With Vikram commencing his army career in distant Sopore, I want to digress a bit and introspect on the dynamics in Palampur that shaped both his ambition and prowess, enabling him to sustain himself physically and mentally in the extraordinarily challenging mission that he was about to embark upon as an armyman. And one of the key contributors in this journey of grit and strength was his competence in sports.

In fact, both Vikram and I were very keen sportspersons. From an early age, we became proficient in playing table tennis, which along with cricket, was a very popular sport in Palampur those days. Our rendezvous with table tennis began at an early age – we were in the fifth standard when we joined the Palampur Club to play the game regularly.

The only constraint was that since there was only one club in Palampur equipped with only one table, and at least fifteen to twenty aspiring players visiting the club on a normal day, each player had to patiently queue up for his turn, getting the opportunity to play only one game during the evening.

Our fascination for the game grew in direct proportion to our increasing expertise in it, so much so that every single day after returning from school, we would rush to finish our homework and then race to the club to catch our turn at the table. However, being the hard taskmaster that he was, our father had laid down very strict instructions – post our studies, we could only indulge in one leisure activity, either playing table tennis or watching TV, for a maximum of two hours per day. And we usually chose to play table tennis throughout the week, and watch movies or the serials Param Vir Chakra and Fauji on TV at our neighbours’ house over weekends.

Although we became adroit players, initially we could only afford inexpensive bats, and had to keep imploring Dad to help us upgrade our bats, to which his response was that we should first master the game thoroughly before incurring any major expense on the equipment. Fortunately, our transition from DAV Public School to Kendriya Vidyalaya, Palampur, helped boost our exposure to the sport phenomenally, and after having played consistently for almost four years, we became famous as the “unbeatable duo” in school. I daresay that we didn’t miss a single private or club-level table tennis tournament in Palampur, and by the end of our schooldays, we had accumulated a substantial collection of trophies and an equal measure of confidence that distinguishes winners from the ‘also-rans’.

By the time we reached the Kangra district-level junior championship for the first time in 1988, one of our classmates, Sunny, had joined us in the list of school champions, with Vikram becoming the district champion and gold medallist, and Sunny and me following with my silver and his bronze – a remarkable feat for Palampur, which grabbed all three medals in the face of strict competition from almost 200 contestants who had converged there from various parts of the state.

Gradually, we even succeeded in overcoming Dad’s recalcitrance, persuading him to buy us the upgraded table tennis bats, a decision that he had been hedging for long. So, we carried an extra armour of confidence and swagger along with our high-end Shield bats as we traversed to the club to practise for the forthcoming tournaments. Our efforts bore rich results, culminating in our selection for the regional, followed by the zonal tournament, with Vikram and Sunny even making it to the national-level Kendriya Vidyalaya Sangathan tournament in 1990.

The story of selections for the table tennis nationals is as heartbreaking as that of our subsequent SSB interviews. Vikram and I were pitched against each other in the quarter-finals, in which I lost to him, whereas he went on to play the national tournament in Meenambakkam, Chennai. The pride and joy over his achievement was tinged with sadness, as providentially Vikram had to defeat me of all people in the run-up to the nationals! The only consolation was that regardless of who won, Vikram or Vishal, the trophy would come home to the same place.

Thereafter, in 1991, we repeated our individual outstanding performances, and again won the school, regional and zonal level tournaments. But that year, I was in top form, and the only one among the three of us (Vikram, Sunny and me) to be selected for the nationals. Simultaneously, I was also slated to play the inter-house championships in school that year, which happened to be our last year in school. As fate would have it, Vikram and I were again pitched against each other in the semifinals. Meanwhile, Sunny had arrogantly challenged that he would arrest Vikram’s unbroken record of winning the school trophy for four years running, not letting him win the tournament this year at any cost.

Each one among the three of us was also keen to represent the school at the national level, as that brought another reward – the opportunity to get one’s name inscribed on the Honour Board of the school. Even today, when I visit my school, I feel an immense sense of self-fulfilment on seeing my name on two Honour Boards of the school for representing the school in the table tennis national tournament, and for being the Boy Captain of the school, an honour that was granted to me by the principal and the School Committee in the academic year 1991–92. The names of Vikram and Sunny, on the other hand, are engraved on the Sports Honour Board.

Coming back to the school house competition, Sunny was secretly quite pleased that Vikram and I had to face each other in the semi-finals, which could neutralise Vikram’s attempt to carry home the trophy. The matter became even more knotty when Vikram approached me with an unusual request. ‘You know that Sunny has challenged my potential victory this year. If you win our match, I will not be able to reach the finals and Sunny will win his challenge. But I entreat you to prevent that possibility by deliberately losing the match against me so that I can reach the final and beat Sunny. Will you step up to support your brother?’ was his plea.

Our unspoken promise to always have each other’s back led me to agree to Vikram’s entreaty without a word of protest, purposely underplaying and losing the match against my brother. Annoyed at this outcome, and also realising that it was part of the plan Vikram and I had hatched, Sunny came to me and said, “Kush, your decision to lose the match was not the right thing to do. It was unethical on your part to have intentionally engineered your defeat.” Trying to play down my loss – pun intended – I responded, “Sunny, what is your issue? You have challenged Vikram, so you should be happy to get an opportunity to fructify your challenge by being able to play against Vikram in the finals.”

Eventually, the final match between Vikram and Sunny turned out to be an unforgettable contest. The hype around the match resulted in more than 40% of the school students turning up to cheer for the two master sportsmen among their peers. Vikram won the first two games of this final match being played in the “best of five” format, but lost the next two games. And as the score was poised at 15-all in the fifth game, Sunny took the next five points on a trot, now leading at 20-15, needing just two more points to wrap up the game and win both the tournament and his challenge against Vikram. But I was fuming and went up to Vikram and gave him a dressing down. “I deliberately lost my semi-final against you just so that you could reach the final and win the tournament. But here you are, ready to lose the match and render my sacrifice pointless. This is totally unacceptable,” I hissed at him.

My fury must have hit the right target, as Vikram suddenly came into his own, played like a man possessed and went on to secure the next seven points, eventually winning the match 22-20, and grabbing the trophy for the fifth year running. Not only did Vikram mesmerise the audience with his performance, but he ensured that this was etched in the memory of every spectator as one of the finest and most closely fought table tennis tournaments ever played in the history of the school.

Notwithstanding our love for table tennis, Vikram and I actively participated in other sports too, including badminton, sprints (100 m, 200 m), in which I was a silver medallist, and relays (400 m X 2). In fact, on sports day in the school, we had a private contest of our own to decide who would take the maximum trophies home on that day.

Excerpted with permission from Yeh Dil Maange More: Remembering Captain Vikram Batra, My Brother, Vishal Batra with Anupam Mehta, Penguin India.

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