Every June 19th brings the same memory with the same intensity in me, even after 36 years. It was the morning of June 19th, 1983. I heard Dad’s call “Your coffee is on the table Roy”. I headed for the coffee with THE HINDU newspaper in my hand, but after making sure it was closed. This was because, Dad was of the impression that the sports page was the first page I opened and many times, the only page I read in a newspaper. I went to a far corner in the balcony and opened the sports page. On the road outside, as was the case of any other day, I could hear the flower vendor belting out the names in her collection and the strange whining sound of the salt vendor’s cycle as he made his way through the street. The sound of the brooms in action, by the women in the neighbouring homes, also mixed with these sounds and formed a nice piece of bearable discord.
I knew Dad would soon ask for the news paper and I thought I should give a quick glance first. The morning winds danced through the sheets of the newspaper while they also created the beautiful rustle in the leaves of the tree that stood adjacent to our home. When I opened the sports page, I was stunned to see a picture of Kapil Dev that adorned the full length of one half of a page, from header to footer. This was the first time I was seeing such a big picture in a newspaper and I could even see the mud that dressed the pads and shoes of Kapil Dev as he was taking a shot. The picture was that big. “Where’s the newspaper?”, came Dad’s call and I rushed inside and gave the newspaper to him.
That morning I saw Dad spend an unusually long time on the sports page. He was indeed a cricket enthusiast and he followed the game that time on the radio, but on the newspaper, sports was usually his last priority. But that day I saw him spend a long time on the sports page. Something unbelievable had happened the previous day. Something that was like a miracle of destiny. Kapil Paaji had come in at 9 for 4 when the chips were down and had lit up Turnbridge Wells with his blitzkrieg of 175 not out and saw India through that game of the 1983 World Cup Cricket with Zimbabwe, in spite of their top class fielding. Till then, I only had a very vague idea of the World Cup and I was not even interested in knowing India's progress on this big stage.
No wonder THE HINDU had dedicated such a big picture for him. Kapil Paaji is still seen as a miraculous hero. Only a select few like him could use a bat like a magic wand.
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