- Faisal Shariff

Some blame circumstances. Others look inward to seek the flaw, then try and do something about it. Judging by the evidence, Debashish Mohanty would seem to belong to the latter breed.

It is now five years since he made his Test debut against Sri Lanka in Colombo (in the process, becoming the first Test cricketer from Orissa), and yet the twentyfour-year-old pace bowler has played two Tests, and bowled 430 deliveries, since 1997.

In fact, it is debatable whether he would have become the focus of media interest at this point, had it not been for that ten-wicket haul against South Zone in the Duleep Trophy game. It is amazing, really, what a difference a performance like that makes -- before he single-handedly destroyed the South Zone innings, he was an also-ran. After that performance, he finds himself in the probables to face Australia, with a very good chance of making the final cut.

The Perfect Ten Debashish Mohanty on the amazing feat South Zone vs. East Zone D. Mohanty : 19-5-46-10

It couldn't have happened to a nicer guy, really.

We met up with Mohanty a week ago in Pune, when East Zone played West in a dead rubber of the Duleep Trophy. We offer congratulations, he flashes that trademark smile.

"I didn’t even think of it," he recalls. "I had seven wickets at lunch. Then Shiv (Shiv Sunder Das) came to me and reminded me that I could go for all ten."

You would expect the feat to have been widely acknowledged. But, no. That is not how it works here. "I think the Orissa Cricket Association announced a reward of Rs 25,000, but I am not sure," he says. None from the BCCI called or sent congratulatory messages. The selectors, other than picking him in the list of probables, did not feel it incumbent on them to call with words of felicitation and encouragement. None of his former team-mates from the national squad called to congratulate him.

"I guess I am back in the reckoning now," he says, the words slow, deliberate. He reckons that he doesn't stand much of a chance of making the team to play against Australia, but refuses to roll over and play dead. "My chance will come. I am confident that I will succeed," he adds.

Makes you wonder what goes on in his mind. Does he figure that the selectors have given him the rough end of the stick? For instance, we point out, Ajit Agarkar has had an extended run in the side, whereas Mohanty has never really been given a decent trot.

The question, posed to any of the other medium pacers who are now on the sidelines, would have produced on record disclaimers and off record gripes about how the selectors had it in for them. But not, to our surprise, Debashish. "Agarkar has proved himself," he says, firmly. "Which other bowler has claimed 50 wickets in his first 23 games? Why should he be blamed? I would rather blame myself, that I couldn’t grab my chance the way he did when he got it. And he has been bowling well."

That sums up Debashish -- no matter what, he will smile; no matter what, he will refuse to blame anyone other than himself. And, no matter what, he will believe -- with a belief you cannot shake -- that he will get what he deserves.

It is, when you consider all that goes into it, a wonderful smile.

So what does he do when he is not playing cricket for the national team? Mohanty is employed as section manager in the Bhubaneshwar-based company Nelco. He draws Rs 11,000 as monthly salary. And has gone four years without a promotion.

"It is frustrating," he shrugs. "I know that we aren’t supposed to go to office every day, but it still hurts that not a single promotion has come my way." And then the smile breaks through again. "It is okay, really, the salary I draw is enough to sustain me and my family."

And that is really saying something -- Mohanty is the only earning member in a family consisting of father (retired section officer in the state government), mother, and three sisters.

So what, we ask, is left? Where does he go from here? What does he see, when he scans the horizon seeking his own personal goal?

He gets up, and wanders off to the window. And he stands there, back to us, looking out. There is silence in the room -- and if you listen carefully to that silence, you hear the hunger of a man who is hoping, desperately, for that one chance. A chance that came his way once and slipped out of his hands, a chance he hopes will come his way again, to clutch on to with both hands and never let go.

It's quite a while before he turns, and returns to his seat.

"There is nothing much I can do," he says, softly. "I practise, and I am listening to my heart which tells me I will get that chance. I can only play well, and pray hard, and hope I make it some day."

Interviews

Mail Cricket Editor