STILL in East Africa, there was Zulfiqar Ahmed (Gulla) who took upon himself the role of a court jester and many a tense moment would be lightened by his sardarji jokes, he seemed to have an endless store of them. He was a cheerful man and as a cricketer was not exceptionally gifted, more than a useful off-spinner, he was a lower order batsman who could hold his end up and make some runs. But his real value to the team was that he could lift the sagging morale of the players when they appeared to be in the dumps.
While Hamid Jalal was the manager of the team, he took his duties seriously, Zulfiqar became the team’s ‘social’ manager. He would roundup the players who wanted to spend an evening in the town and there were some hilarious times the following morning, others who had missed out on the fun were given embellished accounts of what had transpired.
Wallis Mathias was also on the tour and while he was batting in a match in Kampala, we received a telegram that his father had passed away. It was decided to let him continue batting and the sad news would be conveyed to him during the tea-interval. It was decided that Zulfiqar would break the news to him and we were able to see another side to him. Wallis, understandably was grief-stricken and Zulfiqar nursed him through. At least he stopped the weeping, though he could do nothing about the void that is left when one loses a parent. But what Zulfiqar had done was to allow Wallis to grieve without losing his dignity.
Zulfiqar was Kardar’s brother-in-law and many felt that he owed his place in the Pakistan team to this family connection. This was manifestly unfair for Kardar, like Imran Khan, was not the sort of person who would be influenced by family links. Many years later, Kardar did ask me to give Zulfiqar a job in PIA and I did so. He took his job very seriously and whenever our paths could cross in the corridor, he would be holding a bundle of files and would say that he was too much in a hurry to exchange pleasantries. Even Kardar found this over-eagerness off-putting and complained that Zulfi thinks he is running PIA.
Perhaps, he was trying to make an impression on both of us that he was an ultra-conscientious worker, but it was so out of character. I told him, when he allowed me a chance to speak to him that he was in danger of becoming a babu. East Africa was the only tour I was with him.
He was on Pakistan’s tour of England in 1954 when fielding at first slip, on an exceptionally cold morning, he dropped a catch. The next ball came to him as a catch and he dropped it as well. Rather than feeling sheepish, he went up to the batsman and asked him why he was picking on him! He pointed to the other fielders and said they were all his brothers and they too wanted to be in the game! The batsman all but collapsed laughing. That was Zulfiqar Ahmed at his best.
I last met him a few years ago and he greeted me warmly and wondered if I had heard the latest one about the Sardarji and promptly proceeded to narrate it. Every team should have a ‘character’ like him in its ranks. The modern day cricketer is too self-centred. People like Zulfiqar put a human face on cricket.
Mahmood Hussain as a ‘character’ was in a class by himself. Fast bowlers can be temperamental. “They would have to be,” Maqsood Ahmed once explained to me, “why would they need such long run-ups?” Mahmood Hussain had joined us on the East Africa tour late and almost immediately, one heard the clattering of crockery. He was made Sher Khan’s roommate and both had stories to tell, but not within the earshot of the other. They managed a working arrangement.
Mahmood Hussain was one of the finest fast-bowlers produced by Pakistan; he had the willingness and the stamina to go for long spells. He could never have been accused of giving less than the best but he was combative and many an umpire felt his wrath when his appeal was turned down. His wrath was invariably expressed in Punjabi and the umpire was none the wiser that his legitimacy was being questioned but from his body-language knew that the fast-bowler was not happy.
On the 1960-61 tour of India, he had Nari Contractor caught behind. I was on the air and had said that the snick was loud enough to be heard in Luckhnow. The Test match was being played at Kanpur and of all the crowds in India, this was the nastiest one. The umpire gave the batsman not out and Mahmood Hussain went ballistic. He seemed to be trembling with rage and even the umpire looked frightened. The crowd set up a chorus of boos and slogans of murdabad were raised against Mahmood Hussain. When we got into the team bus, a lynch-mob gathered around it and shook the bus violently. Mahmood Hussain showed it a fist, which further enraged it. The driver could have abandoned the bus or just taken off; the door still open. He sensibly chose the latter course.
On the same tour, I arrived at our hotel The Great Eastern in Calcutta to find a commotion. Mahmood Hussain was having some sort of altercation with an elderly who turned out to be a college professor. Mahmood Hussain was telling him that he was a college graduate and held a senior job, was foreign trained and was a father of two. Actually, at that time he was father of one but later told me that father of two sounded better. He played a heroic role in the Delhi Test match but with the bat, when “all but he had fled”. Pakistan was on the verge of losing the Test. He was holding out, taking most of the strike. When Haseeb Ahsan came in to join him he told him he would kill him if he played some foolish shot. He had issued a similar warning to the umpire in case he was thinking of giving out leg-before. When V.V. Kumar, the leg-spinner came on, Haseeb went down the wicket and hit a straight six. Mahmood Hussain went down the wicket and one could see him gesturing angrily and Haseeb grinning. The match was saved. Later in the hotel I told him that he properly qualified as an all-rounder. And he threw all modesty to the wind and said that he was even prepared to open the innings. I don’t think he was joking. “Shaikh Sahib,” I told him, “don’t get too carried away.”
STILL in East Africa, there was Zulfiqar Ahmed (Gulla) who took upon himself the role of a court jester and many a tense moment would be lightened by his sardarji jokes, he seemed to have an endless store of them. He was a cheerful man and as a cricketer was not exceptionally gifted, more than a useful off-spinner, he was a lower order batsman who could hold his end up and make some runs. But his real value to the team was that he could lift the sagging morale of the players when they appeared to be in the dumps.
