|
| A journey back in time |
Hyderabad Blues |
This column is not named after the movie of the same name. It's the other way around. Hyderabad Blues, Deccan Blues and Secunderabad Blues were, and still are, well known cricket teams active in the Andhra Pradesh capital. At least the first two were the brainchildren of P R Man Singh, a man who has spent a lifetime either playing or administering cricket or being involved in it in one way or another.
A couple of decades or more ago, he was "Mr. Hyderabad Cricket", whose word was law in the twin cities' cricket circles. Today, the equations have changed, others have taken over from him, while he is left holding on to his memories and occasionally writing about the game and its old-world values.
 This column is not about Man Singh or his teams either, though both will certainly figure in it. It is largely based on my memories of my affair with Hyderabad cricket as it was played and experienced in those hazily remembered times. Those were the days when a certain M L Jaisimha could, with a casual phone call, delay Indian Airlines flight departures to enable ordinary mortals like the author to reach the airport in time - after partaking of his fabled hospitality and being forced to stay on long after the last call for passengers was made at Begumpet Airport.
It is about the romance of tournaments named after nawabs Moinud Dowla and Behramud Dowla, Maharaja Kishan Pershad and Ghulam Ali (surely no relation of the Pakistani ghazal singer?). It is about the aristocrats who from beneath colorful shamianas on winter mornings encouraged the players on the field with genteel applause: "Well bowled Jai," "I say Tiger, that was splendid," "Good for you, Abbas" and so on.
It is about the all-knowing expression on the face of groundsman Venkatswami when he told you: "You want to know how the wicket will behave? Play and see, youngster, just play and see," at the start of the game, and the even more all-knowing expression on his face when he said after the day's play: "Didn't I tell you before the match started? All you needed to do on this pitch was to put the ball in the right place."
It is about characters like the dear friend and teammate who completed a cross-country run during a training camp by rickshaw.
It is about the great friendships I was privileged to enjoy, the absolute loyalty and support of peers and seniors who shaped my career after I landed in Hyderabad one fine morning in July 1971, with faint hope in my heart that my cricket career would resume and flourish there after a year-long gap in an Andhra small town where I had been working.
 It is not easy to talk about your own cricket career, for fear of being ridiculed for being presumptuous enough to write your memoirs as though you were an international star.
Yet, I believe I must tell my story - without being egocentric-to share the joys and sorrows inevitable in a sportsperson's life, to pay my tribute to the wonderful personalities I came into contact with, even to tell readers that cricket can be fiercely competitive and sometimes of a sublime quality at levels below Test cricket.
In the months that follow, I shall try to take readers on a journey back in time in an attempt to recapture the scents and flavours of cricket of a bygone era.
Also by the author: Chennai
Chat, Curdrice Cricket
Profile of V. Ramnarayan
|
