Rediff Logo
Line
Channels: Astrology | Broadband | Chat | Contests | E-cards | Money | Movies | Romance | Weather | Wedding | Women
Partner Channels: Auctions | Auto | Bill Pay | Education | Jobs | Lifestyle | TechJobs | Technology | Travel
Line
Home > Cricket > Columns > Harsha Bhogle
November 13, 2000
Feedback  
  sections

 -  News
 -  Betting Scandal
 -  Schedule
 -  Database
 -  Statistics
 -  Interview
 -  Conversations
 -  Columns
 -  Gallery
 -  Broadband
 -  Match Reports
 -  Archives
 -  Search Rediff


 
 Search the Internet
          Tips

E-Mail this report to a friend

Unlikely victim

Harsha Bhogle

At some point in the lives of most men, opportunity and greed knock at the door. Often, like identical twins, they look alike and wear the same clothes. It is an irresistible combination. And like with so many of us, it came knocking on Mohammad Azharuddin’s door.

People have different ways of treating such visitors. Most succumb. Some mount defences. Their upbringing and family value systems come in the way; some use religion and the power of its teachings to shield themselves; some have intense personal convictions. In Azharuddin’s wardrobe, amidst the Armanis and Versaces, all three found a place at varying times. That is the staggering tragedy amidst the reality of today.

You might say that values and religion represent formidable fortresses; that if they crumble, maybe they were mere facades that glossed over a more fragile core. It would be easy to say that of Azharuddin today. Over the last two weeks, I have been searching within and like recurring motifs, certain stories come haunting back; little anecdotes that made writing his biography one of the most rewarding experiences of my life.

He told me the story of how, as a little child, he had shooed away a little bird that came searching for grain and of how he had been punished by his grandfather for doing so. He spoke with great conviction about his upbringing and would often return to the point that scoring runs was transitory, that being a good human being was paramount. And I saw examples of that; in the manner in which he gave freely to the poor, to budding cricketers. And he did so quietly, so no one would burden him with nobility. That was not a façade. That is why I am amazed that he gave in.

And he was religious. He prayed regularly, not as a chore but out of a conviction that he was doing right. He read the Quran frequently and, as some of his teammates will remember, quoted profusely from it. Few people complained because most religions teach the same things anyway but there was an intensity in the manner he spoke that was revealing. For someone so inarticulate early on, and so predictable later, he was amazingly lucid when it came to explaining religion. From time to time, he would pull out a piece of paper, scribble into it and give it to friends. "Read it from time to time, it will help you," he would say. If religion could keep greed away, Azhar would have been the last man standing.

His team-mates believed him as well. Before they fell out famously, Navjot Sidhu called him "God’s man on earth" and Javagal Srinath used to gush about his humility. I can confirm that for I was often witness to his generosity and dignity. So could many others from Hyderabad and elsewhere and that is why I can believe a newspaper report that P R Man Singh came close to breaking down when he heard the news. Man Singh had helped Azhar greatly, as indeed he had helped me and many others in Hyderabad.

Over the last couple of years, as more stories began appearing in newspapers, I think a lot of people, while bracing themselves for the worst, were secretly hoping it was untrue. Now, his confession has sealed that and we must now ask ourselves what drove such an unlikely man onto a path of self-destruction. For maybe there are lessons there for a newer, younger generation of cricketers.

At the root of it all, and there is an uncanny parallel here with Hansie Cronje, is an addiction to money and the benefits it seems to bestow on those that possess it. Cronje too was an admirable man, upright on most fronts and like Azhar, a good cricketer and a wonderful team player. Cronje has stated that he was addicted to money and though he knew that what he was doing was wrong, he found himself increasingly drawn towards it. I wonder sometimes if that was the case with Azhar as well; using his income to create a lifestyle and then having to go in search of it to satisfy this newly created monster.

What makes the Azhar story particularly scary is the fact that his transformation took place, not at an impressionable age but when he was well into his thirties. It is interesting as well, going by the CBI report and by his own admission, that this began around 1995-96, which coincides with a period of turmoil in his personal life. His marriage was in trouble, the media was after him, he had turned short-tempered and a near-permanent frown had appeared. Did that lead to a lowering of the guard? Or had the love for the good life taken over so completely by then?

Even scarier, and that is why I talk of his early life, is that if Azhar with his original middle-class morals, could be drawn into this horrible web, anyone can. And there is really no way we can prevent another from going down this path. To reduce the money paid to our cricketers would be to cut the limbs they stand on. How then do we prevent another, equally colossal, tragedy?

In an ideal world, we would be able to build pride for the nation and seed into young minds the value of attaining something that virtually anyone else in India would give anything else to get. I fear that would be easily said for cricket cannot be an island in an atmosphere where pride is so thinly spread. How do you feed a 19-year-old on a diet of national pride when he sees more mature and supposedly reliable people mortgaging it all the time?

But we must try. Our young cricketers should be offered the pads and the helmets of life. If they choose not to wear them, there is little we can do. But that cannot stop us from trying. We cannot afford a repeat of the deeply distressing story of a man who was marked out for so much more.

Harsha Bhogle

Mail Harsha Bhogle