With Prodyutda in 1972

Prodyutda at Gavaskar Foundation in 2000. Players from left: Souvik Bappa Banerjee, 

Anupam Sinha, Anirban Bumba Chatterjee, Soumen Singh, Vineet Sinha and Pom Dutta. 

Prodyut Mitra

Like all genuine teachers, he never claimed credit for guiding any trainee. Most certainly it is the student’s duty to acknowledge his debt to the teacher and not the other way round. Hundreds, no thousands, have come under the shelter of his wide shadow, but not for once did he ask for any recognition.

He was a selfless man. He did not know what ego was. He had loads of self-respect but no selfish motive. His only intent was all for our benefit. He wanted no money; no fame; no gratitude from any person. He was a freedom-loving individual who spent his tenure on earth for the service of cricket and cricketers.

He was Prodyutda to all at the Calcutta maidan and beyond. He came into my life under very strange circumstances. We had nothing in common. He was big, burly and strong. I was skinny, lean and weak. If he had ever given me a punch, I would have died there and then. If I had ever thought of giving him a punch, my wrist would have been broken into bits. He loved classical music; I had no clue about melody. He never missed a single practice session whereas I was reluctant more often than not!

When I kept seeing him at the Kalighat Club net I fully grasped the actual meaning of the word ‘patience’. Terms like ‘tiredness’ and ‘lethargy’ were not part of his vocabulary. For hours he would willingly ‘throw-down’ at the nets to me. In fact I, the batter, had to tell him that I was tired and no more please. He would literally beg and plead that I continue for just a ‘hundred’ more!

If we contrasted each other in so many ways, we also complemented one another in other ways. He came to the ground in dhoti and shirt; I came in pyjamas or in jeans and paanjabi. I had constant doubts about myself; he had awesome confidence in me. Whenever I felt disappointed, and that happened quite often, Prodyutda would be at the other end of the telephone wire saying, “Raju, aar ekbar aye. Dekbee shob thik hoey jabe.” (Please come one more time; you will find that everything will be fine.)

 I loved reading books; he thought books spoilt my eyes! Whenever I got out, Prodyutda found ways and means to tell me that the ball did something awkward! He knew far more about sports psychology than qualified and experienced psychologists and coaches. He gave me the confidence which I did not possess before I had met him.

Prodyutda used to work at Oberoi’s Grand Hotel. He was a record-keeper in the laundry department. One day he told Gopal Bose and me that his boss had told him that in future he would need to spend the entire official working hours 10am to 5 pm at the department. Immediately, very typically, Gopal said, “Chalo, let’s meet your supervisor,” and off we went to meet him. The entrance to Grand Hotel laundry section was through a narrow lane opposite the New Empire Theatre. Prodyutda stood outside the room as we walked in and met the supervisor, a genial elderly gentleman.

Without any paraphernalia, the current India cricketer Gopal Bose asked the supervisor, “Dada, how many members of your family would like to watch the Test match next week?” Those days in the 1970s Test match tickets at Eden Gardens sold at a huge premium. Even people of influence had trouble getting those tickets. The supervisor, thankfully a cricket follower, recognized us. He was flabbergasted with the query. Somehow he mumbled, “Three.” Gopal replied, “Tomorrow your assistant Prodyut Mitra will hand you seven tickets. Keep three for your family. Give two to your two assistants and two to your boss. Raju, now please explain to him the reason!”

Now it was my turn to be surprised. However I managed to explain to the supervisor, “ If you do not allow Prodyut Mitra to go to the cricket ground he will suffer and die. You surely will agree that Prodyutda has always been a very sincere worker. We promise that he will finish his daily job on that very day but not during office hours. You have allowed him to do so over the years without any complaints, so please do not cause any problems now. On your decision will depend the future of so many prominent cricketers of Bengal.” Thankfully the gentleman nodded and we left the room. On hearing what had transpired Prodyutda just said, “You two have made me an eternal debtor!”

Prodyutda’s contribution to Bengal cricket cannot be measured. He held no official appellation. He was not even the principal coach of any club. He happened to be associated with Kalighat Club – then among the premier clubs – as a man who assisted Sunil Dasgupta, the official coach. But any club player of any club had free access to Prodyutda. He was ever ready to help. He did not believe in unnecessary technical advice. Rather always concentrated in encouraging players to try their best. Actually in effect he was a sports-psychologist without any official qualification.

As a Mohun Bagan player, I used to notice him from a distance whenever Mohun Bagan met Kalighat Club between 1967 and 1969. He would spend hours under the burning sun walking up and down right opposite the pavilion! This is important to note that during the match he would not bother the players with ‘advice’. At the time of course I did not understand the man’s motive. Honestly I thought the Kalighat assistant-coach was crazy!

 In 1970 Tapan Jyoti Banerjee approached me to play for Kalighat Club so that I would get more opportunities to bat because in Mohun Bagan I had to bat after SS Mitter, Chuni Goswami and PC Poddar in the middle-order. In my new club too, the Kalighat Club captain R Sen kept me at no 6 in the first two friendly matches. Even in the nets I batted very late, almost at sun-down. Quickly I lost interest and decided to pack up. TJda called to say,” Raju, don’t be silly. You will get your opportunities soon. You are our main hope in the middle-order.” That sounded very encouraging coming from a man I admired.

Next day as I arrived at the ground the endearing assistant-coach Prodyutda addressed me,” Raju, you come and spend time with me at the nets. I will throw-down as many deliveries as you like. You have the talent to succeed. Please give an opportunity!” I was dazed with the man’s observation and his willingness to help me when there were so many other Bengal Ranji players in the team. Moreover I had never seen him do any throw-downs to anybody in those few weeks of the early season.

Sure enough, following day I landed round 12 noon and found Prodyutda waiting for me at the nets! Thus began an adventure that was to last more than a decade.  His throw-downs never quite stopped.  At 12 noon it began and then again when the net was over at 4.30pm. Gopal Bose was quick to realize the advantage of throw-down practice and spoke to Prodyutda to help. Immediately Prodyutda complied with the request.

 In Gopal’s Herald car, he would pick up Prodyutda at 8am from home and have throw-downs for an hour at the Kalighat Club, and then drop him at Grand Hotel. Then we would leave our Dasturco office and pick up Prodyutda from his office around 11.30 and before the official net began at 1.30, we would monopolize him. But in the evening at 4.30 Prodyutda was all mine for at least half an hour! The gentleman actually threw-down for at least three hours every day! Year after year. All this for no monetary or any other consideration!

It is unbelievable. I know I myself would not have believed it was possible unless I had seen this happen. I did see the sacrifice, the sincerity and the self-less approach of the person. He never considered himself as a coach. Never wanted to be rated as a mentor. Never wanted any glory for himself. He was destined to help others prosper.

He married cricket because cricket was his first love. Yes, he had an ear for classical music. Every year he would buy a season ticket to attend the Bangya Sanskriti Sammelan, which was held annually on the maidan, just south of the Kalighat Club tent on Outram Street. Here he would stay late into the night appreciating the best of talents of Hindustani classical music. And the following day he would be back to his punctual routine of cricket and laundry-record right on schedule.

When ladies cricket was in its early days at Calcutta, the famous football personality PK Banerjee’s wife Arati Boudi was in charge. She quite appropriately opted for Prodyutda as the coach. Prodyutda agreed to supervise the training of the young girls under one condition: that he would not be regarded as the official coach!

Prodyutda idea of coaching was visual. He would ask the girls to watch the prominent players in action at the Kalighat Club net. Then he would ask them to do ‘shadow practice’. Finally he would give catches to the girl-trainees. One day I had to tell him, “Are you mad? Do you realize how hard you are hitting the balls? Any moment someone will have a serious finger injury.”

“Then how will they learn catching?” he asked.

“Please ask a senior girl to give the catches. That is the power they must get used to. No more than that.”

“Thanks, Raju. This is the reason I do not consider myself as a coach. Your ideas are so simple and easy to follow.”

“Prodyutda, you do not have to think of yourself as a coach. Let others decide about it. I personally feel that you are my coach, mentor, psychologist all rolled into one. You are a genuine teacher of values. That is more important in a coach than anything else. What is the use of being considered a coach if you are ill-mannered, foul-mouthed, uncouth and impatient? I love and respect you as you are.”

Prodyutda was visibly embarrassed, “One request to you, Raju. Please do not say these things to others about me. Theek Acche? (OK?)”

I joked, “No, no, not before you die.”

One day Arati Boudi, who would be at the Kalighat CLub ground with the young girl-trainees told me, “Raju, I want you to discuss field-placing, tactics etc with our captain Sreerupa.”

Sreerupa Bose was a very intelligent and hard-working woman. She was also extremely strict with her team mates. I found her to be very knowledgeable about cricket and needed little guidance. When I complimented her on her approach and aptitude, she mentioned having read some coaching manuals. This was an eye-opener to me. Told her to get a copy of Sir Donald Bradman’s Art of Cricket and within days she had a copy with her. Absolutely outstanding choice as captain. Behind the whole of episode of Arati Boudi and Sreerupa Bose, I suspect the idea was of a man named Prodyut Mitra!

He was that kind of a man. He had no ego, no ulterior motive, no silly complex. His only motto was to help others, whichever way it might be. Never drank a drop of alcohol, never smoked tobacco and was an extremely light eater. He depended on no one for any favours. Once when leaving for overseas, I asked him if I could get anything particular he fancied. His reply was, “I would be most happy if you bring back yourself!” What can you say of such a person?

While playing I developed a silly superstition. It was that before I batted Prodyutda must bowl to me a few deliveries! It was ok with Kalighat Club. Prodyutda – in dhoti and shirt – would turn his arm round a few times in the morning warm-up and I would feel fine. But what about Bengal’s Ranji matches? He was not the Bengal coach or any important CAB official that he could just walk in and start bowling a few deliveries at me on the outfield.

I approached a very prominent CAB official, Mr Notu Kolay – a gem of a person – and he immediately told the Bengal coach that Prodyut Mitra should be permitted to bowl a few deliveries to Raju every morning before the start of the match. This became a regular feature at Eden Gardens for years! Was he the first private coach in the world to take the field during an official first-class match?

Prodyutda spent a few years with me at Mohun Bagan and then went to East Bengal for a longer tenure. But his best days were spent in the company of kids whom he adored. They in return literally worshipped him. His contribution as coach cum mentor has never been properly appreciated and recognized.

When Sunil Gavaskar decided to start a cricket coaching centre under the umbrella of his GAVASKAR FOUNDATION, I happened to be a trustee. My first choice as coach was the one and only Prodyutda. Thankfully our managing trustee Jayanta Chatterji gave his immediate consent and Prodyuta remained with us all along. Jayanta really looked after him, now that his salad days were over and people tended to avoid him.

But Prodyutda, typically, was very embarrassed with the high remuneration offered. He told me, “Raju, I do not deserve this amount. No, no, I cannot accept this. Too high for me. I love to be with the youngsters but what will I do with so much of money?”

In all humility, I answered, “To begin with, the money offered is far less than you really deserve. We cannot measure your contribution to cricket in monetary terms. This is just our token of gratitude to you for guiding us over the years. If you do not accept then I shall feel guilty for ever. Do you want me to feel sad and guilty?”

When Sunil came to launch the Foundation, Prodyutda told his young trainees, “Go and take pictures with him for your Thakur-ghar. You boys may never get this scope again. Don’t delay and don’t disturb him. Go, go, Quick, quick!” So very typical of him. The kids –all crowding round Prodyutda – were very shy to go near Sunil Gavaskar. So Prodyutda took the initiative to goad them to keep the picture of a lifetime. A visionary who never got any credit from any quarter.

When he expired no one told me about it. Everyone kept the sad news away from me. A month later when I came to know, I was furious, “Why was I kept in the dark? What’s wrong with all of you?” Then someone softly said, “That was Prodyutda’s last wish. He kept saying ‘Don’t tell Raju. Don’t tell Raju.’ So we didn’t.” Prodyutda died a very peaceful death. His most dear young trainees gave him a quiet cremation without taking the body all over the maidan.”

Prodyutda left as he lived: modest, quiet, simple. No ceremony. He would have hated that. No condolence meeting. He would have been positively embarrassed. Prodyutda lives in our souls. No spiritual sage could have been as selfless as he was.

What an exemplary role-model. But almost impossible for me to live up to. Prodyutda did not want me to know of his final hours because I just had a mild attack of heart-malfunctioning. He did not want to bother me even in his last journey. He never did bother anyone for anything. To him I remain forever in debt. Very grateful for he made me into whatever cricketer I happened to be.