Farewell to Fazal
By Mowahid Shah

 

Fazal Mahmood leading the Pakistan team into the pavilion after helping his team beat England in the Oval Test in August 1954 © Getty Image

 

Many years ago, a movie, “My Favorite Year” was released, starring Hollywood great Peter O’ Toole. 1954 was the year depicted in the movie. 1954, too, resonates in the imagination of many a Pakistani as a favorite year. It was when Pakistan came of age globally on and beyond the boundary of a cricket field. The man responsible was none other than the debonair blue-eyed policeman Fazal Mahmood who put the might of England – arguably its greatest 20th century side – on the mat. He had the ability to run through a batting line-up – a quality lacking in current Pakistani bowlers.
Fifty years ago, it was Fazal who was emblematic of the hopes of the young nation and symbolized its youthful determination and defiance. In 2005, 50 years later, on a pleasantly sunny last day of May, a funeral procession carried Fazal on his last journey through the streets of Lahore where he had been born, bred, and much loved. The mourners were mercifully bereft of the darbari who, to score points, flock to sirkari funerals.
Fazal’s matinee idol charisma during the 1950’s impelled the great Indian movie director Mehboob to offer him a role opposite screen legend Dilip Kumar in the blockbuster ‘Aan’. Despite being constantly mobbed by a legion of female admirers, Fazal, paradoxically, led a remarkably chaste life.
Such was Fazal’s confidence in his own ability that he was never deterred by the huge reputation of his great opponents like Hutton, Compton, May, Graveney, Harvey, Miller, Hazare, Amarnath, Walcott, Weekes, Sobers and Kanhai. His will to win was contagious, spurring Pakistan to a sequence of remarkable wins against India, England, Australia and West Indies.
Fazal paid his dues for Pakistan. He was selected for the All-India side which toured Australia just after partition in 1947. Fazal declined, having opted for Pakistan, missing thus the historic chance to bowl to Bradman.
His great contemporary and friend of over 60 years, Imtiaz, told me that Fazal’s departure has left behind a huge void of loneliness. Ditto for those who grew up hearing on radio the inimitable voice of Omar Qureshi describing Fazal running into bowl with the expectation of flying stumps.
Kardar, Fazal, Imtiaz and Hanif formed the quartet which made Pakistan cricket. Today’s youth, which is swift to lapse into despondency and despair, would do well to ponder how those four men stood up and fought for Pakistan, often against overwhelming odds. They did not quit the fight.
Fazal, a child of the Pakistani movement, knew what Pakistan was all about. His father, Prof Ghulam Hussain, was my father’s Economics teacher at Islamia College, Lahore, which was then the hub of the Pakistan Movement. Fazal used to tell me of a visit of the Quaid to Islamia College where Quaid had exhorted the students: “Boys, this is the month of March, let’s march, let’s march”. He was similarly inspired by Iqbal and constantly quoted: “Khudi Na Bech, Ghareebi Mein Naam Paida Kar” (Make your mark through simple living without compromising self-esteem). Fazal did just that.
Fazal continued to live in an unpretentious house in Lahore’s Garhi Shahu neighborhood. His most prized possession there was a black couch gifted to his father by Allama Iqbal. A few faded photographs offered glimpses of the pre-video glory days. There was also tragedy. Some years ago, Fazal lost his eldest son to renal failure, to be followed later by the death of his son-in-law through cardiac arrest. There was a gleam in the old warrior’s eye, however, whenever he recounted the past and rolled back the years.
Fazal never parlayed his fame for any political or personal gain. As a senior police officer, he was noted for his probity and uprightness. During the twilight of his life, he had become quite devout even to the extent of going to the mosque and chanting the Fajr azan.
Fazal belonged to a vanished era when the values of pride and passion of performing for Pakistan superseded those of pelf and plunder.
I was fortunate to have known him. When he first came to see me at my office, I walked him outside to see him off. I discovered that he had been given a ride on the back of a motorcycle. In an acquisitive culture of display and of material pomp, it was a salutary reminder where true greatness actually lay – not through possessions but through the steadfast upholding of the virtues of simple living and lofty thinking.
Fazal was one of Pakistan’s first authentic national heroes. The legacy of Fazal shall outlive many a temporary inhabitant of power.