When he was a fully mature and cultivated man, Maharaja Churachand brought modern sports to Manipur. This was his greatest achievement. We were still growing up when my father was seeing his dreams come true. He himself was a well-known sportsman and he instituted a wide and comprehensive year-round sports policy.
One day, some professors from D. M. College of Arts came to see me. They asked me to be the chief guest at the closing function for a cricket tournament at their college. Me? At a cricket closing function? Why? I was surprised, and a bit nervous. I had pretty much forgotten about cricket in Manipur. I had heard and read about cricket games now and then. But I’d paid little attention – it was not really my field. D. M. College was donated in the name of my mother, Maharani Dhanamanjuri, the Lady Ngangbam. So I felt close to it and perhaps that was the reason they asked me. I agreed to their request; I could not refuse. But I couldn’t sleep all night for nervousness. I kept telling myself I was not afraid nor was I anxious about an unfamiliar pursuit. In the middle of the night, I woke up suddenly. Forgotten events from a hazy life swarmed around me. I thought I saw my father standing before me. That was the first time I tried to know him. I was perhaps five or six years old at the time. It was the first time I thought to look at Manipur’s history44.
I dimly saw Sovereign Father and his playing fields in my mind’s eye. I started my research immediately; I entered the realm of what I had heard, what I had seen. I had not realized what an amazing man my father was. Yes, he was the king; a king they said, sent by God. I discovered it was not that easy to know my father, to reach out to him.
Sovereign Father studied at Ajmer’s Mayo College, the school for the kings and princes of India’s native states. So he became familiar with the customs, manners and sports of the West. The child king was among the college’s sportsmen. My father’s favourite sports were cricket, tennis and polo. Among the indoor sports, it was billiards, bridge and chess that he liked best, I am told. As a child, I saw the large billiards table in my father’s big room. The vivid green baize table was my play place. I loved it. I used to crawl under it and draw pictures in chalk. I remembered these small events and could not sleep. Surprisingly enough, after my initial nervousness, I couldn’t wait for the event at D.M. College to happen and I kept worrying that they would forget to invite me. I rehearsed what to say, what I should say. I could not wait to tell them this but I had to be careful, for I could not, and I should not, say everything. In fact, when I started giving my chief guest’s address, someone whispered, ‘If possible, please do not make it too long. It is getting late.’
The game began. It proceeded properly according to its rules. The young professors’ enthusiastic and efficient arrangements seduced me. I was watching cricket in Manipur after many years. I held back my tears – I did not know who was playing in what position, who was playing well or badly. I saw the uneven, overgrown playing field, the young men playing passionately in their plain, simple clothes. The audience was thin but they played on. I watched but what came to my eyes was what I saw as a child: my sovereign father’s playing field that he had made with such love. How beautiful it was. The playing field was south of the new palace and next to the moat, a wide expanse of tingoi grass that was laid out like green baize all the way to the low brick wall. The entire field was planted with tingoi; no other kind of grass was allowed to mix in. I do not know how long the well-mown and lovingly tended playing field had been around. But I heard that it was forbidden at the palace to step on the grass. Anyone who did so was put in prison.
People who had seen and knew about it told me how the playing field had been made. They said it took a full two years. Huge rollers battened down the earth over and over, the pitch was levelled, straight lines were drawn using instruments, and people planted the tingoi grasses one at a time. It is said that people, even noblemen, came in groups without being asked, to plant even one blade of grass. During the British period, the grass playing field of the Maharaja of Manipur was renowned as the most beautiful of all the cricket grounds in India. How elegant the players were, how immaculate. Creased trousers of cream flannel, spotless white shirts. A variety of caps with different insignia. How luxuriously the game was played! I remember seeing the red ball rolling on the green grass, flying high into the empty sky. Many Englishmen from the mainland came to play there. Where are they today? It was heartrending and it saddened me.
But, surprisingly, the players today did not seem to mind. They did not seem to care if they fell or remember that they might get hurt. They ran on the uneven field, swiftly chasing the red ball flying through the air. I fretted and worried for them. The bands they had each brought along played and beat on drums at intervals. What fun they were having! It reminded me of the royal games of long ago which were packed with spectators, as at the big drum spectacle of dragon boat races. But the young men played, they played very well, on the make-do playing field of D.M. College.
During the breaks, the players sat here and there, eating watermelon and drinking fruit juice. They laughed and were happy. Where they sat was not the large, spacious club that Sovereign Father had built. What they ate was not the puffed bread and pumpkin relish prepared by ten specially chosen Brahmins. It was not the potato chips planed to paper-thinness and fried in pure butter. There were a huge number of snacks, fabulous snacks that even the spectators got to eat. The dexterous bandmaster Thambou of Keisamthong village interrupted with a glittering dance on the green grass. Did I see that, or am I just imagining it, I do not know. I was confused.
My sovereign father, the dark-complexioned maharaja Churachand, wearing western clothes topped off by a Manipuri headdress, a Manipuri turban of gauzy cloth tied at an angle, laughed and shouted among the spectators, and took part in the game even as he watched it. Is this a dream I made up only today or a reality? I cannot say. Maharaja Churachand’s playing field and cricket team were made in this manner. The British who played were tall and pleasing to the eye. Various amusements were added now and then. There were even games in fancy dress I am told.
One time I do really recall a cricket game between the gentlemen and ladies. I do not know who was who. They were British, all English ladies, on the women’s side. They were beautiful and I adored them. I had eyes only for them. At the end of the game, everyone chased the English lady bowler around. They grabbed at her blouse and pulled off her skirt. She turned out to be a short fat Englishman in his underwear! They laughed a lot and clapped their hands. But I did not quite understand, and wondered how the English lady became a man. An elderly eyewitness said that the Englishman must surely have been so-and-so. Apparently, he was a good player as well as a great jokester.
My sovereign father was not only a good player himself but was also reputed to be a very good coach. He taught all the members of his team. And they were well-known sportsmen of the day. I want to name them at this point or they may be forgotten. I knew most of them. My father’s favourite was the Kabui Naga settlement in Keisamthong. He took many of his best players from the Keisamthong settlement and put together an excellent marching band for the State Military Police. He had people from Keisamthong who had a talent for music and dance learn how to play the musical instruments for the band. He sent bandmaster Thambou to Jorhat for training. He learned how to read music and became famous as a good-looking bandmaster. Later when I became interested, I looked up the names of my sovereign father’s famous sportsmen. They were:
From Keisamthong settlement:
Kadachung: A good athlete. Kadachung was also in the band.
Abungna: A good athlete. Abungna could also string tennis racquets.
Khakhong: A good athlete.
Ajona – Ta Ajona was an all-rounder. He was a good bowler. He could play other games well, not just cricket.
Meitei sportsmen:
Thingom Thanil: An all-rounder, and best known as a bowler. He could also play tennis and other sports well.
Subedar Laisram Yaimabi: An all- rounder. He was known as a bowler. He could play other sports too, He played tennis well.
Jamadar Gokul Singh: A good athlete. Famous as a good wicket-keeper.
Maibam Iboton: Cricket, tennis, polo; there was nothing he could not play. He had no peer at breaking horses. He was good at them all, indoor and outdoor, He also played kang well. He coached tennis.
Haobam Ibochaoba: He played cricket and tennis. He was the younger brother of the maharaja’s fifth wife, the Leima Khubi Naha, Maid of Haobam.
Akoijam Mani: A renowned player. In addition to cricket and tennis, he also played badminton well.
Khomdram Dhanachandra: He was a celebrated sportsman. He was a well-known as an actor in Manipuri theatre. He was also known as Constable Thambou. He was a superintendent of police in the police department.
Khaidem Kunjabi: He excelled in cricket and tennis. He was the father of Khaidem Deben, the famous actor.
Laisram Gourahari: A wonderful athlete. It was said he was faster than the ball. He was well-known as a fielder. He also played tennis but was best known for badminton. They say that when Akoijam Mani and he doubled up as partners, they were unbeatable. He was also celebrated as an artist. He was known as Oja Gourahari. He was the elder brother of Subedar Yaimabi.
Rajkumar Madhuryyajit Singh: He was a famous tennis player and was known even beyond Manipur’s borders. He was the grandson of Crown Prince Tikendrajit.
Rajkumar Birchandra: He was the son of Maharaja Churachand’s fourth older brother. He was a good athlete.
Rajkumar Thambousana: He was the younger brother of Birchandra and a good sportsman.
Maharaj Kumar Lokendra: A good sportsman. He was good at tennis. He was the maharaja’s third son.
Subedar Huidrom Tombi, also known as Meghachandra: Not only was he a sportsman but a capable organizer. He fought in the first German War45. He was always in the palace even in his later years. The subedar later became a Major. He was in charge of the racehorses.
Purno and Khansa: These two started as ball boys and became great tennis players themselves. They were Nepalis.
There was a mini sports complex in those days at Gurulampak, in the estate occupied by the palace. There was a field where they played hockey to the north of the long end of the cricket ground of tingoi grass that lay on the palace’s southern side. There was an elegant club with open walls between two beautiful tennis courts right beside the big two-storied mansion. The southern polo ground, also known as the inner polo ground, now the eastern ground, was right by the Govinda Temple and was where traditional polo was played. In the large outer polo ground to the west, there used to be horse races regularly, I am told. On a small field next to the outer polo ground towards the Mahabali temple forest they used to have wrestling-hockey, coconut rugby, foot-hockey and so on during the spring festival. I never saw Sovereign Father play polo but I did see him play tennis. I once saw him play doubles with Tamo Lokendra as his partner. Tamo Lokendra looked just like Sovereign Father right down to his dark complexion.
Maharaja Churachand was a king who played with fervour. Our Meitei ancestors of old were a bunch of masculine athletes accomplished in many sports. Wrestling, foot-hockey and polo were traditional sports. It is not surprising that Maharaja Churachand emerged as a sportsman of renown with this great tradition.
It is said that my sovereign father, had no peer when it came to sharp shooting. He caught many tigers and hunted many animals: this found frequent mention in the court chronicle. One time in some place I do not know exactly where, he brought down a black panther sitting on the very top of a tree with a single shot. My younger brother Captain Joy was also a good shot. As a young man, my sovereign father went to Dehra Dun Imperial Cadet College in 1905 for training. He must have learned to shoot at the time.
But I never knew my father very well. At the most we joined him when he ate his meals, or his afternoon tea of parathas. Who he was, what he thought, what he wanted, we never knew. We do not remember him parenting us as a father, holding us or carrying us. Once when I was little, we stayed in Calcutta for about three months. We stayed in a large two-storied building in a place called Manohar Pukur Road. One day there was a big storm in Bengal. How terrified I was by the thunderstorm! I cried a good deal. My father Churachand the king slung me on his back at the time. I hid my face in his thick, broad, cool back. How happy I was, how I loved it!
It is true, I never knew my sovereign father as he was rising to the height of his power nor did I know the world of sports he was famous in. He was already there before I was born. One time he went to Ajmer with my birthmother the Lady Ngangbam. Three of us children also went. The reason for his visit was a cricket match between Mayo College’s ex-students and the young sportsman princes. Many kings from famous, wealthy states of India also came. We heard of the Maharaja of Kapurthala for the first time, and of the Maharaja of Patiala too. We stayed in a big house near a large reservoir called Puskaraj, a pilgrimage site. The Maharaja of Manipur, defender of tradition, had to stay by a sacred pilgrimage site. The Puskaraj was huge and broad, with many alligators. It also had a lot of fish. But no one caught and ate them.
We were also taken along on the day of the match. My sovereign father played with the Old Boys. We did not know who was who, but we saw there were a lot of people. My father was not only a good player, but also a stylish one, people said. Sometimes he displayed comic talent. Crown Prince Tikendrajit also played Manipuri polo with great style. I heard that Oja Sanasam Gourahari once told the story of a time when the maharaja was playing on the field, he caught the ball, rolled over and remained curled up on the ground. People feared that the maharaja of Manipur was hurt. But he was fine, the comedian sportsman king held up the ball and shouted, ‘Here it is!’ I forgot to ask which match that was in which this happened. It was said he would entertain people with his antics now and then. What can I say, he even held an elephant race in the outer polo ground. Cheiraobi, the young cow elephant, won. He used to take many Meitei sportsmen selected to represent Manipur to Shillong. He patronized and promoted many other sports besides cricket. He used to buy sports equipment for the sports-loving youths of Keisamthong Kabui settlement, some people who received them told me. Sougaijam Dhiren, a maternal uncle, was one of the athletes who gained renown from such a group of youths.
Among the welfare schemes that Maharaja Churachand took up to provide a comfortable life for good sportsmen was the provision of jobs according to their qualifications. And so it was said that if one were a good sportsman the maharaja would give him a job. In particular, if one knew cricket, one got a job. Since cricket is a classy, expensive game that requires a lot of preparation, it needs patronage. It comes as no surprise that people still emerge to play cricket in Manipur today, continuing a tradition of a game that Sovereign Father had built with love at one time. But how did they organize it? Who supported it? I wanted to know. Word came from the young teachers that some generous individuals contributed the prizes that were distributed. It is all right; even a leaf can be a prize. Whether a bushel of rice, half a load of salt, or a drape of ngabong cloth, a prize is a prize. So when I started to write my story, I had decided that I would surely include an episode called ‘Maharaja Churachand, my Sovereign Father and Cricket in Manipur’. I was stirred that day. I began my search. I began to write acquisitively, eagerly.
There were two men who were the most amazing among the athletes of the day. One was Maibam Iboton and the other was Laisram Gourahari. These two gifted pre-eminent sportsmen did not get job appointments from the king. Laisram Gourahari was not only a renowned sportsman but also a distinguished artist. He never held any position – in fact, it was said that every time there was a position to which he could be appointed, the artist Gourahari was nowhere to be found. He would go off to study music, or spend his time composing a melody or playing the sitar. He went off with a group of dancers. Sometimes he would join in as a woman if there was a dearth of female dancers. Gourahari composed the music for Ngangbam Nimai’s famous song, Oh my people the beautiful.46
Maibam Iboton was just the same. In addition to being a great athlete, he was a deeply knowledgeable and clever scholar. He played Manipuri polo very well and was a winner each time he played. He was the pride of the land but he never held any position. I guess he did not want any encumbrances in life. People said that if they had but wanted it, they would have attained good positions very easily. People would not have said a word, nor would the divine king have suffered a loss of face, by appointing them as they were gifted sportsmen, since uncle Iboton was the Maharaja Churachand’s brother-in-law. Uncle’s older sister Thambalmacha was Sovereign Father’s consort. Cousin Gourahari was the same. He was Sovereign Father’s son-in-law. He fell in love with and married Gourisana, the daughter of prince Chandrahas of Heinoumakhongtaba, third older brother of Sovereign Father.
I am happy today. My trip to the fields of D.M. College to watch cricket has been rewarding. I have been able to portray my father somewhat. PB once told me that my father often stood alone in the early morning winter mist with his hands clasped behind his back, wearing a velvet gown of deep maroon that came down to his ankles and the woollen wide hat his daughter Tamphasana made for him, and looked at his green playing fields. What a lovely image! What dreams did he dream, what was he thinking? Did he think life had been good? As for me, my life has had its reward. If I had not gone that day to watch cricket, if I had not written about it, the unfortunate child king Churachand of a colonized Manipur who took part in the establishment of a new Manipur might have been forgotten. And so when they did not bring up the name of my sovereign father when they were starting to build a sports complex at Khuman Lampak, I felt hurt though I did not say anything. I was disappointed that they did not mention the names such as those of Crown Prince Koireng Tikendrajit, peerless at polo, or Prince Pakasana. It is not only that; we are very forgetful. And this I regret. In addition, we have also forgotten strongmen like Maibam Tamrasingh, Yambem Laba and so on. Fine, it is enough; let us end it here. Let us hold on to the stories of old. What gratifies me is that today, my athlete father Churachand’s grandson Nimai47 has grown to love sports, and it pleases me to see what he has contributed to sports.