A humble tribute to A Brilliant Athlete, All-rounder and The Inimitable Head Boy!

A young lad runs in, cleverly uses his height and shoulders to generate some pace. The ball falls on its seam and bounces higher. The bowler gives a wry smile, clenches his teeth with disappointment, bite his lips, swirls his neck, turns and walks slowly back to his bowling march.
Except for his athleticism, there was nothing classical in his bowling action yet there was something magnetic that kept you glued to him. There was a unique style and something, incredulously infectious about his attitude. Perhaps what differentiated him from the other players was his intensity of focus and determination.

Every afternoon this boy would stand near the school stage. Soon he would be surrounded by other students. These older boys talked incessantly, poked fun at others and giggled a lot. There was a spring in his step, certain deftness in his mannerism and he often spoke with a self assured tone.

Perhaps no other student in St John High School, Goregaon, received so much admiration, adulation and even respect from all, including teachers and his own batch mates. I am talking of a handsome, tall, medium built lad who sometimes played cricket with his school friends in my colony.

That day the batsman who evaded the bouncer was Anil from Shastri Nagar and the handsome bowler who was disappointed with the extra bounce – Farhat Siddiqi.

Farhat resembled my childhood heroes Sunil Gavaskar, Ian Botham, John McEnroe, Vivian Richards and few other great sportsmen - in the way he remained a human being, keeping his sport as merely part of his life so that it did not arrest his development or even reduced his responsibilities as an adult.

Once I saw Farhat boxing with his friends and later hitting hard at the punching bag. Reza Sir, the school coach was yelling at him and pushing the bag with force in his direction. Farhat jumped and moved aside. Next moment the bag hit him hard on his face. Farhat looked tired but he continued punching at the bag. There was an amazing chemistry between Reza Sir and Farhat. Perhaps Reza Sir considered Farhat as his son and it was evident, Farhat immensely worshipped him.

Reza Sir and I guess the entire school had lot of expectations from Farhat and young Farhat did live upto those expectations. Almost every afternoon, Farhat diligently practiced boxing for hours in the school compound. Self absorption is often detected in those blessed with exceptional talent. I suspect Farhat craved for the freedom of his youth and bravely followed his whims.

One fine day, my mother picked me early from school. On my way back, I saw Farhat and few other boys packing their boxing kit. Like any other kid in school, I screamed “Farhat”, “Farhat”…he looked at me and smiled back.

Mom told me that her school has organized an inter school boxing tournament and wanted me to accompany her. By the time we reached Dahisar it was already past 6: 30 p.m. Mom got busy with the organizing committee and requested some of her students and a peon to keep an eye on me. With a bottle of gold spot in hand, I went around the school building where all participants were getting ready. Soon I saw a familiar figure.

Farhat was standing under an electric bulb. I ran towards him. His face and shoulders glowed in that bright light. Farhat was wearing a red nylon shorts and sparkling white singlet (baniyan). Reza Sir with thick moustache and a young Louis D’Mello sir were standing next to him. The other team members were warming up. I went closer, shouting, “St John’s,”…. “St Johns”,… “Hip, Hip, Hurray”…Farhat and everybody around were puzzled and looked down…probably glad and definitely bewildered to see a lone supporter… They didn’t speak much …just said …. “Watch the match and keep shouting!”…

A tall, well lit, huge boxing ring stood in the center. The ring was separated by a thick rope. Only the officials and participants could enter inside these ropes. The sofas for dignitaries were kept close to the rope. There were more than 200 people including many students seated on wooden chairs around.

One of our school alumni lost the match. I was annoyed and started sulking. In few minutes, Farhat entered the ring. Whenever Gavaskar got out early, the Indian team would wrap up; and the same logic applied in case of Farhat and our boxing team.

Farhat’s opponent was slightly taller and equally strong. I remember Farhat was lagging in the first round and the scores were tied in the second round.

The second round was over and Farhat sat in one corner….there was pain on his face and it had almost turned red. Reza Sir rushed inside the ring with a towel, ice and a water bottle…. He later massaged Farhat’s arms and shoulders. I ran around the corner and stood watching Farhat and Reza Sir…Reza Sir was whispering something in Farhat’s ears…. Later, I could hear Reza Sir screaming … “Look at his eyes”…. “Keep looking at his eyes” ….and “use your left hand”… “Left hand”…

The bell rings…..Reza Sir was out of the ring…Farhat and the other boxer came together…the audience was loudly supporting Farhat’s opponent…the referee in the ring announced ‘Box’….

Soon both the boxers were ready…this was the final round….Farhat looked tired….but was determined…..the boxers came close….Farhat ducked…both of them hit at each other…they took blows on shoulders, in stomach….every time Farhat tried to attack, his opponent would cleverly cover his face, and somehow catch Farhat’s neck and embrace him…In that deadlock, both of them would try and hit at each others back…The referee again intervened…scolded Farhat and his opponent… and separated them…

In the next minute, Farhats opponent steps forward, and swung his left arm….and hit Farhat with few quick blows ….Farhat somehow managed to get out of that onslaught… moved behind…started breathing heavily…. ….

In the next moment, even before you could have blinked your eyes, Farhat stepped forward…..the opponent realized …and tried to jab with his left arm ….Farhat blocked…..now Farhat jabbed with his left arm…. The opponent blocked with his right arm … the opponent tried to hit Farhat with his left arm….Farhat quickly ducked…and THUD !!!….Farhat had hit a powerful left under cut….and before his opponent could realize, Farhat started treating his opponent as a punching bag !….

Farhat seized the moment and began assaulting right, left, right, left, right and WHAM !!! …at his opponent’s left ear….in those days …the boxers never wore a head guard… ….suddenly there was silence around….the other boxers from our school shouted, “Keep hitting Farhat”, “Come on Farhat”, “Farhat”……

His opponent was confused, tried to break free and soon another loud THUD !! on the chin…Farhat had hit again with his left hand …his opponent almost lost his balance….

Farhat was quick, hopped in the ring, almost jumped in air and stood on his toes and gave another right, left, right…..The referee rushed in ….It seemed Farhat didn’t want to stop….the referee asked Farhat to move to another corner…the referee started counting …1,2,3,…and before he had reached ‘6’…the other boxer conceded the match ….The referee in white clothing raised Farhat’s hand….the spectators begin clapping loudly…..My hero had won a tough bout….

The next day I happily shared this incident with my friends in class…

It was a proud moment for all when Farhat shared the ring with the legendary Muhammad Ali during his visit to Bombay. I remember watching Farhat on TV. I ran around my building telling everybody about Farhat and his match with Muhammad Ali.

Despite appearing on national television and in newspapers next day, Farhat never seem to relish the spotlight nor tried to avoid it, but simply accepted it and adjusted his life accordingly. As a Head boy, he probably set a tough benchmark in sports and academics and perhaps even for his younger siblings. Sometimes I feel the Siddiqi living room must have been converted into a make shift boxing ring with younger siblings - Arshaad and Zubair getting lessons from Farhat and reckon Asma must have been the referee.

Farhat was capable of extraordinary capabilities and yet it was boxing that seemed to be his ultimate passion. I knew that someday Farhat would represent our country in sports…He eventually did….and at a greatest level…By joining the air force he must have fought many battles - much tougher than those boxing bouts. He became a martyr during the Kargil War. Unfortunately I never got a chance to talk to him …Alas … never will…

Farhat finished school and left a grand legacy behind. I saw him only once …he looked different and guess sported a thick moustache. In someway Farhat influenced me and I am glad that he had been part of my growing years.

Perhaps this is the only way I can salute and express my tribute to Farhat, who personified the school emblem – Brave and Truth….

May his soul rest in peace!