The Touch Of The Tiger

My Mamujaan's vibrant legendary love affair with Hockey has been unmitigated for as far back as I can remember.
Mummy had these clear instructions: "Whenever there is a hockey tournament in Bombay, you must make it a point to go and encourage the boys."!!!

Of course it was always not possible, but Mummy did sincerely try and went to witness matches whenever she could.

And we had not the remotest idea that this one, where I had gone along too, was going to become a memorable one.

From the beginning it was different.
First and foremost this was a friendly match between IA(Indian Airlines) and PIA (Pakistan International Airlines).
Although it was a friendly match, the interest aroused among fans was no less. We had no idea till we reached the venue.

With Hockey being forever like the illegitimate halfsister of Cricket, the fans of the game are familiar with an empty stadium.
But this match was being played at the prestigious Bombay Gymkhana. The place was overflowing with spectators by the time we reached. Not an inch of seating space left, Mummy and I stood looking around the place to find a spot from where we could get a clear view of the ground.

Someone suggested we go on the upper floor.
"Up-above-the-world-so-high" also people had crammed in to watch the game. Mummy and I were lucky to find a place from where the view was good. Feasting our eyes on the clear velvety green field we almost forgot the sweaty jostling and climbing of minutes before.

The announcer in the commentators box had already started describing the weather and colours as the players filed out neatly on the ground.

The game got off to an engrossing start and we seemed pretty well-settled in our positions.
Standing hardly mattered to me. Wonder if Mummy had other thoughts, her focus though was evidently on the game.
But I was looking idhar-udhar also :-)
How could one ignore all that sophisticated gorgeousness :-)

And there sitting just a few feet away among some beautiful women and children was the elegant Nawab Of Pataudi.
Mansoor Ali Khan.

Having read and heard about them, his eyes caught my attention. They are still alive in my memory. I had not understood then, but do so well now. That unmistakable friendliness in them was so true and real although one of the eyes was not real!!!
Those large dreamy eyes were calm and peaceful, and as they looked at us, an expression then strange to me, fleetingly crossed his quiet face.

He got up from his comfortable seating space and walked gracefully towards us.

The legendary Nawab whose pictures with his ravishing Begum and the fairy tales that surrounded their life was my only introduction to him, was right beside us and actually speaking to Mummy.

He was telling my mother to go and sit in his place. As she walked equally gracefully to take her place, he took his.
Near me (where Mummy had stood)!!!

His autograph on a piece of blue envelope as were used in the good old days to send what was known as "airmail", is still stuck in one of my olllllddd diaries.

For the last one and a half day I'm searching that diary in my old books ... and hoping my only touch with The Tiger is not lost.