When I was around five years old, I took part in a fancy-dress competition. I had dressed up as Jawaharlal Nehru and when it was my turn to go on stage, I went up, saluted, and promptly forgot what I had to say. I stood there holding the salute and staring at my parents until they said, “Okay, come down now.”I had such stage fright that day! My parents, though, kept sending me for more competitions. Each time I’d stand tongue-tied on stage, staring at Mummy and Papa until they said, “Okay, come down now.”Soon, it became a routine for me to go on stage and for them to wait for some time and then sigh and ask me to come back.And yet, playing before a huge audience has never been a problem for me. I enjoy the presence of people in the audience, their cheering and support.

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For one, I became famous. People started recognizing me, more money came along, and I found myself feeling more confident about becoming a champion. I was especially happy that badminton suddenly became a popular sport. More kids started playing and joining the academy.The flipside was the enormous pressure that it brought on me. One bad performance and people would write about it, talk about it. It was upsetting. I realised that my popularity was directly linked with my performance, and I could not let anything distract me from my game.Endorsement offers began to come in, along with invitations to events, interview requests, and things like that. I had turned eighteen and maybe people realised that I was a young woman now, which contributed to the popularity.I had never been a tomboy, and even now I dress as other girls my age do. My first photo shoot was in 2010, when I was twenty. I had naïvely assumed that there would be a handful of people and I’d pose before the camera and leave soon. To my absolute horror, I stepped on to the sets to see some 100–200 people. I went into the make-up area and when they had finished, I had so much make- up on that I almost didn’t recognise myself! I was terrified to be there. I felt like a doll and after years of being on court with absolutely no make-up on, just playing my game, it felt really weird.To make matters worse, I had to say a few lines and my old stage fright threatened to appear again. Only, this time Mummy and Papa couldn’t say “Okay, come down now”. I think we spent two full days shooting and I was exhausted. Modelling is tiring business, and don’t let anyone tell you otherwise!They bring in money that I can definitely use. When I started playing badminton, Papa had to pay through his nose to keep me in training. I never planned on being very rich, but for a middle-class family like ours, money certainly changed things. And I am not complaining! Having money feels good. I don’t check my account regularly or see how much has come in, but the financial stability has been very welcome.

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When I started playing in 1999, the Sports Authority of India gave me a fellowship of Rs 700 a month. A year later, the Petroleum Sports Board offered me a monthly stipend of Rs 2,500, and this continued for three years. It was in 2004, after I won the Under- 15 National Championships and the third place at the Senior National Championships, that I got a few job offers.In India, sportspeople who make it to the national level are usually employed by oil companies or the railways, and I got an offer from Bharat Petroleum Corporation Limited. In fact, it was Prakash Padukone sir who recommended me.Luckily, it was only a formality and Papa could accompany me. They asked me about my plans for my game and I could easily answer their questions. But when they asked me about oil companies, I had to tell them that I knew nothing!I was employed at the officer cadre and given a monthly salary in the form of a high fellowship award. I was confirmed on my eighteenth birthday, with an appointment letter stating that I was now employed as an executive officer. My current designation is deputy manager and I look forward to a promotion when I play well.It’s a bit weird to think that I was barely out of school and already employed, especially when my attendance at school at that time was terrible. But the salary was very welcome. It eased a little burden off Papa and for that, I was grateful.In 2007, I was offered sponsorship by the Mittal Champions Trust. This was of great help, especially when I had to travel on tournaments. They offered me a total amount of Rs 25 lakh, which went towards paying for my training, my physios, my equipment, travel, and such expenditure. Sometimes, the government does not sponsor our travels and such support becomes a boon.

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But that’s hardly the case. In 2011, I did eight endorsements. All the shoots and interviews were done on days I didn’t train. I gave up my holidays to work on these.Most detractors miss the point. Putting myself out there has helped people sit up and take notice, not just of me but also of my game. At the same time, I am acutely aware of the fact that I will get these offers only as long as I play well, and I never forget it. One medal doesn’t make one a celebrity.

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I may have bought Papa a shirt or a watch, and Abu some perfume, but I don’t remember Mummy asking for anything. She is very particular about my wardrobe and will take great pains to buy me nice clothes. She also makes sure that Papa has nice clothes to wear. But for herself, it’s always some cotton salwar kameezes that cost a few hundred rupees, and nothing more.The wins and the endorsements also made a dream come true for me. In 2010, I bought myself a house close to my academy. It felt fantastic to be able to afford a house, one that I have worked hard for. I now own three homes, two in Hyderabad and one in Gurgaon. I live with my family in a quiet and peaceful colony.

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In fact, I had an auto driver who would wait at the right time at the gate and drop me to the stadium. Again, he never troubled me, although the inside of the auto had many of my photographs. My first car was a Maruti 800, followed by a Honda City and now I drive my BMW X- 6.Excerpted with permission from Playing to Win: My Life On and Off Court, Saina Nehwal, Penguin Books India.