The boy asked for a second roti. That’s all. Fifteen years old, growing shoulders, empty stomach after a full day of bowling at a national camp. What he got instead was a sentence that changed Indian cricket forever.
“There are no fast bowlers in India,” said Keki Tarapore, the camp administrator. He said it with a laugh, like it was a fact carved in stone. The boy from Chandigarh didn’t argue. He ate his two rotis, went back to his room, and decided something.
He would become the fast bowler that India supposedly didn’t have.
The meal that built a beast called Kapil Dev
It was the mid-seventies. Kapil Dev Nikhanj had travelled to Bombay for an Under-19 camp. The training was hard. The food was not. Two chapatis and some vegetables for lunch. For a teenager whose body was his only weapon, this wasn’t enough.
When he protested, Tarapore’s words landed like a slap. Not because they were cruel, but because they were true.
India hadn’t produced a genuine pace bowler since independence. Mohd Nissar and Amar Singh played in the 1930s, but that was it. The system was built for spin. Fast bowlers were just guys who bowled three overs to get the shine off.
Kapil later said he felt no anger, only gratitude. Tarapore had shown him the direction. He had to prove him wrong. That was the motivation. He played for India within two years.
From Gavaskar’s defensive mastery to Kapil’s aggressive pace
Before Kapil, Indian cricket relied on the technical brilliance of Sunil Gavaskar and the guile of the spin quartet. While Gavaskar was the “Little Master” who could bat for days to save a Test, India lacked the raw intimidation of pace. Kapil Dev became the missing piece of that puzzle.
October 1978. Faisalabad. Pakistan vs India after 17 years. The series was supposed to be about friendship. The pitches were flat. Both sides had superstars. For India, the plan was simple. Let the all-rounders take the shine off. Then let Bedi, Chandrasekhar, and Prasanna spin webs.
Kapil was 19. He looked different. Broad shoulders. A prominent moustache. Fire in his eyes. He ran in like he had somewhere to be.
Mushtaq Mohammad won the toss. Majid Khan and Sadiq Mohammad opened. They expected gentle swing, not war.
Kapil’s second over changed everything. The ball rose sharply. Missed Sadiq’s cap by inches. Sadiq looked confused. Then scared. He signalled to the dressing room. He wanted a helmet.
Helmet that proved a point
This was 1978. Helmets were for batsmen facing the West Indies quicks. For Indians who had been hit by Charlie Griffith and Michael Holding. Not for Pakistanis facing an Indian bowler.
Now he was asking for protection from a teenager.
It took several overs for the helmet to arrive. When it did, Kapil wasted no time. The next bouncer hit the helmet. The ball raced for four leg-byes. Kapil Dev had announced himself.
Superstar who outgrew his country
Balwinder Sandhu watched that Faisalabad spell and told this to Famous Cricket writer Abhishek Mukherjee. “He could reach 140-145 kmph in short bursts,” Sandhu said. “But he was India’s only strike bowler, so he had to bowl long spells. That’s why he cut his pace. He needed to survive.”
Survive he did. For 16 years, he bowled 4623 overs in Tests. Took 434 wickets. A world record.
The numbers shame modern bowlers. In his first 62 Tests, he didn’t miss a single one. While he took 247 wickets, all other Indian pacers combined took 173. In his entire career of 131 Tests, the rest of India’s fast bowlers took 422 wickets combined. Not one of them reached 100.
Before he turned 25, he had almost 250 wickets and 2500 runs. He was India’s highest wicket-taker in ODIs too. He was also India’s highest run-getter in ODIs for a long time. The only Indian then with both an ODI century and a five-wicket haul.
Champion who borrowed glory
June 25, 1983. Lord’s. West Indies dressing room. Clive Lloyd’s team had cartons of champagne ready. Their third World Cup in a row. Kapil walked in after India’s win. Saw the cartons. Looked at Lloyd and Viv Richards.
“You won’t need these today,” he said. “Our dressing room will take better care of them.”
That was the same man who once asked for a second roti and got laughed at. Now he was taking champagne from world champions.
Why we still talk about two rotis
The Tarapore incident could have broken him. Instead, it built him. He used the insult as a map. Every net session became a reply. Every wicket became proof.
He never forgot those words. They stayed with him through 1-2 hour bowling sessions. Through marathon spells on dead Indian wickets. Through the 1983 World Cup. Through every time he had to bat at number seven because the team needed balance.
Today, when Jasprit Bumrah runs in with the new ball, when Mohammed Shami swings it both ways, when Indian fans expect their pacers to win matches overseas; it all goes back to that boy who was told he couldn’t exist.
Kapil Dev turns 67 today. He is still the only Indian with 4000 runs and 400 wickets in Tests. Still the benchmark every all-rounder fails to reach.
But more than the numbers, he is the man who proved that sometimes the best coaching is a bad meal and a worse prediction.
Happy birthday, paaji. The rotis were worth it.