 Punditji
Manohar Sharma was one of the senior cricketers in the State Bank of India Hyderabad team when I joined it in 1972. He was already a greying elder statesman of the side, probably in his thirties then, but alleged by leg pullers to be at least ten years more ancient. He was a shrewd, cheerful man of stocky build and healthy appetite, a Hindi-speaking vegetarian Brahmin from Indore, whom wartime short service in the armed forces had brought to Hyderabad in the late 1960s. He liked the place and settled down there once he got selected as a probationary officer in the bank as part of a quota for army officers. A natural PR man, he gravitated to the public relations function in the bank after serving his mandatory stint as branch manager, one of the branches he headed being the Trimulgherry office in the cantonment area of
Secunderabad.
Sharma was a sticky customer with his determined, if often unentertaining approach to batting, but great value to a team overabundant in
stroke makers, as ours was. Unknown to me, at least in the early days of my career, he kept an avuncular eye on me and wished me well, seeing in me a spark of talent meant for higher honours. As at the time no honours had come my way, it meant that he believed I should at least be allowed to play some cricket.
There came a time when I had to decide to give up cricket, as I was no more than a spare tyre in the SBI team, needed only when one of our regulars (including guest players preferred to me) was not available for some reason. Having been recruited as an officer for reasons other than cricket, I could not complain if my manager did not allow me time to practise with the cricket team or play matches for the bank. My boss H V Rangaswami was a kindly man, but also a professional, so it was but natural that he asked me not to make a trip to Madras to take part in the inter-circle match unless I
was sure of being in the playing eleven. It was a busy time in the office for us field officers in the small industries business division and his was a fair proposal, so I went to my captain D Govindraj and explained the situation. He promised I would play at Madras, but once there, promptly dropped me from the XI.
That settled it for me and when we came back, I withdrew from cricket and concentrated on my job and spent more time in the company of my young wife. It was at this time that 'Sharmaji' or 'Punditji', as we called Manohar Sharma, summoned me one morning to his cabin and tried to persuade me to change my mind, as he believed I had a bright future in cricket. I was deeply moved by his concern but stood firm in my resolve. In a couple of months' time, however, Sharmaji and my other teammates succeeded in literally abducting me from home to play a match, which turned out to be the beginning of a new, happy chapter of my cricket career, as it turned out. So, whenever, I look back on my wonderful days of cricket under the sun, I cannot help remembering Punditji.
Punditji did yeoman service as the sheet anchor of the SBI team and he continued to play Ranji Trophy cricket for Madhya Pradesh, if I remember right. He was also a very useful off spinner, especially when we wanted the batsmen to be kept quiet. Surprisingly for a dour, defensive batsman, he could belt the ball quite effectively in limited overs cricket. Many opponents did not know this, until they found out to their own disadvantage in a match. One amusing incident involved the Andhra Bank skipper Abdul Hai and spinner Meher Baba who had strict instructions not to dismiss Sharmaji
in the wrong belief he could not score quickly. Meher dutifully tried to keep Sharmaji quiet with some innocuous stuff aimed at his pads, but the batsman managed to hit it hard and straight to Abdul Hai, who took the catch, yet chided Meher for getting Sharmaji out!
Once we got to know Punditji well, we youngsters felt free to tease him and he took it all sportingly. I even forgot myself enough once to lose my temper with him, something you never did with seniors you respected, and he not only accepted my outburst without a murmur, he did not refer to it later after tempers had cooled down. It was a hard fought match we lost narrowly after four days of struggle, and I had long spells in torrid conditions in both innings. Sharmaji had left the field early in the final moments of the match because he had a train to catch, and as he came up to me in the dressing room to commiserate with me for the defeat despite my 'great' efforts, I snapped at him, as I believed we could have won if he had been on the field. I was being wholly unfair to him, but he took it on his chin like a true soldier.
Sharmaji was a great tourist, superb company on the long evenings of cricket tours. He laughed loudest and longest at the pranks his teammates played on him, as when MAK Pataudi left a dead alligator in his bed on a tour of the West Indies. (I personally do not care for that kind of practical joke, but if Punditji minded, he never showed it). His lovely wife cooked delicious meals and all of us enjoyed the lavish hospitality of the Sharma household at Begumpet, whenever we were invited there for a meal. I know that they have settled in the twin cities post retirement, and look forward to visiting them when I go there next.
V Ramnarayan
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