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<h1 align="center" style="line-height: 150%; margin-top: 0; margin-bottom: 0">
<font size="4">I Played Football</font></h1>

<p class=MsoNormal style='text-align:justify;line-height:150%;mso-pagination:
none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none; margin-top:0; margin-bottom:0'>&nbsp;</p>

<p class=MsoNormal align=center style='text-align:center;line-height:150%;
mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none; margin-top:0; margin-bottom:0'>(1)</p>

<p class=MsoNormal style='text-align:justify;line-height:150%;mso-pagination:
none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none; margin-top:0; margin-bottom:0'></p>

<p class=MsoNormal style='text-align:justify;line-height:150%;mso-pagination:
none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none; margin-top:0; margin-bottom:0'>SOME of you have asked to
hear about my performance in football. I have already told you something on an
earlier occasion. Let us have a little more today.</p>

<p class=MsoNormal style='text-align:justify;text-indent:11.0pt;line-height:
150%;mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none; margin-top:0; margin-bottom:0'>I
have dabbled in football almost since my birth or, to be more exact, from the
time I barely completed five. My hand was introduced to the pen or chalk and my
feet touched the ball practically at one and the same time. Would you believe
it, I had my formal initiation into studies, not once but twice, and on both
occasions it was performed with due ceremony on a Saraswati <span class=SpellE>Puja</span>
day, as has been the custom with us. The first time it took place, I was only
four years old and I cannot now tell you why it had to be at that early age. It<b>
</b>may be that I had gone into tantrums on seeing somebody else's initiation
and a mock ceremony had to be gone through just in order to keep me quiet. But
I had to go through the ceremony once again at the age of five, for according
to the scriptures one cannot be properly initiated at the age of four, so the
earlier one had to be treated as cancelled and a fresh initiation given to make
it truly valid. Perhaps this double process has had something to do with the
solid base and the maturity of my learning!</p>

<p class=MsoNormal style='text-align:justify;text-indent:.15in;line-height:
150%;mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none; margin-top:0; margin-bottom:0'>But
if I was to play football, I must at least get hold of a ball. Here you have
your footballs by the dozen, as if they were tennis balls. But we had to move
heaven and earth in those days in order to procure a single ball. Even the
older boys could seldom boast of more than one, or at the most one</p>

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mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none; margin-top:0; margin-bottom:0'>
<span
style='font-size:10.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:12.0pt;'>Page – 445 
</span></p>


<hr size=2 width="100%" align=center>

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mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none; line-height:150%; margin-top:0; margin-bottom:0'>
<span class=GramE>and</span>
a half – one already half-worn and the other a mere half, an old tattered ball
with a thousand patches like the shoes of Abu <span class=SpellE>Salim</span>
in the story. But young people never lack devices. We discovered a substitute,
the Indian grape-fruit or shaddock that looks like a ball. No doubt the touch
was hard, but it could be reduced to a convenient softness with our kicks and
blows and poundings with the fist. The only trouble was that the thing gave way
soon afterwards on receiving such treatment. But this particular fruit was no
rarity in our part of the country. There were any number of trees and it grew
in profusion; there were several trees in our compound itself.</p>

<p class=MsoNormal style='text-align:justify;text-indent:10.3pt;line-height:
150%;mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none; margin-top:0; margin-bottom:0'><span
class=GramE>Now to announce my first victorious feat.</span> I was then about
seven, or eight at the most. The older boys were playing and I stood as a
spectator, perhaps an envious one. They suddenly found themselves short of one
player: one of their goalkeepers was missing. Someone called to me, &quot;Hey,
you there, would you go and take your stand at that goal? You will have nothing
much to do, simply keep on standing.&quot; A nominal goal-keeping in fact,
since they had to have a goalkeeper in order to playa game. And till the very
last moment, the ball did not come to our side of the field at all. It was
growing fairly dark when one of the opponents suddenly came in running and
aimed the ball at my goal from a little distance. No one had any doubts as to
what would happen and they all began to shout, &quot;Goal, goal!&quot; for how
could a little kid like me manage to stop the ball? But the miracle happened: I
did stop the ball and took hold of it before it could pass into the goal. Our
people now cried out, &quot;No, no, no goal!&quot; and what a pandemonium
followed! They started dancing about with <span class=GramE>myself</span>
caught up in their arms. &quot;Bravo, bravo, my dear fellow,&quot; rang the cry
all around. For me it was like the tiger's first taste of blood, to use a
hunters' phrase.</p>

<p class=MsoNormal style='text-align:justify;text-indent:10.55pt;line-height:
150%;mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none; margin-top:0; margin-bottom:0'>Years
went by and I grew into an expert player while still in school. I played
right-out in the forward line and began</p>

<p class=MsoNormal align=center style='text-align:center;mso-pagination:none;
mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none;border:medium none;mso-border-bottom-alt:
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<span
style='font-size:10.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:12.0pt;'>Page – 446</span></p>

<hr>

<p class=MsoNormal style='text-align:justify;line-height:150%;mso-pagination:
none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none; margin-top:0; margin-bottom:0'><span class=GramE>to</span>
get used to that position alone. But this gave me the habit of using only one
foot, the right, and I became an adept of the single foot. I could not make
much use of the left, except as an occasional stand-by at need, just as <span
class=SpellE>Rajen</span> still does with his right. Do you know where I got
real good training in the use of my left foot? That was after I came here in <span
  class=SpellE>Pondicherry</span>. And it took me several 
years to make it perfect. But I developed a different style for each of the two 
feet. The right was used for high long shots, such as corner kicks and overhead 
passes, and the left was reserved for the low power<span
class=SpellE>ful</span> drives. It is these left-foot drives that have got me
most of my goals. In the <span class=SpellE>Pondicherry</span> team there was
no place for me as right-out, for the boy who played in that position could not
play in any other position but he played very well as right-out. His name
should be recorded here, it was <span class=SpellE>Sinnas</span>, <span
class=SpellE>Evariste</span> <span class=SpellE>Sinnas</span>; he was an Indian
Christian and the name was like that. So I was given the right-in position. I
played on the right wing, and <span class=SpellE>Moni</span> (Suresh <span
class=SpellE>Chakravarti</span>) played left-out. The two of us, <span
class=SpellE>Moni</span> <span class=SpellE>Chakravarti</span>, or <span
class=SpellE>Chakra</span> for short, and myself soon acquired quite a name
here thanks to our football. Our styles were very different, though <span
class=SpellE>Moni's</span> tactics were simple. Once he got in possession of
the ball – the ball had to be passed on to him for he seldom bothered to
snatch it for <span class=GramE>himself</span> – but once he got the ball he
was irresistible. What a run he could give! He seemed to fly past the touch
line and no one could catch up with him or stop him till he reached near the
corner post. From there he would send a high kick which would land the ball
right in front of the goal, as though it were a corner shot. I would be there
to receive it and do the needful.</p>


<p class=MsoNormal style='text-align:justify;text-indent:10.3pt;line-height:
150%;mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none;
border:medium none;mso-border-bottom-alt:solid windowtext .75pt;padding:0in;
mso-padding-alt:0in 0in 21.0pt 0in; margin-top:0; margin-bottom:0'>I played a different style. I did not lag
far behind <span class=SpellE>Moni</span> in the matter of speed, but I was an
extremely calm and steady player. <span class=SpellE>Moni</span> raced like a
storm without caring for anything or anybody, as if it was a matter of life
and <span class=SpellE>death. This</span> cost him a broken collar-bone more
than once and he had serious injuries to his face and nose. I too ran fast</p>

<p class=MsoNormal align=center style='text-align:center;line-height:150%;
 margin-bottom:0'><font size="2">Page – 447</font></p>

<hr>


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<span
class=GramE>enough</span>, and carried the ball past my opponents whenever I
could, but my aim was always to pass on the ball and to receive it back. I
tried to keep my position, anticipate where the ball was likely to land, in
what positions our men would be found. A well-known player from 
<span
class=SpellE>Coochbehar</span> had once remarked on noticing the easy manner
and artistic style of my game, &quot;There is a fine individuality about your
play; it is calm and steady, neat and clean.&quot; Indeed my aim was to playa
clean game: none was to touch me in the legs nor was I to touch my opponent's
body, whatever contacts came must come through the ball alone. I had nothing to
do with what they call a robust <span class=GramE>game, that</span> was miles<i>
</i>apart from my idea of football. That explains why after so many years of
football, I have never had a fracture or injury except for a slight twist to
one of my toes. I must however confess that I too have done a bit of roughing
in my days, but I was forced to it; for in those days, &quot;push him own&quot;
was the accepted slogan and it was not treated as a foul. But even the pushing
had its do's and don'ts; you could not just push your way through as you liked.<span
style='mso-tab-count:1'>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; </span></p>
<p class=MsoNormal style='text-align:justify;line-height:150%;mso-pagination:
none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none;border:medium none;mso-border-bottom-alt:
solid windowtext .75pt;padding:0in;mso-padding-alt:0in 0in .25in 0in; margin-top:0; margin-bottom:0'>
<span
style='mso-spacerun:yes'>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; </span><span class=SpellE>Moni</span> and I<b>, 
</b>and
with us our club, the '<span class=SpellE>Cercle</span> <span class=SpellE>Sportif</span>'
of 
<span class=SpellE>Pondicherry</span>,
suddenly came into the limelight after a particular match. We had a visiting
team from
<span class=SpellE>Vellore</span>.
This team was thought to be invincible. They had won all the matches they
played on their way to 
<span class=SpellE>Pondicherry</span>.
The first time they met with a reverse was at our hands; we won by a margin of
two goals. They felt humiliated and demanded a return match the next day. It
was a tense game ending in a draw, so we could keep up our prestige. They never
expected to meet such a formidable team as ours in an obscure spot like 
<span
  class=SpellE>Pondicherry</span> – 
<span
  class=SpellE>Pondicherry</span> was certainly an obscure
enough spot from the point of view of football. In our team, four of us were
what they called &quot;<span class=SpellE>Swadeshi</span>&quot; players – this
was the name given to those who took asylum here after doing patriotic work.
All the four were from 
Bengal. <span class=SpellE>Moni</span>
was there and Bejoy – he played centre-half – and <span class=SpellE>Purnachan<span
class=GramE>dra</span> Pakre, </span></p>
<p class=MsoNormal align=center style='text-align:center;line-height:150%;
mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none;border:medium none;
mso-border-bottom-alt:solid windowtext .75pt;padding:0in;mso-padding-alt:0in 0in .25in 0in; margin-top:0; margin-bottom:0'>
<span
style='font-size:10.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:12.0pt;'>Page – 448</span></p><hr>
<p class=MsoNormal style='text-align:justify;line-height:150%;mso-pagination:
none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none; margin-top:0; margin-bottom:0'>
<span class=SpellE>a student from Chandernagore who pursued his studies here, and myself.
This Purnachandra had gone one better than the rest
of us at least in one respect. He had mastered the Tamil language to such a
degree that I could find him devouring Tamil novels of the
&quot;yellow-back&quot; type with complete ease. How many of us here have
learned even the Tamil alphabet?</span></p>

<p class=MsoNormal style='text-align:justify;text-indent:10.05pt;line-height:
150%;mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none; margin-top:0; margin-bottom:0'><span
class=GramE>Now to come back to Bengal.</span> When we returned to Bengal after a
lapse of four years and they saw us play at <span class=SpellE>Rungpore</span>,
we were given the name, &quot;<span class=SpellE>Madrasi</span> players&quot;,
and it was given out that two absolutely formidable &quot;<span class=SpellE>Madrasi</span>
players&quot; had arrived in town. So the Town Club of <span class=SpellE>Rungpore</span>
decided that they must now be able to annex the <span class=SpellE>Dinajpur</span>
Shield, the most coveted trophy in North Bengal. A
couple of players were &quot;hired&quot; from elsewhere to make the team
perfectly invincible. And off we went to <span class=SpellE>Dinajpur</span>.
The performance of our team had already received adequate publicity, for we had
beaten <st1:PlaceName><span class=SpellE>Bogra</span></st1:PlaceName>
 <st1:PlaceType>Town</st1:PlaceType> by two goals. One of these
goals had been scored by me and it had brought profuse applause. Let me stop
and tell you first about that particular feat. I was playing right-out. A ball
came to me about mid-field, near the touch line. The field lay practically
open. The half-back, a non-Indian, was a little farther away and I could easily
pass him by. The full-back rushed at me, but he too was by-passed. As there was
no point in waiting longer, I aimed a shot at the goal. But instead of shooting
with the right foot – I was playing right-out you remember – I used the left.
The goalkeeper was naturally expecting the shot to land on his right; instead
it went to his <span class=SpellE>left<span class=GramE>;and</span> got
us a fine goal, and what hurrahs! Needless to add, these things do not happen
by previous plan or calculations, they come in a matter of moments and automatically.
One can of course try to reason out later how it all happened. This in the
parlance of Yoga is what Sri Aurobindo calls an &quot;involved process&quot;.</span></p>

<p class=MsoNormal style='text-align:justify;line-height:150%;mso-pagination:
none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none; margin-top:0; margin-bottom:0'><span
style='mso-spacerun:yes'>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; </span><span class=GramE>To come back to the
point.</span> It was the last match of the 
</p>

<p class=MsoNormal align=center style='text-align:center;border:medium none;
mso-border-bottom-alt:solid windowtext .75pt;padding:0in;mso-padding-alt:0in 0in 1.0pt 0in; line-height:150%; margin-top:0; margin-bottom:0'>
<span
style='font-size:10.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:12.0pt;'>Page – 449 </span></p>

<hr>

<p class=MsoNormal style="line-height: 150%; margin-top: 0; margin-bottom: 0">
<span class=GramE>tournament</span>,
the final: <span class=SpellE>Dinajpur</span> Town Club <i>versus </i><span
class=SpellE>Rungpore</span> Town Club. Everyone felt certain that we would be
the winners, ours was such a strong team; the only question was: by how many
goals? We too felt the same way. However, soon after the play began, I think
it was before halftime in any case, something entirely unexpected came to
pass. One of the <span class=SpellE>Dinajpur</span> forwards, I cannot now
recall his name but he was a very good player, finding our side of the field
almost empty – we were pressing them hard on their side of the field – aimed a
shot from beyond the half boundary line, almost near mid-field. Our goalkeeper
was caught napping and it was a fine score. Everybody was flabbergasted. During
the next half-hour or so, we held them pressed to their goal mouth and went on
bombarding them with shots at the goal. But each time we shot, the ball struck
the post or the cross-bar or it hit the goalkeeper, it could never be placed
inside the goal. It was a regular bombing every minute that we kept up, but
nothing could happen; it looked as if somebody had raised a wall against us. I
tried six or seven corner kicks, all of them first-class, but to no avail. A <span
class=SpellE>Kumartuli</span> player in our team was so impressed by my corner
kicks that he extended to me an invitation. &quot;Why don't you come and play
in Calcutta? What is the point in
wasting yourself here in a provincial town? You should come and play with us in
our team.&quot; I could not however accept the invitation; I am going to tell
you why. Anyhow, we did not manage to equalize that goal and had to accept
defeat. I never felt so disappointed. We returned to <span class=SpellE>Rungpore</span>
with heads down and not a word spoken.</p>

<p class=MsoNormal style='text-align:justify;text-indent:11.0pt;line-height:
150%;mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none; margin-top:0; margin-bottom:0'>But
do you know what had happened? It was explained to us soon after the match by
one of their outstanding players,<i> </i>perhaps he was their captain. He
actually half belonged to our team, for his relatives lived in <span
class=SpellE>Rungpore</span> and he himself sometimes came and played for the <span
class=SpellE>Rungpore</span> team. &quot;This serves you right,&quot; he said.
&quot;Mother Kali is a living goddess, you see.&quot; With this, he took out a
half-<span class=SpellE>pice</span> bit from his</p>

<p class=MsoNormal align=center style='text-align:center;text-indent:11.0pt;
line-height:150%;mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:
none;border:medium none;mso-border-bottom-alt:solid windowtext .75pt;padding:0in;
mso-padding-alt:0in 0in 8.0pt 0in; margin-top:0; margin-bottom:0'>
<span style='font-size:10.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:
12.0pt;'>Page – 450 </span></p>

<hr>

<p class=MsoBodyText style="line-height: 150%; margin-top: 0; margin-bottom: 0">pocket and went on, &quot;We had been to the Kali temple;
we made this offering to the goddess and said to her, 'Mother, here we have
come, begging for thy protection; take this half-<span class=SpellE>pice</span>
as our modest offering and give us the victory this afternoon.' Now, see <span
class=GramE>how</span> she has got us the victory. How else could we have stood
up against a team such as yours?&quot; So, that was how. We had been swelling
with pride at our prowess and ability, somewhat in the spirit of <span
class=SpellE>Duryodhana</span> haughty in the pride of his troops of the divine
gift, whereas they had been modest like the <span class=SpellE>Pandavas</span>
reliant on Sri Krishna. This at least was the lesson that came to me.</p>

<p class=MsoNormal style='text-align:justify;text-indent:12.0pt;line-height:
150%;mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none; margin-top:0; margin-bottom:0'>Let
me tell you a story here in this connection. It is not a story, but a thing
that actually happened. It was the time, at the beginning of the century or
even earlier, when the youth of Calcutta
took to football seriously and enthusiastically. And among the pioneers was the
same team – of which I spoke just now – <span class=SpellE>Kumartuli</span>.
This club had at its head as manager and inspirer a gentleman who gave his all –
money and time and energy – for his <span class=SpellE>organisation</span>. He
had the ambition to see his boys play and play successfully with the European
and military teams. It was an ambition. <span class=GramE>For there was no
comparison in those days between a team of British soldiers and a team of
weakling Indians.</span> The Indians in football were almost like new recruits
in comparison with the seasoned Britons. First of all, the Indians played all
bare-footed against eleven pairs of high boots. Secondly, the Britons were
strong robust beef-eating bodies while the Indians were almost airy nothings.
Thirdly, the British had a long strenuous training behind them: the Indians
were newcomers in the field. However, this particular Indian team worked and <span
class=SpellE>practised</span> with zeal in view of a match with the <span
class=SpellE>Britishers</span>. The result of course was a foregone conclusion.
They were lucky to get defeated by only a couple of goals.</p>

<p class=MsoNormal style='text-align:justify;text-indent:10.3pt;line-height:
150%;mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none; margin-top:0; margin-bottom:0'>Now
the British team had a generous captain who became interested in the matter and
undertook to coach and train</p>

<p class=MsoNormal align=center style='text-align:center;mso-pagination:none;
mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none;border:medium none;mso-border-bottom-alt:
solid windowtext .75pt;padding:0in;mso-padding-alt:0in 0in 1.0pt 0in; line-height:150%; margin-top:0; margin-bottom:0'>
<span
style='font-size:10.0pt;'>Page – 451 </span></p>

<hr>

<p class=MsoNormal style='text-align:justify;line-height:150%;mso-pagination:
none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none; margin-top:0; margin-bottom:0'><span class=GramE>the</span>
Indians. A big tournament came on at about that time and this Indian team was
pitted against a famous <span class=GramE>Military</span> team, <span
class=SpellE>Blackwatch</span> or something. The manager – the guiding spirit
of the Indian team - was, as I said, a high-spirited, enthusiastic, ebullient
personage - he had only one <span class=GramE>defect</span>, if defect you call
it: he was addicted to drinking. That was a fillip to increase his enthusiasm
and buoyancy and daredevilry. He used to invite his players to feastings and
revelry – to inspire them and encourage them. Now the day of days approached.
And the-gentleman was in jitters, terribly nervous: how were his boys to face
these giants? And a change came upon him. On the previous day he refrained from
drinking, fasted, observed <span class=SpellE><i>mauna</i></span><i> </i>or
silence, went to <span class=SpellE>Kalighat</span> and worshipped Mother Kali.</p>

<p class=MsoNormal style='text-align:justify;text-indent:11.75pt;line-height:
150%;mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none; margin-top:0; margin-bottom:0'>On
the next day the hour struck and the players were about to take the field. The
team of British soldiers came in carriages (there were horse-carriages in those
days), with music, bugle and drum, singing and shouting, sure of their victory.
They were giants indeed, each a <span class=GramE>Hercules,</span> and the
Indians were pigmies before them. The play started. Just then our manager
noticed that at a distance, away from the field, under a tree was sitting a
Sannyasi. Directly he saw the Sannyasi, he ran, ran towards him and sat before
him. The Sannyasi asked what <span class=GramE>was the matter</span>. He
answered that there was to be a fight with British soldiers, our Bengali boys
had to be protected, <span class=GramE>they</span> must win. The Sannyasi
enquired whether they had guns and cannon and what <span class=GramE>was the
strength of the enemy</span>. He was answered that it was not that kind of
battle – it was a football game. The Sannyasi shook his head and sent him away.</p>

<p class=MsoNormal style='text-align:justify;text-indent:12.2pt;line-height:
150%;mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none;
border:medium none;mso-border-bottom-alt:solid windowtext .75pt;padding:0in;
mso-padding-alt:0in 0in 15.0pt 0in; margin-top:0; margin-bottom:0'>The gentleman returned and saw that with
great effort his boys had managed a drawn game and they pulled through till
half time. Now the danger was ahead – half an hour more. He could not restrain
himself and again he rushed to the Sannyasi who was still sitting there in the
same position, and prayed and entreated him saying they were threatened with</p>

<p class=MsoNormal align=center style='text-align:center;line-height:150%;
mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none;border:medium none;
mso-border-bottom-alt:solid windowtext .75pt;padding:0in;mso-padding-alt:0in 0in 15.0pt 0in; margin-top:0; margin-bottom:0'>
<span
style='font-size:10.0pt;'>Page – 452</span></p>

<hr>

<p class=MsoNormal style='text-align:justify;line-height:150%;mso-pagination:
none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none; margin-top:0; margin-bottom:0'><span class=GramE>defeat</span>
at the hands of <span class=SpellE>Mlechchhas</span>, their <span class=SpellE>honour</span>
and prestige were at stake. The Sannyasi asked, &quot;How many killed and wounded?&quot;
The gentleman explained again it was not like that. It was a football game. The
Sannyasi asked, &quot;How many on their side?&quot; They were eleven. The
Sannyasi then asked the gentleman to get eleven bits of stone. These were
collected and placed before him. The Sannyasi arranged them in a row, and then
drew some circles around and sprinkled water and uttered something. And then he
told the gentleman to go away. He returned<span class=GramE>,</span> the game
had already started after the recess. But a strange thing he began to notice.
He saw one of the soldiers - a giant of a fellow - rushing with the ball and
nearing the goal and about to shoot into it, when suddenly he tumbled down and
rolled over and the ball went off somewhere. In fact all the mighty heroes were
behaving in a curious manner. They were running but with difficulty as if with
legs tied up. They fumbled, tottered, fell down – moved with great difficulty.
Something was restraining and impeding them, pulling them back. So the result
was a victory for the Indians by two goals. You can imagine what they did after
this miraculous victory. The gentleman manager rushed towards the tree to thank
the Sannyasi. But where was he? Nothing was there, barring the row of stones.</p>

<p class=MsoNormal align=center style='text-align:center;line-height:150%;
mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none; margin-top:0; margin-bottom:0'>(2)</p>

<p class=MsoNormal style='text-align:justify;line-height:150%;mso-pagination:
none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none; margin-top:0; margin-bottom:0'></p>

<p class=MsoNormal style='text-align:justify;text-indent:11.5pt;line-height:
150%;mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none; margin-top:0; margin-bottom:0'>I
did not go to play in Calcutta. One
of the reasons of course was that I belonged permanently to <span
  class=SpellE>Pondicherry</span> and my trips to Bengal
were more in the nature of holiday excursions and I did not want to enter into
binding commitments. For another thing, the atmosphere of Calcutta
football was one that I was not likely to cherish; we belonged to different
worlds as it were.</p>

<p class=MsoNormal style='text-align:justify;text-indent:12.45pt;line-height:
150%;mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none; margin-top:0; margin-bottom:0'>Let
me now tell you about another match, this time in Jalpaiguri. As far as I
remember, it was a Jalpaiguri Shield</p>

<p class=MsoNormal align=center style='text-align:center;line-height:150%;
mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none; margin-top:0; margin-bottom:0'>
<span
style='font-size:10.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:12.0pt;'>Page – 453</span></p>


<hr size=2 width="100%" align=center>

<p class=MsoNormal style='text-align:justify;line-height:150%;mso-pagination:
none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none; margin-top:0; margin-bottom:0'><span class=GramE>Final, <span
class=SpellE>Nilphamari</span> <i>versus </i><span class=SpellE>Purnea</span>.
Young <span class=SpellE>Samad</span>, the great <span class=SpellE>Mohun</span>
<span class=SpellE>Bagan</span> hero, was then playing for the <span
class=SpellE>Purnea</span> team and his game was already something worth
seeing. <span class=SpellE>Nilphamari</span> enjoyed a peculiar kind of
reputation – whether it was good or bad is for you to judge - they always
played a good game but they seldom managed to win. The same thing happened this
time. You will be surprised, four of us brothers were
playing on the same side on this occasion. I believe one was at the goal, another was back, the other two in the front line. Out
of these, my third brother played centre forward. He read for his Degree in Calcutta
and was a member of the junior <span class=SpellE>Mohun</span> <span
class=SpellE>Bagan</span> team. I alternated between the out and the in
positions at the wing, but he always played centre. One of the tricks I
performed on this occasion brought tremendous applause and much excitement
among our spectators. I held the ball and was planning to make a run, when one
of my opponents came and stood within less than a couple of paces in front of
me. Both of us stood perfectly still for a moment, both <span class=SpellE>manoeuvring</span>
for position. Can you guess what I did next? I drove the ball past his side,
got around him and caught it up again. The poor fellow was &quot;left behind
and completely non-<span class=SpellE>plussed</span>. What a shout of joy rose
from the crowds and what applause! I was right-out and as I passed along the
touch line, stray comments reached my ears: &quot;<span class=SpellE>Blackbeard</span>
plays very well indeed, doesn't he?&quot; &quot;Carry the ball yourself, <span
class=SpellE>blackbeard, do not pass it
on&quot; – this because my team seldom made good use of my passes. I wore a
beard in those days, you know; it was something like a French
cut. Already, some of my friends had launched a campaign against my beard.
&quot;That is now wholly out of date in Bengal,&quot;
they would say. &quot;Shave it off, throw it away.&quot; One of them even went
to the extent of making me a present of a shaving set. Finally, there was no
other go for me but to follow the maxim, &quot;Eat to please yourself,
but you must please others in what you wear.&quot; But Sri Aurobindo did not
much appreciate my</span></span></p>

<p class=MsoNormal align=center style='text-align:center;line-height:150%;
mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none; margin-top:0; margin-bottom:0'>
<span
style='font-size:10.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:12.0pt;'>Page – 454</span></p>


<hr size=2 width="100%" align=center>

<p class=MsoNormal style='text-align:justify;line-height:150%;mso-pagination:
none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none; margin-top:0; margin-bottom:0'><span class=GramE>beardless</span>
face; he seemed to prefer us to wear a moustache and beard, at least in those
days.</p>

<p class=MsoNormal style='text-align:justify;text-indent:10.3pt;line-height:
150%;mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none; margin-top:0; margin-bottom:0'>I
shall end this story of football with an account of my last performance in this
line. By then I had practically given up and was on the &quot;retired
list&quot;. I began as an ordinary player, <span class=GramE>then</span> I was
captain for a year, an Inspector of Games (in our club) for another year, and
finally a retired man. I never played in matches any longer. The juniors now
took our places. I would however pay an occasional visit and play just a
little. They once held a six-a-side competition. The final was between our
team, '<span class=SpellE>Cercle</span> <span class=SpellE>Sportif</span>' of <span
  class=SpellE>Pondicherry</span>, and the Missionaries'
team, '<span class=SpellE>Société</span> <span class=SpellE>Ie</span> <span
class=SpellE>Nid</span>'. For a long time, the two teams had been keen rivals.
The Missionaries never liked us, as you know, and their supporters naturally
took their side. The boys of the '<span class=SpellE>Cercle</span> <span
class=SpellE>Sportif</span>' were the enlightened, nationalist element in the
local population. Now, the play began. One of the conditions of the match, laid
down in advance, was that if any of the players on either side were to get
disabled in the course of the game, he could be replaced by another. The <span
class=SpellE>Sportif</span> boys had arranged among themselves that in case the
game did not go well and they found themselves giving way, they would get
someone &quot;disabled&quot; and take me in, as a substitute. That is what
happened in fact. Our team lost a goal and immediately afterwards one of our
boys – h e was later the <span class=SpellE>Hon'ble</span> Mr. Justice Antoine <span
class=SpellE>Tamby</span>, now in retirement – sat down with a thump. He said
he had got hurt and could not play any more. So they shouted for me. &quot;Roy,
where is Roy?&quot; I was &quot;Roy&quot;
and ready at hand. I entered the field, with my red and white uniform, the <span
class=SpellE>Mohun</span> <span class=SpellE>Bagan</span> <span class=SpellE>colours</span>. 
I changed immediately the whole tactics of the game. What our boys had been 
doing was to cluster close around the ball for purposes of short passing – all 
the three or four out of the six were doing that. There was to be a centre kick 
following the goal. I stood with the ball at the centre and told the two boys on 
my right and on my left to keep as far away as pos<span class=SpellE><span
class=GramE>sible</span> </span></p>

<p class=MsoNormal align=center style='text-align:center;line-height:150%;
mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none; margin-top:0; margin-bottom:0'>
<span
style='font-size:10.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:12.0pt;'>Page – 455</span></p>


<hr size=2 width="100%" align=center>

<p class=MsoNormal style='text-align:justify;mso-line-height-alt:8.15pt;
mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none; line-height:150%; margin-top:0; margin-bottom:0'>
<span class=SpellE>from the centre and to go on making long
passes. I sent the ball from the centre straight to the right wing. Our outside
man was ready. He took the ball and passed it back to me at the centre. I was
already far ahead, almost beyond the half-back. As soon as the goalkeeper saw
me rushing with the ball towards the goal, he lost his nerve: &quot;Oh, Roy
coming!&quot; It was an easy score. What an excitement among our boys, what
uproarious hurrahs! We won by two goals in the end and the cup was ours. After
the game was over, how they danced with me on their shoulders! Moni led the boys. He too, like me, had given up playing,
and was on the retired list, acting only as a spectator. Moni
was so pleased with this performance of mine that he took me straightway to a
nearby hotel or bar. There was no Ganpatram in those
days, alas!</span></p>

<p class=MsoNormal style='text-align:justify;text-indent:11.5pt;line-height:
150%;mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none; margin-top:0; margin-bottom:0'>Let
me conclude this narrative with a few incidental remarks, some reflections
concerning &quot;style&quot; in games. In my native town in Bengal
I had a friend who played tennis. Once I made this comment on seeing him play,
&quot;There is no grammar about his play.&quot; My dictum became a classic
among our sporting circles. He used to play in what may be described as a
&quot;hit and miss&quot; style. Not that he broke any of the rules of the game,
but there was about his manner something loose' and slovenly; he had no style
or system. But often enough he hacked his way to victory by sheer force of
vital energy. Bejoy and our Benjamin with his leech like grip – they were the
two half-backs in our team followed exactly the same method. In fact, there
are two essentials to a good game: grammar and style, or grammar and rhythm, to
use the terms of ancient rhetoric. In our time, grammar was no doubt important
in school, but we were never to be bothered by any such bugbear in the field of
sports, at least as far as our country was concerned. In those days, men became
champions through sheer genius, that is, by virtue of an innate skill. Without
any systematic training or practice on scientific lines, they developed a skill</p>

<p class=MsoNormal align=center style='text-align:center;line-height:150%;
mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none; margin-top:0; margin-bottom:0'>
<span
style='font-size:10.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:12.0pt;'>Page – 456</span></p>


<hr size=2 width="100%" align=center>

<p class=MsoNormal style='text-align:justify;line-height:150%;mso-pagination:
none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none; margin-top:0; margin-bottom:0'><span class=GramE>in</span>
the game through an inner urge or influence. Perhaps all men of genius are
creatures of this type. They say this about Napoleon too. He went on winning
his victories without end and no one could stop his onward march. The old
experienced generals of the enemy Powers, the Austrians for example, practically
gave up trying. On being <span lang=EN-GB style='mso-ansi-language:EN-GB'>criticised</span>
for their failure, they said, &quot;But what on earth can we do? The fellow
does not observe any of the principles of warfare. How can one fight under such
conditions? He breaks every rule of battle.&quot; But today we are in an age
where not untrained skill but close mastery of detail and unfailing practice
are the things that count. Here in the Ashram, through your games and physical
exercises, you are being trained to make every posture and movement of all the
parts of your body orderly, precise and disciplined. You <span lang=EN-GB
style='mso-ansi-language:EN-GB'>practise</span> day after day, month after
month, for years on end. We in our days had no knowledge of any such <span
class=GramE>thing,</span> we were utterly ignorant and. illiterate in this
regard. The time has now come when man <span class=GramE>has</span> to make his
advance by conscious method, not drag his feet along somehow in a blind
ignorant way, nor rest satisfied with what comes automatically. <span
style='mso-bidi-font-weight:bold'>In<b> </b></span>our country, in ancient
times at least, grammar was considered important in two fields: in the study of
language and in the art of Yoga. The rules were extremely strict and there was
no end of manuals and glosses. But in our ordinary life, in the art of
day-to-day living, there grew up an enormous amount of slackness and
indiscipline, at least during the more recent times.</p>

<p class=MsoNormal style='text-align:justify;text-indent:11.75pt;line-height:
150%;mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none; margin-top:0; margin-bottom:0'>I
have just now spoken of two things, grammar and rhythm; style is mainly a
matter of rhythm but it presumes grammar, for you cannot have a good style
without taking note of grammar. Grammar is like the! <span class=GramE>skeleton</span>
and bony structure in a man's body; without that support and foundation, the
body becomes limp like a mass of flesh. By grammar I mean the right arrangement
of the different limbs. Whether it be tennis or cricket or any other game, or
even <span class=SpellE>ordi</span>nary </p>

<p class=MsoNormal align=center style='text-align:center;line-height:150%;
mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none; margin-top:0; margin-bottom:0'>
<span
style='font-size:10.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:12.0pt;'>Page – 457</span></p>

<hr size=2 width="100%" align=center>

<p class=MsoNormal style='text-align:justify;line-height:150%;mso-pagination:
none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none; margin-top:0; margin-bottom:0'>jumping and running,
one must know in minute detail and apply in practice the knowledge as to how
the arms and the chest and the back and abdomen are to be held, in what
position the legs should be, down to the smallest fingers and toes. And it is
not enough that you control the separate movements of the different parts of
the body, you have to combine all these movements into a single harmonious
whole and give them a fine well-formed and one-pointed rhythm. This last quality
is what <span lang=EN-GB style='mso-ansi-language:EN-GB'>characterises</span>
rhythm or style. It' is said that the style is the man. It is really something
that belongs to the inner man; in a game, it is a quality of the inner
body-consciousness. It needs a harmony between the consciousness of the body
and the inner vital <span class=GramE>being,</span> it implies a natural sense
of measure and rhythm. - In our days, we did not know anything of all this. We
did have the gift of imagination and feeling, but now is the day of science.
You have the great good fortune that you can now acquire both these gifts,
effect between the two a supreme synthesis and harmony and arrive at a higher
fulfilment.</p>

<p class=MsoNormal align=center style='text-align:center;line-height:150%;
mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none; margin-top:0; margin-bottom:0'>
<span
style='font-size:10.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:12.0pt;'>Page – 458</span></p>


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