By ALOK JOSHI
They say you shouldn’t meet your heroes, but what happens when your hero is a boy you grew up with, competed against, and faced across the cricket pitch?”
Recently, I got the unforgettable chance to meet the cricketing legend Kapil Dev at an intimate dinner party organised by the amazing host, Parinita Ahluwalia, right here in Dehradun. To be completely honest, I had practically engineered my invitation through my great friend for one sole purpose: to see him in person after decades and relive those cherished childhood memories.
For a brief evening, amid the polite dinner chatter and music, the years rolled back. I wasn’t just a guest at a table, and he wasn’t just the legendary captain who lifted the 1983 World Cup at Lord’s. We were simply two boys from Chandigarh again, chasing a leather ball under the fierce northern sun.
Cricketing Rivalries in Sector 16
Growing up in Chandigarh, cricket wasn’t just a game; it was the air we breathed. Kapil represented DAV School, while I proudly donned the colours of Government Senior Model School as a left-arm spinner. We lived for those matches, and inevitably, our schools would battle it out in the finals for the coveted Inter-School Cricket Champions Trophy.
Today, cricket pundits pay fortunes to analyse Kapil’s bowling action. Back then, I analysed it from the batsman’s crease—with a healthy dose of trepidation. In fact, I say it rather proudly now that Kapil once deceived me into chipping an easy catch—a badge of absolute pride for me today, considering how fiercely unpredictable his deliveries were to a schoolboy batsman.
We shared more than just a competitive rivalry; we shared the same mentor. Both of us learned from the late, legendary coach Mr DP Azad, who ran his famous cricket academy in Sector 16. Even outside of formal practice, Kapil’s obsession with the game was unmatched. A classmate of mine lived on the very same street as Kapil in Sector 16, and I still vividly remember watching him throw ball after ball, sweating it out at the boundary of his home long after the sun had gone down.
The Leather Jacket and the Sensation
After school, our paths crossed again when we both joined DAV College, Chandigarh. It was there that our trajectories shifted; I left cricket to focus on academics, while Kapil stayed fiercely wedded to his passion. He began his first-class career for the home state of Haryana at the tender age of 16, earning the moniker that would define an era: the “Haryana Hurricane”.
By the time he made his Test and ODI debut against Pakistan in 1978, he was a rising national sensation. I still remember him roaring into the university campus on his brand-new motorcycle, clad in a leather jacket. While, after four years of the then boys-only college, we were still figuring out how to impress the abounding young beauties, he parked his bike with a swag as the girls quite literally swooned at the sight of him. Yet, despite his meteoric rise, he never forgot his roots. I remember the immense pride we all felt when he returned to our campus as the Chief Guest for the DAV College annual sports day—a local boy conquering the world, but still home to celebrate with his peers in all his trade mark humility.
The Geometry of Destiny
The rest, as they say, is history. In 1983, he created history by leading a fiercely underestimated Indian side to the finals at Lord’s, famously upsetting the reigning champions, the West Indies, to claim the nation’s maiden World Cup.
Sitting across from him at the dinner in Dehradun, watching the same easy warmth in his eyes, I couldn’t help but reflect on how destiny works. Sometimes we wonder how life grants such a meteoric rise to certain individuals. But looking back at those hot afternoons in Sector 16, the answer is clear: Kapil is someone who never strayed from his passion. Behind the natural talent was a mountain of tremendous, persistent hard work and an unyielding dedication.
Meeting him wasn’t just a chance to rewind the clock; it was a profound reminder that legends aren’t born overnight on international pitches. They are forged in the dust of school grounds, under the watchful eyes of strict coaches, and in the heart of a boy who simply refused to stop bowling. Sitting next to him all these years later, it is clear that while the pitches have changed, the spirit of the ‘Haryana Hurricane’ remains entirely untouched. I think childhood bonds and shared cricket pitches are never truly left behind.
Pics: Satpal Gandhi
(Alok Joshi is a Dehradun-based management professional, corporate trainer, interview coach, image consultant, motivational speaker, author of three bestselling books and a freelance writer. He has a multi-cultural background and has worked in top management positions in global companies across many countries including India, Sudan, Middle East and China.)
