A tale of the strange world bond between Gautam Gambhir and Kolkata Knight Riders
The lands were parched. The much-promised kalbaisakhi rains had failed to pour over the eastern land of the country and the area bore a sombre look. Dry. Cracked. Bereft of all signs of life. The towering image of the Howrah Bridge overseen by the even mightier Victoria Memorial that spanned across the lush green Maidans still attracted hordes, but the Hooghly flowed on silently. Almost like an automated machine. The passion-driven citizens went on with their work and the rickety-rackety tram noisily chugged alone.
In the old-world charm of Kolkata, silence prevailed. In the clamour of the early morning bazaars, a weird air of stillness remained. The joggers ,whiling away their time over the sun-kissed Rabindra Sarobar were in animated discussions, like they always would be, but the G-word was strangely missing. News had poured in that the favourite son had been ominously thrust away from the Kolkata Knight Riders’ squad. Unable to fetch in the desired results over the last three seasons, the “cold” owners had taken the harsh decision to segregate the city’s own from the city itself.
Sourav Ganguly. The name itself is enough to stir a plethora of emotions amongst the passion-driven fans. He is not only seen as a mere cricketer but also as a being embodying the soul of the city itself. When Kolkata had been cast aside by the emergence of the other metros, a young player rose up the ranks to stamp it back on the national map. When it became a spot which bred lazy individuals, Ganguly swamped the thoughts aside with his aggression. He not only brought back the lost dignity for the state by climbing up to captain India, but also ferociously held on to his roots and allowed the craze contained within the place to exude all over.
But today, this very figure found no place in the IPL set-up. Instead, Gautam Gambhir, Indian Cricket’s shining star, was allowed to take over the reins after he too had been mercilessly ignored by his former franchise. His motto remained simple. Guide the team to the paths of success, something which he had not yet witnessed with the Delhi Daredevils. The tales of Kolkata’s stubborn support and their mighty roar over the Eden Gardens had not eluded him and the Delhiite walked out, fresh from his heroics in the World Cup Finals in 2011, to a sight that bemused and befuddled.
Empty stands. A hushed cheer from the handful that were gathered. Surely, this was not the hallowed Eden Gardens that he had played on before. The stadium that could send opponents into a frenzied fear was now conjuring up frightening tales within him. Was the city so hostile and so oblivious to a team just because their “pride” had been left behind? Did his efforts to bring out triumphs for the side and for the fans bear no importance?
Standing at the middle of the field, haunted by the empty ghosts of Kolkata’s ignorance, Gambhir realised. He realised why this place was ever so passionate and so involved when it came to sports. He realised that for them, cricket was not only a game played between the willow and the cherry. For them, it was an emotion; one that paralleled Satyajit Ray’s love towards the unexplored cinema or Rabindranath Tagore’s bond with the unwritten verses.
Standing aloof, that day, he was determined.
***
The chills from the wintry morning have yet not vanished. The towering image of the Vidyasagar Setu overseen by the majestic Fort William that neighbours the chaos of Esplanade still attracts hordes but the famed Indian Coffee House bears a sombre look. Almost as if a wave of stillness has swept over the place. The citizens remained huddled in front of the television; their daily chores left aside and the usually crowded Sealdah station houses an empty presence.
The scenes and sights over the city have continued just the way it always has. The floating bazaar is still meshed with the wastes of the poultry and the addas over the steaming cups of chai across the Writer’s Building have not gone missing. But something remains bereft. News has trickled in that their adopted son Gambhir is making a way back to the place he calls home. Rumours suggest that the Indian opener would want to finish his cricketing career in the city where he started his growth. But they were all rumours.
The G-word is conspicuously absent again today, like it had been seven years ago, but the hearts hope against hope. It thinks of the days when the skipper burst through the animosity to carve a special place amidst the citizens. It thinks of the trophies and the haphazard celebrations that had taken place at the Eden Gardens, which were fuller than full this time around. It remembers the attacking fields set to MS Dhoni and the euphoria which was visible, even after it had been pledged that the new-look KKR side would never be cheered for again.
It shyly thinks of the young side that had been written off and the captaincy skills that guided them to the two trophies. His determination in getting Sunil Narine on board. His anger upon getting dismissed without guiding the team home. His angst towards the sloppy Yusuf Pathan. His superstitions in wearing his pads until the match had not been sealed. His daring approach, where he did not fear away from attacking even Virat Kohli. His efforts to make Kolkata forget the demons of the past and embrace the new. His words of motivation that pushed the KKR bowlers to shoot out Royal Challengers Bangalore for a paltry score. His Bengali New Year greetings; his apologies. A silent belief in his abilities.
How Kolkata converted, we will never know. How Kolkata filled on to those 66,000 stands in every game and in every encounter after it had promised to never do so, we will never know. But what is known is that the words “aami Kolkatar chhele” (“I am Kolkata’s son”) will resonate each time the new KKR captain takes the field. As much as the city will love Byomkesh Bakshi and its Rasgullas, it shall hold a special place for a player who taught Kolkata to tide over all grief and challenge the obstacles, while aiming for greater heights and grander summits.
Surrounded with farewell messages, today, he sheepishly smiles.