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BUCK STOPS HERE

OTHER TOP GUNS
Maharajas of Rewa: The dynasty, with a knack for big game hunting, had over the years, developed Bandhavgarh as their private hunting grounds

Maharaja Ranjit Singhji: Also known as the Jam Sahib of Nawanagar, he excelled as much in cricket as in shooting at the turn of the twentieth century

Jim Corbett: The most well-known marksman to have hunted in the Indian subcontinent. Left for Kenya soon after Independence.

Last seen, Mansur Ali Khan Pataudi had a smoking gun in his hands. And bullet-riddled carcasses of animals tumbled out of his SUV, on its way back from the forests of Jhajjhar in Haryana. And, given that the incident happened in an era of heightened animal rights activism, all hell broke loose.

But pause for a while, and ponder. Wasn’t the Indian royalty always known for its ways with guns? Turn back the pages of history, and how many red-hued photographs of royal gentry can you spot, that do not show the man of the house ? rifle in hand ? lording over his shikaar? Without an enviable collection of cars and wildlife trophies, a Nawab was never a Nawab.

And that explains why it’s not the first time that the erstwhile Nawab of what was once the princely state of Pataudi has been spotted in a game of marksmanship. The former India Test cricketer ? who became captain at 21 and remains India’s youngest Test skipper to date ? was always known to tote his rifle with as much flair as he wielded the willow. In fact, if legend is to be believed, he brought down a big cat with a 20mm gun when he was all of 16.

In the days to come, Pataudi was to be known to humanity as ‘Tiger’. And in hailing him by his feline sobriquet, the world had, in a way, endorsed his exploits in the jungle ? though unwittingly so. For the past 48 years, he had burned brighter in the public eye than William Blake would ever have imagined. Until earlier this month, when he allegedly preyed on a black buck and a clutch of rabbits on one of his prowls.

It was enough for the very world that fawned over him for decades to suddenly sit up and take offence. Killer, they said. Criminal, they ranted. Off with his head, they are yet to demand.

If this isn’t dramatic irony at its best, what is?

Simple twists of fate apart, the fact remains that if Pataudi, as alleged, had accompanied a hunting party into the forests earlier this month, he had indeed defied the law. He may or may not have pulled the trigger, but complicity was enough reason to get the cops on his trail. However, more than his involvement in the killing of rare species, it’s the unexpected hibernation on Pataudi’s part that has set tongues wagging. For he is a nobleman, with more than two centuries of royal lineage to boot. And in keeping with aristocracy, he was expected to live up to his nickname without a shade of doubt.

Son of the senior Nawab of the state of Pataudi in Haryana and Sajida Sultan, Begum of Bhopal, Pataudi was known to display enormous courage under fire. Even after a motor accident impaired his vision early into his cricketing career, it didn’t stop Pataudi from excelling in the game. Under his captaincy, India registered its first overseas Test series victory, against New Zealand in 1967-68.

Made an ICC match referee in 1993, Pataudi had taken on the role of doing justice on the outfield. And as late as in 2002, he became the first president of the newly-formed Indian Cricket Players’ Association, a body formed to stand for the interests of Indian cricketers.

In social circles, the former Nawab had an ex-movie star to flaunt for a wife and two contemporary Bollywood heartthrobs for children. Surely, refusing to face the consequences of his actions wasn’t what the public expected from the person who, at 64, still exuded enough charisma to sell potato chips to India’s generation next?

“It would only compound his problem,” feels Belinda Wright, director of the Wildlife Protection Society of India. “I don’t see how, after having knowingly crossed swords with the law, running away from the scene would help him in any way.”

No one knows if Pataudi ? currently in hiding ? is listening. Until recently hailed as a national icon of graceful ageing, the glamorous Nawab has supposedly transformed overnight into an old man weak in body, “inflicted with several diseases”. The fall from grace has been rapid; fast enough to beat a ricochet on its return path.

Former India teammate Nari Contractor extends his sympathies. “I feel sorry for him,” he says. But if the captain of the Indian team on its 1962-63 tour of West Indies is to be believed, this may not be the first time Pataudi has shown a streak of buckling under pressure.

In the face of a firebreathing West Indian pace attack, Pataudi had opted out of the first two Tests of the series, citing ‘groin injury’. Nevertheless, the young player ? who debuted against England earlier that season ? was apparently fit enough to party in the evenings and play pranks on his teammates in the dead of night. “Yes,” confirms Contractor. “But when he said he was injured, what could I do?”

In the 83 Test innings he played for India, the former Oxford Blue has had the unique distinction of never having fallen to run outs or stumpings. Off the field, however, he was caught short of the crease once, in 1997. But his reported act of shooting rare birds in Jammu and Kashmir went largely unnoticed. His son Saif was hauled up a year later for his involvement in a hunting case. Clout or otherwise, he had managed to make his ground too.

This time, the Tiger seems to be hopelessly stranded mid-way down the pitch, with more than 11 yards between him and the crease. It’s hard to say if a third umpire will be required in such a situation.

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