Carrom Champion Nandu!

Carrom for me was one sport which could be played by almost anyone and everyone. It didn't distinguish between age, sex, strength, brain, brawn or speed. All it needed was some amount of skill, patience and concentration. You didn't need too much of space for the carrom-board and it was easy to set up. You could place it over a table, a stool and if you didn't find anything, you could simply plonk it on the ground.

This story dates to the golden age when there was no internet or mobile to spoil the kids; or adults for that matter. Outdoor and indoor games and activities held sway, people loved to interact more with each other than with stupid screens of various shapes and sizes. Ludo, Chess, Bagatelle, Snakes & Ladder, Scrabble, Uno etc were few popular indoor games. But my favourite game was Carrom. Our home was a mecca for many Carrom players in the neighborhood and beyond. We were a large joint family and most of the family members were excellent Carrom players. I had grown up watching many legendary bouts of Carrom matches at my home. So much so that the game ran in my blood! The only hitch was that the elder members of the house considered me too young to let me play with them and I considered my peers in the family no competition for me and hence found it less challenging to play with them. 

It was the summer of '80 and we were on our annual visit to Calcutta (nee Kolkata) for our summer vacation. Calcutta was Baba's (dad's) favourite city. He never liked Delhi much and given a chance would have shifted to Kolkata lock, stock & barrel. But there was this one instance when the reluctantly proud Dilliwaalah (colloquial for a person belonging to Delhi) would overcome his love for Calcutta and that was during the Carrom competitions held at his Uncle's house in Tollygunge. These matches were the most awaited part of the itinerary for Baba (as I called my dad), for he was passionate about Carrom and he couldn't digest losing to the Calcuttians (colloquial for a person belonging to Calcutta). This year was all the more important because the Dilliwaalahs had been losing for the last two years and if they lost this year too, it would be a hat-trick of losses for them and that is something Baba just couldn't let happen.

It was a beautiful Sunday afternoon and we settled down after a sumptuous lunch of vegetable fired rice, mutton curry and prawn curry followed by generous servings of mouth-watering Bengali sweets. It was now time for the much awaited Carrom competition. Bodo Dadu (dad’s eldest maternal uncle) shot his first salvo at Baba. “So Shombhu, (dad’s nickname) are you ready for losing again this year?” he poked Baba with a mischievous smile in his eyes. This had always been his game-plan. He would always rattle & rib Baba with such comments. But surprisingly, this time Baba kept his cool. He looked smilingly at Bodo Dadu and replied “Bodo Mama, don’t be so overconfident and sure of completing your hat-trick as I have my secret weapon with me this time around.” It was Bodo Dadu’s turn to be surprised. Raising his eyebrows, he asked “And what is that weapon, if I may ask?” Baba again smiled and lifted his finger to point out his secret weapon. It was now my turn to be surprised for his finger was pointing at me! Before I could realize what was happening, Baba quipped at Bodo Dadu, “Nandu will pair up with me for this year’s competition instead of Khokha (Subroto Uncle’s nickname) unless you have any reservation in losing to a younger opponent!” Bodo Dadu looked rattled. He had never expected this. However, he slowly regained his composure and amidst loud guffaws said “Bring it on Shombhu, as you are so hell bent on handing me the hat-trick of wins, let us get it over with quickly and then we can all move for a movie at Minerva Theatre followed by dinner at Trincas, both of course sponsored by your good-self!”  I was still not able to understand what was going on and wondered how Baba could take such a risk. Even as I was trying to come to terms with the situation, Baba motioned towards me and asked me to come over. He held my hand and started speaking “Look Nandu, I know you are surprised but believe me I had this in mind even before we started for this trip. I have seen you play and am confident that you can help us win. It doesn’t matter that you have been playing only with kids your age. You have the skills to beat the best in the game. You just need to be confident of your own capabilities, play to your potential and give them a tough fight. Bodo Mama and Mejo Mama haven’t seen you play. They think of you as a kid and therefore they will be overconfident and when one is overconfident, he or she makes mistakes. So, you are the ace up my sleeve. Just be calm and play naturally and I will try to match your level! Together we can do this” Baba’s words echoed in my ears. Baba had a short temper that got heightened during a carrom match. Any mistake on part of his partner, and he would blast him. So much so that others were afraid to pair up with him. But that day I felt he had planned not to lose his cool. He seemed to have more faith in my skills than I myself could ever have. I couldn’t let him down. Whatever the result, I was determined to give them a tough fight.

We moved to the Library where the Carrom-board was permanently placed. Four of us took our seats around the board and all other family members settled themselves around us to watch the game. One look at the board and the carrom-men and I was petrified. They were using the acrylic carrom-men which had come to India very recently but we had been playing with the wooden variety and till then hadn’t got a chance to set our hands on the acrylic ones. The acrylic carrom-men were supposed to be faster and moved over the carrom-board more smoothly. I immediately knew that I had to use less force on the striker than usual so as to give the right speed to the carrom-men to pocket them. The match started and the first game was a knockout punch for us. Our opponents raked up 7 points in the first game. For the uninitiated, a carrom match was won by the team which scored 29 points first. The match would continue till one team scored 29 points and were declared winners. We were trailing 7-0 at the end of the first game. End of Game 2 and the score read 11-0 in favour of our opponents. I had started to panic but surprisingly Baba retained his cool, which gave me some confidence. Game 3, and the script started changing. Both Baba and me had by now come to terms with the new carrom-men variant and were striking and pocketing these with more ease. We scored our first win in Game 3 and the scorecard read 11-2. Slowly but surely we started winning subsequent games. By the end of Game 7, we had taken a lead of 1 point over our opponents and the scores stood at 15-14 in our favour. They had now started panicking and were making silly mistakes. The thought of defeat in their own backyard and that too from a team which comprised of a 10 year old kid was too much for them to handle! As the match progressed I grew more and more confident and Baba was his usual brilliant self. Slowly we could see that the number of our supporters in the family had also increased and their cheering for us grew louder with each game we won. End of Game 12 and the score read 27-24 in our favour. Only 2 points separated us from a famous win. Game 13 – I think I played the best game of my life, a feat I could repeat very few times later in my Carrom career. I pocketed 8 carrom-men in a continuous streak and though the opponents pocketed the queen, Baba pocketed our final carrom-men with four of the opponents’ carrom-men still on the board. We had won! We had defeated the seemingly invincible Calcuttian duo of Bodo Dadu and Mejo Dadu 29-24 and halted their winning streak. I was elated and Baba was relieved. He was gleaming with joy; both at our winning the competition and at seeing his son outclass his arch rivals in their own backyard! That win also brought a fundamental change for me – I stopped considering 13 as an unlucky number! And yes, post match, we did go for the movie at Minerva Theatre and dinner at Trincas, albeit sponsored by Bodo Daddu!

That is how your own Natkhat Nandu came of age in that summer of ’80 and cemented a place for himself in the world of Carrom. Later in life I could relate that historic win to another historic sporting achievement, which was India winning the Cricket World Cup in 1983 at Lord’s, the Mecca of Cricket. India, the minnows, defeated the mighty West Indian team, halting their march to a hat-trick of World Cup wins. The euphoria, the joy, the emotions, the elation; were all similar.  There was one more similarity in this win that I could relate to later. It was when our own Sourav-da (Sourav Ganguly, the legendary Indian cricketer) started building his dream Indian team with young, uncapped players with lots of potential. What Baba had done in that summer of ’80 by picking me as his partner based on my potential and not my age or experience was similar to what Sourav-da did later in picking young, inexperienced but an extremely talented bunch of players for the Indian Cricket team! And how that team won the hearts of millions of Cricket fans in India and the world with their exemplary performances is now a part of Cricketing history!

It’s now time for me to sign-off but I promise to be back tomorrow with another story on my experiences and escapades. Till then, Ciao from your own Natkhat Nandu.

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