Bishan Singh Bedi was much more than a cricketer. He was a trusted historian, great storyteller, caring elder, friend, doting father, and life partner. And yes, he was also the greatest left-arm spinner that cricket has seen.
How do you encapsulate such a beautiful and decorated life in words? Bedi was an emotion you had to experience. His passion for the game was infectious. He could make a Peruvian fall in love with cricket “You have to live cricket. Not just play it,” was one of his earliest gems.
Knowing Bedi was a privilege. Bedi, the person. Bedi, the cricket analyst. Bedi, the teacher. He could talk about cricket, religion, history, politics, literature, or anything under the sky. His greed to acquire knowledge even as he crossed the 70-mark was amazing. “I am in my mandatory overs, but I must not be stumped,” he would say. His philosophy was simple yet forceful.
In our conversations, at some point he would bring in Don Bradman, the cricketer he admired most, and his guru, Gyan Parkash, known to few. In recent times, there have been very few conversations about cricket. He would call in the morning and give an enlightening discourse on life. He would quote Kabir, a poet who left a lasting influence on Bedi.
It would be apt to describe him as a philosopher with a mind always busy with ideas to make the world a happier place to live. He would reach out to sportspersons from other fields to commend their work, asking for the contact details of champions like Sania Mirza, PV Sindhu, and Mithali Raj. He would drop them a congratulatory message and feel delighted when they responded. He had this childlike admiration for young Indians who excelled in various walks of life.
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The best thing about Bedi was that he would never hold back from speaking his mind. He refused to accept Sri Lanka’s Muttiah Muralitharan as a clean bowler. Not many would know that he even refused to include Suresh Luthra in the playing XI when the left-arm seamer was a known terror. “I am not convinced of his action,” Bedi would reason. He always believed in playing fair.
Bedi’s love for tradition transcended boundaries. Bradman was his favourite for his “purity” in batting. Mansur Ali Khan Pataudi appealed to him for his “Indianness” in the dressing room. He had some off-field differences with Sunil Gavaskar. He made no effort to hide it. But he had told Sportstar, “He is the original little master. I cannot see another person who is better than Gavaskar. Honestly. I saw so much of him from very close quarters. I don’t have the capacity to write about him as Jack Fingleton wrote about Sir Don Bradman in Brightly Fades the Don. Gavaskar was the most complete batter we ever had. I have seen his correctness, his determination, and his will to defy all attacks in all conditions.”
If Lala Amarnath was a great raconteur, Bedi was the master. He could regale you with anecdotes from both on and off the field. What made him so lovable was his capacity to laugh at himself. For those who said he had become bitter, nothing could have been farther from the truth. He was realistic. If anything, he hated hypocrites. “You have to leave a legacy behind. So, why go with curses from people? For me, your work has to be shared.” He was always happy to give away the secrets of his trade.
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Being part of the famed Indian spin quartet was such a huge honour that he nurtured in his heart. “I was a mere cog. They were the main artists,” he would say of EAS Prasanna, BS Chandrasekhar, and S Venkataraghavan. Bedi’s humility was an example. You hit him for a six, and he would applaud your stroke.
“I have lost a dear friend. A great human being. His cricket is known to all, but he was such a kind part of our quartet. He would think for you. And rejoice in your success more than you do. There was no one like him. I am deeply saddened,” Chandrasekhar told Sportstar.
Venkataraghavan got emotional when he spoke about his teammate. “I have lost my mentor. He was a fabulous partner to bowl with. We had such a fine understanding. You can say we complemented each other. He celebrated my success. He commanded respect with his art. Believe me, Bish was a magician. He could tie batters to the crease at will. Literally played havoc with them. He was a guide to all of us, taking the burden on his shoulders. I feel like an orphan. Lost a great friend. He was one of the greatest the game has seen.”
“He commanded respect with his art”S Venkataraghavan on the late Bedi
For Kapil Dev, the death of Bedi is a “personal” loss. “What was so special about Mahatma Gandhi and Subhash Bose? They had a strong character. Bishan Bedi was in that league. My first captain, guide, and elder brother, he had the liberty to scold me, correct me. I did that with Sachin (Tendulkar) and Anil (Kumble). You don’t come across people like him. A grand human being first. The world knows of his cricketing feats. I know Bishan paaji as a great guiding force in my life.”
Bedi was as popular in Pakistan. “For me, he was an ustad who I learned from watching,” said Pakistan left-arm spinner Iqbal Qasim. “I grew up wanting to be like him. Watched him in the nets when he came to Pakistan in 1978. I was amazed to learn firsthand from him. He never thought I was from Pakistan. He was God’s man. A gift to cricket.”
Bedi was a godfather to hundreds of cricketers. He was the man solely responsible for taking Delhi and North Zone cricket to glory. Winning the Ranji Trophy in 1978-79, inspiring stars like Mohinder Amarnath, Kapil, Madan Lal, Kirti Azad and Surender Khanna, and honing talent like Maninder Singh, Kartik Murali, and many more. He also made it a point to speak to young journalists.
Of the many memories, this one is my favourite. In a media match, I hit him for a boundary. He applauded, and the next ball fired in an arm-ball that I never saw. As I passed him, he put his arm around me and whispered, “Never play cross-batted.”
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Bedi was also a great cook. The last recipe he probably learned was the ‘South Indian style’ curd rice, taken on demand via WhatsApp from my wife. She was the first person he called after getting the dish right.
If there was one thing he loved as much as cricket, it was his massive collection of books. He would famously say, “I don’t mind chasing a cricket ball to the ends of the world, but I do not want to chase after a book borrowed from me.”
The world will now claim to know Bedi. Why not? In my case, he knew me. And that is the thought I will cherish. I will not miss him, for he is with me—in my heart, in my pen, in my thoughts. Go well, sir.
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