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A tell-tale nylon net and the Chanderpaul backwaters
Sunday April 1, 04:03 AM
As another crisp drive from 12-year-old Brandon Chanderpaul spills out of the nylon net and rolls on the cemented front porch towards his grandfather Khemraj, a toothless smile dawns on the sun-beaten wrinkly face. The famous name that connects the two on the family tree isn't present at the in-house net session. You see him on television, fighting a losing battle against the New Zealanders in a World Cup game. But Shivnarine's presence is always there at his family home with uneven architecture - the result of a gradual construction update, not a plinth-to-roof planned effort. A Man of the Match prize car squats uncomfortably in the congested porch that has three miniature shivlings on a corner platform. Two hammocks hang nearby, almost encroaching on Brandon's play-zone. But one thing hasn't changed, from the mud house that Shiv grew up in, to the comfortable villa that Brandon is in today. It's the nylon net. It has only re-defined itself.
Khemraj and his forefathers used the net to fish. Today it spills out balls that Brandon hits as the Chanderpauls transformed themselves from modest fisher folk to an elite cricketing family with a former West Indian captain. This happens to be one of the several success stories in the Unity Village, just an hour's bumpy drive down narrow dirt tracks from Georgetown. For most living in the impressive wooden houses on stilts, dangerously close to the Atlantic Sea, tracing their roots means going back to 1834 when 414 indentured labourers landed in Guyana to work on sugarcane plantations. Over the years, the Indo-Guyanese community has steadily climbed the social ladder. For example that boy, Bharrat Jagdeo, one is told, who used to live a stone's throw from the Chanderpaul house - and way inferior to Shiv as a cricketer - is the president of the country.
Our first destination in Unity Village is Beer Garden, also close to where Brandon is knocking the ball. The owner of the place - a pretty lady with Portuguese blood, Annalee - is Shiv's first wife, and mother of his only child. She talks about his estranged husband's early days of hardship before directing us to his in-laws' place. The news has been relayed, and grandfather and grandson, bare-chested, are at the gate. Pleasantries exchanged, it is time to talk about the most likeable cricketer across the West Indies. (It's an eye-opener for any outsider that Brian Lara doesn't quite enjoy that status). It's strange to notice that Khemraj's conversation revolves around Shiv only when he is talking in past tense. When it comes to the present, it's always about Brandon. The club cricketer with a deep knowledge of the game relishes talking about the days of grooming his son and the 'work in progress' grandson. Ask him if Shiv, who spends most of his time in Miami with his second wife, happens to drop in at Unity Village often and a monosyllabic "sometimes" barely escapes from his mouth. He soon switches to the early chapter of the story, one about a young boy with prodigious cricketing talent. He also loved to accompany his father to sea in his free time. But those were rare instances.
Unity Village was more familiar with the sight of father and son moving towards a cricket field, not to a fishing trawler. An abandoned building close by worked as indoor nets. "I used to give him throw downs, but the concrete walls took a big toll on the balls. Those days the balls were not just expensive, but also tough to avail," says Khemraj. The sight of a box full of balls of different colours and variety lying close to where Brandon is batting highlights the financial change that has come by. Shiv's stance as the junior cricketer wasn't so prominently square on, according to Khemraj, but that was something he developed over the years. Though Brandon's diagonally split legs when facing the underarm bowling in his courtyard makes the question 'who is he imitating' quite irrelevant. "When he was very young, Shiv asked him to switch as a left-hander. And I saw to it that Brandon can throw with both his arms," says Khemraj. Suddenly, one ends up gazing at the bony youngster, hoping to catch some deep insight into the rather ordinary looking expansive drive with the optimism of being one among the first few to spot the future ambidextrous prodigy so early. It is tough to decide if it is the loving grandfather talking or a coach with a sharp eye when Khemraj says how Brandon just the other day scored a brilliant 60 plus score against a second division team and adds: "He is better than what Shiv was at this age." If it's the coach talking, a trip down memory lane at Unity Village is a certainty for one when Brandon makes it big, besides, there will be a lot to look forward to for West Indies cricket.
Shiv's rise from a promising cricketer to an internationally proven star was the fastest. Khemraj switches to flashback. "I used to take Shiv along to watch big cricket at Georgetown. I once saw that Indian leggie Chandrasekhar who was here for a club game," he says. In one club game, featuring West Indian captain Carl Hooper, the father asked his son to watch closely. "I told him try to play like these players, they have international class," he recalls. It seems Shiv didn't bat an eyelid, soaked in everything he saw. In a few years he was rubbing shoulders with Hooper and was involved in a record-breaking stand with him in a Test match too. By now Brandon has left the bat and is beside his grandfather. The boy hasn't spoken a word since this untimely intrusion. Very typical of his age, he stares at his feet whenever his names gets mentioned, but is wide-eyed when talk drifts to his father. As one leaves and throws a final glance at the Chanderpaul home, the sight of two bare-chested, just in shorts, figures separated by a generation and nylon net in the background plays tricks with the mind. Temporarily they would pass off as fisher folk ready to start their day's work. That's when one realises that the nylon net is no longer used to catch fish but to spill out balls and the man who redesigned its more profitable use isn't there in the frame.
Sunday April 1, 04:03 AM
As another crisp drive from 12-year-old Brandon Chanderpaul spills out of the nylon net and rolls on the cemented front porch towards his grandfather Khemraj, a toothless smile dawns on the sun-beaten wrinkly face. The famous name that connects the two on the family tree isn't present at the in-house net session. You see him on television, fighting a losing battle against the New Zealanders in a World Cup game. But Shivnarine's presence is always there at his family home with uneven architecture - the result of a gradual construction update, not a plinth-to-roof planned effort. A Man of the Match prize car squats uncomfortably in the congested porch that has three miniature shivlings on a corner platform. Two hammocks hang nearby, almost encroaching on Brandon's play-zone. But one thing hasn't changed, from the mud house that Shiv grew up in, to the comfortable villa that Brandon is in today. It's the nylon net. It has only re-defined itself.
Khemraj and his forefathers used the net to fish. Today it spills out balls that Brandon hits as the Chanderpauls transformed themselves from modest fisher folk to an elite cricketing family with a former West Indian captain. This happens to be one of the several success stories in the Unity Village, just an hour's bumpy drive down narrow dirt tracks from Georgetown. For most living in the impressive wooden houses on stilts, dangerously close to the Atlantic Sea, tracing their roots means going back to 1834 when 414 indentured labourers landed in Guyana to work on sugarcane plantations. Over the years, the Indo-Guyanese community has steadily climbed the social ladder. For example that boy, Bharrat Jagdeo, one is told, who used to live a stone's throw from the Chanderpaul house - and way inferior to Shiv as a cricketer - is the president of the country.
Our first destination in Unity Village is Beer Garden, also close to where Brandon is knocking the ball. The owner of the place - a pretty lady with Portuguese blood, Annalee - is Shiv's first wife, and mother of his only child. She talks about his estranged husband's early days of hardship before directing us to his in-laws' place. The news has been relayed, and grandfather and grandson, bare-chested, are at the gate. Pleasantries exchanged, it is time to talk about the most likeable cricketer across the West Indies. (It's an eye-opener for any outsider that Brian Lara doesn't quite enjoy that status). It's strange to notice that Khemraj's conversation revolves around Shiv only when he is talking in past tense. When it comes to the present, it's always about Brandon. The club cricketer with a deep knowledge of the game relishes talking about the days of grooming his son and the 'work in progress' grandson. Ask him if Shiv, who spends most of his time in Miami with his second wife, happens to drop in at Unity Village often and a monosyllabic "sometimes" barely escapes from his mouth. He soon switches to the early chapter of the story, one about a young boy with prodigious cricketing talent. He also loved to accompany his father to sea in his free time. But those were rare instances.
Unity Village was more familiar with the sight of father and son moving towards a cricket field, not to a fishing trawler. An abandoned building close by worked as indoor nets. "I used to give him throw downs, but the concrete walls took a big toll on the balls. Those days the balls were not just expensive, but also tough to avail," says Khemraj. The sight of a box full of balls of different colours and variety lying close to where Brandon is batting highlights the financial change that has come by. Shiv's stance as the junior cricketer wasn't so prominently square on, according to Khemraj, but that was something he developed over the years. Though Brandon's diagonally split legs when facing the underarm bowling in his courtyard makes the question 'who is he imitating' quite irrelevant. "When he was very young, Shiv asked him to switch as a left-hander. And I saw to it that Brandon can throw with both his arms," says Khemraj. Suddenly, one ends up gazing at the bony youngster, hoping to catch some deep insight into the rather ordinary looking expansive drive with the optimism of being one among the first few to spot the future ambidextrous prodigy so early. It is tough to decide if it is the loving grandfather talking or a coach with a sharp eye when Khemraj says how Brandon just the other day scored a brilliant 60 plus score against a second division team and adds: "He is better than what Shiv was at this age." If it's the coach talking, a trip down memory lane at Unity Village is a certainty for one when Brandon makes it big, besides, there will be a lot to look forward to for West Indies cricket.
Shiv's rise from a promising cricketer to an internationally proven star was the fastest. Khemraj switches to flashback. "I used to take Shiv along to watch big cricket at Georgetown. I once saw that Indian leggie Chandrasekhar who was here for a club game," he says. In one club game, featuring West Indian captain Carl Hooper, the father asked his son to watch closely. "I told him try to play like these players, they have international class," he recalls. It seems Shiv didn't bat an eyelid, soaked in everything he saw. In a few years he was rubbing shoulders with Hooper and was involved in a record-breaking stand with him in a Test match too. By now Brandon has left the bat and is beside his grandfather. The boy hasn't spoken a word since this untimely intrusion. Very typical of his age, he stares at his feet whenever his names gets mentioned, but is wide-eyed when talk drifts to his father. As one leaves and throws a final glance at the Chanderpaul home, the sight of two bare-chested, just in shorts, figures separated by a generation and nylon net in the background plays tricks with the mind. Temporarily they would pass off as fisher folk ready to start their day's work. That's when one realises that the nylon net is no longer used to catch fish but to spill out balls and the man who redesigned its more profitable use isn't there in the frame.
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