Banarasi babu Shahid loved to be called ‘chhora Ganga kinare wala’

Sabi Hussain in New Delhi

Had I not been born in Banaras, I wouldn’t have been the same Mohammed Shahid.” These were the words of the hockey legend to his two kids, who would repeatedly question him why he never left the ‘city of ghats.’ Shahid was one of the best dribblers in the world. He passed away in Delhi recently following multiple-organ failure.

Shahid had a world of opportunities waiting for him following his retirement from the Indian hockey after the 1988 Seoul Olympics. But he chose to confine himself in the narrow lanes and chaotic ghats of the Ganga. He would love to be called ‘Banarasi babu’ by his Indian teammates, a famous term coined out of love and affection for the residents of the city. He took pride in it and would often encourage his friends in the hockey circle to refer to him as ‘chhora ganga kinare wala’ (also a song immortalized by Kishore Kumar in Hindi movie Don).

The thought of leaving his city of birth never crossed Shahid’s mind, even once. Apart from his deep affection for the city’s hustle and bustle, two main reasons why Shahid stayed put in Varanasi was his ailing mother Habiban Bibi, who died six years back, and the death of his one-year-old daughter, Lubna. 

“He was very close to his mother. He never wanted to leave her. Even during his playing days, the first thing my father would do after returning from his hockey assignments was to sit with my grandmother and discuss what all she did while he was away. They would sit for hours in her room and discuss the family matters, apart from the routine talk. My father told me that his mother made a lot of sacrifices for him and that he would never leave her, come what may,” Shahid’s only son, Mohammed Saif told The Tribune.

“After she passed away, it seemed like the whole world had come crashing down. He restricted his outside movement and would spend most of his time in the office. In the evening, however, he would go for his daily walk to catch up with his old friends,” Saif said.

“When my father had retired from the game, my elder sister Lubna passed away. Her death left him completely devastated. He told us that Lubna died because he wasn’t around. He said he would never leave Varanasi,” said Saif.

Shahid had been suffering from liver and kidney problems for quite some time and had been on medicines. But, what further deteriorated his condition was the sudden death of his sister two months back, along with a bout of jaundice and dengue. “That was a big jolt. He was very close to her sister as well. Her death broke him from inside. Thereafter, his health condition only got worse,” Saif said.

Shahid’s end was tragic, but his life during his playing days and after retirement was exciting and fun-filled. And, it was largely because of ‘Banaras’, with all its dust, traffic congestion, over-crowded lanes and mohallas and pyres floating around in the river. There is something magical about the city which will make you fall in love with the place, and the same love had stricken Shahid.

Just like he would dribble his way past the opponent’s defence to score a goal during his heydays, Shahid would walk past, double quick, the unending lanes leading up to his home in Khajuri area. Like his mastery over the ball, he had mastered the confusing bylanes of Banaras. This could well have been one reason why he could so perfectly dribble his way to the goalpost without offering his opponents any chance to react.

“He had a coaching offer from the Indian Hockey Federation (IHF) to coach the senior national side, but he never accepted the offer. The coaching offer came his way many times at regular intervals from the IHF, but he never seemed interested. It wasn’t like he had become disillusioned, but he did not want to leave the city. Many times I would ask him ‘why aren’t you saying yes?’ He would nonchalantly say, ‘jeena yaha, marna yaha, iske siwa jaana kaha’ (famous lines from a Raj Kapoor song),” Saif said.

“He was employed with the Railways, but he never sought promotion because then he had to leave the city. He was happy with his Class 1 officer job because that way he remained in the city. He was a very simple and grounded person without any greed for name and fame,” he added. How much Varanasi loved its hockey hero could be gauged from the fact that thousands of city residents attended his final dribble to the Taktakpur graveyard.