Right now, during the crucial preparatory match against Barbados, The 'Barbadossier' on Nari Contractor, is it complete? By no means, as I discerned when India's one-time left-handed opener-skipper, in a chat, shed fresh light on that dark hour in which he was laid low, by Charlie Griffith, during the early-1962 tour of the West Indies.

''Know one thing?'' said Contractor. ''It is true I never caught sight of that ball from Griffith that struck me down. Still I have always wondered whether I could not have, in the nick of time, got out of the way, but for the accident of a 'revolving window' right behind the sightscreen, opening in the very moment in which that Griffith delivery 'stood up'. It is possible, just possible, that the ball might have escaped hitting the side of my head, if that revolving window had not opened in the second it did''.

''That is Destiny,'' I said, aghast at this illuminating piece of insight.

''Call it Destiny, call it hard lines, it was fated to happen that way and it did,'' noted Nari philosophically. What amazed me was how detached Contractor could sound. He was near clinical in his description of the whole incident. Yet he bore no rancour whatsoever towards Charlie Griffith. He only made it a point to draw attention to how the two preceding deliveries from Griffith, too, had likewise seen him 'freeze', yet how he had somehow avoided getting hit.

''There is a grim touch of irony to it all,'' went on Nari. ''You will see how, as I reveal to you the prelude to the happening.'' That game in which I was hit was the colony one against Barbados, prior to the third Test, due to be staged at the same Bridgetown venue. We had all heard about how dangerous Griffith could be with his steepling ability to make the ball get up from a length. Dilip Sardesai was batting with me. And both of us, initially, found Griffith to be quite innocuous. In fact, as Dilip called me for an easy single off Griffith, he even paused for a while, in midpitch, to hiss: ''Fiddlesticks he is fast!''

''That was before the break,'' went on Contractor. ''On resumption, I never caught a glimpse of those first two Griffith deliveries that went whistling past my ears. I had faced Gilchrist and Hall before, I had faced Trueman and Statham, Lindwall and Meckiff. But those two deliveries from Griffith, I had ecountered nothing of the kind before in my cricketing life. Then came, of course, that third knockout blow.''

A near death-blow it proved to be. Today, when you see the number of times even fairly skilled batsmen are hit on the helmet by the fasties, you really wonder about how the Contractor generation managed with no protective gear worth the branded name. With those discreet streaks of grey hiding the 'plate' in his head, Nari Contractor remains as articulate in English as ever in his analysis of the game. So well reasoned are his arguments, so logical are his conclusions, that you marvel afresh at the will- power that sustained him through it all, as you archly look at the side of his head, still carrying a tell-tale outline of that grievous injury.

''It was horrifying,'' records David Frith in The Fast Men, ''when Nari Contractor, India's captain, was knocked senseless by a ball from Charlie Griffith into which he ducked during the match in Barbados. He was hit on the back of the skull, which was fractured, and began to bleed from the nose. For many hours his life was despaired of and Frank Worrell was among those who gave blood.''

So was K. N. Prabhu among those who gave blood, a fact of which Frith could have taken note. In fact, I saw little humour in the light-veined style in which Nari Contractor and Polly Umrigar discussed, in front of me, the impact of Hall and Griffith. Umrigar's plaint was that Contractor in the January 1959 Madras Test, had called him for a risky third run to get away from Hall, Nari insisted that he went for it only because he knew how swift Polly was in running to the danger end!

As Polly roundly abused Nari in colourful Parsi Gujarati, I fell to reflecting upon how, at this distance of time, the two could afford to joke about it. But it was deadly serious business when Contractor went down like a pole-axed bull at Bridgetown. Umrigar was the one with Contractor right through those suspenseful hours in hospital, as both India and the West Indies kept their fingers crossed. It was a moment in which the future of the game itself hung by a slender thread.

Yet Contractor remained a performer of unmatched guts. Five years after that cataclysmic happening, he was discovered to be mustard keen about regaining his lost spot in the Indian eleven. His eyes were pinpoints of concentration and determination as he turned out for West Zone at the Brabourne Stadium, on October 28, 1967, to hit a tenacious 130 against South Zone in the needle selection match that was that Duleep Trophy final. On my enquiring whether he was bracing himself as a candidate for the 1967-68 tour of Australia and New Zealand, Contractor responded: ''Of course I am all set to go! I have just got the runs and, if I am picked, I will go.''

''As an opener?''

''That's my slot. It is as an opener I have just hit 130.''

''But what about your fielding?'' I queried.

''Well, I was never brilliant. But any catch that comes to me I can still take.''

''You mean you are prepared to go to Australia and face Graham Mckenzie and co. under the captaincy of Tiger Pataudi?''

''But of course. If I go, I now go as a mere player _ as an opener, pure and simple. For I have first to re-establish myself as an opener in the Indian team. In the circumstances, how can I even think of the captaincy?''

Yet Nari Contractor's claim for selection was overlooked almost in the same breath in which his name came up. Pataudi shrewdly neutralised matters by springing the name of Vijay Manjrekar as India's seasoned new opener. I daresay Pataudi was actuated only by humanitarian considerations in ensuring that Contractor was so put out of tour reckoning.

Quite a few well-meaning souls had been working behind the scenes (among them Nari's wife, naturally enough) to see that Contractor was not allowed to embark on his ''foolhardy venture''. They were in the right, beyond doubt. For all that, what abides in the mind and heart, about the manner in which Contractor 'picked up the pieces' after the trauma of Barbados, is the never-say-die spirit of the man. ''The idea in returning to competitive cricket is logically to play for India again,'' observed Contractor. ''It otherwise makes no sense for me to have picked up a bat again, after what happened at Bridgetown against Barbados.''

That was said in late 1967. Now, early in 1997, Contractor is clear in his mind that Charlie chucked like no fastie in his time did. ''All fast bowlers I confronted,'' pointed out Contractor, ''dragged'' their delivery-foot to a point where, finally, hardly 18 yards separated me from them, when I came to face them. That meant they already had a towering four-yard advantage on the batsman facing up. Add to that the phenomenon of Griffith's delivery climbing from a length, almost vertically, and you know exactly what we batsmen in the West Indies were up against.''

What exactly Contractor was up against, let us have in the words of the man who reluctantly took over from him as captain for the third Test at Bridgetown, Barbados, on March 23, 1962, after having missed the first two Tests of the series through a rather mysterious groin injury. Mansur Ali Khan Pataudi, beginning his book (''Tiger's Tale'') under the heading, ''The Barbados Drama'', writes:
''March 16, 1962, will be remembered as a black day in the annals of Indian cricket. I am not normally, I think, a nervous batsman, but will admit to feeling a certain apprehension that day as I crouched in front of the stumps at Bridgetown, Barbados, ready to receive my first delivery from Charlie Griffith. I hope my apprehension did not show. I don't believe in showing emotion in public. Like joy, or tears, any sign of fear is best confined to one's private room. It certainly does not belong on the cricket field.

''As I watched Griffith walk back to his marker, I found it difficult to erase from my mind all that had gone before. Cricketers who had visited Barbados recently had warned us to expect trouble from Charlie Griffith, a giant Barbadian fast bowler with a 'freak' action. This, apparently, enabled him to make the ball rise off the pitch at an unexpected angle and at alarming pace.

''Early on, our captain, Nari Contractor, received a ball from Griffith which was short of a length, and it rose very abruptly. Nari had no time to play any sort of shot, but at the last moment hunched his shoulders. Even from the distance of the dressing room, we could hear the sickening thud as the ball struck his head.

''It was a delivery which has been the subject of much discussion. One suggestion is that the ball did not, in fact, rise above stump height. As an eyewitness from reasonably close range, I can dismiss this as completely inaccurate,'' points out Pataudi.

''Contractor is about five feet nine in height and, when hit, was standing upright, without having attempted any stroke. In fact, he did not move a muscle until the very last second, when he appeared to pick up the ball for the first time. Then he hunched his head into his right shoulder in a protective gesture. Had he not done this, the ball would have struck him in the neck instead of on the head.

''It should also be remembered that Contractor was already an extremely competent and experienced Test batsman, not easily deceived, and still less likely to be scared, by the very best fast bowling. We watched our captain sink to the ground. At first no one realised how badly Nari had been hurt. Later, as he sat in a corner of the dressing room, someone saw bleeding start from his ears and nose. At once manager Ghulam Ahmed telephoned the hospital. 'Send an ambulance!' we heard him demand.''

In 1962, India toured in times when there was no sort of medical assistance readily forthcoming. Certainly not in the West Indies. The state of panic that gripped our players in the dressing room can well be imagined. Pataudi himself, having missed the first two Tests (not entirely to Contractor's liking, it has to be recorded), was not right then, the model of courage against fast bowling.

''Play continued'' adds Pataudi grimly. ''A little later, Vijay Manjrekar who, technically, I have always considered the best Indian batsman of my time and who certainly was our best hooker, received a delivery from Griffith almost identical to the one with which Contractor was felled. By moving his head at the last moment, Manjrekar took the impact of the ball on the bridge of the nose. It was at once obvious that he, like Nari, must retire. Slowly he made his way back to the dressing room and, on entering, announced, quite calmly: 'I've been blinded, I cannot see a thing.!'

''The atmosphere was so tense,'' notes Pataudi, ''that waiting to bat was almost like waiting for the executioner's axe. However, 20 minutes later, to everyone's relief Manjrekar found he could see again. He wished me luck as I went 'over the top' or, rather, out of the pavilion, to join Jaisimha in the middle.

''Less than 12 months earlier, I had been involved in a car accident which cost me most of the sight in my right eye. But my good one now provided a vivid picture of Charlie Griffith charging towards me, as if meaning business. I saw him land at the crease at a wide angle, his chest square and his left foot splayed outwards. Down came his arm _ then nothing. I completely failed to pick up the ball at any point in its flight, though this time I could sense that it wasn't a bumper. Fortunately, the delivery was off target. I also failed to pick up Griffith's next two deliveries, but caught just a glimpse of the fourth. It seemed to come towards me from mid-off and I could do nothing to prevent the ball from shattering my stumps.

''Personally,'' concludes Pataudi, ''I have never been scared by normal fast bowling. In fact, since the accident to my eye, I have always considered myself more reliable against the quick stuff than spin. However, when Griffith bowled to me in our second innings, I again found it impossible to pick up the ball, just as I had in the first innings, so again he bowled me out for nought. It was my first 'pair'. Few players can have achieved such spectacular promotion (to the captaincy of India) after bagging a pair in an important game. I think I had been made vice-captain, in the first place, because it was envisaged that Nari Contractor would lead India for another five or six years.''

There can be no knowing whether Sachin Tendulkar entertained the same feelings when he was named as Mohammed Azharuddin's deputy. But as India plays Barbados at Griffith's Kensington Oval, as our team mentally toughens itself for the third Test on a pitch reputedly the fastest in the West Indies, it is idle to believe that the series is going to remain incident free _ like the first Test in Sabina Park was.

There Brain Lara (83 and 78) might have set the tone by walking in both innings when in sight of his hundred. There Navjot Singh Sidhu might have taken it in his stride when his solitary piece of good fielding saw umpire Merwyn Kitchen not even bother to call for a third-eye view, though the Sikh clearly had Carl Hooper (12) run out. The same Sidhu (0) might, most sportingly, have walked in the second innings when the same Merwyn Kitchen was viewed to be ruling him not out _ caught by Holder off Walsh. For all that it would cease to be a series in the Caribbean if you do not see the sparks and the stumps fly!

How the stumps flew in 1962 for Worrell's West Indies to wrap up the series 5-0. And that without Charlie Griffith playing in a single Test! In fact, in the first two Tests that time, Contractor fell no fewer than four times to Wesley Hall _ for 10 and 6; 1 and 9. Pataudi fared somewhat better as he assumed command, hitting 48 and 0; 47 and 1; 14 and 4 in the remaining three Tests. But Pataudi himself would be the first to admit that the West Indies went slow on the fast, intimidatory stuff, once Worrell and his men had taken a 2-0 lead in the series. Worrell clearly wanted no more casualties during that ill-starred tour.

''Charlie Griffith and his friends,'' says Pataudi in passing, ''may find some of the details in this opening chapter embarrassing, and I am sorry, because I have no wish to open up old wounds, nor to indulge in sensationalism. On the other hand, I am bound to feel a good deal more sorry for Nari Contractor, whose Test career was ended so abruptly through no fault of his own. Cricket is a hard game to be played by men using a hard ball. But it is only a game, not war.''

Source: The Hindu