Pankaj Roy: an enigma

 

 Vijay Merchant’s great legacy of the Bombay cricket gharana was followed to the last detail by a stalwart from the east, Pankaj Roy of Bengal. Roy based his batting approach entirely on the path laid down by his role-model, the one and only VM.

 

Like Merchant, Roy was a mystery to others and, I dare say, to himself as well! Unfathomable he has been because of the unexpectedness that shrouded his entire cricket career. At one moment he would be on a pinnacle and the very next plummet into nadir.

 

If Roy became famous as a cricketer, there was no reason for him to be so. He was an outstanding football player, good enough to represent the Indian Football Association XI, which was virtually the national side of the time, against Sri Lanka (then Ceylon).

 

Yet he chose cricket. How abnormal the departure was can be best judged when we learn that cricket in Bengal in the 1940s was only an insignificant sport compared to the wide popularity that soccer enjoyed. Amazingly the man gravitated towards cricket despite carving a niche as a soccer star for himself at the Calcutta maidan.

 

At the time the gay brilliance of international cricketers like Shute Banerjee and Prabir Khokon Sen as well as the mercurial Nirmal Chatterjee and the stylish PB Dutta had the crowds thronging to Eden Gardens. But Pankaj Roy opted for the dour, solid outlook of Bombay cricketers as exemplified by his mentor, the former Bengal captain Kartik Bose.

 

Roy had never played his early cricket on hard, bouncy tracks because the pitches at Calcutta were grassy and afforded considerable deviation to the ball. Yet Roy developed himself to become an excellent player of genuine pace on hard wickets. In the West Indies in 1953 he was always behind the fastest of the expresses. As he was against the fearsome duo of Wesley Hall and Roy Gilchrist in India in 1958.

 

Later in 1962-63, after being omitted from the Test team, again while dueling against Roy Gilchrist, Charlie Stayers, Chester Watson and Lester King when the quartet was here during the domestic season to give match-practice to Indians against genuine pace, Roy showed he was still the best Indian opening batsman against raw, liquid, sizzling pace. All four of them at the time of their departure loudly claimed in the national print media that Pankaj Roy was the best batsman against fast bowling they had met in India.

 

But surprising enough Roy never quite mastered the art of combating the moving ball. This too was quite amazing because on the softish, grassy Calcutta wickets the medium-paced seamers dominated. Even the moisture-laden heavy atmosphere assisted the bowlers who relied on swing. At Calcutta both against seam and swing, Pankaj Roy was simply outstanding with prolific performances. To score consistently against superb exponents like Montu Banerjee, Montu Sen, Premangshu Chatterjee, Dattu Phadkar and Durga Shankar Mukherjee was no easy matter.

 

But he did it repeatedly. Yet the moving ball proved Roy’s undoing time and again, especially on both his tours to England. If anything Roy was an enigma even to those closest to him. I strongly suspect that he could not cope with the less than very bright sun-light in the UK. Wherever he got bright sun-lit skies abroad, in West Indies and in Pakistan, he was a success. In time he had to wear spectacles to clear his suspect vision, of which he was quite unaware!

 

He put in hours of practice at the nets. He did not believe in rest and recreation. Cricket was his mission, his religion, his life. If he could have spent more than 24 hours a day at cricket, he would have done so most willingly! His work ethic was not normal. His activity and rest all merged into his cricket. Every net session, every friendly match, every club match, every first-class match would have the same focus as if he was playing a Test match. For him a Test match was no different from any other match: the same concentration, the same application and the same execution.

 

Once I asked him about his preparation for Test matches. He said that he did not differentiate between the levels of cricket in matches. For him the preparation for a club or first-class match would be the same as for a Test match! Still I insisted, “But Pankajda, there must be a difference between preparing to face Roy Gilchrist on one hand and Deblaskhar of Assam on the other.” He smiled, “Raju, are you playing the bowler or the ball? Tui ki pagol? (Are you crazy?). If you concentrate on the bowler’s name, how can you concentrate on the ball? No, no, that was not my way.”

 

This is Pankajda at his best. Charming and modest always; never trying to impose; no unnecessary technical jargon; no silly motivational theories. He was essentially a simple, uncomplicated man without any pretensions. His life as well as his cricket was entirely based on statistics. He was an instinctive batsman with a fantastic ball-sense.

 

“How would you motivate yourself, Pankajda?” He was straight to the point, “I have no idea about this modern idea of motivation. My idea always was, when you are playing for a team you should have the urge to help the cause of the team. If this urge does not lead to encouraging yourself to do well, then I do not know what else will help. I always liked to play with the India cap on. That gave me a great thrill and confidence. But you do it your way.” Simple and straight, that is exactly how he was. Marvellous in his simplicity.

 

Pankaj Roy was never an opener in his early days. Basically a middle-order batter, he began his Ranji Trophy career with a century on debut batting way down the order, as Merchant would in his early days.

 

Yet Pankaj Roy fashioned himself to become an opener as he later said that he felt that it would be easier to come into national reckoning as an opener. His bull-dog tenacity duly helped him to achieve his primary objective when he went out to open the Indian innings at Delhi with his idol Vijay Merchant in November 1951. After scoring a century in that innings, Merchant retired from Test cricket, leaving his crown for Roy to wear. Roy wore the crown for 10 long years. No other Indian opener matched him in courage, temperament and performance between 1951 and 1961.

 

In his Test debut series he scored the first of his 5 Test centuries in 1951 against Howard’s England (MCC) team. In that series against Brian Statham, Derek Shackleton, Fred Ridgway among others, Roy scored another century and with an aggregate of at 55.28 cemented his position as the country's foremost opener. His second century at Chennai helped skipper Hazare’s team to record India’s first-ever victory over England.  

 

 Roy's batsmanship was not based on classic cricket techniques. I doubt if he even cared to study those. His whole cricket evolved from the solid foundation of courage, concentration and application. He relied on his phenomenal mental strength. Without knowing it himself, he was a living example of what the mind could achieve if the powers of concentration were powerful enough. The very fact that he held a bat in his hands was motivation enough for him to apply himself for cent per cent effort.

 

His powers of concentration were phenomenal. His contemporaries say that he hardly ever spoke, almost never replied, rarely gestured while at the crease. Was he a kind of mendicant while batting? Most probably, yes. An incident of 1967 comes to mind. His last year of club cricket coincided with the first of mine for a 'major' club. He was batting against Suprakash Som, a very lively fast bowler, and Ramesh Bhatia, a genuine seamer of distinction, with utter disdain. Not that he was stroking the ball all round the park but the calm assurance suggested complete contempt for the bowling.

 

 That was his last innings in club cricket, Sporting Union versus Mohun Bagan at Eden Gardens. In trying to flick, he top-edged Som to test me with a ‘dolly’ catch at mid-on. After the match concluded all the Mohun Bagan players went to the Sporting Union dressing room to shake hands with him. He was very moved and kept smiling.

 

 I used to idolize him and he knew it. So I took the liberty to say, “Pankajda, I hope you never play competitive cricket again, so that I can claim that I had taken your last catch!” Had a hearty laugh and patted me on the back, “Raju, do not worry. Once I have decided it’s over, it’s over for good.”

 

 To an impressionable young mind of a 17 year-old teenager, he appeared to be like a machine in motion. Or, shall I say, a sage in deep contemplation? Unflappable concentration, absolute application, totally immersed within himself he appeared to me. He appeared to be in perpetual duel with a ball coming towards him. At the time he was very slow on his feet, the reflex of his prime had gone, yet he was toying with men who were at the top in Indian domestic cricket at the time.

 

About 15 years later I received a call from my idol, Pankajda. From the other end the voice was crystal clear, “Raju, my eldest son is applying for a job at a MNC. I want you to write a letter of recommendation.” I was aghast, “Who me? You know the world. Everyone respects you. I cannot possibly be the right man.” Now the voice was serious, “I want only you to write, no one else. I know whom I have asked. I shall have the letter picked up from your place tomorrow.” The humility of the man was amazing.

 

True to Pankajda’s premonition the son deservingly got the job and had the decency to remember, even decades later, to remind me that I had written the recommendation. I embraced him, “I merely carried out the command of my idol. You deserve to be where you are.” Pankajda was universally liked and admired. He could have asked any prominent personality to write the important letter. But then the enigmatic gentleman chose a non-entity like me! Why? Why? Why?

 

 Pankaj Roy's mysterious ways went beyond his own cricket career. For a man of his vast experience (43 Tests, 2442 runs at 32.56 with 5 Test centuries), he was generally non-communicative. His Bengal team peers say that he hardly ever guided anyone; never offered opinions. Even later when he was a national and State selector, Pankaj Roy's much sought-after guidance or encouragement never reached anyone. Was it his innate unassuming modesty? No one would ever know.

 

 Even in his life style he continued to confuse. For a man of his wealthy background (the famed zamindars of Bagyakul, now in Bangladesh) he was simplicity personified. He could have employed chauffeurs and have owned top-bracket cars, but he preferred his motor-cycle! Was it just a case of simple living? I doubt if anybody would ever venture forth to unravel the mystery of Pankaj Roy.

 

Pankajda always maintained cricket was a game of aim. The more diversions you have, that much less would be your concentration. This was as if he was describing Arjuna, the great Pandava, at the archery contest to win Draupadi. Arjuna’s concentration was such that on the reflection he did not notice the fish, nor the eyes but only the iris. Pankaj Roy always maintained, “Please watch only the ball and play accordingly.” Superlative lesson in concentration and application.

 

For exactly a decade he was the principal opener of India. Apart from Vijay Merchant earlier and Sunil Gavaskar later no other India opening batter has had such a permanent position as Roy had. But even his career-graph is as enigmatic as the man himself. He began his career with an average of 55.28 with 2 centuries in his debut series and immediately after finished his first England tour with 7.71 and 5 noughts in 7 innings!

 

Against Pakistan on the known Indian wickets he had a lean series but in Pakistan he was a man rejuvenated. On matting wickets he was not used to batting, yet his batting on the mats in Pakistan flowered. Against the world’s best medium pacer Fazal Mahmood – a great match-winner on any pitch, especially on matting – Roy was quite at ease!

 

On his only tour to West Indies in 1953 he was magnificent with 383 runs at 47.87 with 150 and 85 on the lightning fast track at Kingston. And then on his last tour to England he began with 54 and 49 at Trent Bridge only to confound us with just 76 runs in the next 8 innings. Truly an enigma; a most mysterious performer.

 

Enigma or not, there is no denying that his place in the history of world cricket will never be erased. For he happens to be the other half of the pair that headed the list of 1st wicket Test match partnerships. Pankaj Roy in the company of Vinoo Mankad registered the world's highest ever opening stand of 413 runs at Madras against New Zealand in 1955. Roy's share was 173, which happened to be his highest score in Test cricket. This 1^st wicket record stood for over 50 years till it was overtaken in 2007.

 

Roy was omitted from the India team in 1961-62 after he had scored 23 against Pakistan at Bombay. Being dropped from the India team, gave the phlegmatic opener a very severe jolt. True to his determined character he set about to prove the selectors wrong. And how well he did is a part of cricket folklore today. Roy scored 4 Ranji Trophy centuries and one Irani Trophy hundred in 4 matches including 2 against Hyderabad, which included the fiery speedster Roy Gilchrist of West Indies. But the expected call never came.

 

Those two knocks have gone into the annals of cricket forever. He took the bullets of Gilchrist on his chest. Never flinched. Ignored the curses. Once Gilchrist bowled from about 18 yards to injure him but couldn’t. In 1977 I met a graying Roy Gilchrist at Saddleworth Leagues in Yorkshire and asked him about Pankaj Roy. He hesitated for a moment, reflected, “Maan, I tell you that fella had raw guts. Cursed him, hit him but he didn’t back away. He wore glasses on his eyes, maan. Couldn’t break them! Ha! Ha!” Highest compliments from a man whose fearsome pace batters avoided like plague.

 

 Roy came near to scoring his 5th century in 5 successive innings when he scored 84 against Bombay. The innings was cut short by a dreadful lbw decision. The sportsman that he was, he left the crease without even a shake of his head. To express his disappointment he just patted the ground a few times with the toe of his bat! That’s all; no words, no gestures. Within a month he took his revenge with a superb 132 for Rest of India against the inevitable Ranji Trophy champions Bombay at his favourite ground, CCI’s Brabourne Stadium.

 

In the Ranji Trophy championship Pankaj Roy was a virtual institution by himself. He made 5149 runs at 66 with no less than 21 centuries, which at the time of his retirement was the highest number recorded by an individual. He served Bengal and East Zone with complete sincerity and total dedication.

 

 

But, unfortunately, left a trail of unhappy youngsters who thought that he played a few seasons too many thereby depriving them of their opportunities. And also that he was never around to give anyone a helping hand or words of encouragement. If only he had been a little more communicative to his lesser contemporaries and to the younger lot he would have received their unstinted reverence.

 

 Even as a national selector he was a misfit because he never found the time or the inclination to watch matches. Hardly kept track of what was happening in domestic cricket championships. But then the enigmatic man as a selector was no less enigmatic than he was as a cricketer.

 

Arjuna award, Padma award, Sheriff of Calcutta all these honours came to this most deserving cricketer. But what gave him the most satisfaction was when he led India at Lord’s in 1959. India began brilliantly with Desai and Surendranath capturing 7 wickets for 100 but India’s slipshod catching helped England to recover and ultimately win. That Test was his greatest moment and his greatest regret as well.

 

Once in 1978 I met Pankajda at Eden just after returning from a Ranji Trophy match at Dibrugarh. He put his right-arm on my shoulder and smiled, “Raju, heard from the manager how the captain sacrificed his wicket to enable Fucha (Pranab Roy, his son) to get his Ranji hundred on debut.” The warmth of the arm was full of gratitude. Pranab went for a non-existent double and I left my crease as he was in his 80s.

 

Personally I consider myself lucky to have played and interacted with my childhood idol. Although quite reticent, he appeared to be fond of me. But he remained an enigma till his last day: totally unfathomable, unpredictable, whimsical.

 

All along a delightful gentleman of uncomplicated simplicity.