– Mr. Nasarullah
he pre-degree college days. Libraries and a multitude of sports and arts organisations were almost the common character of every village back then. We too had a “Brothers Sports Club” in Perumathura. To complete the story, it must be said that our club was formed in competition with the pre-existing Friends Sports Club.
We were a group of seven who called ourselves the “Seven Man Army”: Kalimulla, M.S. Nathir, Nasir, Shafahath, Abdul Latheef, Kabir and Nasarullah. We were the driving force of the club; there weren’t any other members, at least not in name. When Shafahath went to the Gulf, we gave his position to my younger brother Salam.
A small single-room shop in the heart of Perumathura ‘city’, available for a limited rent at a subsidised rate, a bench inside it, and another four-legged item you could call a table with these, our club’s makeshift office was ready.
At this moment, one cannot forget to respectfully remember the great organisation from Madanvila, the Samajam, which through its long and praiseworthy activities discovered, nurtured, and contributed numerous talents from the village to the fields of arts and sports, and Karim Ashaan, who was always its soul and spirit.
Social media today is the common man’s ultimate weapon. It is a tool to shine, to constantly react, and to integrate with society. The only means we had in our youth were the handwritten magazines published every two or three years by organisations. Those, of course, were not even 1% as effective as today’s social media. Yet, society looked at the magazine with interest back then. When poetry, prose, illustrations, along with the editor’s page, Q&A columns, health tips, and all other elements were included, neatly handwritten in beautiful script, with an attractive cover, and hand-delivered from house to house, only then could you say the handwritten magazine was ready.
Brothers Sports Club also published a magazine. I wrote an article for it. The problem was the chosen topic for the article “Gnostic atheism”. The circulated magazine reached the Mahalla Committee office almost a year later. It was a time when orthodoxy reigned supreme; my article there might have led to complex discussions and a detailed trial for me. Finally, the Secretary came with the article to see my father. “Leave this case to me. I will handle it appropriately,” my father assured, sending the Secretary back. The former President of the Mahalla Committee could not have taken a lighter stance than this.
Meanwhile, an organisation in Perunguzhi organised a football tournament. Many teams from places like Azhur, Muttappalam, Chirainkeezh, Murukkumpuzha, Perunguzhi, and Perumathura participated. In a match where Friends and Brothers clashed, Friends emerged victorious. That sparked a rivalry. Because of this rivalry, it was ultimately two Perumathura teams that reached the final. It felt like India and Pakistan meeting in a World Cup cricket final. We imported all our players. All were district and state-level players. In this matter, it would be ungrateful to forget the service of Nasimuddeen.
Friends were far ahead of us in planning. Jimmy’s personal connections in the sports arena aided them. They also had the special distinction of having at least one player from Perumathura, Jimmy, in their team. Creating the aura of a national-level match, they filled the ground behind the railway station with spectators. It was a fiercely competitive match. From start to finish, the spectators watched the game with bated breath. But, what to say, Brothers’ run of bad luck hadn’t ended. A penalty in the 86th minute, and Friends converted it into a goal.
After the match, we Brothers stood huddled together on the ground with gloomy faces. If we got hold of that Jimmy, we felt like grabbing, biting, tearing, and eating him. After all, it was Jimmy who had arranged a slightly better team for them. Just then, three men from Azhur, returning home, passed by me saying to each other, “If you want to see a fabulous game, it’s the Perumathura folks who should play.”
perumathurasnehatheeram.org 