I first met Ashwin when I was six and he nine, rocking up on his dad's Hero Honda CD100. He was big for his age. We were under the tutelage of CS Umapathy, who was a disciplined man. Six a.m. practice would start, and for batters it would be all about one thing - judging length. Half-volley: drive. Good length: defence. Short: back foot. It was our morning routine every day.

I didn't pay much heed to Ash then. We were all just regular kids playing cricket because we loved it. The next time I saw him was at an Under-12 tournament in his school. He was injured and was, in fact, the scorer when I made my first-ever hundred in school cricket. It is a vivid memory because I celebrated once on 90-odd and then I heard applause about ten or so runs later. It was then I realised the scorer had messed up the numbers. My team-mates were relieved I'd completed my hundred and did not throw it away after the first celebration.

Ashwin went to a school that was known to produce academically accomplished students. I thought at the time that he was done playing the sport because of his injury and was now focusing on his studies. Little did I know! Mostly I remember thinking, "Couldn't he have scored properly?"

We were in the same school in 2004-05. He was in Grade 11 and I in Grade 8. He was a much bigger boy then, who was just coming back from a serious injury. We opened the batting together. He was taller than most boys in that age group and was a very good player of short-pitched bowling, and the matting wickets helped his play. His cuts and pulls were so good. I thought to myself that maybe it was his dad's fondness for Gundappa Viswanath showing up. Chennai dads have for long been united in their professed love for Vishy. "Play the cut like him!"

Ashwin's and my dad's generation was no different. Still, I didn't think Ashwin would go on to be a professional cricketer, because there was nothing extraordinary about his game.

Back then he would hardly bowl due to his injury, just some part-time offspin, and we already had two good offspinners playing for our team.

But we had a problem. St Bede's, our school, was close to the beach, and it was extremely windy in the afternoon. The faster bowlers would struggle to control the swing in the first 15 overs and we would just leak extras because of it.

So we came up with a temporary fix. Throw the ball to Ash, who would come in with his Harbhajan Singh bowling action, with six fielders on the off side - three behind square for the cut. Not a single ball would turn, but they would drift away at pace. It was impossible for schoolkids to get bat on, and if they did, they would find the cordon of three fielders near point. It was a great strategy for our school team: we found success with Ash at the top, and the other two offies would finish off the middle and death.

We graduated from school and met once again as opponents in league cricket. It was a young Alwarpet side he turned up for, led by D Vasu, another man who could bowl pace and spin. Ashwin got five in that game, but we were a rookie side. The ball was turning, though, and he had his own action by then. I started to take him a bit seriously as he was batting at No. 4 for this team and also churning out those five-fors.

He was called up to the Ranji side towards the end of 2006 and led Tamil Nadu to a famous win over Baroda in a must-win game when we were fighting relegation. The TN team was going through a transition at that point, after several players went to the Indian Cricket League. They handed over captaincy to Ash for the MJ Gopalan Trophy game against Sri Lanka. He had just played four first-class games till then, and this match was one where five of us, myself included, were making our first-class debuts. We got hammered by a strong Sri Lankan side by an innings, but what stood out for me in that game was how Ashwin had matured into a thinking offspinner, one who wasn't scared to innovate. Michael Vandort was an unusually tall opener - he would plant his front foot forward and block the good balls. For him, Ashwin placed me at an unconventional silly point/mid-off very close to the pitch, and Vandort ended up blocking one straight into my hands. It was the beginning of a fruitful partnership with Ashwin for me under the helmet.

By 2008 we had become team-mates in club cricket, turning out for Vijay CC. The three years from 2008 through 2010 were some of the best we had as a club. Looking back, I was thankful I never had to face him anywhere other than in the nets - not then and not at other times in my career.

We were room-mates as well. I remember once we were playing a semi-final in Nagpur against UP, and the night before the game, Ashwin pulled his diary out and had a long conversation with his mother about his plans for the next day. Once the clock struck eight, the TV went on, and he settled down to his favourite routine: watching the 8pm Tamil movie on TV. The AC would be on full blast, and between that and the loud noise of the TV, I would be begging Ashwin to turn the temperature up and volume down, so I could sleep.

"Please da Ash, naalaiki match da." [There is a game tomorrow.] Things would be quieter for a few minutes and then he would burst out laughing at a scene in the film, much to my annoyance. He was always the good student who was over-prepared for a game and wanted to take it easy the day before the game by going through his movie routine.

That actually got him in trouble quite a lot. He just wouldn't show up for the optional practice sessions the day before the game. For a young cricketer, that kind of thing gets you questioned about your work ethic, and can be interpreted as slacking off. Ash wouldn't budge despite all that. His only response would be: question me if I don't perform in the game. This says so much about his stubbornness and will to perform.

Eventually when Ash became captain, he would turn up for optional practice sessions to help the other guys out but never for himself. And his brain was in overdrive throughout. You could never keep him quiet.

During long bus rides when travelling for the Ranji Trophy, he was always a back bencher. He would put together a bunch of guys and play a ridiculous game called Mafia - a simple game of deduction, where he would be the moderator and watch the action unfold.

I also remember during our early years in club cricket, sitting in the dressing room with him and he would bring a pen and a paper and we would do these mock auction picks and drafts for every IPL team, and plot how the sides would balance out.

That restless intelligence means he never fails to surprise you every time you speak to him. For instance, I called him during the last IPL and he went on for 45 minutes about neural networks and AI and how it was making an impact in the shortest form of the game. He texted me just before the auction, sending me ESPNcricinfo's Impact numbers list split for the two halves of the IPL season.

His many interests have created multiple avatars. There is the cricketer who keeps his notes handy, the guy who runs a YouTube channel, the coach at his academy, and I am sure he keeps up to date on the latest movies while every now and then enjoying an old classic at 8pm. (I'm glad he didn't take up cricket scoring, though!) –cricinfo