Cricket in India and England also mirrored the social divide between classes. While Palwankar Baloo and his talented brothers could not share meals in the dining room, a similar differentiation between amateurs and professionals prevailed on the county circuit in England. Amateurs gathered in privileged dining rooms, sipped wine and ate exotic cheeses, while the professionals were fed ‘bangers and mash’ washed down with a glass of ale. Amateurs and professionals entered the field of play from separate gates, and when in a match between Surrey and Yorkshire, Lord Hawke found his opponents emerging from the same gate, he admonished his Surrey compatriot by calling out, ‘I say, Harris, don’t let that sort of thing become a habit’.
Class distinctions within the Indian fold were epitomized by Ranjitsinhji in the 1890s, when as the supreme batsman on the English county circuit he was selected for England and made a century on his debut. He was followed by two other Indian aristocrats – Duleepsinhji and the Nawab of Pataudi, who both emulated Ranji by making a century on debut against Australia. In contrast, the outcaste commoner Palwankar Baloo, who was a contemporary of Ranji, languished unheralded in India, even though he was a supreme bowler. He was selected to tour England with the All-India team of 1911 when he was forty and past his prime. His brother Shivram was not selected, despite his outstanding record, but scraped through when one of the other players dropped out. Baloo took over a hundred wickets on the tour and his brother was the leading batsman. The social distinction between the elite and the commoner could not be better epitomized than by these examples.
Thanks to the crusading zeal of B.R. Ambedkar and Mahatma Gandhi the scheduled caste Hindus were gradually absorbed into the Hindu and Indian teams, though prejudice often denied them the captaincy of their teams that they rightfully deserved. Similarly it was not until 1952 that England appointed its first professional captain, Len Hutton.
For the British in India, cricket provided an opportunity to underline their superiority on the cricket field and their ability to rule as the imperial power. In a subtle way the Indian cricketer would help promote native integration into the Raj. As the gymkhanas became stronger and indigenous cricketing ability improved, the occasional defeats of the Europeans at the hands of the gymkhanas became increasingly galling to the British stiff upper lip. There were several occasions when English batsmen refused to leave the crease when given out by a local umpire or ‘uncooperative’ umpires were removed during a match.
Jardine’s MCC team arrived in India at the cusp of change. The 1930s were seeing the anti-colonial, pro-independence tide moving towards a crescendo. The ruling princes, at least the wiser ones, realized that independence would usher in the end of their riches, privileges and autocratic rule. For them the future was uncertain and their domination of cricket also began to loosen. Mahatma Gandhi’s non-violent social revolution had lit the flame of hope for the masses and Ambedkar, the great social reformer, began a high-profile movement for the integration of the scheduled castes into Indian society. Interest in cricket had begun to reach out from the exclusive domain of the privileged and elite into the world of ordinary folk. Universities and schools were producing cricketers of quality, a double-edged sword for the British, because on the one hand it projected the British Raj’s superiority but on the other it was loosening the grip of the privileged class through whom the British ruled India.
India’s crucial breakthrough in making cricket a spectator sport for the masses came in the mid 1930s with the advent of the community based Quadrangular tournaments. Spectator interest saw matches between communal teams drawing crowds initially of a couple of thousand but growing to tens of thousands in the late 1930s when communal teams played their rivals. Eventually in 1937 the Quadrangular became the Bombay Pentangular when it included a team designated the Rest, comprising Christians, Buddhists and Jews. It drew full houses in Bombay.
The heroes of each communal team became the first Indian superstars of cricket. For the Hindus C.K. Nayudu, Amar Singh and Lala Amarnath were their superstars. For the Muslims, they were Wazir Ali, Amir Elahi, Mohammad Nissar and Mushtaq Ali, and for one memorable innings, K.C. Ibrahim. For the Parsis, R.P. Mehromji, K.M. Mistry and Rusi Modi represented the pioneers of Indian cricket. The Europeans fielded Denis Compton, Reg Simpson, Joe Hardstaff and Frank Tarrant. The Rest included stalwarts like the master batsman Vijay Hazare. These stars became household names and spectators across the country would make long trips to Bombay by train to witness and support their teams. The Pentangular not only drew huge crowds but cricket between communal teams also became a vast money spinner. Mass appeal for Indian cricket began with the Bombay Pentangular.
The organization of the tournaments based on communal teams attracted sharp opposition from the pro-independence movement spearheaded by the Congress Party. Its leaders like Mahatma Gandhi, Vallabhai Patel and Jawaharlal Nehru were highly critical of the Pentangular as the Congress Party’s view of a united, secular movement against British rule was opposed to communal tournaments. The Congress view specially affected the Hindu teams whose cricketers were faced with the dilemma of either falling in line with the Congress Party’s boycott of communal tournaments or achieving public glory for the Hindus on the cricket field. The Muslims, Parsis and the Rest were not so deeply affected and the Europeans, representing the British establishment, were only too glad to support the Pentangular as it challenged the Congress Party’s hold on the Indian public.
The diametric opposition to the Congress Party’s view on communal tournaments is best symbolized by the following quotes, the first opposing and the second supporting the Bombay Pentangular.
Mahatma Gandhi, when approached by members of the Hindu gymkhana to advise on whether or not the communal Pentangular matches should be played, stated:
My sympathies are wholly with those who would like to see these matches stopped ... I would like the public of Bombay to revise their sporting code and erase from it communal matches. I can understand matches between colleges and institutions but I have never understood the reasons for having Hindu, Parsi, Muslim and other communal elements. I should have thought such unsportsmanlike divisions would be considered taboos.
A.S. D’Mello, president of BCCI, presenting the contrary view stated:
Cricket is a unifying influence on our national life. Cricket brings together different communities on a healthy, non-controversial and recreative plane.
A heated controversy ensued in the press, mainly within the Hindu community, on the Congress Party’s opposition to the Pentangular. At several matches, demonstrations with placards denouncing the communal championship were held outside the grounds and at the Hindu Gymkhana meetings. In 1937 at Congress’s behest India’s superstar C.K. Nayudu withdrew from the Hindu team which did not participate in the Pentangular. The following year saw Nayudu pronouncing himself in favour of the Hindus participating on the grounds that the Pentangular had seen a reduction in communal violence in Bombay, was a unifying influence in the communities and encouraged harmony. Nayudu pointed to the fact that not a single incident had taken place during the Pentangular Tournament. No doubt bringing glory to the Hindu community and a financial bonanza to the players and sponsors was at the back of Col. Nayudu’s mind when he decided on a volte-face to his earlier boycott.
The Muslims were enthusiastically in favour of the Pentangular, as Jinnah had consistently maintained that the Muslims of the subcontinent were a separate nation. His support for the founding of a separate Muslim state – Pakistan – was based on this premise. The Parsis also favoured the Pentangular because being a small community, they could make a mark on the national scene through cricket. Similarly the Indian Christians, another small community, hung on to the coat-tails of the Europeans in supporting the Pentangular. Only the Hindus were faced with the dilemma of boycotting or participating in the Pentangular.
Except for a couple of years when the Hindus opted out due to intense political pressure, the Pentangular was played before full houses a
t the Brabourne Stadium until Independence. The matches, especially between the Hindus and Muslims, had the intensity of an Ashes Test Match. As in England and Australia, cricket had entered the domain of mass public appeal in India. From there it was only a short step to the India-Pakistan matches that followed shortly after Independence.
Cricket Mania in Bhopal
As a child of about ten in the mid-1940s, I vividly remember the impact of the Pentangular in Bhopal, my birthplace. Bhopal was – and still is – one of the bastions of hockey in the subcontinent. The people of Bhopal, young and old, were steeped in hockey. Cricket was barely worth a mention in Bhopal until my grandfather decided to employ Major Wazir Ali, the hero of the Muslim team in the Pentangular, on his staff. To hockey-mad Bhopalis, the presence of the debonair Punjabi Wazir Ali whetted the appetite not so much for the game of cricket but for support to the Muslims when the annual Bombay Pentangular approached. I recall the thrill of meeting Syed Wazir Ali when he came to call on my mother who was heir-apparent of the state. The Muslim superstar was balding, stocky and handsome with a mole on his right cheek. He wore the most buccaneering moustache I have ever known, like two sabres emerging from his upper lip.
For a few weeks before the Pentangular and for as long as the Muslims remained contestants in the tournament, cricket became a seasonal obsession for Bhopalis. The neighbouring rulers of smaller states, both Hindu and Muslim, would head for Bombay in their special railway saloons taking with them their entourage of supporters of the communal teams. The Bhopali jagirdars who knew nothing about cricket would also time their annual pilgrimage to Bombay for the Pentangular, accompanied by a retinue of relatives, servants and hangers-on to support ‘our Major Sahib’ who would be leading the Muslims in the field of battle. None of these country bumpkins could tell the difference between a maiden over and a strip-tease artist but for these few weeks cricket became the main subject of discussion in town. As expected, there was animated discussion before, during and after the matches, based on rumour, exaggeration and ill-informed opinion on the game of cricket. Typical remarks from the Bhopali feudals were: ‘The British have deliberately sent out Compton and Hardstaff on army postings to India to ensure that the Europeans dominate the natives.’ ‘That Nayudu is the Devil incarnate. No human being can hit sixes that far. His presence is unfair on other teams!’ ‘The stinking rich Parsis have bribed some Muslim players not to play their best. Fortunately our Major Sahib is above these dirty tricks and will bring home the Cup.’ ‘The Viceroy has appointed the umpires and they will make sure that neither the Hindus nor the Muslims win the Pentangular. You will see that the Christians Hazare and Denis Compton will score century after century.’
All this harmless banter helped to let off steam and though community based matches had the potential of exacerbating tensions at a time when religious riots were increasing across India, there were hardly any incidents at the cricket matches. In fact, as Col. Nayudu and supporters of the Pentangular remarked during the heated debate between the Congress Party and those favouring the Pentangular, the communal matches had helped reduce religious tensions in Bombay. He added that his experience of the communal championships – the Quadrangulars and the Bombay Pentangular – was that they helped to let-off steam from the communal pressure cooker and actually improved community relations.
This cricketing obsession led to an episode that encapsulated the spirit of the times and has since passed into Bhopali folklore. The episode relates to the scions of Bhopal’s leading jagirdar family whose patriarch – Sadda Mian – was a well-known character in Bhopal society. Sadda Mian’s ancestors had been the Bhopal ruling family’s most loyal supporters through two centuries of Muslim rule in Bhopal. So loyal that Sikander Begum had selected Sadda Mian’s sixty-year-old father to marry her only daughter because she could trust him with her eyes shut. Sadda Mian’s family had been richly rewarded over the generations and were Bhopal’s leading jagirdars.
Sadda Mian had five sons who did not have to work for a living and passed the time in feudal pursuits like shikar, quail fights, betting on kiting contests and fishing for mahaseer in Bhopal’s two picturesque lakes – the Bada Talab (big lake) and the Chota Talab (small lake). For thrills they tended to poach big-game in His Highness’s exclusive game reserves and when caught would bribe the forest officers not to report them to Nawab Sahib. When visiting their lands Sadda Mian’s scions – apart from shikar – tended to chase the winsome maidens of the village, away from the oppressive glare of their wives and family elders.
Except for one of Sadda Mian’s sons, Saeed, who went to Aligarh for a university education, the other four sons were content to live out their placid, pastoral lives within the confines of Bhopal state. They had hardly ever stepped out of Bhopal.
Possibly because Bhopal state had earlier been dominated by four successive generations of women rulers, Bhopal’s male elite was renowned for its macho bragging and exaggerations. For example, Bhopal’s great lake had been the largest in the world until it was partially drained by a heartless king (exaggeration); His Highness’s father had bagged the biggest tiger in the record books and his eldest son Nasrullah held the world record for sambhar antlers (both untrue); Sikander Begum publicly humiliated the British Agent by slapping him so hard on the face that his false teeth fell out (exaggeration). Sadda Mian’s sons were definitely part of this bravado syndrome, describing Bhopal’s history in the most colourful language, each sentence invariably preceded by ‘I swear by Almighty Allah’.
As the Pentangular approached and cricket fever gripped most middle-class households, Sadda Mian’s eldest son Sandal and his fourth brother Rasheed decided that they must support Major Wazir Ali’s Muslim team in the Bombay Pentangular. There was much commotion in Sadda Mian’s household as quail fights were postponed, astrologers summoned to forecast the most appropriate day for travel and permission sought from His Highness for Sandal and Rasheed to proceed for the first time in their lives to Bombay for the noble cause.
The brothers took the Bombay Mail from Bhopal for the 24-hour journey to Bombay – the forbidden city of India with its bright lights, the glamour of the film world and the English shopping centres where the rich made all their purchases. The brothers had booked themselves into Bombay’s best hotel, the Taj Mahal, which overlooked the Indian Ocean. On the journey the main topic of discussion was the prospect of the Muslims winning the Pentangular. Mohammad Nissar was the fastest bowler in India and ‘our Major Sahib’ was at least the equal of C.K. Nayudu. Their servants carried several tiffin baskets that contained sumptuous kebabs, roasts and paranthas for the journey but the most precious accompanying item was the silver ‘paan-daan’ from which delicious paans were served mixed with betel nut, cardamoms and scented tobacco.
The following day, the Bombay Mail chugged into the magnificent Churchgate Station around 11 p.m. The brothers disembarked sleepless and dishevelled from the long dusty journey but agog with excitement. The Churchgate station was itself an eyeopener for the brothers as they had never come across such a huge impressive building. They had never seen so many snazzy cars and bright lights as they headed in a taxi towards the Taj Mahal hotel. On arrival the brothers received their first culture shock when the bell-boy herded them into the small lift, clanged the door shut and pressed the button for the ascent to the fourth floor. Sandal and Rasheed had never been in a lift. They exchanged furtive glances but remained silent. Sandal imagined he was being imprisoned for a poaching offence while Rasheed felt disoriented by the first vertical journey in his life. Arriving on the fourth floor they were quickly ushered to their room where the blinds had been drawn and the French windows closed to prevent the morning light disturbing the hotel guests as they slept. Sandal and Rasheed decided to turn in immediately, remembering in their night prayers to beseech Almighty Allah to shower His Blessings on His chosen people to ensure victory over assorted heathens.
The next morning Rasheed was the first to rise and gingerly lifted the bl
inds and opened the French window. Rasheed saw the vast expanse of the Indian Ocean stretching out before him as far as the eye could see. He was dumbfounded, stupefied, overwhelmed and uttered the immortal words that have since become part of Bhopali folklore:
Arrey Khan Sandal, jaldi uth, dekh to sahih. Qasam Quran ki, yeh to apnay Bade Talao se bhi bada hai. (Sandal old boy, quick, get up, come and see. I swear by the Holy Quran, this is even bigger than our Great Lake.)
The 1930s onwards saw momentous change in the cricketing world, particularly in India. This change could be viewed at four levels. First, the Bodyline series showed how cricket, more than any sport, could affect the national psyche of nations and their public. Secondly, from an exclusive elite sport, cricket moved into the domain of mass appeal through the emergence of communal tournaments like the Quadrangulars and the Bombay Pentangular. Thirdly, cricket brought to the fore the social class distinctions within a country and was a primary force in healing these oppressive divisions. Finally, cricket affected the politics of India as the game was used by the British to gain political advantage. Jardine’s presence in India in 1933-34 touched all four of these sensitive antennae.
Shadows Across the Playing Field Page 11
