It was a solemn occasion. The ambience befitted the occasion. Anything that transpired there had a shade of sentiment, a touch of nostalgia. The assembly line was as wide as possible. From school kids, seemingly unmistakable street children, city elite to a tens of 90 pluses. As if a vintage Salt Satyagraha or a Quit India Movement being re-enacted, a stream of rural folk, dressed as simple as possible but sporting impeccable tri-colour jerseys, end their padayatra at the venue. Neither directed by Etin Attenborough nor attired by an Oscar wining costumer but the emotion it evoked was no less than the epic film they made, did. The story here is not about a mahatma, but aam admi, as he himself was not tired of telling so the world.
A sanctity pervaded there, a feel as if one was entering a sanctum sanctorum. There were people on trees, on the parapet walls, and they should have thanked their stars, for there was no place to sit for majority of others, barring a sizeable invitees. Most of the spectators were standing, but without any signs of weariness. They were the vocal of the lot, dancing and chanting slogans all through. ‘Jab dak suraj chand rehega, dada ka nam amar rahega’.
Former hockey players, each a walking history in their own right, as is their wont, don’t boast of themselves, or let you know their own feat on the hockey fields. They perhaps understand what they achieved pale into insignificance against the ones by the Deity of the Day. They are all, like every soul there, seemed to have been mesmerised by the memory of a maestro. Some of them who had the privilege of interacting with their God, many of us mistakenly know it in the name of Dhyan Chand, unable to even recall those moments. The moments that would make our hearts fill, eyes wet and make the copy wonderful. Simply because they were, being human beings after all, consumed by the passion that pervaded the occasion.
It was different day at Jhansi on Monday. Not just another congregation of people. The Dhyan Chand Birth Centenary Celebrations that was enacted at the Jhansi Heroes ground, with as much divinity as possible, was not a mere event. It’s THE event. Those who have missed it missed it for their lifetime.
Though not on original agenda, the Olympians engaged Junior India girls. On the chat ground on which Dhyan Chand dazzled in the past, where now only his statue stands on the proximity. Md. Shahid demonstrated his markswomen what dribbling and ball holding is all bout. Amidst a maze of legs and sticks, ball was glued to the varanai magician. Crowd erupted in joy. Abdul Aziz, not a shade tired of being one of the organizers, and bald-headed BP Govinda blunted Saba Anjum’s surges. Syed Ali and Subodh Khandker tore the defence apart. The duo shared all the three goals. Perhaps a fitting result, as in the past two years the Olympians’ have been losing to the girls. First in the world cup victory commemorative match and then in the Vivek Singh charity contest. The final of the Under –21 tournament that followed was terrific and lively, passionately fought, in stark contrast to perfunctory stuff the Juniors and Seniors dished out at the IHF ritual in Delhi on the same day.
Not the goals and the results counted , but men and women who thronged there. The one this writer encountered about an hour after the rally, well before the matches commenced, was unforgettable. Very short, thin, bespectacled Jahur Ali he is. Like most of them there, he was in a sparkling yellow jersey on which inscribed Jhansi Heroes. He clutches to his heart a hockey stick with a passion and grip as would a child to its new toy. The stick that is laden with emotion and episodes.
91-year old Jahur Ali has been the left winger of the famed Jhansi Heroes club. He played along side and at times against Dhyan Chand teams. You take the name of Dhyan Chand, his eyes swell with tears. “Ise admi abi hajan? Always nice even to poor people like me”.
He gives a clear picture of Jhansi of yesteryears. “Three Clubs were dominant in those days. Jhansi Heroes of course, but Rose Club and the one at Cantonment area were equally good. District team of Jhansi always defeated nearby Gwalior. At Gwalior once Dhyan Chand hit from the top (of circle) and the goalkeeper fell on the ground. He was wearing pads (a luxury then), still was bleeding in his left leg. See how hard the hit was”.
The stick he brought on that day was presented to him by Dhyan Chand in 1933. “I was just 18 or 19 year old, dada had roamed the globe already, got two golds too. If he is happy with your game, he will give his stick. Here in Jhansi, if dada gives his stick, its an occasion, its an achievement”. “Was dada rich so as to give sticks to so many”, I asked. Pat came the reply: “Wo tho subedar ki ladka the (he was son of a Sudedar)”. We portray Dhyan Chand a poor and there were sections of people who considered him