampered my chances of a return.

Is something similar happening to Pujara now? I've long admired his style of batting and felt happy whenever he did well for India. His success was an endorsement of India's domestic system. A giant at first-class level forcing his way into the Indian team and succeeding at the top spoke volumes of a healthy structure.

But while Pujara's story started out as a charming one, it's slowly leaving me disenchanted.

After a middling tour of England and a poor one of Australia in 2014, Pujara's next shot at Test cricket came in Colombo in August 2015, when India lost Shikhar Dhawan and M Vijay to injury. At the SSC, Pujara was asked to open - a position he wouldn't call his own even at first-class level. To his credit, he made a match- and series-winning unbeaten century, and it felt like his career was back on track.

But the pressure returned when he averaged 33.66 from four home Tests against South Africa in November-December last year. That's the curse of playing only one format. Every success is quickly forgotten and every failure disproportionately magnified.

Now, his two low scores in the West Indies, when seen alongside KL Rahul's hundred and Dhawan's 84, will put Pujara's selection in jeopardy once again.

While selection is not in Pujara's control, the way he's approaching every innings definitely is. The more I see of Pujara, the more I am reminded of my two barren seasons.

Is Pujara also only thinking about occupying the crease and considering runs a by-product of his stay? Is his first thought to stay unbeaten, and not about scoring the next run? That can happen to people who take pride in their tight technique and powers of concentration. His defensive technique may have been tested lately but it's still good enough to get him big Test runs. And no one scores double- and triple-centuries, like he has, without having tons of patience.

Could it be that Pujara's biggest strength is holding him back too? Or is he struggling on slow surfaces? He has scored double-centuries on low and slow Indian pitches against Australia and England, so why should they bother him now? Perhaps it's simply a case of being out of form and therefore not being as assured as he used to be.

An outsider can never give a definitive answer to the question of what's bothering him. Only Pujara will know what's going on in his mind.

The best way to gauge if a batsman is struggling with form is to see if he's misjudging the line or length often. While you're going through a bad patch, you seldom realise that you aren't watching the release as closely as possible, and even when you try to do so consciously, there's a delay in processing the information because your mind is occupied with other thoughts.

The most dominating thoughts during a bad patch are about your own game - whether the bat is coming down straight, if the head is falling over, and so on. That's why they say that you bat best when you don't think but only react to the ball.

I don't think that's the case with Pujara. While he might be a little concerned about his technique, he doesn't seem very worried about his feet or body position. That's why he isn't late on the ball. Another thing that works for him is his immense mental strength. Mentally weak players don't make successful comebacks or succeed in positions that aren't familiar to them. Pujara has been asked to open a few times, but that challenge didn't alter the way he batted in those games. In fact, it got the best out of him.

Having said that, it's only natural for him to feel a little insecure from time to time, for not only does he play only one international format, he is also absent from the IPL.

Till a couple of years ago, he was trying hard to mould his batting to suit the demands of the shorter formats. He started playing more shots than he would have done otherwise. Unfortunately that didn't work out for him and it might have left him a little confused as well: now that he wasn't even in contention for the shorter formats, what was the point in being aggressive in longer formats, he may have thought.

Might he be at a crossroads in his career with regards to the approach that's best for him?

The good news is that India are scheduled to play 15 more Tests over the next ten months. But the bad news for Pujara is that India are keen to play only five front-line batsmen, and there's a serious fight for those five places.

After my two poor international seasons, I reached out to Michael Atherton, the former England captain, for advice. We spoke only for a few minutes but what he said changed the way I played the game. He told me to remind myself of the very reason for playing the game - which, of course, wasn't just to play for the country but to enjoy the sound of ball hitting bat. My obsession to make it back into the Indian team robbed me off that element of my game - the pleasure of batting. What would a painter be if he only painted for auctions or a musician if he only played for the gallery?

That realisation liberated me from the pressure I had imposed on myself, which then reflected in my performances over the next few seasons.

Pujara is infinitely more skilled than I ever was and it hurts me to see him stifled. His batting might not be as pleasing to the eye as Ajinkya Rahane's or Virat Kohli's, but it has never been an eyesore either. When Pujara bats fluently, he dances down the track to spinners, and goes on the back foot to fast bowlers, clipping them off his legs.

The quickness of his foot movements and his aggressive intent have been missing lately. I wish he finds his mojo soon, for India's long Test season will require Pujara's solidity at No. 3.