“I am not a great cook, but I often ask my wife ‘What’s cooking?’ I love food and I have a great liking for continental cuisine. It helped me while playing abroad, where fellow shuttlers would miss Indian food,” says Dinesh Khanna, the only Indian badminton player to have won the Asian championship.
Khanna, 72, still loves his continental platter. And quickly settles for the classical pasta with red sauce accompanied by crispy breads and a glass of lemon juice, served in the lively ambience of The Mist, a popular restaurant inside The Park at Connaught Place.
“Continental food is not very heavy like Indian food,” a super fit Khanna remarks. Of course, Khanna, known for his infallible endurance on badminton court, is the best man to speak about fitness.
Khanna’s pleasing and soft-spoken personality masks his strong will power and never-ending stamina. “Obeying my mother's advice, I used to breath only through my nose. That used to amaze my opponents. Later, I learnt that breathing through the mouth helped as one could inhale more oxygen.”
Khanna, hailing from Fatehgarh Churian near Amritsar, has several fascinating tales –– how he got inspired by his brother, who was 19 years older than him, to take up badminton, how he saved his pocket money (Rs.2 per week) to hold a prize money tournament for his 10-12-year-old friends and how a one-sided loss to P.P.S. Chawla shattered his false sense of superiority.
“I thought I was good enough for my age group. But when Chawla, who used to occasionally train under his uncle and international player P.S. Chawla, beat me hands down, I realised that I needed to seriously work on my game.”
Khanna was a self-made player and at a time when Indian shuttlers were known for their attacking game, he made his mark by relying on his solid defence and unmatched endurance. His famous backhand was a weapon developed by himself. “I saw World No. 5 Nandu Natekar and World No. 8 T.N. Seth playing a great National championship final and I was fascinated with their backhand shots and was determined to develop mine as well.
“My friend, Om Wadhwa, got a book by Ken Davidson and we followed tips from that book to perfect our backhand.” Once a sports commentator asked Khanna how he could emerge as a defensive shuttler in an era of attacking players. “I told him, ‘If Gandhiji and Nehruji could win us freedom through non-violence, why cannot I win matches through my non-violent style of play’?”
The delicious pasta engaged his attention. But he is on a memory trip. Khanna, in the golden jubilee year of his 1965 Asian title triumph in Lucknow, recalls the incident as if it happened yesterday. “I had a knee surgery in 1964 and during the rehab I put weights on my legs and did the exercise of raising my legs from the ground level. It not only strengthened my knees, but also built my core muscles.
“I returned to action after almost two years. Even though I was unseeded, I had a good outing. Before the final I met the great hockey player, K.D. Singh Babu, and after shaking hands with him I thought, ‘If he can be a world class player, I can at least be the best in Asia.’ There were no nerves but there was a sense of responsibility. This was the biggest title for me. I had won the Punjab state title prior to this. Amidst thunderous applause, I felt awkward to acknowledge the public.”
“It was November 14 –– the first birth anniversary of Pandit Jawaharlal Nehru following his death. So, it became more special.” Khanna, also a Commonwealth Games and Asian Games bronze medallist, is happy to see the overall progress of the sport. “This is the golden period of Indian badminton. We never had a time when so many players were ranked among the top in the world.” Khanna defeated Yoshinori Itaguki, Suresh Goel before beating Sangol Rattanusora of Thailand in straight set (15-3, 15-11) in the finals.
Khanna, a qualified engineer, however, feels that parents should not put undue pressure on kids. “My parents never expected anything from me and I did well in studies as well as sport,” says Khanna, who coaches children at the Siri Fort Academy in Delhi.
Our conversation can go on and on. But the pasta on the plate has vanished. It is time to say goodbye to the legend.
