Bishan Singh Bedi obituary: A warm, strong personality of many hues

“There have been few greater pleasures in the modern game than watching Bishan Bedi bowl. Full of Eastern guile and artistry, his gentle approach to the wicket and graceful movement of the arm cunningly concealed the aggression in his bowling,” thus read the description in the Lord’s Taverners Fifty Greatest: The 50 Greatest Post-War Cricketers from Around the World, the glaze papered gorgeous coffee table book.

Selected by a galaxy of legendary cricketers/writers, namely Trevor Bailey, Richie Benaud, Colin Cowdrey, and Jim Laker, at the bottom of Bedi’s profile page, Laker, the legendary England off-spinner, wrote: “My dream match would be to see Bishan Bedi at one end and Ray Lindwall at the other.”

Alas, that was not to be. Australian Lindwall, one of the greatest fast bowlers, died in 1996 and Bedi passed away on October 23, 2023, aged 77, in New Delhi. The tribute by Lord’s Taverners is a testimony of the esteem in which the global cricketing fraternity revered and admired Bedi, a world-class spinner, perhaps the best left-arm ever graced a cricket field.

With a ball in hand, Bedi was clever with flight and deception, which brought the fall of batsmen across the globe. Much has been written about his silky-smooth run-up to the wicket to bowl. Had boxing legend Muhammad Ali seen Bedi bowl, he would have probably said the same for the “Sardar of Spin” what was said about himself: “Float like a butterfly, sting like a bee.”

With Bedi’s passing away, Indian cricket has lost its backbone, in every which way one looks at it. He was an athlete of high stature, knew how to engage you in a conversation (and dominate it, either one-to-one or in a group of hundred people), was a brilliant storyteller, and would laugh out loudly, unhindered — one of his trademarks. It was because he was very confident of himself.

Global citizen

Bedi, who was born in Amritsar and had made Delhi his home, had been ailing for well over two years. He first had a heart bypass surgery in February 2021 and a few days later had another operation following the discovery of blood clotting in his brain. This resulted in dementia, but he later improved considerably, according to his wife. Bedi had since been confined to “Cricket Abode”, the name he had given to his sprawling farmhouse, which also houses peacocks and dogs, on the outskirts of Delhi. He made rare public appearances since his illness, like for his 75^th birthday celebration organised by Kapil Dev or, more recently, a marathon event in Delhi.

Bedi was a traditionalist, yet nonconformist. On the one hand, he firmly believed in the traditional and truest format of cricket — Test cricket. On the other hand, he didn’t believe in the human tribe being bound by boundaries; he donated blood in Karachi on a Cavaliers tour after reading an appeal published in a newspaper. Ironically, his India captaincy ended after losing the Test series in Pakistan on the 1978-79 tour.

Even last year, when Bedi, in a wheelchair, and his wife Anju wanted to visit Kartarpur Sahib, a holy place for Sikhs, now in Pakistan after the partition of India in 1947, his family made no secret of their meeting former Pakistan captain and friend Intikhab Alam and Shafqat Rana, another former Pakistan cricketer. Bedi got along famously with Alam and Rana, also because they all came from the undivided Punjab state and spoke the same language, Punjabi.

Not just the Pakistanis, Bedi was close to and in regular touch with his contemporaries from other countries as well, to name a few, West Indies legend Sir Garfield Sobers, the great Michael Holding, and Australian Ian Chappell. When Bedi fell ill, they all got in touch with his family and inquired after his health.

Before he was laid low by illness, Bedi was quite vociferous on social media, too. On X (Twitter), 90,635 people followed him while he followed 6,175. His last tweet came at 8.21 am on October 6 last year, simply saying: “Good morning all!!!” It attracted 184 comments, 58 retweets, and 1,091 likes. That tweet was made one year and eight months ago.

Strong personality

Bedi was outspoken, and would not hesitate to speak his mind on various issues, even if it meant antagonising the powers-that-be. That was a reason he was never in the good books of either the Delhi and District Cricket Association (DDCA) or the Board of Control for Cricket in India (BCCI), as he often rubbed their officials the wrong way. Although the DDCA belatedly named a stand at the Ferozeshah Kotla Stadium after him a few years ago, he asked them to remove his name when the association decided to install former DDCA president Arun Jaitley’s life-size statue by his son (and current DDCA president) Rohan. Bedi threatened Rohan to initiate legal action if his (Bedi’s name) was not removed. But soon after that he fell ill.

The BCCI also denied his due for long, and his immense contribution to Indian cricket was finally recognised for the BCCI’s top annual accolade, the CK Nayudu Lifetime Achievement Award, in 2004. Earlier, the government of India had recognised Bedi’s contribution by bestowing on him the Arjuna Award in 1969 and the Padma Shree in 1970.

However, Bedi was never picked among the Five Cricketers of The Year, a prestigious selection and a prominent feature of the annual Wisden Almanack, the most revered and oldest cricket publication. During his tours to England with the Indian team or during his playing days for Northamptonshire in the English county competitions, from 1972 to 1977, he somehow couldn’t make it to the Wisden’s five. In those days, cricketers who would perform exceedingly well only during the English season were picked for this honour. Now, the criteria have changed.

However, in its 2008 edition, the Wisden Almanack recognised Bedi’s contribution, along with that of four others — leg-spinner Abdul Qadir of Pakistan, West Indies fast bowler Wes Hall, Pakistani batsman Inzamam-ul-Haq, and Australian fast bowler Jeff Thomson — writing about the “five who somehow missed out”. Former England batsman Mike Brearley wrote the touching appreciation piece on Bedi.

If Bedi had a shortcoming in his personality, it was said to be his strong likes and dislikes. Brearley also didn’t miss this aspect. “Tony Lewis, who captained England in 1972/73, said he was a Dennis Lillee among slow bowlers. If he liked you, he would be extremely friendly (I greeted him with a ‘namaste’ — the Indian greeting with hands together — when I came in to bat at Lord’s, and he enjoyed that). But if he took against you, he could be a fierce antagonist,” he wrote in his piece.

The Indian spin trio/quartet

Bedi was a part of the famous Indian spin trio, and the spin quartet. With Erapalli Prasanna and Bhagwat Chandrasekhar he constituted the trio, and when S Venkataraghavan joined them, it became a quartet. Bedi, the youngest of the lot, was different from all three as he bowled left arm while Prasanna and Venkataraghavan were off-spinners. Chandrasekhar was the leg-spinner who bowled an assortment of deliveries. Together, they spun India to famous victories, before the advent of speedsters Kapil Dev and Karsan Ghavri.

Bedi also exhibited his wares abroad, for Northamptonshire in the English county competitions, from 1972 to 1977. In all, Bedi bagged 1,560 wickets in first-class matches. This included 434 for Northamptonshire, helping them to win the Gillette Cup in 1976. And his 266 wickets in 67 Test matches remained an India record for a long time.

In Ranji Trophy and other national tournaments, Bedi represented Northern Punjab from 1961/62 to 1966/67, before turning out for Delhi (1968/69–1980/81). He completely transformed the attitude of the Delhi team and captained them to successive Ranji Trophy triumphs, in 1978–79 and 1979–80. It was the first time Delhi had won the national title.

The last meeting

My visit to Bedi’s farmhouse in March 2021 has turned out to be my last meeting with “Bedi paaji”, as we all respectfully addressed him. He was in a wheelchair and the usually chirpy “paaji” was unusually quiet that day. He shouted “catch it, catch it” only when his granddaughter (daughter of his daughter Neha) played with coloured rubber balls in the back of his vast abode. This brought a smile to his face. His eyes clearly conveyed to me that he wanted to say a lot, but the illness prevented him from doing so.

It was the longest meeting I have had with “paaji” in our 30-year association, but it was also the quietest ever. While he sat quietly in his wheelchair, I chatted with his hospitable wife Anju, daughter Neha, and her husband Gautam. Bedi, however, didn’t forget to ask Neha to make a cup of tea for me.

When I sent that piece, written on my visit to his farmhouse, to his good friend Erapalli Prasanna, he replied to me saying: “Keep visiting Bishan. He is our treasure.” Alas, it turned out to be my last meeting with “paaji” whom I admired from the heart.

(The writer has covered cricket for over three decades, based in New Delhi. He tweets at @AlwaysCricket)