Bishan Bedi’s favourite word — and one which he personified — was “integrity.” The last time we met, at his farmhouse near Delhi where I stayed for a day, Bedi was recovering from a surgery. He had slowed down, yet he hadn’t lost his sense of mischief. The great communicator was frustrated that his speech couldn’t keep up with his thoughts. “I am exercising more now than I did in my playing days,” he said. The familiar guffaw followed.
Bedi’s integrity, his insistence on calling a spade by its name and his abiding respect for the game often got him into trouble. He always spoke his mind; diplomacy was an alien concept. Yet, even if you didn’t agree with him, you knew his ideas came from a place of purity and concern.
Bedi was a traditionalist who was anti-establishment. The contradiction is explained by the fact that he served cricket, not its administrators or those using it as a means to an end.
