Tribute: Salim Durani would have been perfect for T20; he was ahead of his times in so many ways

Salim Durani at Azad Maidan in Mumbai in May 2011. Few can claim to have touched so many lives for as long as Sixer Salim, the man known to produce sixes on demand at a time when hitting in the air was frowned upon. (Image source: Express file photo by Vasant Prabhu via Wikimedia Commons 4.0)

For Salim Durani, life was a celebration. It was meant to be lived to the fullest, and it was meant to be lived in the instant. To him, yesterday was history, tomorrow not so much of a mystery; it was the today that mattered.

To various people, he was Uncle Salim, Salim bhai or Prince Salim. From different folks, however, he evoked the same emotions, whether they had interacted with him or not – tremendous respect and genuine affection and warmth. Few can claim to have touched so many lives for as long as Sixer Salim, the man known to produce sixes on demand at a time when hitting in the air was frowned upon.

Those that were touched by his genius – for that’s what he was, no mistaking that – in the 1960s and 1970s recall with fondness the time spent with him, the lessons learned, the evenings enjoyed, the stories exchanged. They remember how he had time for everyone and how everyone had time for him. How he refused to take himself too seriously, even though he was outrageously gifted. And, with a tinge of sadness, how he could have achieved so much more had he been just a little self-interested, if not self-centred.

Also read: Salim Durani: Big-hearted Afghan who played for love of game

It was not in Durani’s nature, though, to be obsessed with himself or his accomplishments. Greatness sat on him lightly because he neither coveted nor chased it. His international numbers might not look too flattering – 29 Test matches, 1,202 runs, 75 wickets – but he was the classic example of not being judged by statistics but cherished for the joy he brought, for the lightness of his tread and the brightness of his smile.

In some ways, he was a restless soul constantly seeking excellence in different fields but not driven enough to pursue that passion to its logical conclusion. It was as if mundane things – mundane to him, that is – such as fame and money didn’t mean much, if at all. To him, life was to be enjoyed, and so when he decided to enjoy himself on the cricket field, he was quite the force.

Sixes flew from his bat with effortless ease as he obliged requests from his adoring fans seated in different parts of the ground. He didn’t smash the ball so much as coax and cajole and caress it from his presence, his lithe frame packing quite a punch even though he was light on his feet and oozed lazy grace.

While it was his batting, apart from his devilish good looks, which brought him the accolades, there was a mean bowler nestling inside him. Complementing his left-handed batting with left-arm spin of the highest quality, he could make the ball do his bidding whenever he so felt. Like on the tour of the West Indies in 1971 when, in Port of Spain, India registered their first Test win over the Caribbeans.

Trailing by a fair bit on the first count, West Indies were mounting a recovery of sorts, 150 for one in their second innings at close of play on the third evening. That evening, it goes, Durani told his captain, Ajit Wadekar, that if he was given the ball, he would guarantee two wickets. And not just any two wickets. He nominated the batsmen he would get out – Sir Garry Sobers and Clive Lloyd.

At the end of the over in which he got rid of Clive Lloyd, Salim bhai tossed the ball to Ajit Wadekar and told him, ‘I have done my job, no more bowling for me this innings’. What do you say to someone like that? What a genius!

- Former India skipper Gundappa Vishwanath.

“At the end of the over in which he got rid of Lloyd,” Gundappa Vishwanath, the former India skipper, tells me, his admiration all too obvious, “Salim bhai tossed the ball to Ajit and told him, ‘I have done my job, no more bowling for me this innings’. What do you say to someone like that? What a genius!”

Vishwanath is among the many who hold Durani in the highest esteem. “To the casual onlooker, he might have looked lazy, but he was a mean bowler,” Vishy, among India’s greatest batsmen of all time, continues: “I didn’t fancy myself against his spin, he was just a killer. I could never think of coming down the track, of playing my strokes. He didn’t give one loose ball to hit. He had a beautiful action, all languid grace, and he could turn the ball on any surface, anywhere in the world. His biggest threat was being bored to distraction due to the lack of a challenge, but if he made his mind up, he was something else.”

(Photo via Twitter)

While it was as a cricketer that Durani will forever be remembered, there were other strings to his overflowing bow. He was warm and generous, often putting himself in discomfort to alleviate the suffering of friends and strangers alike. He was as much at ease in the company of royalty – cricketing or otherwise – as he was comfortable riding pillion on even a stranger’s scooter in Jamnagar, and he could therefore hold his own in a fanciful setting dripping with formality or in a large group of fans and supporters and well-wishers who hung on to his every word like it was the gospel truth.

Durani’s larger-than-life persona almost dictated that he turn to Bollywood, even if he acted in only one movie – Charitra – opposite Parveen Babi. It wasn’t a movie that set the stage afire, but perhaps that’s only because acting wasn’t a part of the Durani persona. He was a natural in every sense of the word, and therefore most certainly out of place in the world of make-believe that Bollywood in the 1970s was.

In so many ways, Durani was ahead of his times. He would have been an ideal fit in 20-over cricket with his dash and verve and enterprise and derring-do, though he might not have appreciated being asked to dive around and scramble in the outfield at the rate of knots. As we have established before, Salim Durani was his own man, and in his passing as during his life, that’s how we will forever remember him.

Also read: Salim Durani dies at 88: Sachin Tendulkar, VVS Laxman pay their tributes to the former all-rounder