A Joyous Diamond Jubilee Celebration
The stage is set for a grand diamond jubilee round of festivities. The guest list has been drawn up, the date, venue and time are fixed, and the menu finalised. At the centre of it all is the one constant that has stood by me through thick and thin, through rough times and smooth, from the snowy winters of Mussoorie to the torrid heat of Lucknow, from an uncertain beginner to one with a measure of confidence in one’s own ability. So yes, the cake will be in the shape of a giant tennis ball, as I commemorate 50 years of my love affair with this royal sport.
Photo Courtesy: www.clarescupcakes.co.uk
My long-suffering bitter half of 42 years is not impressed. On multiple occasions, she has suggested that it would have been better for all concerned if I had taken my marriage vows with a tennis racket instead. To date, she is convinced that I gave more loving looks to the tennis racquet that I got as a wedding gift, than to her. I may have to concede that she has a point, as the following episode demonstrates.
The All-India Civil Services Tennis tournament was approaching, as was the birth of our first born. This was to be my third consecutive year of participation, which would fetch me a coveted blazer with the State Government logo. The event was scheduled for January 10-11, while the Doctor’s prognosis for the delivery date was January 27–28. I felt that this provided enough of a cushion, and cavalierly disregarding my wife’s objections, took off for the tourney.
The tennis festivities went off well, but I had a surprise awaiting me on my return in the shape of my beaming father-in-law. Giving me a hug, he declared, ‘Kush, you have become a father!’ So taken aback was I by this pronouncement that I blurted, ‘You’ve got to be kidding me!’ It turned out – you guessed it—that he was not, and my marital life has never been the same since. Whenever my wife is on the wrong side of an argument, she throws a hissy fit, and snarls, ‘You are a fine one to speak. You weren’t even here for the birth of our son!’ That is as effective as an ace at match point. Game over!
Painful as this episode was, it gave me a valuable insight into the nature of the sport. I realised that tennis provides a great learning curve in the game of Life. Life-lesson number 1– you ignore your wife’s gut instinct, only at your own peril!
In my younger days, I was a fierce competitor who took no prisoners. I teamed up with my twin, Lov, to participate in a prestigious local tournament. We made it all the way to the final, and after a tense, two-hour battle, reached match point. I told Lov, ‘Just put the ball in the court and let me do the rest.’ Horror of horrors, he served a double fault. I stormed up to him in the throes of an emotional meltdown. ‘How could you do this, Lov?’ I yelled, ‘Do you realise that you may have just cost us the match?’ He looked at me bemusedly. ‘Relax, Kush,’ he said calmly, ‘It’s just a game after all! Nobody got killed, right?’ I had no choice but to agree, and internalise Life lesson number 2— ‘Anger is a wind which blows out the lamp of the mind.’ ( Robert Green Ingersoll).
Since my twin is identical, it has led to some amusing moments on and off the court. I recall the time when Lov was away on a vacation for a week. The courts where I normally played were getting relaid, so I went over to play at my twin’s Club. When my twin got back, the Coach-cum-Marker did a double take at seeing us on the court together. After the game was over, he rather shame-facedly asked me to pay the guest charges. He confessed that he had not levied these earlier, thinking that I was Lov!
Nor are tennis greats immune from such confusion. Once Leander Paes, the first Indian to enter the International Tennis Hall of Fame, was in Lucknow and interacted with the local players. Spotting Lov and me, he said, ‘Oh, another accomplished pair like Mike and Bob! ‘( legendary tennis twins). ‘I am an expert at telling twins apart, so you guys can’t fool me!’ It so happened that the next day, Leander and his father played an exhibition match against Lov and yours truly. Whilst getting soundly beaten, I did manage to send down a couple of aces and some big service winners. Later in the evening, Leander came up to Lov and complimented him on his serving skills, only to look quite chastened when he learnt the truth. Life lesson number 3- Pride comes before a fall!
The Bryan Twins in action
Photo Courtesy https://www.flickr.com/photos/aon/3923074250
By its very nature, tennis invites community participation. This can serve as a boon or a bane, depending on the maturity level of the players. There are some unwritten rules of the game, such as giving way to those in wait after a set is over. Imagine my chagrin when this rule was contravened by a foursome on the specious ground that since they came in early, they could play continuously as long as they liked! This led me to formulate a Constitution for this Club, which began with the following Preamble:
‘The first point to remember is that you are playing in the City of Nawabs. The birth-place of tehzeeb, of adab, of “Pehle Aap”. So, the Code of Conduct places a premium on good behaviour, courtesy and sportsmanship. The Tennis Court is NOT the place for temper tantrums, abusive language or physical intimidation. Rather, it is an arena for fostering camaraderie over hot jalebis, spicy samosas and fragrant Darjeeling tea! The cardinal principle is to applaud good shots, be magnanimous in victory and gracious in defeat.’
The result of my efforts was that thereafter I was dubbed as the Dr.Ambedkar of the Club!
Perhaps as a reward for this signal contribution, I was assigned the task of organising the first Tennis Carnival of the Club. The idea was to pair strong players with weaker ones by the draw of lots, so as to ensure a level playing field. Accordingly, I drew up two lists, titled ‘Strong’ and ‘Weak’ players respectively. When this became public, there was a violent backlash by those who felt that their level of play had been unfairly categorised. To assuage their hurt feelings, I quickly rebranded the list as ‘Strong’ and ‘Stronger’, thereby averting a player rebellion. Another life-lesson learnt—When dealing with players, speak softly and forget the big stick!
So far so good, but the situation can get unmanageable and out of control at times. While in New Jersey, I befriended a group of Japanese players, and over the course of three years had a whale of a time with them. Since their average age was around 82 years, I was much in demand as a doubles specialist. Then Covid struck and—Wham! suddenly one day I went from being a hero to being a zero, much to my befuddlement. On persistent questioning, I learnt that this was because I was staying with my brother-in-law, a Doctor. Everyone was afraid of catching the bug as a result.
I am normally a peaceable type, but take me away from my daily tennis fix, and I start foaming at the mouth. I threw a full-on tantrum. ‘My brother-in-law is busy saving lives and you debar me from tennis on that account?’ I bellowed, ‘You are nothing less than savages and skunks!’ Saying which, I started wildly hitting balls in all directions, one of which almost knocked over a senior lady player. To this day, I live with a sense of shame at my over-reaction. Another point in my lifelong learning curve – No matter what is the provocation, Keep Calm and Keep Cool!
I mentioned tennis as my daily addiction, for which the prerequisite is the presence of a tennis court. This was precisely what was missing when I took over as District Magistrate, Uttarkashi. I did a detailed recce and honed on a piece of level ground outside the local school. In quick time, a court was laid and curious players trooped in after playing badminton to try their hand at this new sport. They took to it like ducks to water and soon a tennis club was up and running. Matters were proceeding smoothly till a large delegation of angry ladies met me, protesting vigorously on becoming tennis widows. Lesson learnt: There is no fury greater than a woman’s, whose affections are betrayed by her man for the love of another sport!
One of the highlights of the sport is the range of colourful characters that one meets. Take the case of a retired IAS officer who had two overriding passions, tennis and poetry. He would often combine the two to good effect. The first time we played together, he said, ‘Pleasure to have you in my corner, Kush, You give my ageing game the required push!’ Being no slouch when it comes to rhyming, I replied, ‘Playing with you, Sir, is a royal treat, Though matching your peerless game will be no mean feat!’
My interaction with this gentleman inspired me to write a tennis-themed poem. This is how it began:
Jitter Bug, he just loved to play,
Pounding the tennis courts all day,
Hitting winners from end to end,
Forcing others to lunge and bend,
His blistering service would fly,
Past his rival’s despairing sigh,
His ground strokes were like greased lightning,
Their spin and pace were frightening,
His drop shots skimmed over the net,
His foes, stranded, would fume and fret,
While his beau, Lizzie, in the stands,
Smiled with delight, and clapped her hands.
Someone who wanted to curry my favour once suggested that the description was apt for me. I only wish!
Never judge a book by its cover – this uptick on my learning trajectory also came courtesy tennis. An elderly gentleman who was lounging in the Club lobby, invited me to a game. Moved by a sense of pity, I consented, with one condition – that he would start each game with a 30– 0 advantage. ‘In that case’, he said with a twinkle, ‘The first to get to 6-0 gets treated to a six pack of beer.’ I readily agreed, only to be outfoxed every which way. The wily old codger sent me spinning this way and that, drawing me to the net and then throwing in a crafty lob, till I was in a complete tizzy. As I walked off after 6–0 drubbing, he confided, ‘You need not be crestfallen young man. I am the current National Senior champion!’
As with people, so with places. I have enjoyed tennis on the balmy courts of the Andamans, my hair windswept by the sea-breeze, as much as sweating it out in the mud courts of Vishakhapatnam, fashioned from ant-hills. But if I am asked to pick my favourite, it would be the Bharti Nagar Tennis Club in New Delhi. Arriving from a cosy little town where everyone knew everybody, it was a bit intimidating to find oneself lost in the anonymity of a metropolis. It was then that BNTC took me under her wing, with its plethora of good-natured players to make it an enviable comfort zone. Along with tennis, there were picnics, music sessions and late-night parties galore. Bliss—suddenly, Delhi felt like a second home. Leading to perhaps the most treasured revelation of all: When you open your hearth and heart to strangers, the good times will roll!
So far I have looked at the teachings derived from tennis from an individual perspective. Dare I broaden the canvas to society in general? The obvious benefits are the inculcation of sportsmanship, the fostering of the spirit of camaraderie, and the strengthening of cooperation across the board. Most of all, tennis can make a lasting contribution to World peace. If that sounds like a bit of a stretch, I would like to pose a question— Which other sport starts with the exhortation, ‘Love-all?!’ ( Actually, quite a few—Badminton, T-T, Squash and Volleyball come to mind, but you get my drift.)
Enough, already. Time to get on to the tennis court, where strangers become friends and friends become family!