Monohar Aich & BJP

Monohar Aich was among the first sportspersons in India to join a political party. Sportspeople devoting time to political ideologies were almost unheard of in the 1990s. Tiger Pataudi and Palvankar Baloo were exceptions.

 In the 1991 general elections in India, actor Victor Banerjee was a BJP candidate for the parliament from Calcutta north-west constituency. Champion body-builder Monohar Aich, winner of Mr Universe title in US, joined BJP and was at the dais during campaigns.

With his world-wide experience, he harped on the issues of ‘one nation; one law’ (as is normal in almost all countries) and the Kashmir problem (Sec 370). The themes in India were of course originally conceived by Syama Prasad Mookerjee (Bharatiya Jan Sangh) and later advocated by his secretary Atal Behari Vajpayee (Bharatiya Janata Party).

At an election campaign in 1991 when the prominent BJP leader Tapan Sikdar was told that Monohar Aich would be one of the speakers, he politely asked who the gentleman was. One man told him, “Tapanda, ooni amader Pocket Hercules.” Parliamentarian Sikdar was taken aback but instantly recovered, “Great news. My boyhood hero. Sorry, I had forgotten his actual name!”

Sorry we are going ahead of the actual sequence of events.

In 1951 when Monotosh Roy returned from USA with the ‘Mr Universe’ title, the Indians were aghast. No one could visualize that an Indian was capable enough to compete with the world’s best and become a world champion at an international body-building contest.

Thankfully Amrita Bazar Patrika of Calcutta – a newspaper involved with the nationalist movement in the pre-independence days – highlighted the news item to show that the Indians were in no way inferior to any other nationality in the world in any endeavour. Independent India actually had a world champion among us in an individual event.

The Olympic hockey gold medal we were used to, but a world champion in an individual contest, especially body-building, was beyond belief. Born in 1916 Monotosh Roy spent a life in total devotion to his worship of the physical self. He knew and preached that a healthy body meant a healthy mind. He was a trail-blazer as a coach to numerous Indian body-builders.

***

 In the following year in 1952 another man from Calcutta, Monohar Aich created a sensation in US. He walked away with the ‘Mr Universe’ title with ease. Extrovert and demonstrative, he held the audience in awe.

Monohar Aich was just under 5 feet in height. Initially the judges were not too impressed because of his height. But when he began to display the supple movements of his muscles, the crowd went into raptures. The judges were unanimous in granting him the title.

The media in United States began to call him ‘Pocket Hercules’. The name stuck and even today people identify him more by his nickname than by his actual name of Monohar Aich. One really cannot blame Tapan Sikdar!

Monohar Aich continued with his worship of ‘body-culture’. Observing his dedication, hundreds of young men began to congregate at gymnasiums. A distinct culture of ‘body beautiful’ emerged.  Monohar Aich maintained his amazing body till his last breath in 2016 at the age of 104.  Hundreds of his disciples as well as his numerous admirers mourned his departure.  

Both Monotosh Roy and Monohar Aich were not recognized by the Government of India for their exemplary service to the nation. Both gave a distinct respectability to the culture of body-building in India by winning the world crown. But their contribution went unheralded. We seemed to have had no time or inclination to honour our genuine world champions.

The stories of Indian champions should be in the text books of children. Only then we shall be able to spread the sports culture to every nook and corner of the country. High time we highlighted our sports heritage.

In the picture Monohar Aich is in the company of Vishnukant Shastri, myself, Sukumar Banerjee (then president of Bengal BJP) and Tapan Sikdar while campaigning for Victor Banerjee at Netaji Indoor Stadium in 1991.

 

Shyam Sundar Mitra: an artist who never compromised

When cricket connoisseurs including Sunil Gavaskar talk of Shyam Sundar Mitra invariably they remember him as the most deserving middle-order batsman who never represented India.  His career ran along the lines of Veda Vyas’ heroic warrior Karna: forever in neglect, but cannot be disregarded for his outstanding merit.

SS, to his friends and foes, did not believe in joining groups; had no desire to have ‘backers’; hated sycophancy. He was his own man: aware of his capabilities and in complete control of himself. Destiny decided that he be neglected and rejected by the mediocrity around him. But again like Karna, SS stood tall and independent on his own merit.

In a sea of corrupt influences, invariably enough, he paid for his uprightness. While Shivalkar and Goel lost out on a Test place because of the looming presence of Bishan Bedi, SS was tripped for a strange reason. A very domineering national selector hailing from Bengal wanted SS to play for his club in Calcutta. But SS preferred to be loyal to Mohun Bagan AC which he adorned with dignity and pride from 1964 to 1974. The price for his integrity was to remain in oblivion forever.

SS graced Bengal and East Zone teams for more than a decade. An aggregate of 3058 at 50.13 from 59 first-class matches is a phenomenal feat on uncovered and spinner-friendly Indian pitches of the 60s and 70s. His 7 centuries included two against the might of Bombay of those days. He had two more against Indian Railways in one match as well.

As if this was not enough, he scored a masterly hundred against the great Vinoo Mankad on a matting wicket at Udaipur. Those who thought he was weak against genuine pace got their answer when he notched 98 against the fiery and fearsome West Indies fast bowler Roy Gilchrist who had sent shivers down the spine of our Test batters.

Exemplary concentration, unruffled temperament, cultured stroke-play and an impregnable defence were the hall marks of his skills. His batsmanship was based on classical lines. He preferred the ‘back and across’ movement at the crease but whenever the opportunity arose he would go half-forward and drive on the up. Like the persona, his bat was always straight. That most difficult of cricket strokes – the on-drive off the back-foot – was his copyright trademark and he accomplished it with rare grace. His batsmanship was a visual delight. Handsome of bearing, the chiselled face topped a lithe physique of 6 feet.

SS had a terrific sense of humour: the dry, cultured wit of PG Wodehouse, whose books he would read on tours. Someone once mocked, “Shyamu, tui boddo kaalo.  (your complexion is very dark).” Instantly he smiled, “So would you be, if you were to bat in the sun for as long as I do.”

His straight face sarcasm we relished. Once he remarked to a batter, who was out off the first ball he faced, “If you keep batting in this way, your bat will last a lifetime!” His dry wit extended to the ground as well. “Two on his shoulders, one on his waist and one on his lap!” was a typical skipper SS’s way of setting the field for two slips, one short leg and one silly-point!

Bapu Nadkarni’s accuracy made batters impatient and invariably they perished trying to hit him across the line. So SS’s prescription was, “Don’t you know that Bapu is non-violent? He does not like violence; so don’t try to hit him!”

My first real look at him was at Mohun Bagan AC, a club I joined at 17 after my ISC exam. He was our captain. It was a delight to see him use the bat as a violin. Melody flowed as he middled the ball. My impressionable mind realized that this man was different, far ahead of any of his contemporaries.

 I became the Ekalavya to his Dronacharya. Tried to pick up the finer points by observing, evaluating and practising. Subconsciously the style became ingrained. One championship-winning partnership with him against Guha and Doshi taught me more about batting than anything that I had learned earlier.

Mohun Bagan lost 5 wickets for 70 odd, when I joined him at the crease. I asked him what I should do? He replied, “Use the bat to survive.” I again asked, “But there is a crisis. Any instruction?”

He furrowed his eyes, “What crisis? If others fail, that’s not your problem. Can you take the responsibility of all other batters? If you are not good enough, you will also get out. That’s it. Arre, baba, think of yourself first. If you score runs, those runs will be added to the team’s total.”

I reckon SS never took a fancy to me when we were together in Mohun Bagan for about 3 years. Not that he criticized me, but he would never praise. Nothing I did seemed to satisfy him. He seemed to have no time for others. Probably his approach was the correct approach. Why would he come forward with suggestions, when not asked?

Years later, after I got a match-winning 99 against Kapil Dev and Rajinder Goel at Eden Gardens, SS – at the time a Bengal selector – wryly smiled, “Ah! Captain, I see you have got the right role-model. I quite like the style.” That was enough for me. High praise from a man who was unaware that he was my batting idol ever since I first saw him bat.

Yes, Shyamuda, you were my role-model. God has taken you to a better place.

 

 Syama Prasad Mookerjee and West Bengal Day

20^th June is a very significant date for the residents of West Bengal. On that day in 1947 a resolution was passed in the then Bengal assembly that the western part of Bengal would remain a part of independent India.

Prior to this day, a meeting was held in early April at the temple town of Tarakeshwar by the Bangiya Hindu Mahasabha. The leader was the educationist-social worker turned politician Syama Prasad Mookerjee.

My grandfather Amulya Ratan Mukherji – a distant cousin of Syama Prasad and an active member of Bangiya Hindu Mahasabha – attended the meeting at the Shaiva-teertha and remembered the historic date till his last breath.

That particular conference helped to mobilize public awareness among the Hindu population in Bengal and finally led to the creation of the State of West Bengal. Without the great role of Syama Prasad Mookerjee, there would not have been any West Bengal on the India map today.

Initially Syama Prasad was against the partition of Bengal from the Union of India. Despite his best and tireless efforts, when Syama found that the partition of India was almost confirmed and that the entire State of Bengal would become a part of the new nation of Pakistan, he was at his eloquent and energetic best.

Full of logic and courage, analysis and authority, he declared that if Bengal would have to be divided then the Hindu-dominated parts of Bengal should also have their rightful due. Thankfully the majority of the political personalities involved concurred with him. Thus the State of Bengal was truncated into West Bengal and East Pakistan.

Without him there would not have been any West Bengal at all. Syama Prasad’s idea of West Bengal was not only for Hindus: it was open to all religions as well as to atheists and agnostics. It was not only for the Bengali-speaking population: it welcomed all communities and faiths who wished to make Bengal their home. This was the vital contribution of this exemplary visionary.

In the late 1930s Syama Prasad Mookerjee joined Hindu Mahasabha who were fighting for the Hindu majority of the population in the country. Later he formed his own political party Bharatiya Jan Sangh, the forerunner to the BJP. His personal secretary Atal Bihari Vajpayee always admitted that he learnt political etiquette, ideology and administration at the feet of his guru, Syama Prasad.

My Dadu always maintained, “Syama would never say ‘Jan Sangh’. His booming voice would always say with pride ‘Bharatiya Jan Sangh’. He was that kind of a patriot. For him the word BHARATIYA symbolized national unity. Great soul.”

 Cricket followers may be reminded that Syama Prasad was among the first to raise his voice against inter-community cricket championships in India, which was ultimately banned in 1946. It began in 1892. For him the inter-religious faith competition went against the basic concept of national ethos.

This year – thanks to the political progeny of Syama Prasad – on Saturday the 20^th of June the birthday of West Bengal will be officially acknowledged for the first time. It took us 79 years to celebrate our own birthday!

                                                                                 

 

Kailash Gattani: a pioneer mentor of cricketers

His name is not in the record books. His name did not make the headlines. He did not fish around for compliments. He never stayed close to power-centres. Never received any official awards or accolades. Our Kailash, like Mount Kailash, forever retained a dignified presence.

Kailash Gattani was destined to remain behind the screen and guide others to stardom. Now in retirement, in his heydays too the man was a primal force to help others achieve and fulfill their dreams.

Consistent in his performance at the first-class level for Rajasthan for nearly two decades, many thought that he would become an international cricketer. However, no call ever came to Gattani from the national selectors.

 While many would have left any association with the game in sheer frustration, the social worker in Kailash brought his misfortune to a positive end. He stayed on with his favourite passion and served cricket with full sincerity and integrity.

He conceived of a plan to help young Indian cricketers to thrive and prosper. Kailash decided that he would give exposure in foreign lands to unknown, young Indian cricket talents by taking them abroad. He himself was a beneficiary when he had led the Indian Schoolboys team to Sri Lanka (then Ceylon) in 1963-64 under BCCI’s junior tours programme.

While playing for Kent 2^nd XI he had developed important contacts in UK. With their assistance, he meticulously organized the trips for more than a decade giving rare opportunities to young talents from all over the sub-continent. Star CC would play matches up and down the British Isles in about 25 days at top-quality venues against strong oppositions. Many of the promising players graduated to international cricket and almost all of them achieved first-class status at cricket.

Outstanding cricket patrons like Bhupindrasingh Patiala, Berry Sarbadhikari, Vijay Anand Vizzy and Maan Singh would also organize unofficial tours earlier. All these private cricket teams had established players with a sprinkling of youngsters. But with Kailash Gattani the teams were exclusively for under-19 year olds. This novel concept gave Indian cricket a most distinguished service. The example of Sachin Tendulkar is a case in point. Even before Tendulkar embarked on his international career, he already had the experience of overseas exposure. All this was because of one man’s ingenuity.

 In 1988-89 while involved with India veterans’ matches against Majid Jahangir’s Pakistan, Kailash and I shared hotel rooms. One day he asked me to suggest a few names from among the under-19 east zone talents. That year all-rounder Sourav Ganguly and wicket-keeper Sanjoy Das had done exceptionally well in the under-19 national championship. Accordingly I mentioned their names.

 Next day he had the invitation papers for the two boys ready and requested me to hand it over to them personally at Calcutta on my return. I was indeed pleasantly surprised by his efficiency and his positive spirit. He had not seen them but he selected them without any hesitation entirely on my suggestion. That’s the kind of confidence he reposed in me. There and then I realized that he was a selfless soul without the slightest of silly pretensions.

Kailash never stooped to authority to ‘curry’ favours. Never bothered about media publicity. Cricket enthusiasts came forward on their own to help his team with funds. Even modest amounts and help-in-kind for the young were welcomed by Kailash. I happen to know two of them, Pranay Mondkar and Saktibrata Ratan Dutta. Both deserve my salutes for helping unknown, young talents.

He remains a magnificent example of a man who can turn his own misfortunes to help others fulfil their dreams. A rare individual in any sphere of life. I am proud to call him my friend.

Kailash Gattani is one of the great contributors to Indian cricket. A mentor of many; a role model for many more. May his spirit of selfless service survive in Indian cricket.

 

Miracle at Eden that changed a British tradition

Three Indian cricketers got together to change a British tradition. We are all aware that the Britons are a conservative people, who take great pride in their age-old customs. They are extremely proud of their heritage and their traditional practices.

 But an event that occurred thousands of miles away helped to change the Brits of a practice that remained active for more than 100 years! VVS Laxman, Rahul Dravid and Harbhajan Singh were involved with a miracle in a Test match in 2001 at Eden Gardens.

Following-on, India raced to a decent total and had the Aussies in all sorts of problems as they collapsed on the last day. The victory from imminent defeat by a team after following-on was only the 3^rd instance in the annals of Test cricket since the first Test match in 1877 at Melbourne between Australia and England.

The 1^st instance was in 1894-95 when England captain Andrew Stoddart’s team defeated Australia at Sydney after being asked to bat again. The 2^nd occasion was in 1981 when Mike Brearley’s team had the measure of the Australians at Leeds.

Thankfully neither captain Stoddart nor captain Brearley claimed any undue personal credit for the miraculous victories. They were magnanimous enough to give credit to the principal architects as well as to mention the secondary roles played by the other members of the winning team.

My readers, of course, do remember every detail of that stupendous victory which just celebrated its silver jubilee early this year. Yes, 25 years ago at Eden that miracle of a Test match left behind a whole lot of memories. Even books have been published to highlight the Test victory. Very deservingly so. Ironically a very vital issue related to the Test has been completely ignored in our own country.

Our media hardly realized that that particular victory changed the course of a British tradition of more than 100 years! Britons are a highly conservative people and rightfully take great pride in their traditions and heritage. To alter their own practice reveals the exceptional respect they have for the event and also their liberal views in the face of reason.

The point I am trying to highlight is about Wisden Cricketers’ Almanack, an annual that has been in existence since 1864 and is considered to be the ultimate reference book by all cricket lovers all over the globe. Some even call Wisden, ‘The Bible of Cricket’ such is the reverence for the reference annual.

In every edition Wisden chooses 5 ‘Cricketers of the Year’ from those cricketers who performed in England the previous season. For instance Wisden 1984 selected 5 prominent cricketers who played on British soil in 1983.

But the copy of Wisden 2002 had VVS Laxman as one of the 5 ‘Cricketers of the Year’. This was extremely strange indeed. For Laxman did not play in England at all in 2001. How and why did he figure in Wisden 2002?

The Wisden’s editor of 2002 Graeme Wright was magnanimous and knowledgeable enough to make an exception and had VVS Laxman as one the 5 picks. This was certainly at odds with a very old British tradition.

But it also goes to show how much of respect Laxman received from very knowledgeable quarters. Let Graeme Wright take over, ”…Initially his mission seemed impossible; after a while it had become unbelievable…Despite the tradition that Wisden’s Cricketers of the Year have played in England during the year under review, Laxman immediately became an exception.”

This particular incident happened to be a great contribution of that Test match. The unique victory altered a British tradition. VVS was certainly the chief architect of that miraculous victory with Dravid and Harbhajan in wonderful support.

In India, the artistic genius Laxman’s magnificent prowess has never been properly acknowledged. His superlative performances have attracted only cursory glances as the publicity machinery concentrated on players who did not deserve half as much. That’s the actual culture of Indian sport…

 

Today is the birth centenary of the first Bengali Test cricketer: Probir Kumar  Sen (Khokon)    1926 - 1970

Today if one walks into the CAB club house at Eden Gardens, one would come across a wall in the central lounge where a list of Test players from Bengal appears. The list begins with a glaring error. The first name itself is wrong! Just goes to show how much of pride and interest we have in our own selves! Of course, there are a whole lot of other wrong names in that list, as well.

Over the last 15 years the list with the embarrassing errors has stayed on despite repeated requests to alter. No CAB president has shown any interest in having the list rectified. Complete ignorance?  Or, sheer indifference?

Unfortunately even an erudite man like Sunil Gavaskar fell into the trap and once commented in his television broadcast that the first Bengali Test player was Shute Banerjee! Sunil of course was relying on the piece of information available to him in the official site of CAB. Shute Banerjee’s name is prominently displayed on the CAB lounge to mislead the whole world.

Shute Banerjee was representing Bihar when he made his Test debut for India in 1948-49 at Bombay in the 5^th and final Test of the series.

The first Bengali player to play for India was not Shute Banerjee , but Probir Kumar Sen, popularly known as Khokon. In 1947-48 he went with skipper Lala Amarnath’s team to Australia as the second wicket-keeper to Jamshed Irani. But after two Tests the team management realized that they had made a blunder by omitting Sen from the first XI.

Just out of teens, Khokon Sen brought about a radical change in the ethos of Indian cricketers. Joking, chatting, playing pranks, the vivacious youngster injected some fresh air in the claustrophobic ambience of Indian cricket. He was not a rebel in the conventional sense. He was not fighting for any cause. He was just himself: extrovert, entertainer, energy personified.

Perpetually on the move, he seemed to be. Came into national reckoning by his superlative talents. He had no Dutta Ray or Dalmiya to plead for him. He was an independent individual who cared little about what others felt about him. Not a respecter of persons or things, he maintained his originality in every step of his. He did not join groups, nor did he fall for any ‘carrots’ dangled. He maintained his composure, come rain, hail or sunshine.

Khokon Sen’s career was a massive mass of misunderstanding. People enjoyed his company but ridiculed him behind his back. He was always thought to be pompous because of his very close rapport with royalty. Actually he was an extrovert with the softest of souls. Just as he was close to the maharajas so was he to the masseur, particularly Jeevanlal Pal.

The Maharaja of Cooch Behar, Jagaddipendra Narayan Bhup Bahadur, who was very popular as ‘Bhaya’, was an elder brother to Khokonda. They were very thick friends on and off the field. Bhaya captained Bengal in the Ranji Trophy in the 1940s while Probir Sen took over in the following decade.

Khokonda’s hearty laughter was as appealing as his big heart. Hailing from a wealthy family, the generous persona loved having people around him to relax and regale. With Bhaya, he would be seen at social clubs, palaces, angling expeditions and shikaars. He enjoyed the best of liquor and was voracious with Continental cuisine, particularly crabs and prawns, but made no effort to feel defensive about either.

Unfortunately his gregarious nature, his easy laughter, his practical jokes were thought to be of a man yet to mature. His Bengal team mates which included Nirmal Chatterjee (Bengal’s best-ever all-round sportsman) and Badal Dutt (Bengal captain and Cambridge University Blue) as well as the Test cricketer Montu Banerjee loved and adored him. Even the great Indian contemporaries like Vinoo Mankad, Vijay Hazare and Polly Umrigar found him to be excellent company. The fashionable man would wear Barkat Ali suits with felt hats tilted stylishly. Those were the days…

Sen, barely 20 at the time, began at Melbourne and was an instant success with his wicket-keeping. Brilliantly acrobatic, he was an extrovert character who just could not keep quiet. He would chatter constantly from behind the wicket with the fieldsmen and the bowlers. He would liven up a dreary, boring afternoon on the field with his incessant fund of stories.

His exceptional wicket-keeping ability came into focus during the War years when first-class cricket continued in India. He made his Ranji Trophy debut for Bengal in 1943-44 and received high acclaim from all quarters. Born in 1926 at Comilla         (now in Bangladesh), Khokon Sen showed exceptional promise as an all-round sportsman from his school days.

His contemporaries found the young man –full of humour and highly pro-active – a delight. His child-like simplicity attracted attention. He was full of pranks even in State-level matches. He was always doing the unexpected. Not an ‘opener’, he once opened the innings and got a century in Ranji Trophy.

If this was not enough, once he took off his gloves and began to bowl. The umpire asked, “Over-the-wicket? Or, round?” The instant answer was, “Sir, from beside the wicket, if you do not mind.” Believe it or not, he actually has a hat-trick in Ranji Trophy. Wonder if this is a world record for a wicket-keeper.

It is said that Bill Ferguson, the famous scorer, once told Sen that he reminded him of the England wicket-keeper George Duckworth who also had the habit of constant chatter. Sen turned round and told him, “I don’t just talk and talk. I guide. I give encouragement.” And then in his typical camaraderie embraced Ferguson and went for a round of beer. No wonder the Indians were very popular as tourists those days.

Sen had a very happy tour on and off the field in Australia. On a disastrous tour, apart from Hazare, Mankad and to an extent Dattu Phadkar, the youngest member Sen was an outstanding success. Being a superb social-mixer, he became the toast of the evenings when the Indians would spend a lot of time with Don Bradman for advice. In the match against South Australia he flashed off Bradman’s bails with lightning speed on the very difficult leg side. Bradman, true to his character, was full of praise for young stumper’s speed, anticipation and agility.

On that tour of Australia, every Indian cricketer was offered the scope to say two sentences over the long-distance phone that had just been introduced between India and Australia. Almost all the players said that they were fine except, of course, the one and only Khokon Sen. When his turn came, the 20-year old Khokon shouted, “Dadu, send money. Nothing left!” That was typical of him: no other message worthy enough! He endeared himself to all those who played with and against him.

Sen played for India against West Indies at home in 1948-49 then went to England in 1952 as well as was a regular in the national team at the time. Although a regular member the opportunities were sadly limited to only 14 Tests.

The highpoint of his career was the victory at Madras in 1951-52. Skipper Vijay Hazare’s team defeated Nigel Howard’s MCC very convincingly with Roy and Umrigar getting hundreds and Vinoo Mankad capturing 12 wickets. They were the prime architects of the victory.

But one man made headlines from an unusual position. That was Khokon Sen. He had a hand in 5 stumpings. This was exemplary wicket-keeping no doubt but what was more appealing was the man’s stage-craft. One moment he would be throwing the ball up and juggling with it. Next moment he would start to roll on the ground to the cheers of the crowd. And in the very next instant he would be running around the pitch with the ball in hand like a goal-scorer in football. Sen captivated the audience and the media lapped it up. He was indeed a born showman.

I met him just once. Was the year 1970? I distinctly remember the date 26^th January for many reasons than the obvious one. I was a member of the Mohun Bagan team which went to Kalighat Club ground to play an exhibition match. Our captain was the mercurial Chuni Goswami.

Just prior to the match, our dressing room vibrated with the laughter of a diminutive, stocky man of around 45. Unmistakably Khokon Sen. He was cracking jokes with Chunida, Shyamuda and my elder brother Deb when his eyes fell on me. “Who’s this?” he furrowed his eyebrows. Someone mentioned, “Deb’s younger brother.”  “Deb’s brother?” he fumed, “Unshaven? You must try to look like a cricketer.”

Like most precocious college youth, I had little respect for persons who had no time for me. I coolly uttered, “Sir, have you not heard of WG Grace?” There was pin-drop silence. Stunned, Khokonda instantly recovered, smiled, put his hand on my shoulder, “Son, why hide your handsome face with a beard?” I forced a smile in return. As Khokonda left our room, my brother was furious with me for my silly response.

Little did we realize that the famous man had come to take an active part in that ‘friendly’ fixture. He had come in cream flannels and had his India blazer on. He was well past his prime and had not played at all for over a decade. Why did he decide to play that particular match will forever be a question that would go unanswered.

Next afternoon we heard that Khokonda was no more. After the match he had some spurious rum that burnt his gullet. What a dreadful death for a cheerful man. I happened to be his last victim as a wicket-keeper. He held my ‘edge’ – a simple, straight forward catch – and then leaned to his right, allowed the body to fall gently and roll over in front of second slip! For ever a showman. A lovable gentleman. A wonderful human being.

I have the highest regard for him because he was a true sportsman: modest, humourous, determined, chivalrous and highly talented. Khokonda was incapable of hurting anyone. A man who had given endless hours of mirth to all around him.

His approach to life revolutionized cricket in India to a great extent. It is not commonly realized that this man of wit was a messenger of life-style. He was like Charlie Chaplin the immortal of the film world: humour laced with message. To bring about changes he did not fight with anyone. Through his child-like simplicity he made others realize their folly. Back-stabbing, conspiracies, groupism, loose-talk, parochialism, etcetera which had inundated Indian cricket at the time gradually became severely restricted.

 He brought about a silent revolution in Indian cricket with his characteristic sense of humour. He was not a rebel with a whole lot of causes. His rebellion was one of approach. Through personal example, he planted the idea of enjoyment among Indian players: sport was meant to be enjoyed; sport was for providing entertainment to others; sport was a delightful means to camaraderie; sport was life to be lived.

The charming rebel of Indian cricket left us at 45, much too early. It is said… those whom the gods love, leave young…

 

 

 

India’s first double-international sportsman

It was truly Dickensian: the best of times; the worst of times. Morappakam Joysam Gopalan was in a dilemma. He was needed by the Indian hockey team for the Berlin Olympic Games; he was also required by the Indian cricket team in the English summer of 1936.

 

The man from Chennai had excelled in both his chosen sports. In 1932-33 Gopalan made his official Test debut for India at Eden Gardens against Douglas Jardine's side. In 1934-35 Gopalan had shown outstanding merit with the all-conquering Dhyan Chand’s Indian hockey team in New Zealand. He happened to be India’s first double-international sports personality.

 

 And within a year in 1935-36 he had Jack Ryder's Australians in no end of trouble with figures of 6 for 23 and 5 for 62 for the Madras Presidency team.

 

The right-arm pace bowler had a difficult choice ahead of him because the tours to Germany and England coincided. He had to opt for either one of the two. His choice fell on cricket. On post-mortem it appears to be a strange decision indeed considering the merits of the two teams.

 

The defending Olympic hockey champions, Dhyan Chand’s India were the favourites to retain the gold medal in the Berlin Olympics of 1936. And in England with the cricket team he would only be a second fiddle to the magnificent duo of Mohammed Nissar and Amar Singh Ladha.

 

 But cricket was probably his first love and off he went to England with Vizzy’s Indians. It must also be admitted that the India hockey team for the Berlin Olympic Games was yet to be chosen when the India team for the cricket tour to UK was announced. Gopalan obviously settled for the certainty – as everyone would do – rather than wait for the final selection of the hockey squad.

 

The Dickensian twist to the tale unfolded in a matter of months. Whereas Dhyan Chand's men returned with gold medals around their necks, Vizzy's band of segregated groups showed the world to what depths petty-minded Indian sportsmen could stoop. On such a slender thread hangs one’s destiny.

 

 Gopalan did not get to play a single Test match in UK and got very few opportunities. He and the other in-form fast bowler Shute Banerjee even witnessed how one fast bowler (Baqa Jilani) played a Test (at Oval) because he abused another player (CK Nayudu) as directed by the captain (Vizzy)!

 

The man who deserved an Olympic gold medal round his neck, was cold shouldered by petty people engrossed in intrigues and worse. Just sad destiny, what else?

 

However, by then, Gopalan had already printed his name in gold in the annals of Indian sport by becoming the country's first double-international sportsperson.

 

 In 1961 MJ Gopalan was awarded the Padma Shri. He left us in 2003 fully deserving the awards and recognition that came his way. A wonderful person he was, who earned overwhelming respect both on and off the field. Let us wish that we have more and more such wonderful sportspeople among us.