Football in the pind

At Phagwara station, we virtually dragged ourselves out of the train. The rush was amazing. It was a Saturday and most Delhiites hop onto this particular train to head towards Golden Temple in Amritsar. But unlike our co-passengers, we got off at Phagwara. Travelling with a group of young footballers, we wanted to touch the pind (village) where football is next to religion.

We have so far heard about football cultures and traditions of Calcutta, Goa and Kerala. But Punjab seemed to be very different. As the bus weaved past the vast agricultural lands on our way from Phagwara station to Rurka (some 15 kms from Phagwara), we were thrilled. It was April end. Yet, the heat was tolerable.

A village in the Tehsil Phillaur in Jalandhar, Rurka is entirely different. It is a quiet, serene and a sleepy village. Other neighbouring villages include Bundala, Kahna Dhesian, Dhinpur, Bir Bansian and Pasla. In fact, Hans Raj Hans song 'Pind Diyan Galliyan' becomes so much true as the bus moved a little deeper into the rural village Rurka Kalan which lies on the Jandiala-Goraya road.

A youth football academy in a village? That sounds quite interesting. But before I write about the academy, let me introduce you to Gurmangal Dass Soni. Soft-spoken and affable, Gurmangal, however, isn't a former footballer or a coach who talks big about his past achievements. Neither he is a referee or anybody in the football establishment 'talking, talking but doing nothing'.
Interestingly, he is an electronic engineer who is crazy about football. In 1998, this young man now in his late-30s decided to create a football platform so that he can help and promote his own village kids. He left a cushy engineering job in the US and engaged himself to work round the clock for football, selflessly. Another interesting and honest fact about Gurmangal, he doesn't draw salary from this project which has 14 paid staffs for the 125 players and the annual expense has shot up to Rs 24 lakhs per year.

He formed the Youth Football Club in 1997 which soon got involved in a big way in football promotion at Rurka Kalan. With the help of local villagers and NRIs, he got a great amount of monetary support to run the project. With around 15-20 footballers, Gurmangal started his team, took part in tournaments and even started winning them. The cash awards won from the tournaments were deposited in a bank and soon he was able to collect Rs 80,000 from the prize money. His own family also extended support. They chipped in with Rs 1 lakh per year. The villagers also joined them in his effort to promote the game at the grassroot level.

The YFC has produced six international players from the current Anwar Ali (India and Dempo) to Surjit Singh Sandhu, Narinder Kumar Kaushal, Narinder Kumar Gill, Kulwant Singh and Baljinder Singh. Today the club boasts of a Youth and Sports Complex, which houses a hostel for 24 players, a computer laboratory, a multi-purpose gymnasium and well-manicured ground. Besides, YFC and the academy has also tied up with two schools where the students are given free education.

At present, the academy has 125 players in the U-12, U-14, U-17, U-19 and senior club categories. All the trainees are provided free boarding and lodging, kit and education. The Sports Department is bearing the expenses of the 15 students. The club has roped in four coaches -– Jatinder Sharma, Amarjit Dari, a former JCT player, and Kulwant Bunty, a former international player, and Mandeep Kumar of the Sports Department.

RIP Kallu Mian

Nahari

I was sad to hear the death of Mohammed Rafiquddin, 60, legendary nahariwala, who was popularly known as Kallu Mian in Old Delhi.

I had tried nahari at several pockets of Old Delhi including Bada Hindu Rao and Quraishnagar, but I was convinced none could beat the taste that’s available at Kallu’s.

Nahari involves slow-cooked meat along with bone marrow and garnished to taste and was first developed during the Mughal Empire.

I was introduced to the dish by some Walled City football fans. I was also told ‘a plate of hot and spicy nahari can give you relief from the biting Dilli ki Sardi’, which, in fact, turned out to be so true after those visits at Kallu's. 

It became a daily routine to walk down to the eatery at No. 80, Chattan Lal Mian behind Delite Cinema along with my elderly friends after covering the Vijayans and Okories at the Durand Cups, DCM Trophys and I-Leagues, held during the Capital's coldest months.

Kallu smoked bidis and, very occasionally cigarettes. After several visits, I found him to be very punctual as he would remove the lid from the huge copper degh (pot) at 5pm. The rush was inevitable because of the huge demand and the stock would be over in flat one hour.

Most of his customers were from daily walks of life which also included officials from Old Delhi’s two famous football teams — City Club and Indian Nationals.

In those eras, these clubs had fierce rivalries on the field just like East Bengal and Mohun Bagan in Calcutta, but one thing I couldn’t ask him if he was a City or Nationals fan. 

“Kya kar reea hai. Sahab logon ka jagah de (give space to these gentlemen),” Kallu shouted instructions in his old Delhi dialect.

We were lucky to find a tiny space inside the shop. Sitting at arm’s length to the tandoor (oven) and next to the bread-maker, the forehead glistened with sweat, but the warmth was a protective cover to the freezing January winter.

Kallu, who had a thin physique, guarded the oval-shaped degh, but he would only instruct his boys on how to scoop the thickest portion from the pot as it involved some kind of technique.

The nahari arrived, glistening in a pool of oil. The roti was fresh off the tandoor and the extra plate of lime wedges, chopped chillies and slivered ginger completed the meal. The boneless mutton nahari was supple and succulent while the meat chunks already parted from the bones.

Thanks to Kallu Mian and football, I was introduced to the mouth-watering dish.