London gets up early on Monday, shaking off the weekend's inertia.The street visible from my hotel room was getting busier by the minute as it would on any typical Monday morning. When I was about to order my third coffee, the cell phone buzzed. Zeyn Mirza, Vijay Mallya's racing manager, was on the line: "Feroz is no more; I heard it on television."
London gets up early on Monday, shaking off the weekend's inertia.The street visible from my hotel room was getting busier by the minute as it would on any typical Monday morning.u00a0 When I was about to order my third coffee, the cell phone buzzed. Zeyn Mirza, Vijay Mallya's racing manager, was on the line: "Feroz is no more; I heard it on television."
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There was a moment of dark numbness before the news stabbed me, and the enormity of the loss sank in.
Feroz Khan was more than a horse owner to me--he was a very dear friend. Our relationship was based on mutual respect and love, and it was sparked off by an unusual incident in the Bangalore racecourse paddock.
Dinner for winner
It was 1983, and I had recently donned the trainer's mantle. I had a horse owner called Subramaniam, whose horse was to run in a race in which Feroz Khan's horse, trained by SM Shah, was strongly fancied. I too was fancying our runner and the owner knew it. So when Feroz Khan, as always, full of life and ready to poke good-hearted fun at anyone, tried to underestimate our horse's chances, Subramaniam challenged him. Feroz accepted, and it was decided that whosoever loses will treat the winner to a dinner.
We won the race, and Feroz Khan called us over to his farm that night. Horse racing is a business of egos, so I was shocked to meet a horse owner who was actually celebrating someone else's victory and his own defeat! But then only Feroz Khan could have done it
First classic
For the next ten years we remained just friends, visiting each other often. Then one day in 1993, Feroz moved his horses to me and also told me to buy a juvenile for him. He wanted a colt, but when I went looking I liked a bay filly at the Dashmesh stud. "But I told you to get me a colt," Feroz protested. "You have a look at her and then decide," I said. When he set his eyes on her, she took his breath away. He approved the purchase immediately.
I told him he must choose a good name for this filly as I expected her to be a Classic winner. This really set his imagination aflame. Then one day he called me to complain about the title of a book he was reading, Winning Ugly. "How can winning be ugly?," he was furious, "I want to make a statement winning is not ugly, can we name our filly Winning Pretty?" "Sounds beautiful to me," I endorsed.
Winning Pretty created history for both of us. She won the Poonawalla Breeders' Million on the Mahalaxmi racetrack, and Feroz Khan became the first, and so far, the only film star to have won the famous race. She also won the grade 1, Indian 1000 Guineas on the same track which, incidentally, was the first ever Indian Classic for both Feroz and me.
Last desire
Two years ago Feroz called me to say that due to ill health he was planning to wind up his racing interests. His health deteriorated very fast after that. He was in and out of hospitals, but still maintained a happy, carefree facade through all the agony. The last I met him was three months ago at the Breach Candy hospital in Mumbai.
Now I learn that he forced the doctors treating him to release him from hospital so that he could go and spend his last moments peacefully at his farm. And he had his way. It sounds strange, abandoning the medical help to embrace the eternal peace in his most favourite setting. But then, only Feroz Khan could have done it!
(As told to Prakash Gosavi)
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