When India last visited Pakistan to play tennis, it was Spring of 1964

The last tango: Friday the 13th. On that supposedly inauspicious date, back in 1964, India kicked off the second of her two away ties against Pakistan in Lahore.
That was more than five decades ago, when the grass was green and the weather fair. Mahesh Bhupathi’s India is scheduled to face Pakistan in the Davis Cup Group One play-offs at the Sports Complex in Islamabad next month, but whether the visiting side will cross the border for only the third time in this rivalry, is still up in the air.
In a simmering political climate, with the All India Tennis Association hoping to shift the September 14-15 tie to a neutral venue, it’s as good a time as any to revisit the clash of 55 years ago.
A comparatively light-weight side led by the charismatic Premjit Lall came away with a 4-0 win in friendly conditions in 1964. Lall, the playing captain, along with Akhtar Ali and Shiv Prakash Misra, were the three-man, no-frills team for India. No coach, no physio, much less a masseur. At a time when everything was in short supply, their baggage too weighed next to nothing.
Lall, who passed away over a decade ago, when a little short of his 70th birthday, wore different hats that weekend – coach, captain and player. The Kolkatan was handed the reins when Ramanathan Krishnan, ranked as high as No. 6 in the world at his peak, and the other Kolkatan, Jaideep Mukerjea, pulled out with injuries.
Akhtar, whose play revolved around an adventurous use of the court, put up his hand for selection when he won a pre-tie tournament in Jaipur.
“A lot of foreigners played in India those days,” Akhtar, 80, tells TOI from Kolkata. “In Krishnan, Mukerjea and Lall, we had very good players. I was playing good too. The competition in our tournaments was strong. The win in Jaipur ensured my selection to the squad. I was the in-form player in the side, it gave me a lot of confidence. Still, I was nervous; playing for your country is different from playing any other tournament.”

They travelled light those days, compact kit bags and few necessities.
“Each of us had two wooden racquets, one that we were playing with, and a spare one. The brand I used was Slazenger. I had two sets of match gear, shorts and tees,” he said. Akhtar had got them at Wimbledon the previous year, when he had qualified for the main draw. “It was Fred Perry, white,” he tells you with quiet pride.
Misra, who went on to accumulate a 13-1 win-loss record in singles in Cup play, was featuring in just his second tie at the time. The youngest of the trio, he had used his Dunlop stick with precision to win both his matches against Ceylon in his debut outing.
Akhtar, who twice qualified for Wimbledon, recalled that the team arrived in Lahore a couple of days before the tie. “I can’t remember the exact day, it was a long time ago, but we were there early. We had a few practices on the grass before the start,” he says.
“As we were without Krishnan and Mukerjea, the hosts thought they could win the tie. Krishnan and Premjit had taken India to an emphatic win only two years earlier in Lahore. I remember there was a grand pre-tie dinner at the Lahore Club, the crowd was big. They were very confident. Their best player (Munir Pirzada) had beaten me earlier in the year, they thought they’d beat Akhtar and win the tie,” the Kolkatan recalls.
“Many people told Premjit not to play me in the singles, but he didn’t listen to them. I’m glad I didn’t disappoint him, I played the best tennis of my life, won all my matches.
“The association didn’t give us much those days. We got blue blazers, I don’t think we got anything else. We were also given a small amount of money as daily allowance. I think it was 20 Rupees. That was a lot of money in that time. But for us, it was bigger to play for the country,” Akhtar emphasises. “I didn’t play competitively for much longer after that tie. I started coaching.”
In 1969, Lall was on course to become one of tennis’ biggest dream-wreckers, leading Aussie legend Rod Laver by two sets-to-love in the Wimbledon second round. Laver recovered to claim his second Grand Slam that year. In Lahore in 1964, Lall played one match, the singles on the opening day.
Misra, now 77 and from Hyderabad, won the first of the reverse singles in the visiting side’s triumph in Lahore. Much later, when in his 70s, he took over the reins as non-playing captain of the Indian team.
“One of the first things that struck me about Lahore was the similarity. I remember thinking this is like anywhere in India. We stayed at the Faletti’s Hotel,” the affable Hyderabadi reminisces. “I don’t think I had Fred Perry clothes for that tie, I got them later. I carried the sweater my mother had knitted for me. The shorts were stitched by a local tailor, my shoes were from Bata.”
Misra gained from his association with the late Ghaus Mohammad, the first Indian to reach the Wimbledon quarterfinals in 1939.
He took pains to underline that those days were different. “It was a quiet time, hardly any publicity. We went quietly, did our jobs and came back,” Misra says. He carried his two Dunlop racquets, which he got strung in Pune for Rs 5, and little else for the trip across the border.
“Although we played the tie on grass, there wasn’t so much power in the game at that time. For me, grass was a little tough to adjust to initially because in the south there wasn’t much opportunity to play on grass courts.
“But the game wasn’t so physical those days and adjusting was easier.”
Akhtar and Misra agree that the trip was an enjoyable experience. “Everyone was very friendly on that tour, and we were treated very well,” Akhtar says. “We were well looked after. It was the same when they came to India, they were well looked after too.”
Akhtar remembers that after the team emerged victorious, Lall and he took off on a trek to the food street at Anarkali Bazaar. “They were supposed to have the best kebabs and we wanted to taste some. The people were excited to see us. The food was excellent. When we got up to pay, they refused to take money. They told us we are their guests.”
The taste of those succulent kebabs is long forgotten, but the flavor of that tie is still alive.