da heads bet： Walking into the Hyderabad team of the 70s meant rubbingshoulders with some of the most glamorous cricketers of the time.I do not remember anything musical about the stylish Abbas AliBaig, a man made famous by a scorcher of a kiss a young femalefan
da pinnacle： V Ramnarayan31-Oct-2017It was wonderful to watch a recent interview of BhagwatChandrasekhar on a popular television programme. Harsha Bhogle,who anchored the show, handled his subject with greatsensitivity and an obvious admiration for the great leg-spinner,whose saga of courage was an integral part of the romance ofIndian cricket in the 60s and 70s.Walking into the Hyderabad team of the 70s meant rubbingshoulders with some of the most glamorous cricketers of the time.I do not remember anything musical about the stylish Abbas AliBaig, a man made famous by a scorcher of a kiss a young femalefan planted on him when he reached fifty against Australia at theBrabourne Stadium.Inevitably, after a conducted tour of the Karnataka bowler’sgreatest and lowest moments in cricket, the conversation veeredaround to his obsession with the film songs of Mukesh, evokingnostalgic memories of a whole generation of young cricketers who,inspired by Chandra, carried Mukesh cassettes and their two-inones everywhere. On a personal level, I experienced a lump in thethroat as I recalled some rare moments of bonding with my peersand seniors on and off the field.Walking into the Hyderabad team of the 70s meant rubbingshoulders with some of the most glamorous cricketers of the time.I do not remember anything musical about the stylish Abbas AliBaig, a man made famous by a scorcher of a kiss a young femalefan planted on him when he reached fifty against Australia at theBrabourne Stadium. The incident, in fact, led commentator VijayMerchant to exclaim, “I wonder where all these enterprising youngladies were when I was scoring my hundreds and two hundreds.”But the former Nawab of Pataudi had a keen ear for music. Hispreferences included Hindustani classical, but also music of alighter variety, as his frequent and stentorian rendering ofMehdi Hassan’s popular ghazal “Gulshan, gulshan” in the dressingroom suggested. Abid Ali was no Harry Belafonte, but he beltedout calypsos in the most uninhibited manner, especially one thatstarted, “The great India bowler, Abid A-a-li.”The skipper, ML Jaisimha, had a superbly masculine voice, and hecould do an impressive imitation of Frank Sinatra. On twooccasions, I was to witness bravura performances by this mostelegant of cricketers – once taking over nonchalantly from a liveband in a fashionable Bangkok restaurant and, years later, at theV Sivaramakrishnan testimonial dinner at the Connemara, when hestruck up an improbable duet with Sunil Gavaskar.An accomplished singer in the Hyderabad team of the 70s wasopener Maheshwar Singh, who specialised in the songs of Jagmohan,a crooner of KL Saigal’s vintage. Maheshwar was a regularperformer at cricketers’ get-togethers, where many otherwise timid bathroom singers opened up because the spirit of thesinger, rather than his virtuosity, mattered in these gatherings,and everyone was assured of hearty applause. Bombay left-armspinner Padmakar Shivalkar was a first-rate singer of Hindi filmsongs; so was Vijay Manjrekar in an earlier era, son Sanjaycarrying on the tradition most admirably.In Tamil Nadu – Chennai in particular – there has been a fairlyclose affinity between musicians and cricket, especially in theform of a fanatical following of the game among Carnaticmusicians. Quite a few of the top young musicians of today haveeither played the game fairly competitively or have parents orclose relatives who have done so. The best known among these isvocalist Unnikrishnan, who was a promising young batsman at thecollege and league level before he decided to concentrate on hissinging.Among the cricketers too, there has been the occasional talentedsinger or instrumentalist. Left-arm spinner Bhargav Mehta, whotook 14 wickets in a Rohinton Baria final against BombayUniversity, was an accomplished vocalist on the college circuit.SJ Kedarnath, a former State Bank of India opening batsman ofconsiderable merit, is a trained “mridangam” player, but of muchgreater entertainment value is his wonderful talent for mimicry.Not only can he do some rip-roaring takeoffs on Tamil Naducelebrities like VV Kumar or Srinivas Venkataraghavan, but he canalso render perfectly acceptable imitations of past masters ofCarnatic music like MD Ramanathan or even the mellifluous femalevoice of DK Pattammal.Thank you Harsha, and thank you Chandra, for bringing backmemories of a cricketing way of life that belonged to an eraaltogether more leisurely than is possible today.
