India has lost its most celebrated songstress. It’s a sad day, but the memories are sweet. Yes, as sweet as Lataji’s gajar halwa (carrot halwa) which she prepared for us at her Lord’s View flat in London, on our tours to England. “If you want to score a century, eat my gajar halwa,” she used to say.
Dilip Vengsarkar, who scored three Test centuries at Lord’s will relate to this more than us. I also remember some of my teammates more engrossed in the television coverage of the 1986 football World Cup than what Lataji prepared for us and I found that so amusing. Imagine Lata Mangeshkar cooking for you and you are more interested in football. But that’s how crazy football fans are!
To say she was kind to us cricketers would be an understatement. Cricket history books will tell you how we, the 1983 World Cup winners, could get Rs one lakh each only because of her concert held in New Delhi on our return.
I am trying to recollect when I first laid eyes on her. On yes, it was on Abbey Road in the English summer of 1979. I had to meet Raj Singh Dungarpur having just landed in England for my club stint at Edmonton, which Rajbhai had organised. I headed to his Abbey Road dwelling the day after landing, but was told he had gone to Europe. I tried my luck the following week and there I spotted Rajbhai and Lataji walking on Abbey Road, which is more associated with The Beatles.
She was so very kind and stayed kind right through the years. As I said earlier, our trips to her Lord’s View apartment just outside the Lord’s Cricket Ground and a few steps from our team hotel, were memorable to say the least. She loved this game and the players who played it very deeply. Words will not be enough to repay her. All we now have are memories and of course, those melodious songs which will be treasured for generations.
