Milkha Singh. The only Indian athlete to win a gold medal at the Commonwealth Games. Nirmal Saini. Captain of the international women’s volleyball team in an era when Indian sportswomen were a rarity. Together, they form a team that has played, laughed and loved for close to 50 years. Anjana Jha spends an afternoon with a couple of winners

 
We’ve clearly caught Nirmal Saini on a bad day — it’s Lohri, they have a lunch appointment and her husband has committed to the Harmony interview without consulting her. Still, the 73 year-old is grace personified, serving us sweets and steaming cups of coffee. She even offers us a delicious home-cooked lunch when her husband eventually cancels the appointment. Her effortless elegance is echoed in the cream-and-beige living room of the imposing house in Chandigarh’s Sector 8, enlivened by flowers on the wall and in vases, crimson here, white and gold there. Her real pride and joy, however, stands next to her impeccably attired in a dark formal suit: Milkha Singh, her husband, the Flying Sikh of athletic lore, ‘Sardarji’ to her. “She’s a little upset with me but she won’t be angry for long!” the octogenarian whispers to us in a conspiratorial tone. As we see his ‘Madam’ — as he has always called her — posing with him for pictures, giggling when he takes her hand, we believe him.

The chemistry is still palpable between these two athletes — she was a volleyball champion — after almost half a century together. Their four children complete the circle; it is indeed a telling sign that the trophies won by their youngest, Jeev, a championship golfer, are the only awards displayed in their home. Together they have negotiated life’s twists and turns, victories and heartbreaks, with companionship, understanding and an enduring love. Here’s the story of Mr and Mrs Singh:

Could you share with us the secret of your happy marriage?
NS: We’ve been together 48 years. My advice to young married wives is simple: During the first two years, say ‘yes yes’ to everything he says. Then in the third year, you’ll automatically become the boss! I’m speaking from personal experience. But frankly, women should be prepared to submit more. It’s something we have to accept gracefully.

Did sports bring you together?
NS: We met in Colombo in 1956. I’d gone with the Indian volleyball team for the Indo-Ceylon championships and he was there for an international athletic meet.
MS: I saw her playing — she was wearing a skirt….
NS: I’ve never worn a skirt! [Incredulous.] Even during international matches, I always wore salwar kameez while playing.
MS: We met at a dinner hosted by an Indian businessman for all the players. Though we were attracted to each other, we didn’t keep in touch after our return to India. Then in 1958, I accepted an invitation to lecture at her physical education college in Patiala and saw her sitting in the first row. During the camp that followed in the next 15 to 20 days, we would often meet and just keep talking. There was no question of even holding hands!

So was that the beginning of your romance and courtship?
MS: No, there was no contact again for the next two years. Like most sportsmen, I had girlfriends and fans in every city! For a while, I got involved with a girl from a well-to-do Delhi family. We met again during the National Games in Delhi.
NS: That was 1960. I was physical director of Lady Irwin College and had taken my girls for training.
MS: I had joined the Punjab administration in Chandigarh as deputy director of sports that year after getting my discharge from the Army. I had joined in 1951 as a jawan. Chief of Army Staff General Thimayya loved me like a son and was reluctant to release me. He said he would promote me to the officer cadre and make me a lieutenant; that way I would be a brigadier when I retired. Pandit Jawaharlal Nehru had to intervene. Then, destiny played a masterstroke. She too moved to Chandigarh as assistant director of sports in 1961 and we started working together. We’d meet regularly at work; have lunch together; visit university grounds for training together. People started talking.

So you decided to get married?
NS: We had two years of courtship. However, we faced a lot of objection from our families initially. I am from a Hindu background while he comes from a Sikh Rathore Rajput family.
MS: We even considered court marriage for a while but her brother as well as Pratap Singh Kairon — then chief minister of Punjab — managed to persuade her father. Once the families agreed, we had a traditional ceremony in 1962 with all the sardar riti observed at the Darbar Sahib in Pathankot.

Did marriage put an end to your career, Mrs Singh?
NS: I decided to quit playing competitively after 1962 but I continued to work in the administration. Other than the marriage, there was the age factor as well; I was 27 years old. Also, I didn’t want him to be bothered with things like running the house or looking after the children. He had already struggled so much in life.

Please share those turbulent days with us.
MS: Ours was once a large family in Muzaffargarh district in what is now Pakistan. But only four of us survived. After witnessing my parents being killed in a massacre during Partition, I managed to cross the border to Ferozpur and travel to Delhi by train with other refugees. The railway station was my home for almost three weeks before I learnt my elder sister had also escaped and was living in Shahdara in east Delhi. Many people were reunited thanks to the ‘lost and found’ announcements regularly made over loudspeakers at the station.
NS: I was much more blessed. We were an affluent family in Shekhupura in Pakistan where my father was a well-known lawyer. Though we lost everything when we migrated to India, my father was fortunate enough to become an executive in the Municipal Corporation in Jalandhar.

Settling down in a new environment must have been difficult for you.
NS: I joined school in sixth grade in Jalandhar. I enjoyed academics and after completing my post-graduation in political science from Punjab University in 1958, I joined the Government College of Physical Education in Patiala. I was a gold medallist in the diploma course.
MS: I tried to join the Army thrice but was rejected each time. I had no one to do sifarish [backing] for me. Finally Makhan Singh, my elder brother who had been conscripted by the British Army during World War II in 1940-41, helped me out. I joined the Army’s electrical mechanical engineering branch in 1951 as a technical jawan. The salary was a princely Rs 39 and 8 anna, of which Rs 10 had to be compulsorily remitted every month to family. I would send the amount to my sister.

How did you discover sports?
NS: I started playing different games while I was in school and especially enjoyed volleyball, netball, basketball, hockey and badminton.
MS: As a child in Pakistan, I would never walk the 2-3 km to the village school — I would run. After fourth grade, I joined high school in Kot Addu city and continued to run the 10-km distance to school. I had no shoes and still remember how the scorching sand burnt my feet during summer; I’d stop to cool them wherever there was a patch of grass. Then within a fortnight of joining the Army, I participated in a cross-country race where 10 from among 500 jawan were to be selected for athletics training. I came sixth despite developing severe stomach pain after just half a mile and being forced to stop and rest several times. After my selection, my mentor havaldar Gurdev Singh trained me for hours every day — I would practice running on the railway tracks in Secunderabad against the speed of a metre gauge train.

Describe some of your successes on the field.
NS: Though I was an inter-university level badminton player, volleyball was my forte. During the National Championships held at Patiala in 1956, our team from Punjab won the title without losing a single game and retained the No. 1 position in the country till 1963. I was the national champion for seven years and captain of the women’s volleyball team.
MS: I owe a lot to the Army. Coming from a remote village, I was ignorant about athletics with no idea about the Asian or Commonwealth Games leave alone the Olympics. I tasted my first success at the Services Athletic Meet in 1955 where I came 2nd in the 200 m and 400 m races. At the National Games held at Patiala the following year, I won both events. In 1958, I broke the 200 m and 400 m records at the National Games at Cuttack. Incidentally, it was the first time I wore shoes — I used to run barefoot earlier!

Tell us about some of your international experiences.
NS: I led the women’s volleyball team when we played in Colombo in 1955; we ended up winning all the games. Our team also played in the Indo-Russian championships at Moscow the following year.
MS: I made my Olympic debut in Melbourne in 1956. The night before the trials, I was actually beaten up by fellow-competitors; they were record holders that I’d defeated who didn’t want me to participate. At Melbourne, a sardar was a rare sight in those days. I remember Australia’s sprint queen Betty Cuthbert’s fascination with my turban. I tied it on her and she posed for so many pictures. Eventually, I presented the turban to her! It was two years more before I made my mark in international events, winning two gold medals (200 m and 400 m) at the Tokyo Asian Games and one gold medal at the Commonwealth Games in Cardiff (400 m). Till today, I have been the only Indian athlete to win a Commonwealth gold in athletics. Vijayalakshmi Pandit, who was the Indian high commissioner to the UK, congratulated me and gave me a message from Pandit Nehru. He wanted to give me a reward, anything I wanted. I asked Panditji to declare one day as a national holiday to celebrate my victory! In those days there was no money in sports; izzat [honour] was everything.

How about disappointments?
MS: I will never forget the 400 m race at the 1960 Rome Olympics where Otis Davis, Carl Kaufman, Malcolm Spence and I all broke the Olympic record. It was a photo finish and though I clocked 45.6 seconds, the difference of just 0.1 second made me miss the bronze. I’ve cried only thrice in my entire life — twice in sadness and once in joy. The first time was when I saw my parents being killed and the second was when I lost the medal in Rome. I wanted to stop running after that but I received thousands of letters of encouragement from people. Their faith in me helped win the gold in the Jakarta Asian Games in 1962. The only time I cried in happiness was after winning gold at the Commonwealth Games. As I stood on the victory stand and watched the Indian flag flutter to the strains of our national anthem echoing around the fully packed stadium, I could not help tears of joy from streaming down my face.

Mr Singh, who first called you the Flying Sikh?
MS: President Ayub Khan of Pakistan called me the Flying Sikh after I defeated Abdul Khaliq — Pakistan’s fastest runner and winner of the 100 m gold at the Tokyo Asian Games — in Lahore in 1960. I’d defeated him earlier in the 200 m at Tokyo. It was incredible to be so recognised despite the fact that there was no television in those days. In fact, I saw one for the first time in India in 1982. A fellow athlete in Germany had presented me with a black-and-white set in 1960. I brought it back to India and installed it with great care but all I got on the screen was static grains of light! Even the transistor I bought in Melbourne in 1956 was a big thing. After a cup of coffee at Gaylord’s, I’d walk around Connaught Place, the transistor slung casually on my shoulder with a song playing. People were amazed and followed me around as if I were a madaari [juggler].

Tell us about the awards and accolades you received.
MS: I received the Padmashri in 1958. In fact, we’re the first sports family in India with two Padmashri awards; Jeev received his in 2007. In 1959, I was awarded the international Helms World trophy; the only other Indians to be honoured with this award are hockey great K D Singh Babu and tennis ace Ramanathan Krishnan. I was also given the Arjuna Award in 2001 — my son Jeev had already received it in 1999! They gave me this award for lifetime achievement more than 40 years after my Padmashri; it was like getting a matriculation certificate after post-graduation. In fact, I was a member of the committee that instituted the award in 1961; it is intended to recognise outstanding performance of sportspersons at an international level. Accepting it with players who had not done well even on a national level would have been an insult.

Why are none of your trophies displayed at home; only your son’s?
MS: My wife is a gem of a lady. She’s better than any medal or trophy! Actually I donated all my trophies to the national sports museum at the Jawaharlal Nehru Stadium in New Delhi. I’ve now requested the authorities to transfer the trophies to the sports museum in Patiala.

Was it hard for both of you to leave the world of sports?
MS: We never really left. For many years, I regularly attended the Olympics, Commonwealth and Asian Games, and national meets. As director of sports, I promoted different games in schools and colleges. Even now I enjoy going to stadiums, attending athletic meets and offering guidance and coaching tips. I also considered starting a sports academy but it never took off because of bureaucracy and red tape.
NS: During my tenure, my contribution towards developing sports complexes and playgrounds in Chandigarh, including the hockey and tennis stadiums, has been significant. The standard of sports also improved. Besides national meets, I organized an international level regatta and hockey championship.

Did you always want your children to be in sports?
MS: No, we didn’t. Unless you’re at the top, it’s not paying to be a sportsperson. A district-level player is worth nothing.
NS: Earlier sports had no future; there was no concept of it being a career option. Even today, it is plagued by political interference, lack of long-term planning and lack of dedication. Our daughters were born in quick succession — Aleeza in 1963, Mona in 1964 and Sonia in 1965 — while Jeev followed in 1971. We wanted them to do well academically. Today, Aleeza is a textile designer, Mona is a doctor, Sonia is a psychologist and Jeev is a graduate in business administration.
MS: All credit to her! She’d teach the children and help with the homework. When she slapped them occasionally, I’d get very upset though. I remember not speaking to her for almost a month once. I must add that all our children married of their own will. I believe if I could do it, so could our children. In fact, our second son-in-law is a Christian.

Today, Jeev is also a world-ranked golf player….
MS: Jeev was crazy about golf since he was eight or nine years old. He’d come back from school, dump his bag and rush off to the golf course. To put an end to this, I sent him to Bishop Cotton School in Shimla. I remember giving him a tight slap because he had refused to go — the first and only time I ever hit any of my children! He continued to play whenever he came to Chandigarh. Then in 1985, he insisted on participating in the National Junior Golf Championships in New Delhi. He won; the prize was a three-week coaching session in London. I realised I was being obstinate. So I brought him back from Shimla and started spending five to six hours every day training him as best as I could.

If a child has to succeed — at sports or anything — he needs full support, time and attention of his parents. In fact, when he won a scholarship to study in the US after winning third position at the Junior World Cup in Melbourne, he didn’t want to go. Even his mother supported him as she couldn’t imagine him living so far away but I put my foot down. Today, he lives with us but is rarely home for more than three or four days at a time. He travels the world playing golf.
NS: His wife Kudrat, who is also from Chandigarh, normally accompanies him but she’s expecting their first child now.

What about other grandchildren? How often do you meet them?
NS: Aleeza has an 18 year-old daughter and a 12 year-old son while Sonia has three-and-a-half year-old twins — a daughter and a son.
MS: We get together thrice a year; in the US in summer; in India once a year; and once abroad wherever Jeev is playing. Somewhere in Singapore or Europe, perhaps London where he has a house.

You have also adopted the son of havaldar Bikram Singh, a Kargil war martyr….
MS: Bikram Singh was a national-level boxer. After reading about his family in the newspaper, my wife and I first decided to donate Rs 100,000 but changed our mind and adopted Manjit instead. Admitting him in Chandigarh’s Shivalik Public School will give him opportunities he’d never have got in the village. A sum of Rs 50,000 a year is set aside for him and Jeev has been told that this should continue till his education is complete.

How do you spend your free time as a couple?
MS: We’re both very social and enjoy playing cards with friends. Of course, we’ve decreased the number of functions we attend because of age! Both of us like music — I like ghazal while she prefers bhajan. We also have a good collection of Punjabi songs.
NS: I enjoy watching films but he doesn’t, so I go with friends once in a while. I recently saw 3 Idiots. In all our years of marriage, we’ve watched only two movies together. I think it was Mahal and Mehbooba.
MS: And during one of them I fell asleep halfway! When she roused me, I left her to watch and went home. Our taste in food matches though. We both relish Indian cuisine; even when we are abroad, we look out for Indian restaurants. I love dal, bharta, bhindi and karela cooked by her. And yes, gajar ka halwa!

What bothers you about each other? Any habits or quirks?
MS: She snores a lot. At times it’s so loud that I have to shake her awake.
NS: Sometimes I just go to another room so he can sleep properly. And no, he doesn’t snore at all!

What do you do for Mrs Singh?
MS: I give her all my love!

How do you both remain so fit?
NS: By God’s grace neither of us have any health problems. Both my knees were replaced in 2003 but I’m fine now. I took up golf as an exercise in 1996 and still play nine holes three or four times a week — wearing trousers! Sardarji plays all 18 holes.
MS: I play four or fives times a week. I started playing in 1967. I still jog 3 km at Sukhna Lake thrice a week and work out at the gym at home another three days. I think exercise and diet are very important. We should eat frequent meals but only half of what we need at our age. According to records, I was born in October 1935 but I’ve no idea what my real birth date is! In those days in the village, births and deaths were associated with seasons and events. According to my elder sister, I was born the winter that our cow gave birth to a calf; that was probably around 1929. So that makes me 80 now!

Has age made any difference to your outlook on life?
MS: I don’t believe in another life. The past is dead and the future is unknown, so enjoy the present. Nor do I believe in palmistry or astrological predictions. A person changes the lines of his destiny by sheer hard work. Will power can enable anyone to achieve anything. That’s why I don’t enjoy the company of old people! They make little groups and keep complaining and finding fault with the younger generation. It’s wrong to expect children to keep doing their duty because of what you’ve done for them. Give them advice but don’t force them to follow your dictates.
NS: Sardarji could’ve been a politician or minister because of all our contacts but we’re happy to be what we are. But I strongly believe in the stars and often consult astrologers!

Is there anything you’d like to do differently in life?
MS: Given a chance to live my life once again, I’d do everything exactly the same way.
NS: [Beams.]

55 ways to keep your relationship alive — and your sanity intact!

1: Don’t look bored — even if you are — when he’s discussing something.

2: Get her a small radio for the kitchen.

3: Get two newspapers or split one into two; keep the supplement for the loo.

4: Place a request for his favourite old number on the late night radio show. And yes, figure out a way to keep him awake.

5: Pull his cheeks while he is reading the newspaper — just for the heck of it.

6: Don’t fight the next time he throws a towel on the bed — put a rack in your bedroom to hold it.

7: Buy a pet and discover the joys of parenting once again!

8: Don’t panic if he invites friends at the last moment — keep some ready-to-cook food in your fridge.

9: If he mentions your snoring, remind him that you’ve put up with his much longer.

10: Don’t switch on the light when you go to the toilet at night; use a torch instead.

11: Remember that she may fall if you wet the bathroom floor.

12: Encourage her to have a day out with her friends — without worrying about your meals.

13: Exchange that loud, rustling polythene bag with a box for your medication; it doesn’t quite sound good any time of the day.

14: Get someone to sketch your portrait together.

15: surprise her with flowers once in a while — even if it’s just a single stem of her favourite lily.

16: He prefers your lap over that pillow. Snuggle up.

17: Give up something for each other. How about that paunch?

18: Go for walks together; you can always slow your pace for part of the distance.

19: Hold hands in public. It isn’t against the law.

20: If he can watch your serials, you can cheer the Indian cricket team with him.

21: SMS her a mushy compliment when she is out buying groceries.

22: Buy her a small plant — you can tend it together.

23: In every argument, cut the chase and say sorry.

24: Rent a DVD of a black-and-white classic you saw together.

25: Two iPods are better than one radio.

26: Leave the good side of the bed for the light sleeper.

27: Let her crib about the extended family; after all, she’s listened to all your rants against the boss for many years.

28: Listen to each other’s voice. Read out a joke, a poem or an excerpt from a book.

29: On her birthday this year, invite her close friends over for an overnight hen party.

30: Once a week, skip that walk with your buddies to walk with her.

31: Open an email account for her and flood her with messages.

32: For once, go to the loo when you feel a fart approaching. Just because she has never complained doesn’t mean she likes it.

33: Pencil in one picnic a month in your diary.

34: Plan a holiday to a city that doesn’t contain children, relatives or friends.

35: Play cards. And remember it’s no fun if you don’t cheat.

36: Pull out all your old albums and go through them together.

37: Watch a new-generation film together to show you that nothing is impossible.

38: Respect her individuality and need for space.

39: Reward a week of fastidious diet with a lavish Sunday lunch.

40: Send him a telegram — saying ‘I love you’.

41: Start a simple exercise routine together and ensure you both stick to it.

42: Make tea for her on Sunday morning; then await a scrumptious breakfast.

43: That doesn’t mean you can invite your friends unannounced.

44: Take her out for a romantic dinner for two even without an occasion.

45: Technology is a great leveller; stay abreast to share good times.

46: Tell her what a good job she’s doing with the grand-kids — one of those sunny smiles is sure to head your way.

47: Tell her you love her during an argument.

48: Surprise her with a holiday package. Next time, let her choose.

49: The next time he hogs your side of the bed, suggest switching sides.

50: Tickle him. Of course, when he least expects it.

51: Try to develop an interest in each other’s hobbies and pursuits.

52: Two small television sets are better than a big one.

53: Waking up late to read? That’s what reading lights are meant for.

54: Watch a mushy romantic film together instead of the thriller you’d rather see.

55: When you are at the pharmacist, buy her a luxurious shower gel along with that pain relief spray.

Photo: Ranjit Singh
Featured in Harmony – Celebrate Age Magazine
February 2010