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SPORTS: FOOTBALL
New Roles, New Goals
Footballer I.M. Vijayan's outstanding film debut begins
a new chapter of a life less ordinary
By Stephen David
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| ROLE MODEL: Vijayan (left) is
a relaxed new entrant into the world of cinema following his assured
debut in Shantham (above) along with co-stars Lalitha (left)
and Seema Biswas |
There's a story
about footballer I.M. Vijayan which describes the man and the power of
his personality like little else can. He once sauntered out of a Kerala
hotel to run an errand and rather than look for transport, flagged down
the first passing motorcyclist. Witnesses say the man stopped, delight
spread across his face and after a brief conversation with the footballer,
handed over his bike to Vijayan who zoomed away. The biker stood by the
road for the next half hour or so, his smile only growing larger until
Vijayan returned, expressed his gratitude, handed over the motorcycle
and shook hands. Chances are the man hasn't washed his
hands or his bike since.
Meet Invalappil Mani Vijayan, who can be celebrity
and common man all at the same instant. Not just a phenomenon in the sometimes
forgotten world of Indian football but also a man of extraordinary parts
who has gone from being an impoverished school dropout to darling of his
home state, captain of his country and, now, critically acclaimed actor.
Today Vijayan, 32, called the Black Pearl of Indian football, is also
the country's seniormost player, the scorer of the fastest goal in international
soccer (yes, the fastest ever, inside of 12 seconds, at the 1990 SAF Games
versus a hapless Bhutan), the scorer of the most goals for India in international
competition and-in a masterful pivot straight out of footballing midfield-one
of the chief protagonists in Shantham, winner of the National Award for
Best Picture.
It is a performance which won Vijayan a state
award for Best New Face and was described by Kerala's seniormost film
critic Kozhikkodan in Malayalam magazine Mathrubhumi as one which "magnificently
expressed the internal conflicts and guilt-ridden psyche of the character,
Velayudhan". In Shantham, Vijayan plays a villager who kills his
best friend due to a bitter political rivalry and deals with the consequences
of his crime as an angst-ridden fugitive. As the embarrassing efforts
of Messers Durrani and Gavaskar prove, Shantham is far more complicated
turf than that tread on by other sportsmen on celluloid. Director P. Jayaraj
says he chose Vijayan after the two of them shared a dais as chief guests
at a public function, not because he was celebrity but because he looked
like Everyman. "Vijayan has an international face. No one can say
which country he belongs to-this was what attracted me most," says
Jayaraj.
It is a remarkable face, swarthy, pock-marked
and with a life of struggle written all over it. Were his life to be written
as a feature film, its improbable script would swiftly be tossed into
a bin.
As the son of farmhands he scribbled the name
"Pele" in school books and sold soda and bidis during football
games at the Municipal Stadium in Thrissur. After the death of his father
in an accident, his mother worked as a scrap collector and the family
lived in a hut outside the stadium. Vijayan played soccer with other street
kids, using a ball made of cloth rags. It is a past he is unashamed of
and talks of unselfconsciously, "Food was difficult. We survived
on kanji (watery rice) and soup. I earned Rs 10 a day selling soda in
the stadium, but it gave me a chance to watch football from close quarters."
The name Pele struck a chord with Vijayan not just because the Brazilian
played the most sublime soccer seen by the world. "Someone told me
how he had pulled himself out of poverty through football-he became a
model for me." A kindly coach, Jose Parambu, sent the 13-year-old
Vijayan to a children's football camp where he got his first pair of sports
shoes and joined the state-funded youth soccer programme.
As a teenager he was spotted by the Kerala Police
team coach who cut through red tape and recruited the drop-out into the
team and into the major league of national football. When Vijayan received
his pay cheque as a soccer-playing constable it was the first time anyone
in his family had brought home a regular salary. "I was so overcome
with joy, I ended up crying." He was instrumental in Kerala Police
winning the Federation Cup and Kerala the Santosh Trophy, and his elevation
into the Indian team followed in natural progression. Clubs from outside
the state wooed the fearsome striker and in turn he played for Calcutta's
Mohun Bagan and Phagwara's JCT Mills; when the big-money boom came to
football in 1998, Vijayan was paid close to Rs 20 lakh a year to pull
on the Bagan jersey yet again, one of the most expensive players. He has
since returned home to Kerala and plays with India's first professional
club, FC Kochin.
He now lives in Thrissur with his mother, wife
and three children in a house that has become a local landmark-of the
kind that requires no directions other than the mere mention of the man
who owns it. Once only local aristocracy and moneyed professionals could
live in the neighbourhood. Vijayan is delighted that football has made
him a little bit of both. "Football has given me everything-money,
a home, even the chance to be an actor and learn something new."
His second feature film will be released in May.
For the moment it is back to football, joining
ranks with his Sikkimese striking partner Baichung Bhutia as India begins
its six-week-long campaign in the World Cup qualifiers on April 8. Indian
football doesn't attract hype any longer but its faithful still gather
and count the blessings of individual brilliance. The connoisseurs describe
Vijayan as an all-round footballer, one who can set up a move as cleanly
as he cuts off defenders with sharp receiving and trapping, and a daring
striker who will dive into a jungle of boots that could split open his
skull to head home a goal. P.K. Banerjee, a part of the legendary 1962
forward line which won India the gold at the Asian Games, pays poetic
tribute: "Vijayan plays football like a village nightingale sings,
like a folk singer does, in his own tune ... a natural. He is one of the
best strikers produced by India."
The I.M. Vijayan Sports Foundation is the striker's
latest venture. "It is something that I missed when I grew up. I
received a lot of support and it is payback time," he says. The foundation
has 30 boys in its care and the coaching staff consists of former internationals
Subhas Bhowmik and Xavier Pius. Bhowmik is delighted, "This is one
of its kind for an Indian footballer. Vijayan is working hard, even putting
in his own money." Vijayan no longer worries about money and the
foundation has one clear motive, "Now I want to do something for
the poor boys out there."
He may not realise it but he already has. For
every poor boy who grows up in the dust, kicking a ball or hitting it
with bat or stick or just running and dreaming of a future among the stars,
I.M. Vijayan's life and career is like a giant neon sign. It is a sign
that says anything is possible.
-with M.G. Radhakrishnan
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