A. Joseph Antony - My Way - the Biography of M.L. Jaisimha

Just about every sons first hero is his father. So it was with me. My father is still my idol for millions of reasons. Madhav Mantri, my maternal uncle, was my hero too as I grew up in cricket mad Mumbai. Taking to cricket was the easiest thing in the world as my father played lots of club cricket and took me to watch his and other matches. Madhav Mantri was a Test cricketer and every time I visited his place I would look at the trophies he had won and ask him to open his cupboard containing clothing he wore when representing India and Mumbai. Just to touch them was an indescribable feeling.

Then in 1959, when I still had not entered double figures in age, the Indian team to tour England was announced. One name was new to me--M.L. Jaisimha. There was a photo too, a black and white one and that got me hooked. Apart from the good looks that photo showed the young mans confidence, eagerness and ambition. The eyes and smile showed he was looking forward to the challenge. The Indians lost all the five Tests and the young Jaisimha played in only one without doing anything exciting. Quite understandably he was kept out of the Indian side for sometime till the Kolkata Test at Eden Gardens against Richie Benauds Australians in 1959-60. He batted doggedly to save the game and had the then unique distinction of being on the field as a batsman on all five days of the Test match.

Thereafter he was a regular in the Indian team missing the odd Test but never away from the selectors minds. My first sighting of him in person was at the Brabourne Stadium during the 1961-62 MCC tour. Sitting in the North Stand it was hard to make out the players from the distance. But one thing that was clearly obvious was the gait, like no other I had ever seen. While most Mumbaites seemed to scoff at it, to me it held a strange fascination. Mind you, after that Kolkata Test against the Aussies I had become a big fan but my heroes would change as the seasons did. Starting from Rohan Kanhai, Gary Sobers, Norman ONeil and Hanif Mohammad were heroes of the teams that toured India in the late 1950s.

I used to pester my uncle Madhav Mantri for news about these players, how they looked off the field, what they ate and of course whether they were nice people to talk to. My uncle was a disciplinarian and may not have always agreed with what the players did then but every time he spoke about Jai it was with great affection.

In 1966 I was selected to play for the Vazir Sultan Colts team, comprising the countrys promising youngsters and led by Nawab of Pataudi, then the Indian captain. It was a real opportunity to impress those that mattered. The happiness at being selected was doubled by the knowledge that I would be able to be at close quarters with my hero. Of course, with my height there was no question of ever being able to rub shoulders with him!

It was clear as soon as we arrived in Hyderabad that he was everybodys hero. The youngsters were all trying to walk and even bat like him. When he came for practice everybody dropped everything and watched him. He met us in the dressing room and in that fleeting moment, the genuineness of his wishing us luck was plain to see. During that trip he firmly instructed us never to call him `Sir but just `Jai. From then on it was Jai and Junie for his better half. They did not want to be called uncle and aunty and even now it is simply Junie.

When I was picked for India it was wonderful to have him in the tour party. I got the opportunity not only to bat with him but also to talk about cricket and life in general. One could go to him for any problem.Even if he did not have a solution he was a great listener making all the correct sympathetic responses. It was on this tour that he started calling me `Gaa-vuskar with more emphasis on Gaa and thereafter he always called me by my surname. It was really unique the way he pronounced it.

I could go on and on but theres so much about Jai that I myself dont know. My Way tells us more about Jai as a cricketer and a person. It is good to see that TVS Motor Company has come forward to bear the cost of bringing the book out and I am sure Jai must be a hero to Venu Srinivasan too.

To the author too, one has to say well done for he has persevered for some time now trying to find out more about the man who was a hero to so many. The volume of information can be overwhelming and brings with it the problem of knowing what to leave out.

I look forward to reading the book to know more about my all time hero and friend, so dont be surprised if you find me in the queue to get it.

I

n the late 80s, a young boy was waiting to cross the busy Bandar Road in Vijayawada, which leads to Machilipatnam, the ancient port visited

by Marco Polo in medieval times. From one of the many guest houses lining the arterial route, a tall and lean man emerged. His immaculate cricketing gear and imposing presence made many heads turn. In a relaxed gait, he wove his way past speeding vehicles, looking to his left and right through stylish sunglasses.

The vehicle he took may have been a let-down for some. Hailing a passing cyclist, he hopped on to his pillion or rather, carrier. Presently, the teenager met the charismatic figure at the Indira Gandhi Municipal Corporation Stadium, where the Nutrine under-13 cricket tournament was to get under way shortly.

The elegant elder was M.L. Jaisimha and the gazing teenager, VVS Laxman. A

fathers role would be most fulfilled when his offspring outgrow him. On that count, Gangadhara Shastri, descendant of a family

honoured by the Vijayanagara kings for its learning and achievement, should have been a contented man.

The move from his native Motganahalli to Bangalore in search of better prospects, however, saw the railway clerk struggle to bring up a family of six daughters and two sons. Although Motganahalli Lakshminarsu, the younger son, showed promise in studies, Shastri wished to see him gainfully employed. Getting his six sisters married off should have weighed on the sons mind too for he was ready to give up school for a job.

Lakshminarsus teachers were aghast at the idea. In Shri Setty was found a benefactor who supported the youngsters studies at Maharajas College, Mysore. During the holidays, Lakshminarsu strived to earn the extra rupee by taking up odd jobs, ranging from maintaining accounts in shops to delivering newspapers. He even read the daily newspaper aloud in a house, for which he was paid Rs.10 a month.

Shortly after he graduated in Commerce from Bangalore University, Lakshminarsu married Savitri, daughter of Raman Nambiar, an Ayurvedic physician from Kasargode in North Kerala. Nambiar moved to Mangalore, where he is believed to have exorcised kutty chathan, or the little devil.

At the age of 85, Nambiar learnt Arabic in addition to the seven languages he already knew. About a month in advance, Nambiar pinpointed the precise date of his own death. Die he did on January 10, 1942 and not under any unnatural circumstance.

MGL, as Lakshminarsu came to be known, reached the Twin Cities of Hyderabad and Secunderabad with just four annas (25 paise) in his pocket. Starting with smalltime construction, his business grew rapidly. The young couple living in St. Francis Street, Secunderabad, was blessed with a son, Pratap Simha, and then a daughter, Usha.

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