One fingered state carrom champion Jagannath Metrani talks to Kunal Chonkar about balancing the intricacies of his private life, his familial responsibilities and his game
FORTY-ONE years ago,
Jagannath Metrani became victim of a rail accident in his village near Hubli. The accident, which involved a goods locomotive, left him crippled, with his left arm ripped out from the shoulder and four fingers of his right hand dismembered.
Only seven years old at that time, Metrani was rendered permanently handicapped, with no help or assistance in sight from either the state government or the railways. A young Metrani found that the doors of schools were seemingly shut to him, with most school authorities saying he could not write.
After great effort and much pleading, the state sanctioned him a telephone booth. It seemed that another social pariah was in the making. But now at the age of 47, Metrani is unfazed by the media attention victims from railway stone pelting and deaths caused by hotfooted commuters slipping in between moving trains get. Metrani’s hard truth is that this very world passed him by when he found himself incapacitated.
“My family suffered more than I did. My father pawned his clothes and sold the household utensils to pay for my medical bills. All this at a time when relatives and friends were urging my family to give up on me,” says Metrani.
During those trying years with 17 surgical procedures being carried out on him, Metrani strived away at a skill few in his condition would have dreamed of mastering. He honed his skill at carrom.
“We came to Mumbai from Hubli and settled in Goregaon. Our neighbours had a carrom board and I used to keep staring at them playing and cursing myself as I could never make it to the board with them,” says Metrani.
Not only did the sport earn him the respect of his peers but also got him his first job at Kamat’s Club in Goregaon before it shut in 2003-04. Metrani added that his then boss, P.N. Tarachandani, had hired him after witnessing his unique ability not only to efficiently score with the striker, but also play table tennis by holding the racket by ligating it in the strap of his watch.
Metrani must be the only one-fingered carrom or table tennis coach and player in the world. “Just when things seemed happy, my fate ditched me once again. I found my self jobless when the club shut down. I was reduced to selling vegetables and milk to fend for my family. My wife Sangeeta also started sewing clothes. Life at times can be very cruel,” says a teary-eyed Metrani who is comforted by Sangeeta.
“I am very lucky to have been married to him. He is the embodiment of relentless effort. At first I thought that I would have to help him with his shirt and day-to-day mundanities but was shocked when I saw that he could do almost everything without any assistance,” says Sangeeta.
After their marriage, the Metranis settled at Kannamvar Nagar, Vikhroli where he now runs a carrom club.
Fingered politics
Metrani’s romance with the sport, which he described in a letter of appeal to then Chief Minister Sudhakarao Naik as, ‘One art that is helping me by providing me with some cash prizes.’
Metrani’s struggle with politicians to secure a mere phone booth and even to be recognised with a certificate that attests his status as a physically challenged athlete began in 1998 and is still on.
“Many ministers from Naik to Vilasrao assured me of providing me with a home and a job, but here I am. Perhaps what was more disheartening was that several ministry staffers asked me for a cut were I to be allocated any state funds,” says Metrani.
Practicing away to perfection
“My finger would swell after each practice session. But I would simply apply oil every night before bed to soothe the pain and get back to practice the very next morning,” says Metrani, who practiced for almost 14 hours a day to perfect his finger movements.
“The doctors, upon inspection, had once said that my finger would have to be trained to undergo both fine and gross motor skills to achieve perfection in playing carrom. I took it up as a challenge and just practiced till I could lift my finger no more,” states Metrani.
In time, he was participating in open tournaments and even won a couple of championships in 1991-92. These wins were the rare silver lining in an otherwise dark life.
“When opponents with two hands lose to me, they feel real bad,” he says with a laugh. As Metrani adjusts a button on his shirt efficiently with his solitary finger, he remembers another anecdote, “Sandeep Patil, the famous Indian Cricketer saw me play once at Shivaji Park. I had no idea who he was or even that he was observing my game but he left behind Rs.1,000 as gift to me.”
Metrani holds several records of finishing the game from break-to-finish along with gold and silver medals felicitating him as a state champion.
Labor omnia vincit
Metrani, along with his wife and two sons, Hemant (12) and Tushar (10), sees life as an opportunity rather than challenge.
“Nowadays, I read almost every other day that some youth has committed suicide or that a family consumed poison while under debt. To me this seems very awful. People around the world are losing hope. They are scared to even try and push themselves to their limits and fight against the problems. My son had a lesson on the famous dancer Sudha Chandran who lost her leg and still managed to become a world renowned classical dancer,” said Metrani.
With hard work you can conquer all that you want, directs Metrani.
When his sons were about to go to school, Metrani not only sold vegetables but also milk to provide for their education fees.
“For us, our father is the greatest hero. We have seen him struggle for us and even with his condition he always has a smile on his face that gives us hope. We thank God everyday that in our father he gave us our teacher, our hero and our inspiration,” said Tushar.
Balancing life on one finger
With his condition and his age, Metrani has, time and again, pleaded with the state to grant him some form of work.
“All I want is for my sons to have proper education. The cost of education has sky-rocketed and sadly, I am falling short in my ability to support my kids. My family has helped me through thick and thin, all I plead now for is an opportunity,” says Metrani with tears in his eyes.
Like Lord Krishna who balanced the massive mount Govardhan on his little finger, Metrani has been balancing his life, his family and his game successfully and without any remorse.
“With hard work, you can conquer all that you want, but people feel afraid and rely too much on others to get their work done.”