by Arunabha Sengupta
His first success in Test cricket had been curiously with his far inferior trade of fastish left-arm spin. And no minor success that.
His hand had brushed against the shola-hat that remained perched tightly on his head even as he bowled. As a result, the ball had been misdirected and shorter than expected. Douglas Jardine, stepping out, had hit it straight to CK Nayudu at cover.
1/45 in a score of 403 was creditable enough and the 19-year-old debutant even earned a token present from the great Jack Hobbs, on tour as reporter. However, when he batted at No 7 with India in crisis, he shuffled across to glide the ball to leg and was trapped plumb by Stan Nichols.
Nevertheless, when India were asked to follow on, Nayudu asked him to pad up and go in with Naoomal Jeoomal. He got just 18, but by the time the next serious challenge came along, Mushtaq Ali was ensconced at the top of the order.
He batted at No 3 at Lord’s in the first Test of 1936, and thereby got his first duck in Test cricket.
And then, pushed further up to open the innings at Old Trafford, he was out of his ground when Vijay Merchant straight drove Alf Gover. The ball hit his bat and bounced to Arthur Fagg at short mid on who threw down his stumps. Just 13 in a low score of 203.
In reply, Hammond alone amassed 167 and England led by 368.
And then on the second afternoon, Merchant and Mushtaq opened the second innings.
The instructions Mushtaq had received from the management were curious.
“Merchant ran you out in the first innings (which itself was stretching the truth several furlongs). So run him out now.” Merchant had openly proposed CK Nayudu as captain in the Tests, and that did not sit well with the skipper, the infamous Maharajakumar of Vijaynagaram.
As they walked out to bat, Mushtaq spilled the beans. “Try it if you can,” Merchant laughed.
Far from Mushtaq trying to run Merchant out, it was Merchant who was soon keeping Mushtaq in. The latter had cover driven Gover ‘so swiftly that it ‘might have been a ray of light’, had played some exquisite cuts and the wine of the strokes had perhaps gone to his head. Soon, he had run down the wicket and tried to hit Gubby Allen out of the ground, missing by miles. However, Merchant was soon there by his side, coaxing him not to throw it away.
Nevertheless, Mushtaq took 15 off an Allen over, his strokes essayed with a ‘ball-bearing wrist’. Verity was on driven twice to get him to his fifty. And when Allen came back, he bowled fast and short outside off-stump. Mushtaq kept pulling him nonchalantly for a string of fours to the leg.
He was into the 90s, the heady batting drawing crazy applause from the stands, when Wally Hammond walked up to him. “My boy, be steady, get your hundred.”
It did come, amidst thundering cheers, just before stumps. India 190 for no loss. Mushtaq 106, Merchant 79.
Waiting for him in the pavilion were CB Fry, Plum Warner, Hobbs and Jardine. It was Fry who said, “Ranji would have been the happiest man.”
The cables poured in from the Indian princes, from Holkar, Bhopal and Jath.
Vizzy was too caught up in champagne batsmanship to be churlish about the run out that was not carried out. He presented Mushtaq with a gold wrist watch.
“His cricket at times was touched with genius and imagination,” wrote Cardus.
The next day he fell for 112, having added 203 with Merchant. His partner went on to hit 114. India ended on 390 for 5 when the Test ended. And Cardus made that classic but meaningless remark which has been abused by number-agnostic fans ever since, “There ought to be some other way of reckoning quality in this best and loveliest of games: the scoreboard is an ass.”
Mushtaq got into position early, to play strokes which no other batsmen could attempt or even imagine. His body turned quarter circle as he diverted straight balls to midwicket, he wafted with casual disdain on the off and late-cut with spectacular artistry. The hooks and pulls were flamboyant spectacles—cross-legged, arms upflung, face turned towards the sky, he looked as if offering homage to the gods of batsmanship.
The Calcuttans loved him. When the selectors almost committed the blasphemy of dropping him from the Test against West Indies in 1948, they raised the ‘No Mushtaq No Test’ cry. Reinstated, he rewarded them with a flashy 54 in the first innings. And then, set 431 in the final essay in 415 minutes, it was he who thought this audacious task was possible. With KC Ibrahim largely stonewalling, he pierced the ground with hits of silken class. When Atkinson trapped him leg before for 106, India had been cruising at 154 for 1.
Prior Jones, the West Indian spearhead, conceded that he did not know where to pitch the ball, before adding, “If Mushtaq comes to the West Indies he will be idolised.”
Fittingly Mushtaq’s final Test was the first one India ever won, his final effort of 22 including a 52-run stand with the opener of the new generation Pankaj Roy.
The longevity of his career, especially at the first-class level, speaks eloquently of the steely resolve that remained cloaked throughout under the silken grace of his batsmanship.
Mushtaq Ali was born on 17 Dec 1914.