The Best Of Kumar Gandharva | Audio Jukebox | Vocal | Classical | Music ...

TIGER

 

MASTER OF UNDERSTATEMENT

Mansur Ali Khan Pataudi would have turned 80 yesterday, but he left us a little over nine years ago. Encomiums poured in for the courage that enabled him to play at the highest level despite losing his vision in one of his eyes, his heroic batting exploits on the numerous occasions he triumphed over his disability, his tactical nous as captain of India, and above all, his two major contributions to Indian cricket: the upliftment of fielding standards; and the expulsion of the scourge of regionalism in the team.

There was an inspirational if somewhat unsubtle scene in the Hindi movie Chak De India, in which the coach played by Shahrukh Khan tells the Indian women’s hockey team that they are all India players, not representatives of Maharashtra, Bihar, Bengal or Haryana. Anyone familiar with Indian cricket of the 1960s can easily relate to this scene. It was Pataudi who first spoke those words unequivocally almost as soon as he took charge as captain. He set a personal example by insisting on the best combination being selected no matter where the players emerged from. Yes, he did have his favourites—who, incidentally, all performed—but no one could accuse him of regional bias.  He set high standards as a fielder, proving quicker, more athletic, and accurate (with his brilliant throws) than the youngest members of his team. He demanded bruised knees and turf-stained trousers and shirts from his boys—even if it meant some of them had to incur exorbitant laundry charges as the diving, sliding nawab was known to borrow gear from his teammates after arriving nonchalantly flannel-less at the ground!  

Ajit Wadekar was rightly credited with masterminding India’s first overseas  series wins against West Indies and England, both in 1971. Tiger Pataudi led India to its first Test series victory abroad—by a convincing 3-1 margin over New Zealand in 1968,  after top batsman Graham Dowling (239) and fast bowler Gary Bartlett (6 for 38) had sent the Indians hurtling to a crushing defeat in the second Test at Christchurch. He not only scored consistently, but inspired his colleagues to do their best as well. All rounder Rusi Surti was his faithful lieutenant and tireless soldier,  Wadekar scored the only Test hundred of his career during that series, and EAS Prasanna added 24 more scalps to his impressive 25 Australian victims in the first half of that twin tour. The eight-Test campaign proved that India could compete well abroad. Except for one match, India put up a gallant fight in all four Tests in Australia, though she lost 0-4. The captain, who missed the first Test through a hamstring injury, came in for high praise from the Australian press for his outstanding batting in the series "on one good leg and with one good eye."

Back in India, the home team gave several anxious moments to the touring Australians before the visitors eventually prevailed. The tour by New Zealand that followed perhaps proved Pataudi's undoing as captain. Though it was never officially stated, it was believed  that chairman of selectors Vijay Merchant bludgeoned his way (with his casting vote) through the meeting that deposed Pataudi and anointed Ajit Wadekar India's new captain because he had been dissatisfied with the discipline standards of the team that season. While Pataudi was believed to be no admirer of Vijay Merchant the man, he had huge respect for his batting—and Bombay cricket in general.

Declining invitations to tour abroad again, Tiger made an impressive comeback against England in the 1972-73 season at captain Wadekar's express request, and eventually came back as India captain when Wadekar announced his retirement, hounded by critics after India's disastrous 1974 tour of England. The rest is history, with Pataudi entering his best phase as captain, despite failing abjectly as batsman against the fiery West Indies attack. India fought back after being two down against the mighty West Indies to draw level at 2-2, but was trounced by the tourists, with skipper Clive Lloyd (242) going on a rampage.

Tiger's greatest contribution as India's captain was perhaps the forging of the famed spin quartet and virtually inventing the awesome close-in cordon that was to become the template for many future teams. He was known to favour the Bedi-Prasanna-Chandrasekhar trio, but once said that the fourth spinner S Venkataraghavan would have been a permanent member of his eleven as an all rounder had he paid more attention to batting for which he had considerable talent.

Pataudi's work ethic was unquestionable, but he owed allegiance to an old-fashioned school of thought that believed that what a player did off the field or what hours he kept during match days was entirely his business, so long as he remained match-fit, and delivered on the ground. A whole generation of cricketers could have performed better than they did had there been greater monitoring of their regimen by the team management. India might have emerged sooner as a strong force in world cricket..

Pataudi who never bragged about his achievements was self-deprecatory to a fault. Any underlying sadness about what might have been had he not lost an eye in a car accident was hidden away from the public. He bore personal loss and sorrow stoically, often with a smile. He was a champion of young talent, and many stars benefited from his kindly gaze. GR Viswanath, BS Bedi, BS Chandrasekhar and EAS Prasanna were among those he spotted early, when he was himself not much older than they. He left his home cricket team of Delhi to join his friend ML Jaisimha in the Hyderabad team, and became an honorary 'southerner' in Indian cricket. Crowds in this part of the world loved him. So did his Hyderabad and South Zone teammates, as well as his rivals in the zone. In his last innings at Chepauk, he signed off in great style with 198 against Tamil Nadu in the 1975-'76 season. Few in the 30,000 strong crowd knew it was his farewell knock. Nor did the 21 others who played the match along with him. After all, he was the ultimate master of understatement.

 

Black Leopard and The Animal Communicator, Anna Breytenbach

JAIRANGAM 2020 | PLAYS | WHAT SHE SAID

मोहे पनघट पे नन्द्लाल छेड़ गयो रे Mohe Panghat Pe - HD वीडियो सोंग - लता ...

Kahan Ke Pathik (Bhajan)--D. V. Paluskar

 

N. Sankar, at 75

V. RAMNARAYAN

If S. Muthiah was our founder, N. Sankar was our saviour. As Muthiah never tired of saying, had not Sankar stepped in at a crucial point in the life of Madras Musings and placed it on a sound financial footing with support from multiple corporate houses, the magazine would have been short lived. On the occasion of his 75th birthday, we wish our saviour and patron-in-chief many more years of good health and all happiness – The Editor

A true icon of Indian industry will turn 75 on November 19th. At the forefront of the Indian PVC manufacturing segment for over four decades, N. Sankar, the chairman of The Sanmar Group, presiding over a US $ one billion diversified multinational group, has been a role model for entrepreneurs and institution builders alike, characterised by an unusual combination of business acumen and ethical conviction – upright, farsighted, innovative. A pioneer in PVC manufacture, he was responsible for some of the most original choices made in the field including the highly integrated manufacturing processes at the numerous facilities of Chemplast, its flagship company, now over fifty years old.

Though the son and grandson of trailblazers in the history of south Indian industry and commerce – respectively K.S. Narayanan and S.N.N. Sankaralinga Iyer – Sankar was not born with a silver spoon, certainly not in a career sense. He obtained his B.Sc. (Tech) in Chemical Engineering from the AC College of Technology, Madras, graduating with distinction, and a Masters degree from the Illinois Institute of Technology, Chicago. He joined Chemplast in 1967 to help his father. In an interview years ago for Rediff News by Shobha Warrier, he recalled, “I was born in an entrepreneurial family of three generations, so automatically I also became an entrepreneur. I had no funds of my own to start an enterprise at that time. From 1967 to 1972, I worked with Chemplast, reporting to S. Ramaswamy, the chief executive of the company. I learnt a lot from him in those five years. He taught me simple things from how to draft a letter to how to manage people. Those were the most difficult times for Chemplast. But I learnt to cope with it.”

In 1972, Sankar started his entrepreneurial career, borrowing from friends and investors to acquire a majority stake in a company called Industrial Chemicals and Monomers. Determined to bring in technology to India to manufacture products of excellence as a measure of import substitution, he, all of 26 years old, was writing letters to foreign companies seeking collaboration with them, something very nearly unheard of then.

In search of mechanical seals it needed, Chemplast zoomed in on Durametallic of Michigan as its choice. Durametallic India at Karapakkam. Madras, resulted, growing into what is now Sanmar Engineering Technolgies Private Limited, an engineering group within the Sanmar Group, catering to a wide range of process industries – even India’s space missions – in need of components that principally ensure safety where the slightest risks must be ruled out. Several successful joint ventures have followed Durametallic India (now Flowserve Sanmar).

Sankar has over the decades ensured that these joint ventures with global corporations are models for emulation. He has clearly enunciated a joint venture philosophy which can be summarised somewhat on these lines: Both partners should appreciate the need for the joint venture. They should clearly agree on the way the JV will be managed, they must work towards a system based on trust and transparency. There must be appropriate interaction at different functional levels for the ongoing operations of the JV, and clearly defined high level contacts at both ends for management decision-making on important issues calling for the involvement of both partners. Finally, both partners need to be equally able to serve the growing capital needs of the JV as it expands.

Always leading the way with its concern for the environment, the chemicals division of Sanmar under Sankar has made a fine art of ZLD or zero liquid discharge at its manufacturing facilities, amidst a whole slew of steps taken to ensure sustainable growth.

Corporate governance is an article of faith with Sankar, who must count among his contribution to best practices in business and industry the manner in which Sanmar has evolved a clear-cut management philosophy, its HR policy based on competence and a performance culture, and an elaborately spelt out ethics manual that guides employees on how they can implicitly follow the group’s code of conduct in a variety of circumstances that they may encounter.

Identifying the right person for the right job and empowering his employees to function competently and ethically without fear seem to come naturally to Sankar.

“Strictly follow the law of the land, so that we can all sleep well at night” could well be defined as his paramount mantra to them.

Make no mistake, N. Sankar is a tough, demanding boss. Tasks must be completed in the proper timeframe, decisions should be based on irrefutable logic, information should be communicated clearly, honestly, and such communication has no hierarchy. It only takes him a couple of minutes to see through bluff and inadequate preparation for meetings. He is a master of follow-up, not for him dereliction in the guise of delegation. His attention to detail and meticulous planning do rub off on his managers who are empowered to discharge their responsibilities fearlessly, for so long as they do all that is required of them sincerely, failure will not be punished.

Sankar is known for his steadfast friendships and loyalties. Just as he treated S. Ramaswami, his first, and only, boss with due respect until his retirement, he developed strong bonds with his mentors and senior colleagues. If he found in any of them qualities that could serve the group well, he took advantage of their expertise and wisdom for as long as possible. His professor Dr. G.S. Laddha was one such person of eminence who served on the Chemplast board of directors for more than three decades. For all that his decisions seemed based on cold logic, they could be, and often were, tempered by the human touch – without prejudice to business sense. A sterling example was the way Sankar and his father Narayanan rallied round senior employee S.R. Seshadri, devastated by the loss of his wife while he was at Mettur working for Chemplast. They assisted his relocation to Madras and psychological rehabilitation by approving his pet project to manufacture mechanical seals, vital components required by Chemplast and the process industry in general. The end result was the joint venture Durametallic India. Firmly of the belief that public recognition and approbation are more important than monetary rewards, Sanmar not only honoured him properly during his tenure there but also posthumously by the establishment of the SR Seshadri Training Institute for its employees. Sankar also never hesitated to utilise the services of his most accomplished colleagues beyond their retirement age. Examples are S.B. Prabhakar Rao, M.N. Radhakrishnan and R. Kalidas. He also did not hesitate to reopen Sanmar’s doors to employees who left the group when they sought reentry if he felt they could serve Sanmar well all over again.

The recipient of honours and awards of every description including lifetime achievement awards from state level and national level apex bodies for the chemical industry, Sankar has been a highly respected figure while helming such bodies as Assocham, the Madras Chamber of Commerce and the Madras Management Association, besides sports bodies like the Tamil Nadu as well as the All India Tennis Association, the Madras Cricket Club and Tamil Nadu Cricket Association.

A keen sportsman, Sankar had to forego his ambition to become a top flight cricketer after polio struck him when he was 17, but a doubles champion at the university level partnering N. Srinivasan of India Cements, he continued his love affair with tennis well into his sixties, playing regularly at the Madras Cricket Club courts finding in it the perfect relaxation after a hard day’s work.
It is very well known that Sankar has been one of the finest patrons of cricket in India. The Sanmar family started supporting the iconic team Jolly Rovers Cricket Club in 1966, when India Cements adopted the team and hired cricketers from far and wide inviting players from other states like Mysore and Andhra, with the company’s director K.S. Narayanan enthusiastically leading the search party, as it were. Jolly Rovers dominated Madras cricket for many years, sweeping the league title repeatedly.

The golden jubilee of the Sanmar family-Jolly Rovers association was made memorable by an emotional gathering at Chennai of all living members of that first champion side in July 2015 and exactly a year later by the release by the great all rounder Kapil Dev of a book Cricket for the Love of it to commemorate this record association, accompanied by a presidential lecture by historian Ramachandra Guha.
The inaugural K.S. Narayanan Memorial Oration was delivered on January 30, 2016 by former England cricket captain David Gower. Every year since then, the Oration has maintained its high standards in both the quality of discourse as well as the unimpeachable credentials of the speakers. The crowning glory was the K.S. Narayanan Centenary Oration by former British Prime Minister David Cameron on January 30, 2019.
Sankar has never done anything by half measures and the way he has honoured his father’s memory is second only to the devotion with which he cared for him in his lifetime.

With son Vijay Sankar ready to take over from him whenever he is ready to hang up his boots, Sankar can look back with satisfaction at his journey as entrepreneur, institution builder and enabler of human potential in diverse fields.

Ghar Aaja Ghir Aaye Badra - Melodious Classic Song - Mehmood & Ameeta - ...

do sitar

Ramya Sundaresan Kapadia, Bharatanatyam in Carolyn's Garden

Ramya Sundaresan Kapadia, Bharatanatyam in Carolyn's Garden

Zindagi

Phir Na Kije Meri Gustakh Nigahi

phir na kije meri gustakh..asha bhosale-mukesh- sahir ludhianvi-khayyam-...

Captains, known and unknown

'PROUD OF MY HERITAGE' : KALLICHARRAN

 

(An interview I did with Alvin Kallicharran in 1992.)

 Evening Madras, Sunday April 5 1992

 Alvin Kallicharran is one of the greatest left hand batsmen in the history of cricket. Like another illustrious West Indian of Indian origin, Rohan Kanhai, Kallicharran captured the imagination of cricket - lovers and critics alike. His technique will satisfy the most demanding of purists while his stroke production is sheer art. For one known for his fearless aggression against the most hostile pace bowling, "Kalli" is a facile player of spinners too as he proved time and again in India against the fabled spin trio. Kallicharran's career was unfortunately touched by controversy when he defied world opinion and his cricket board by playing cricket for a living in South Africa during the days of apartheid. Recently in India to play some charity and benefit matches and to visit Satya Sai Baba, Kallicharran spoke his mind on the subject in conversation with V. Ramnarayan. Excerpts from the conversation.

 When you were playing in South Africa, were there blacks playing there?

 Yes. There was Omar Henry, who played in the recent World Cup and a .couple of others who are in the squad touring West Indies now. There aren't too many good coloured cricketers, though. The blacks in South Africa are more football people; cricket doesn't excite them. But having said 1.hat, I must also say they were very, very encouraging especially during the West Indian rebel tour of South Africa. They found it particularly exciting we beat a white team. I think in our own small way, we the rebels did a lot to promote cricket in that area.

 You think you've played a small role in the dismantling of apartheid by going out there and giving the blacks pride through your performances?

 I am glad South Africa is now back in the international scene, but we sportsmen have no control over politics. We are sportsmen involved in our job. In our own little way we bring about communication between peoples. It is time people sat up and listened to sportsmen instead of making decisions for sportsmen.

 Did your Indian roots impact the way you were treated.

I am very proud of my Indian heritage.  I don't know whether my Indian origin had anything to do with it. But Viv Richards made a statement a couple of years ago that he was happy the West Indies was at last a full African side. That is not the way the West Indian captain should speak. Especially in my country, Guyana it is a very insensitive thing to say in view of the political situation there. Viv really hurt the Indians in Guyana.

 You were at the peak of your powers when you served your exile from Test cricket.

 I know it was a sacrifice I was making while going to South Africa. But what I was not going to do was to let West Indies cricket dictate my career. God blessed me with some ability with which I decided to earn a living from cricket. I was using the potential in me. Our cricket careers are short. Financial security for one's family is important and I wanted to create some for my family. When the opportunity to go to South Africa came, I took the chance because I could see my relationship with the West Indies board declining. Captaincy was not important to me. I am a happy-go-lucky chap who loves cricket But I found I was not getting the respect I deserved as a senior player. Of course I missed Test cricket. I still do. If you look at my record in county cricket and South Africa during my ban it was phenomenal. I was proving a point to my detractors. Generally people start fading away once out of Test cricket, their performances drop, they become negative but I went the other way. I still wanted to be talked about in the cricketing world, as one of the top three or four batsmen in the game. To me the cricket I was playing was Test cricket. I am still playing at 43, still enjoying my cricket. I love the game and I don't think I am finished yet. I retired from county cricket only a year ago because of a bad back. And if that gets better, who knows, I may yet make a comeback. I want to give cricket 100% always.

 When Clive Lloyd came back from Packer's World Series,  if you had been retained as captain instead, would you have gone in for the same four-pacemen combination that he did?

 West Indies had this weapon of pace which is their strength to win Test matches. There were these great fast bowlers Michael Holding, Andy Roberts, Joel Gamer and Colin Croft. They were all tremendous and then Malcolm Marshall came along. We couldn't leave out any of them. The available spinners were not that good. Test cricket, any sport, is all about winning and there's no point in playing spinners in the side if they are not going to win matches for you. However, I think the time has come now for the reintroduction of spin. Mainly because of the rules governing short pitched bowling and intimidation. The bouncer as a weapon cannot be used freely any more because of the restrictions. You can see the spinners coming back into the game now as we saw in the World Cup.

 Any promising spinners in the West Indies?

 Yes, there a couple of good leg spinners, particularly a chap called Dhanraj.

 What does Satya Sai Baba mean to you?

 Oh, he has uplifted me. He is the ultimate. To meet him is divine. He has been my inspiration since I had my first darshan of him in 1979. I write to him often, think of him all the time and owe him much for what I am today.

THE BEST TEST UMPIRE INDIA NEVER HAD

 IVATURI SIVARAM

By V Ramnarayan

 Most of us are familiar with stories of unfair treatment of some cricketers by the selectors, but Hyderabad’s Ivaturi Sivaram’s story is one of rank injustice done to an umpire.   Many Indian cricketers of the last three decades have felt that Sivaram was one of the best umpires they have come across. Ravi Shastri, for instance, was once quoted as saying, “Sivaram is the future.” 65-year-old Sivaram who retired from cricket in 2009, has however never stood in a Test match, never been nominated to the ICC panel of on-field umpires, and was dropped from the ICC panel of TV umpires without a trial. 

Starting unusually young and performing with distinction for three decades, Sivaram was in a manner of speaking an umpire in the S Venkataraghavan mould, tall and erect, intensely focussed on his job, firm in his decision making based on sound theoretical and practical knowledge. In the early part of his umpiring career, he was often younger than the players in the matches he was officiating in, though evidently quite unfazed by that. His confidence and integrity stood out so clearly that few players, if any, questioned his decisions, while few of his decisions left room for dissent.  

I was always an admirer of Sivaram who stood in some of the matches I played in the 1970s. I was so impressed that I expected him to walk effortlessly into international duty. Little did I know then that he would receive a raw deal in his career, that umpires too were like players subject to the whims and fancies of authority, that Sivaram would one day be “hanged without a trial,” (the headline of a TOI story by Sumit Mukherjee of how Sivaram was axed from the ICC panel of TV umpires without a single opportunity in a whole series) much in the manner of players who move in and out of a 15-man squad without playing a single match on a whole tour or in a complete tournament. Though Sivaram officiated in ODIs in India, his Test chances never came, not even after he was unofficially asked to be ready to umpire in a particular Test match in 1986. Not unusual in Indian cricket, the job went to another, senior, umpire who pleaded for one last game. “Sivaram was after all young, with a bright future ahead of him, so he could afford to wait,” was the argument. The Test match debut never came.

 Sivaram is made of sterner stuff. He not only took his disappointments in his stride, but after his retirement from umpiring, resumed his affair with an earlier love—music. I was thrilled to learn from an article by N Jagannath Das in Telangana Today, that Sivaram is a veena vidwan. The umpire who refused to pull strings to enhance his cricket career has gone back to playing that string instrument of antiquity that still adorns south Indian classical music, having learnt the art first from his mother in his pre-teen years, and later from the music of the late maestro Chittibabu, who called Sivaram his Ekalavya sishya or long distance disciple. His mother 

Mrs I Chellayi was an A grade artiste of All India Radio and a lecturer in the Government Music College of Secunderabad. Sivaram joined the college as a student at age 12 and completed a three-year certificate course. He was only 22 when his hero Chittibabu allowed him to accompany him on the veena in an album entitled Musings of a Musician, in which the percussion accompaniment was provided by eminent musicians Guruvayur Dorai, Kamalakar Rao and Manjunath. Sivaram cherishes the memory of “the experience of practising with my guru and those stalwarts.”

Sivaram was undoubtedly a boy prodigy. And not just in music, for he first umpired in the Moin-ud-Dowla Gold Cup tournament of Hyderabad when barely 17, even before he had formally qualified as an umpire. His inspiration came from his father, the late IVS Sastry, an enthusiastic amateur sportsman and umpire in the Hyderabad cricket league, and his uncle, the late Ramana Rao a BCCI umpire. Ramana Rao first allowed Sivaram the opportunity to co-umpire a local league match with him when he was just 15. “You will be a better umpire than player,” he told the young wicket keeper-batsman, and before long, he was standing in that Gold Cup match in 1971, thrilled to watch the greats of the day like ML Jaisimha, Hanumant Singh, EAS Prasanna, BS Chandrasekhar and GR Viswanath from close quarters. A rare combination of cricketing genes and musical genes, Sivaram owes much in his growth as an umpire to Ramana Rao and Test umpire VK Ramaswamy, his “role model.”

 Having qualified as a BCCI panel umpire by 1978, Sivaram made his Duleep Trophy debut in 1986, and did his first ODI in 1994.  He made steady progress and earned appreciation at every stage from players, officials and visiting commentators. A memorable stumping decision involving New Zealander Roger Twose in a 1995 ODI that he made without referring to the TV umpire won him compliments from commentator Ian Smith and match referee GR Viswanath. English umpire David Sheppard was one of his seniors who had a good word for him. An unforgettable moment came during his Duleep Trophy debut, when his explanation of Sunil Gavaskar’s dismissal on 94 earned him an approving nod and a tap on his shoulder. “How did I miss that ball?” the Little Master had asked the young umpire.

It must be a huge disappointment not ever officiating in a Test match, a rude shock to have been dropped from the ICC Panel without a single opportunity to prove himself on the field, but Ivaturi has taken all that on his chin like a good soldier, secure in the knowledge that he performed admirably throughout a distinguished umpiring career in first class matches, mentored umpires through workshops, officiated in the inaugural IPL season and contributed in numerous ways to improvement in umpiring standards. Now in his second innings as a musician, he has always enjoyed the blessings of his mother who at 90 still mentors him, and the lifelong support of wife Venkataramani and brother Kanakachalam in all he does.     

 

 

 

 

CS DAYAKAR

 A Feisty All-rounder

By V Ramnarayan

Sometimes we tend to forget quiet interventions by individuals that have life-changing impacts on our lives. I for one have been guilty of failing to mention the crucial role CS Dayakar, my friend and spin twin of the 1960s, played in my cricket career while writing the story of my days as a cricketer. Looking back more than fifty years on, I realise what a gross omission that was, comparable to the lack of selectorial recognition that prevented Dayakar from exhibiting his sterling qualities as a left-hand all rounder to  wider audiences than the spectators watching college and league cricket in Madras during the two decades he was active in them.

I first met Dayakar at Vivekananda College during our Pre-University Course days in the academic year 1963-64. We knew each other as decent cricketers, but did not have too many interactions as we were in different groups, and while I think he was a member of the college team, I was not. I went on to Presidency College next year, and miraculously got selected to the college cricket team thanks to the efforts of two good Samaritans. The first of them was another left hander ‘Alley’ R Sridhar, who made sure I attended the selection trials after I had gone to college that day without my cricket kit, positive that I stood no chance of being picked. Living much closer to college than I, Alley rushed home during lunch and brought me white trousers and canvas shoes and dragged me forcibly to the nets in the evening. The second benefactor was the late Ram Ramesh, the captain of the Vivekananda College team, who in the previous season had failed to convince the Physical Director that I was good enough for his squad, and felt guilty about it. (It was his recommendation that had facilitated my turning out, quite successfully, for Jai Hind CC in the Madras league that same season). Ramesh was a towering presence—literally—at the Presidency selection nets, where he stood next to captain Bhaskar Rao and senior player Rajamani and brainwashed them into including  me in the team.

Dayakar had meanwhile lost a year by missing the PUC Sanskrit exam. He too joined Presidency next year, in the BSc Geology course, if I remember right—to my Chemistry major. I was a veteran of one season when he became my teammate in the academic year ’65-‘66, and we eventually forged what was arguably the most successful spin pair in Madras’s college cricket circuit for the next few years. There were quite a few class acts around, S Venkataraghavan, for example, leading a superb Engineering College attack, but few were limited to a pair of spinners as we were, though we too were for a while bolstered by the presence of a third spinner—in leggie PS Ramesh.

Dayakar was an accomplished all rounder, a gutsy one who invariably reserved his best for the toughest opposition. He belonged to a family of talented cricketers. His brothers Ekambaram, Kothandaraman, Padmanabhan, Umapathy and Kadiresan were all competitive and more than competent players.  A couple of them played first class cricket, Umapathy has for long been a coach in the MRF Pace Foundation, while the youngest brother Kathiresan, an excellent off-spinner-all rounder, was distinctly unlucky not to  graduate to Ranji Trophy cricket.

Dayakar bowled his left arm spin in a lovely arc, with a whiplash of an action that made the ball hurry off the wicket. His length and line were spot on, and the batsman had to contend with an awkward length that could create an optical illusion in the batsman. Our captain Ram—N Ram of The Hindu family—relied on him a great deal, sometimes bringing him on with the new ball.  When the shine was still intact, Dayakar bowled a deadly in-swinger to the right hander. He was in short a captain’s best friend who posed a complex mixture of problems to batsmen. I regarded him as a better bowler than me in our college years, and I always tried to play catch-up. He was the catalyst who—by both example and verbal encouragement—constantly pushed me to improve. We backed each other wholeheartedly and the outcome was a formidable combination that, with enthusiastic support from the fielders, won many a match for the team. Dayakar’s batting too was top class at that level—he rarely played at higher levels. He and other batsmen like John Alexander and Alley Sridhar were consistent scorers against strong teams, with all rounders Rajamani and SV Suryanarayanan chipping in creditably, especially if we lost our star batsmen like Ram and Premkumar early.    After these leading batsmen left college, we found fresh batting talents in the likes of MS Rajagopal and the lefthanded ‘Chama’ K Swaminathan.

Dayakar also pushed me hard to contribute in the batting department. We enjoyed some useful partnerships, even if the running between the wickets at his urging nearly caused my lungs to burst. It was an early wake-up call that forced me to work on my stamina and physical fitness. Though I made some runs, I was never in his class as a batsman.

Now for the crucial interventions Dayakar made in my cricket career. After my undergraduate degree, I was working at the desk in the Indian Express. It was work I had an aptitude for and enjoyed thoroughly, but I was unhappy enough with an instance of office politics to want to quit. At that precise moment came an invitation from Dayakar and the Presidency College Physical Director to go back there and do post graduate studies. With no prospect of playing serious cricket if I continued as a career journalist, I made the right decision in going back to college, as later events proved. With Dayakar and I enjoying elder statesmen status by now, we both thoroughly enjoyed resuming our partnership. Unfortunately, I had to discontinue my MA programme when my father’s poor health required my presence with the family at Calcutta, where Appa was working for Bank of India. By the time Appa got better, the first year MA exams were over, and I thought, “There goes my MA.” Dayakar waved his magic wand once again, and the college welcomed me back, allowing me to carry the three papers I had missed into the second year. Followed an excellent season for both of us, with several stellar all round performances by Dayakar ensuring that our relatively weak team often fought strong opposition gallantly and brought off a few unexpected wins. Leading the side, I had the great satisfaction of watching the considerable improvement of many newcomers  we managed to enable. 

One of the open secrets of our success that season was that Dayakar and I bowled every over from the time ‘Play’ was called in every important match, but allowed the others totally free to “express themselves” in 90% of all our matches, never yielding to the temptation to pick up relatively easy runs or wickets for ourselves. This was Dayakar’s brainchild, and I carried out the plan with conviction, but I regretted the strategy when I looked back on the season in later years, because it denied some good bowlers like PS Venkatesh, Osman Ali Khan and Kasi Viswanathan opportunities to prove themselves in stiff contests.

Dayakar and I were both selected to represent Madras University in the Rohinto Baria Trophy matches played at Dharwar, Karnataka, but my spin twin declined the offer fearing that he would not find a place in the playing eleven. I was disappointed with his decision, because I was keen to continue our bowling firm, which was now a well-oiled machine of five years’ standing. I had a reasonable if unspectacular outing for the university.

Dayakar’s final intervention in my career: Despite consistent success in college cricket for four consecutive seasons, I had been content to play in the lower divisions of the TNCA league, partly because I believed some people I trusted when they told me I was not ready yet for the First Division. Nothing could have been more absurd, and I was missing opportunities by underestimating my ability. It was Dayakar who bulldozed me at the start of the 1969-70 season into joining him at Alwarpet CC  being led by our former college captain N Ram. That was the first tentative step I took towards entering first class cricket.

I left Chennai in December 1970 to join State Bank of India in Andhra Pradesh, and wound my way soon to Hyderabad, where I made my Ranji Trophy debut nearly five years later, after long struggle. Dayakar joined Indian Overseas Bank, Madras, where he was a key member of the cricket team for a long time. Busy with my own cricket, family and banking career, I no longer followed Dayakar’s cricket closely. Was he ever considered fit material to represent the state in first class cricket? I have no doubt in my mind that Tamil Nadu let him and itself down by failing to acknowledge the merit of this fighting all round cricketer.  

PYASI DHARTI

SO NEAR YET SO FAR

Jyothiprasad’s narrow miss

By V Ramnarayan

The scorecard does not always tell the whole story. For example, the card for the second innings of the Kerala vs. Hyderabad Ranji Trophy match at Warangal in the 1976-’77 season opened with the bland statement OK Ramdas/ caught Narasimha Rao/ bowled Ramnarayan/ 22. It failed to mention that the catch was off a ricochet after Ramdas picked me from outside the off stump and nearly decapitated short leg Jyothiprasad with an almighty sweep I can still hear 44 years later. Poor Jyothi, my partner in crime on so many occasions, with his brilliant close-in catching, rarely took early evasive action, preferring to keep his eye on the ball longer than most other short legs. This time OK gave him no chance, and I thought I would never be able to bowl again, so distraught was I. Joe, as we called him, was leaving for Baroda the next day to represent South Zone in back to back Deodhar Trophy and Duleep Trophy matches against West Zone. He left the field immediately after the injury, probably on a stretcher, and once in the dressing room,  treated himself to some inspired self-medication—a quarter bottle of Hercules XXX rum neat. All of us followed Jyothi’s fortunes anxiously after we disposed of Kerala and returned to Hyderabad, and we received both good news and bad news. Jyothi had a spectacular Deodhar Trophy match with five wickets, including the prize scalp of Sunil Gavaskar, whom he bowled for zero. His Duleep performance could have been equally dramatic—with a little bit of luck. He bowled the first ball of the West Zone innings, and surprised by a powerful straight drive, dropped the catch. The batsman was again Sunil Manohar Gavaskar—who went on to make 228. Earlier, Joe (40) had been involved in a fighting eighth wicket partnership of 102 with Brijesh Patel (85) in South Zone’s first innings total of 236.

Coming back to the Warangal match, I had a decent match with the ball except for the injury to Joe, with 4 for 31 and 1 for 1. I however sustained a bruised ego, because I had always prided myself on my clean record of close-in fielder safety while I was bowling. (The only other aberration occurred years later in a local match at Chennai, the unlucky short leg this time MA Sriram, a talented left handed all rounder who now lives in the US). Ramdas was not the only sweep specialist in the Kerala side. The talented Ramesh Sampath, a cousin of S Venkataraghavan, and an engineer working at ISRO, was making waves with his attacking batsmanship. A compulsive sweeper, he had an excellent record against the Karnataka and Tamil Nadu bowlers whom he must have irritated with his irreverent shotmaking regardless of the bowlers’ reputation. Thanks to my captain Jaisimha’s expert mentoring, I knew a thing or two about how to counter sweep specialists. Ramesh was a good friend, and in the course of breakfast table banter, he said to me, “Ram, don’t get me out today.” Remembering that he had got out to me sweeping on my debut the previous season, I shot back, “Don’t sweep me, and I promise not to get you.” Sure enough, when he came into bat, Ramesh swept me first ball—straight down square leg Noshir Mehta’s throat. Ramesh seemed to have a bright future in cricket, but tragically drowned at a Goa beach a couple of years later.

My debut season had been a happy experience, and team morale had been pretty high, umtil we crashed out in the quarter finals after gaining a first innings lead against Bombay. This year, I had missed the disastrous season opener against Andhra at Eluru, away playing for Rest of India versus Bombay in the Irani Cup at Delhi. When I joined the team at Warangal, I found a strange mood of negativity and what seemed like lack of cohesion following an alleged attempt by wicket keeper to replace Jaisimha as captain. It was all very disappointing. Murti was a close friend of mine and quite a protégé of Jai as well. Playing for Hyderabad was never again going to be as consistently fulfilling and thrilling as during my first season, though there were to be many happy moments along the way. Tiger Pataudi and Abbas Ali Baig had retired at the end of the previous season, and Jaisimha would hang up his boots at the end of this one. He had led the team for nearly two decades.