No nervousness as Madhav Mantri enters 90s

For his shrunk shank, and his big manly voice,
Turning again toward childish treble, pipes
And whistles in his sound. Last scene of all,
That ends this strange eventful history,
Is second childishness and mere oblivion,
Sans teeth, sans eyes, sans taste, sans everything
—William Shakespeare in As You Like It

For once, the Bard of Avon got it wrong. Or maybe, Madhav Krishnaji Mantri was born to prove him wrong.

India’s oldest surviving Test cricketer has turned a year older. By the way, do you know of anyone who, at 90, is on the board of a leading co-operative bank, or the trustee of a prominent school? Well, now you do.

Mantri is so robust that the phrase ‘Nervous Nineties’ doesn’t find a place in his dictionary and when you talk of a ‘century’, he does what most cricketers do — glance at the heavens.

The Mumbaikar played four Tests but it was his decision to introduce his nephew to the game that earned him more accolades. “I gave the little boy a copy of my first book. It was in Marathi and the title of the book translates to ‘How to Play Cricket’,” Mantri recalls.

“A day later, he came back and proclaimed, ‘Nana Mama, I’ve read the entire book, from start to finish’. I was obviously impressed,” he adds. That little boy went on to become a Little Master — Sunil Gavaskar.

A few years later, the young SMG gathered the guts to ask Mantri for one of his caps.

“I was getting ready for a Kanga League match and my cupboard was open. Sunil asked me if I could part with a cap. My almirah was adorned with my India, Mumbai, Maharashtra, Bombay University, ACC, Dadar Union and several other caps. I told him I had earned each one of them and that he had no right to take them away. That statement shook him. Years later, he came to me with his India cap. I felt proud then,” Mantri recollects fondly.

So what keeps him fit at this age? Well, he wakes up at sunrise and walks briskly for about 30 minutes. Breakfast comprises two boiled eggs and some milk. A plethora of newspapers and periodicals, neatly kept on the coffee table, await an avid reader. “I have a good lunch,” he says. That would mean rice… “No”, he retorts vehemently. “I haven’t eaten rice in over 50 years. I take two chappatis, dal and subzi.” Maybe it’s time for a siesta next? “No way! Why should I sleep in the afternoon? There’s so much to do,” pat comes the reply. “I continue with my reading and then go for a walk again,” he says. Where? “In the corridor. It takes me exactly 22 steps from one corner to the other. I do it for an hour in the evening.”

Not bad! Mantri’s dinner is minimalist. “A plantain and a cup of curd,” he says. No matter what, he hits the bed at half-past nine. And that holds true even if India are playing the World Cup final. Actually, that’s what he did on April 2 too!

So what are his plans today? “There is a family get-together in Chembur,” he informs.

“I’ll cut a cake for sure,” he laughs. But alas, ‘little’ Sunil won’t be able to join his dear ‘Nana Mama’. “He’s in England, isn’t he? The ODIs are starting soon,” he informs.

England, ah! Or should we say hell? “I watch TV occasionally. We dropped too many catches. But I am happy for (Rahul) Dravid,” he says, summing up India’s regrettable performance. Talk of regrets and Mantri has none. “I’m absolutely happy,” he says. But talk of the ‘century’ and he can’t but smile. Maybe Shakespeare should have also penned ‘What’s in an Age…”