My idol Bishen
“Whatever touched his heart, unloosened
his tongue” is to paraphrase a quote of political scientist Wayper on Jean
Rousseau, the legendary political philosopher and social activist. In a
nut-shell that is the apt description of my Bishen. Bishen happens to be the
Rousseau of the world of cricket.
Much lauded and more maligned, my Bishan
was not an individual who would run away from challenges fearing loss of image
or whatever. At the first hint of injustice, without a care for the morrow
Bishan, like Rousseau, would be the first to raise his voice and the first into
the scene of battle. If need be, he would go ahead alone and not look around
for support, exactly as Rabindranath Tagore had visualized: Jodi tor dak sunay keo na ashey, tobay ekla
chalo ray (If nobody answers your call, do it alone).
Bishan Bedi was the synonym for high
moral principles. At the same time a direct antithesis of tact. He would not
deviate into diplomacy for the sake of sacrificing truth. No one – not even his
sworn enemies – can ever accuse him of hypocrisy. He was highly proactive for any
just cause.
Admittedly over the years he has paid a
heavy penalty for this admirable quality of his. But he would not have had it
otherwise. Fear of authority never crossed that raised turban of this proud
Sikh of the martial race.
It is to his immense credit that as a
cricket captain he inspired a host of young players to attain heights beyond
their inherent abilities. He gave his team-mates freedom and respect. He fought
tooth and nail for them. He left his stamp of character with every act of his.
A man Swami Vivekananda would have been proud of.
But he was a terrible judge of people.
He hated flatterers and fiends but that was precisely what he eventually had
beside him always. Invariably he was left stranded by the very men he had
helped to find moorings in cricket as well as in life. People, who benefited
immensely from him, made dirty noises invariably behind his back.
Again to his credit, he had no time for
his critics or for prima donnas. He treated all men as equals. No wonder it was
under his leadership that the young Indian brigade put up a rare show of
fortitude as they chased over 400 runs to win a Test match. This was at Trinidad
in 1976 against the likes of Holding, Roberts and company at a time when the
West Indies avalanche crushed all obstructions to smithereens.
He was man of very high idealism. Once
in 1979 at Sahiwal he forfeited an ODI match to Pakistan. When he found that
the Pakistani umpires were not following the spirit of the noble sport by
allowing bumpers beyond limit, Bishan decided to close the innings and
consequently to forfeit the match!
On another occasion he declared India’s
innings closed at Kingston in Jamaica in 1976 when the West Indies fast bowlers
launched a bumper-attack aiming at the body of the Indian batters. A distinct
case of non-violent resistance that would have made one MK Gandhi glow in pride.
Bedi’s candid logic was that cricket was
no war, just a game. The moment he realized that the umpires were unwilling to
use their discretion and allowed the conventional tradition of the noble game
to be trampled upon, the patriotic man decided that he and his countrymen would
not be a part of the fracas.
In time the ‘spirit of cricket’ code
became a vital part in the MCC Laws of Cricket to enable umpires and match
referees to take strict actions. Unfortunately the man, whose daredevilry made
the idea of the code possible, never got any credit for it. Not even a mention
for his proactive contribution.
Bedi, the supreme classical stylist was
nature’s gift to cricket. To him the game came much ahead of petty
considerations of victory and defeat. To him the end did not justify the means.
Nothing, just nothing could shake him away from the firm resolve that cricket
was a game for the mentally tough who could take the rough with the smooth. But
it was a game nevertheless and certainly no war.
His open personality and liberal views
invited confrontation. Bishan crossed swords with authority not because he
relished duels but because they gave him little option. People in power could
not tolerate his courage, his convictions. Even players whom he had nursed and
nurtured stayed away from him lest they got branded. When he took on the
influential DDCA and put his foot down very vehemently, yet again he showed the
world his courage in the face of odds. Never bothered to curry favours with the
Establishment, neither BCCI nor ICC.
Bishan could indeed be a very hard
task-master, more so to his own self and to his own mates. He would brook no
compromise. Inevitably enough in a scenario short on principles, the man of
principles found himself marginalized. Throughout his active cricket career and
beyond he had to carry a very high burden for his non-compromising stance.
If in life he was in perpetual hurry, at
the bowling crease he was an exact antithesis. From a rhythmic classical pose –
a model for sculptors – the bearded ‘sardar’ would tantalizingly tease. For him
flight did not mean merely tossing the ball up. His flight was a deceptive
trajectory that would curl in mid-air; aerial geometry perplexing the best of
batters. The arc would curve variable paths at his beck and call.
When people thought that one-day cricket
had no place for spinners, he enjoyed a hearty laugh when those supple fingers
of his produced a match analysis of 12-8-6-1. Against East Africa in the Prudential
World Cup of 1979. But knowing the man, I am certain that he would have
preferred to bag a few more wickets in the process.
Bishan belonged to a period when Indian
spinners were doing magic with the ball in hand. They were genuine spinners.
Men who made the ball rotate on flight. Not the kind to trundle slow stuff and
create an impression of being spinners. No, no, far from it. Bishan's
contemporaries believed a spinner should be able to turn even on a billiard
table-top. And that was precisely what they achieved.
They relished the friendly rivalry and
banter among themselves. They were beyond comparison. They complimented and
contrasted among themselves. Yes, they were lucky to have spinning tracks at
home in the 1970s, but what about their successes abroad? On the hard sun-baked
pitches of Australia as well as on the grassy tracks in England and New Zealand?
Actually Bishan and his spinning-companions never bothered about surfaces and
conditions to display their skills.
On the last day of December 1966 aBedi made his Test debut at the iconic Eden Gardens against Garfield Sobers'
side. Just a few weeks earlier he had created a wonderful impression while
bowling against the tourists for the all-India combined university side as well
as for the Board President's XI.
Thankfully a liberal-minded captain like
Tiger Pataudi realized the worth of the gem placed at his disposal, carefully
gave it shape and polish. But did not unnecessarily interfere and allowed him
full freedom to develop his art and personality.
This was just the kind of mentorship
that Bishan needed: a guiding hand without unnecessary curbs. And this was the
kind of guidance Bedi himself would give to youngsters when he was the captain
of India, North Zone and Delhi.
When Bishan began his tryst with Test
cricket there were established left-arm spinners in India with impeccable
credentials like Padmakar Shivalkar and Rajinder Goel. But the moment the young
sardar went left-arm over-the-wicket, he went over his generation of left-arm
spinners.
Such was the subtlety of his free-flowing
action that people who had come with sardonic smiles were made to sit up and
take notice. Even old-timers, highly critical of modern men, had to nod their
heads in appreciation. They realized that they were witnessing a classical
charmer in action.
As captain he did wonders for Delhi and
North Zone teams. He made them believe in themselves. In his time Delhi and North
Zone were feared teams and a whole lot of outstanding cricketers came into
national reckoning. Instilled confidence into them and allowed them to blossom.
Bishan's major contribution was that he guided young cricketers to believe in
their own selves.
******
Bishan
Bedi was a pioneer in many respects. He was among the first Indians to come
from an unfashionable city (Amritsar) to become an international cricket legend. He
was among the first to break the stranglehold of Bombay who monopolized the
domestic Indian cricket championships. He was most surely the first in northern
India to help the deserving regional youngsters to find their feet in the
uncertain world of Indian cricket.
He was
the first among our national selectors who had the courage to identify and
select ‘horses for courses’ when it came to choosing the national teams. And
most importantly he was the
first to vehemently protest at the
international stage when the game of cricket was reduced to a street-fight.
However, all these impeccable pioneering
qualities do little justice to this ubiquitous personality. Unique though those
attributes were, he was primarily an artiste. As with all genuine people of art
he was a philosopher and a social activist.
Even Bishan’s critics will admit that
the turbaned Sikh had tremendous faith in himself. His confidence level and the
sense of self-respect were exemplary. Invariably enough, he was always fighting
for a selfless cause, however difficult it might appear to be.
During
the course of his life’s journey, he trod on many toes. Powerful, influential
ones. But he had no regrets. Never bothered about who or how many were with
him. He was always a singular man with a definite purpose. If no one came to
assist, he would go forward alone without bothering about the consequences.
His
best quality was that he could be your dearest friend and at the same time your
prime adversary. Depending totally on the issue at hand. This sterling quality
comes only to a very few. Thankfully Bishan had loads of it. This was the
characteristic that kept him apart from most others.
Magnanimous
to a fault, Bishan had the knack of applauding an opponent for an exquisite
stroke, even off his own bowling. I can vouch as a recipient. He was known to
go across to the opponent’s dressing room for a chat. These came naturally to
him for he enjoyed companionship.
He was
the opposing captain when I made my first-class debut against North Zone at
Feroz Shah Kotla in 1972. We won the very low-scoring encounter but not once
did I see him lose his magnanimous bearing. If he inspired his own mates, he
inspired me no less as a man and as a captain.
Never
saw him lower his high moral code to take an undue advantage, even if it was
legal and available. Never saw him lose his cool and composure on the field.
Never saw him lose his dignified presence on or off the field.
But he
would be the first to object if he found any wrong being done. Tony Greig and
John Lever got a taste of his medicine in 1976 when they were illegally
applying some artificial substance to the ball. Bishan was forever a patriot.
The so-called professionalism of the mercenary never crossed his mind as
Northamptonshire CC cut short his contract because of this incident.
India’s
first series victory in 1969 was not taken seriously because at the time New
Zealand was considered to be a weak opposition. But their ‘home’ conditions the
Kiwis were a formidable lot. Tiger Pataudi’s men did wonders with Bedi and
Prasanna among the principal wicket-takers. A major turning point of Indian
cricket was the twin overseas victories of Wadekar’s men in West Indies and
England in 1971. Bishan was a prominent contributor on both tours.
Even
after retirement, his contribution was impeccable. Bedi took the initiative to
be the chief architect who chose the 1983 world cup squad. For the first time
India sent a team with the ‘horses for courses’ policy. Brilliant fielders,
genuine swingers, lion-hearted batters brought forth a stunning result beyond
all comprehension.
Salute
to our national selectors where Bishan along with Chandu Borde and Ghulam Ahmed
played a very prominent role for their unbiased, non-provincial approach. The
east zone and central zone representatives were absent at the selection
committee meeting! The appointment of Maan Singh as manager was a master-stroke
as Maan’s personality and integrity played a crucial role during the campaign.
Bishan
Bedi was born 50 years too late. His ideologies, his mannerisms, his conduct
were of an earlier generation when values had some value. He was a complete
misfit of his contemporary times and beyond. He was aghast at the dreadful
cronyism and the hypocrisy around him. Frustrated, he could not afford to keep
silent.
He
became a rebel because of the prevailing circumstances; not because he loved rebellion.
Unfortunately, Bishan Bedi and players
of his artistic ilk have always been judged on calculators. Although Bishan’s
statistical figures are of the highest category contributing towards many distinguished Test victories, yet it is
primarily his artistic talents that have delighted generations of cricket
connoisseurs.
Over to
1980 at Eden Gardens. Bengal was hosting Delhi in a Ranji Trophy quarter-final
duel. Star-studded Delhi with 11 international players defeated a young Bengal
side in a close-contested match. Bishan and I were the rival leaders. After the
match, Bishan came to our dressing room and said, “Gallant fight-back, lads.
All the best.” Smiled at me, “Raju, despite being the highest scorer in the
match, you are in the losing team. That’s the irony of life.” What a lesson in
the easiest of languages from a most magnanimous gentleman.
The
magical rhythm of his twinkling toes, the slow curve of his arms, the subtle
wait, the trademark thumb impression on the ball of the non-bowling arm and the
impassive vein gave him a halo that sent shivers of excitement to those
fortunate enough to have seen him in action.
He was
primarily an artist with the cricket field as his canvas. There were no
high-fives, no vulgar gestures. The artist was content to accept the applause
with a disarming smile. That was and still very much remains my Bishan Singh
Bedi in excelsis…
My idol Bishen
“Whatever touched his heart, unloosened
his tongue” is to paraphrase a quote of political scientist Wayper on Jean
Rousseau, the legendary political philosopher and social activist. In a
nut-shell that is the apt description of my Bishen. Bishen happens to be the
Rousseau of the world of cricket.
Much lauded and more maligned, my Bishen
was not an individual who would run away from challenges fearing loss of image
or whatever. At the first hint of injustice, without a care for the morrow
Bishen, like Rousseau, would be the first to raise his voice and the first into
the scene of battle. If need be, he would go ahead alone and not look around
for support, exactly as Rabindranath Tagore had visualized: Jodi tor dak sunay keo na ashey, tobay ekla
chalo ray (If nobody answers your call, do it alone).
Bishen Bedi was the synonym for high
moral principles. At the same time a direct antithesis of tact. He would not
deviate into diplomacy for the sake of sacrificing truth. No one – not even his
sworn enemies – can ever accuse him of hypocrisy. He was highly proactive for any
just cause.
Admittedly over the years he has paid a
heavy penalty for this admirable quality of his. But he would not have had it
otherwise. Fear of authority never crossed that raised turban of this proud
Sikh of the martial race.
It is to his immense credit that as a
cricket captain he inspired a host of young players to attain heights beyond
their inherent abilities. He gave his team-mates freedom and respect. He fought
tooth and nail for them. He left his stamp of character with every act of his.
A man Swami Vivekananda would have been proud of.
But he was a terrible judge of people.
He hated flatterers and fiends but that was precisely what he eventually had
beside him always. Invariably he was left stranded by the very men he had
helped to find moorings in cricket as well as in life. People, who benefitted
immensely from him, made dirty noises invariably behind his back.
Again to his credit, he had no time for
his critics or for prima donnas. He treated all men as equals. No wonder it was
under his leadership that the young Indian brigade put up a rare show of
fortitude as they chased over 400 runs to win a Test match. This was at Trinidad
in 1976 against the likes of Holding, Roberts and company at a time when the
West Indies avalanche crushed all obstructions to smithereens.
He was man of very high idealism. Once
in 1979 at Sahiwal he forfeited an ODI match to Pakistan. When he found that
the Pakistani umpires were not following the spirit of the noble sport by
allowing bumpers beyond limit, Bishen decided to close the innings and
consequently to forfeit the match!
On another occasion he declared India’s
innings closed at Kingston in Jamaica in 1976 when the West Indies fast bowlers
launched a bumper-attack aiming at the body of the Indian batters. A distinct
case of non-violent resistance that would have made one MK Gandhi glow in pride.
Bedi’s candid logic was that cricket was
no war, just a game. The moment he realized that the umpires were unwilling to
use their discretion and allowed the conventional tradition of the noble game
to be trampled upon, the patriotic man decided that he and his countrymen would
not be a part of the fracas.
In time the ‘spirit of cricket’ code
became a vital part in the MCC Laws of Cricket to enable umpires and match
referees to take strict actions. Unfortunately the man, whose daredevilry made
the idea of the code possible, never got any credit for it. Not even a mention
for his proactive contribution.
Bedi, the supreme classical stylist was
nature’s gift to cricket. To him the game came much ahead of petty
considerations of victory and defeat. To him the end did not justify the means.
Nothing, just nothing could shake him away from the firm resolve that cricket
was a game for the mentally tough who could take the rough with the smooth. But
it was a game nevertheless and certainly no war.
His open personality and liberal views
invited confrontation. Bishen crossed swords with authority not because he
relished duels but because they gave him little option. People in power could
not tolerate his courage, his convictions. Even players whom he had nursed and
nurtured stayed away from him lest they got branded. When he took on the
influential DDCA and put his foot down very vehemently, yet again he showed the
world his courage in the face of odds. Never bothered to curry favours with the
Establishment, neither BCCI nor ICC.
Bishen could indeed be a very hard
task-master, more so to his own self and to his own mates. He would brook no
compromise. Inevitably enough in a scenario short on principles, the man of
principles found himself marginalized. Throughout his active cricket career and
beyond he had to carry a very high burden for his non-compromising stance.
If in life he was in perpetual hurry, at
the bowling crease he was an exact antithesis. From a rhythmic classical pose –
a model for sculptors – the bearded ‘sardar’ would tantalizingly tease. For him
flight did not mean merely tossing the ball up. His flight was a deceptive
trajectory that would curl in mid-air; aerial geometry perplexing the best of
batters. The arc would curve variable paths at his beck and call.
When people thought that one-day cricket
had no place for spinners, he enjoyed a hearty laugh when those supple fingers
of his produced a match analysis of 12-8-6-1. Against East Africa in the Prudential
World Cup of 1979. But knowing the man, I am certain that he would have
preferred to bag a few more wickets in the process.
Bishen belonged to a period when Indian
spinners were doing magic with the ball in hand. They were genuine spinners.
Men who made the ball rotate on flight. Not the kind to trundle slow stuff and
create an impression of being spinners. No, no, far from it. Bishen's
contemporaries believed a spinner should be able to turn even on a billiard
table-top. And that was precisely what they achieved.
They relished the friendly rivalry and
banter among themselves. They were beyond comparison. They complimented and
contrasted among themselves. Yes, they were lucky to have spinning tracks at
home in the 1970s, but what about their successes abroad? On the hard sun-baked
pitches of Australia as well as on the grassy tracks in England and New Zealand?
Actually Bishen and his spinning-companions never bothered about surfaces and
conditions to display their skills.
On the last day of December 1966 Bishen
Bedi made his Test debut at the iconic Eden Gardens against Garfield Sobers'
side. Just a few weeks earlier he had created a wonderful impression while
bowling against the tourists for the all-India combined university side as well
as for the Board President's XI.
Thankfully a liberal-minded captain like
Tiger Pataudi realized the worth of the gem placed at his disposal, carefully
gave it shape and polish. But did not unnecessarily interfere and allowed him
full freedom to develop his art and personality.
This was just the kind of mentorship
that Bishen needed: a guiding hand without unnecessary curbs. And this was the
kind of guidance Bedi himself would give to youngsters when he was the captain
of India, North Zone and Delhi.
When Bishen began his tryst with Test
cricket there were established left-arm spinners in India with impeccable
credentials like Padmakar Shivalkar and Rajinder Goel. But the moment the young
sardar went left-arm over-the-wicket, he went over his generation of left-arm
spinners.
Such was the subtlety of his free-flowing
action that people who had come with sardonic smiles were made to sit up and
take notice. Even old-timers, highly critical of modern men, had to nod their
heads in appreciation. They realized that they were witnessing a classical
charmer in action.
As captain he did wonders for Delhi and
North Zone teams. He made them believe in themselves. In his time Delhi and North
Zone were feared teams and a whole lot of outstanding cricketers came into
national reckoning. Instilled confidence into them and allowed them to blossom.
Bishen's major contribution was that he guided young cricketers to believe in
their own selves.
******
Bishen
Bedi was a pioneer in many respects. He was among the first Indians to come
from an unfancied city (Amritsar) to become an international cricket legend. He
was among the first to break the stranglehold of Bombay who monopolized the
domestic Indian cricket championships. He was most surely the first in northern
India to help the deserving regional youngsters to find their feet in the
uncertain world of Indian cricket.
He was
the first among our national selectors who had the courage to identify and
select ‘horses for courses’ when it came to choosing the national teams. And
most importantly he was the
first to vehemently protest at the
international stage when the game of cricket was reduced to a street-fight.
However, all these impeccable pioneering
qualities do little justice to this ubiquitous personality. Unique though those
attributes were, he was primarily an artiste. As with all genuine people of art
he was a philosopher and a social activist.
Even Bishen’s critics will admit that
the turbaned Sikh had tremendous faith in himself. His confidence level and the
sense of self-respect were exemplary. Invariably enough, he was always fighting
for a selfless cause, however difficult it might appear to be.
During
the course of his life’s journey, he trod on many toes. Powerful, influential
ones. But he had no regrets. Never bothered about who or how many were with
him. He was always a singular man with a definite purpose. If no one came to
assist, he would go forward alone without bothering about the consequences.
His
best quality was that he could be your dearest friend and at the same time your
prime adversary. Depending totally on the issue at hand. This sterling quality
comes only to a very few. Thankfully Bishen had loads of it. This was the
characteristic that kept him apart from most others.
Magnanimous
to a fault, Bishen had the knack of applauding an opponent for an exquisite
stroke, even off his own bowling. I can vouch as a recipient. He was known to
go across to the opponent’s dressing room for a chat. These came naturally to
him for he enjoyed companionship.
He was
the opposing captain when I made my first-class debut against North Zone at
Feroz Shah Kotla in 1972. We won the very low-scoring encounter but not once
did I see him lose his magnanimous bearing. If he inspired his own mates, he
inspired me no less as a man and as a captain.
Never
saw him lower his high moral code to take an undue advantage, even if it was
legal and available. Never saw him lose his cool and composure on the field.
Never saw him lose his dignified presence on or off the field.
But he
would be the first to object if he found any wrong being done. Tony Greig and
John Lever got a taste of his medicine in 1976 when they were illegally
applying some artificial substance to the ball. Bishen was forever a patriot.
The so-called professionalism of the mercenary never crossed his mind as
Northamptonshire CC cut short his contract because of this incident.
India’s
first series victory in 1969 was not taken seriously because at the time New
Zealand was considered to be a weak opposition. But their ‘home’ conditions the
Kiwis were a formidable lot. Tiger Pataudi’s men did wonders with Bedi and
Prasanna among the principal wicket-takers. A major turning point of Indian
cricket was the twin overseas victories of Wadekar’s men in West Indies and
England in 1971. Bishen was a prominent contributor on both tours.
Even
after retirement, his contribution was impeccable. Bedi took the initiative to
be the chief architect who chose the 1983 world cup squad. For the first time
India sent a team with the ‘horses for courses’ policy. Brilliant fielders,
genuine swingers, lion-hearted batters brought forth a stunning result beyond
all comprehension.
Salute
to our national selectors where Bishen along with Chandu Borde and Ghulam Ahmed
played a very prominent role for their unbiased, non-provincial approach. The
east zone and central zone representatives were absent at the selection
committee meeting! The appointment of Maan Singh as manager was a master-stroke
as Maan’s personality and integrity played a crucial role during the campaign.
Bishen
Bedi was born 50 years too late. His ideologies, his mannerisms, his conduct
were of an earlier generation when values had some value. He was a complete
misfit of his contemporary times and beyond. He was aghast at the dreadful
cronyism and the hypocrisy around him. Frustrated, he could not afford to keep
silent.
He
became a rebel because of the prevailing circumstances; not because he loved rebellion.
Unfortunately, Bishen Bedi and players
of his artistic ilk have always been judged on calculators. Although Bishen’s
statistical figures are of the highest category contributing towards many distinguished Test victories, yet it is
primarily his artistic talents that have delighted generations of cricket
connoisseurs.
Over to
1980 at Eden Gardens. Bengal was hosting Delhi in a Ranji Trophy quarter-final
duel. Star-studded Delhi with 11 international players defeated a young Bengal
side in a close-contested match. Bishen and I were the rival leaders. After the
match, Bishen came to our dressing room and said, “Gallant fight-back, lads.
All the best.” Smiled at me, “Raju, despite being the highest scorer in the
match, you are in the losing team. That’s the irony of life.” What a lesson in
the easiest of languages from a most magnanimous gentleman.
The
magical rhythm of his twinkling toes, the slow curve of his arms, the subtle
wait, the trademark thumb impression on the ball of the non-bowling arm and the
impassive vein gave him a halo that sent shivers of excitement to those
fortunate enough to have seen him in action.
He was
primarily an artist with the cricket field as his canvas. There were no
high-fives, no vulgar gestures. The artist was content to accept the applause
with a disarming smile. That was and still very much remains my Bishen Singh
Bedi in excelsis…
