We are like this only

Prem Panicker

My colleague, Faisal Shariff, was telling me this story about VVS Laxman -- after the 'very very special' batsman had, through his Calcutta heroics, become a household word, that is.

Laxman was in Bombay along with the rest of the team when Faisal went over to the team hotel to interview the star batsman.

He called Laxman from the lobby, and the batsman said he would be right down. Faisal waited -- for 10 minutes, then 15. And then a breathless Laxman came rushing up, profuse in his apologies. 'I am soooo sorry,' Laxman said, 'I was just coming down to you when Sourav (Ganguly) wanted to see me and I couldn't get away before this...'

It was amazing, Faisal said, to see how humble the guy was, how despite his star status he was so unassuming, so concerned about the basic politenesses of life.

I can empathise with that -- I hate being late for an appointment, I hate to make anyone wait for me. And by the same token, I hate it equally when someone keeps me waiting.

There must be many of you out there who are like that, who do believe that punctuality is one of the basics of good manners.

But then, there are the others, the guys who seem congenitally incapable of ever being on time for anything at all. The kind of person you are tempted to refer to as 'the late Mr X...'

The Indian team boasts a few such -- and lo, as the poem goes, one name leads all the rest. Sourav Chandidas Ganguly is constitutionally incapable of being on time for anything, or anyone.

You and I can be late, and get away with an 'ooops, so sorry, got stuck in traffic'. But when the captain of India's cricket team comes late -- for a toss, an interview, a function -- it assumes connotations that go beyond the mere fact of unpunctuality.

'He is spoilt, arrogant, a brat!' 'He has no respect for others!' 'He should be disciplined!'

Ever since Ganguly took over the captaincy, we've all heard these, and more. So has Ganguly -- and each time such statements are made, he reacts with surprise, puzzlement, hurt.

Because, you see, he is genuinely unaware that his unpunctuality is an issue -- as far as he is concerned. Time as you or I know it is merely a vague yardstick to measure his days with, not some kind of absolute to guide every single action.

Which is why a Ganguly, who can tell you to meet him "at 10 sharp" can breeze in 45 minutes later with a smile, a hey-how's-tricks?, and not one word of apology. And leave you thinking, 'Hoo, boy, the Maharaja at his arrogant best, comes late, doesn't even have the courtesy to say he is sorry...'

But there is another side to this story. If he lands up for an appointment and finds you aren't there yet, he will as cheerfully wait for you. For a half hour, or an hour, if need be. And when you do get there, he does not even expect a 'sorry-got-stuck-in-traffic' or any other explanation, let alone an apology. Instead, he will cheerfully spend time with you, answer all your questions and even when you are done, keep discussing cricket and life with you -- completely oblivious to the fact that the watch he wears on his right wrist is ticking away, every tick delaying him that much further for his next appointment.

Time genuinely does not matter to him -- and that is true whether he is at the giving, or receiving, end.

That is why he will come late for a toss and then look puzzled when the rival skipper, the match referee, the media, jumps his bones. That is why he will, time and again, forget to hand in the mandatory captain's report on the umpires, which by norm should be in the hands of the match referee within three days of the end of the Test or ODI.

In anyone else, it would be a foible, a character trait that produces at best a momentary irritation in others. In an Indian captain, the same 'foible' could bring scathing media reports and, what is more to the point, a feeling among match referees and umpires worldwide that the perpetrator needs to be disciplined for what is perceived as arrogance, brattish behaviour.

Maybe, just maybe, it is time for Sourav Ganguly to learn to keep a closer eye on his wrist watch. To turn up on time for the toss. To walk up to the match referee and hand in his report on time, if not before.

These are little things -- but cumulatively, they could have a big impact on how he is perceived, on the treatment he gets from the officials who run the game.

And, maybe, too, we could learn -- to see human beings (and this is not just about Sourav Ganguly) as they are, flaws and all. To not seize on a little virtue and elevate someone to icondom -- and by the same token, to not jump on a little flaw and make a devil out of a man.

Yesterday's Diary: One dream too many