A Joseph Antony / The Hindu

Hyderabad, May 4: From fleet-footed forward to pitiable pensioner, the wheel's come a full circle for Mohamed Zulfakaruddin. A member of India's football team that made the 1956 Melbourne Olympics semifinals, he survives in a rented Secunderabad house, unknown and unsung.

One bid for recognition found no takers at the Sports Authority of Andhra Pradesh (SAAP) office recently. Nobody believed he was an Olympian. An official issued an application form, more out of sympathy for the septuagenarian. Footwork for the proforma over, the frail former footballer began paper-work for an Arjuna Lifetime or Dronacharya award.

Left out

Mohamed Habeeb and Yousuf Khan, who played under him, received the Arjuna Award, while Syed Nayeemuddin was also awarded the Dronacharya. Strangely, Zulfakar, AP's captain from 1958 to 66 — the game's golden era that saw the Bengal bastion breached - never figured in any honours list.

On the field an inside-left, he's been left out by fame and fortune, but for the rare foray to the fore, when giving away prizes at some local tournament. His face lights up when there's interest in his football feats. "When AP won the 1963-64 Pentangular tournament in Ceylon, I received the trophy from FIFA's President then, Sir Stanley Rous himself, " he recalls. So did he figure in India's runner-up finish at Kuala Lumpur in the 1959 Merdeka Cup.

Feted by half a dozen heads of State, from President Rajendra Prasad to Shankar Dayal Sharma, Zulfakar also led the Central Police Lines (CPL) team for over a decade, the said side boasting half a dozen Olympians! To this day, old-timers remember his solitary goal in 1966 that fetched AP the Santosh Trophy for the first time.

Dodging the legendary Jarnail Singh, Bengal's stopper back, he slipped the ball into the net, throwing the Quilon crowd into raptures. That triumph was especially sweet for AP, which met Bengal twice earlier in the finals, but lost.

"Team spirit soared on and off the field," he reminisced. After every match, players gathered at Hotel Madina in the Old City for tea or biriyani or at the Lateef restaurant, near Moazzam Jahi Market. Reflected in competition, this camaraderie contributed to cohesion and great understanding. No wonder then that in Indian football's finest hour, eight men were from Hyderabad.

Food for thought?

With the wolf never far from his door, food is a recurring theme. "Many of the players were good cooks too, some of them handing out Hyderabad recipes to a Delhi restaurant, which has grown so much that Rahul Gandhi orders food from there," he says. In a market-driven world, he's soft-spoken and modest, thus a misfit.

A blinding love for Hyderabad and in deference to his father's wishes, Zulfakar stayed back in the Twin Cities, while his teammates made a beeline for Bengal, the El Dorado of Indian football.

Still dogged by injuries from his playing days, he's on a month-long pilgrimage to Parbhani. Where the fraternity has failed him, Providence will provide, perhaps.