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From Soldier to Olympian: The Dream Manifest
- Shrividya Somanna
- Mar 20
- 5 min read
On the occasion of Army Day a few days ago, I wanted to bring back the gripping climax from the autobiographical account of Olympian Dr. M. P Ganesh, captain of the Indian Hockey team at the 1973 World Cup. His story began when he ran away to Jabalpur to serve in the Indian Army.
Excerpt from Chapter III of Living The Dream, An Autobiography by Dr. M.P Ganesh with Shrividya Somanna and S.S. Shreekumar.
“With hope in my heart and trust in God, I ran away from home to Jabalpur with Rs.25 as the allowance in hand…” This is what Olympian MP Ganesh, who captained India at the 1973 World Cup, states in the opening chapters of his autobiography.
How the runaway boy turned out to be one of the leading lights of Indian hockey is the essence of the painstaking effort: ‘My Autobiography, Living the Dream.’
With just 25 rupees in pocket, Ganesh reported at the army`s signal corps centre in Jabalpur 1600 km from home. His hockey career had started in the army.
The train ride to Jabalpur was nothing extraordinary—yet, within me, a storm raged. Each clatter of the wheels echoed my uncertainty, every passing station mirrored the crossroads of my life. Hunger gnawed at me, but with the few coins I had, I soothed my empty stomach with groundnuts and steaming chai. The train halted, and through the dusty windows, I watched the world unfold: the long-haired Baba chanting mantras, his voice weaving through the air like an ancient spell; the frail beggar, eyes hollow yet pleading, grasping at fleeting kindness. I felt adrift among strangers, my restless soul yearning for the warmth of my grandmother's wooden cot—a sanctuary now miles away.
Jabalpur was a jolt to my senses. The swirl of unfamiliar languages and the scent of foreign foods left me disoriented. No more comforting bites of thambutt or the familiar Coorg flavors that once filled my plate. I realized how vast and divided our country was, and I—so small in its enormity. Army life was relentless. Grueling drills, suffocating routines—each day heavier than the last. I wept quietly into the stiff bedding, my tears soaking into the coarse fabric, unseen and unheard.
After two months, loneliness pressed heavily on my chest. Staring at a blank page, my hands trembled as my heart poured out:
"Dear Appayya, Please don’t worry. Don’t search for me. I am in Jabalpur, in the Army, and everything is fine. I will send money when I receive my first salary. Take care. Love, Ganesh."
At just 18 and a half, I braved the blistering May sun, while back in Kodagu, the sky wept with thunder and rain. They say the first rain brings new beginnings—for me, it was the Army.
The air was thick with war. Pakistan's Operation Gibraltar threatened Kashmir, and India stood on edge. Recruitment soared, and I found myself enlisted in Army Signals—the eyes and ears of the battlefield. Yet, before earning that title, we scraped by with menial chores—scrubbing pots in the kitchen, slicing endless vegetables, even painting trees. Each task chipped away at my pride but strengthened my resolve.
The Army's ranks were steep: from recruit to Signalman, then Lans Naik, Naik, Havildar, and at the top, the Junior Commissioned Officer (JCO), whose stars gleamed with earned respect. I scrubbed toilets for a Malayali Subedar, ferried his children to school—humbling work, but my upbringing taught me the dignity of labor.
June arrived with my first salary—Rs.75. It felt like a blessing from the heavens. I sent Rs.50 home, a small but heartfelt offering, mirroring the responsibility my elder brothers carried. Family was my compass.
In C-Company, Squad 49 (1-MTR regiment of signals), I was no longer Ganesh—I was Army No. 6308745. As an Electrical Fitter of Signals (EFS), I endured bone-breaking drills, scaled ropes, crawled beneath barbed wire, and fired rifles until my body ached. Every bruise was a silent promise: I would not break.
One evening, a circular lit a spark within me: "Football Trials." My pulse quickened—football was my heartbeat, my escape. Yet, hope shattered when they dismissed me without a glance. "Too small," they said. The rejection was a dagger. That night, I buried my sobs in my pillow, each cruel word echoing louder in the dark. But I swore to myself—my spirit was too fierce to be measured by size.
Soon after, another circular: "Hockey Trials. Mandatory for Kodavas."
Hockey? My hands had never held a stick, though my eyes had memorized every move of Coorg’s players. With a pounding heart, I faced the selection committee. "Kahan se?" they asked. "Kodagu," I whispered, feeling the weight of expectation crush my chest.
Gripping the hockey stick for the first time, it felt alien yet powerful—like the odikathi, the Kodava warrior's blade. I was thrust into a battle I never chose, armed with a weapon I had never wielded. Yet, in that moment, something stirred—an untapped fire, a silent defiance.
And so began a journey that would forge not just my strength, but the very soul of who I was destined to become.
Dr. M. P. Ganesh’s autobiography is a must read for all hockey lovers in the country and abroad. His meteoric rise from holding the hockey stick for the first time to rising to dizzy heights. The right winger like none was the Captain of the Indian team in the 1973 World Cup. His is an astounding story which should inspire all and sundry. India lost to Netherlands in that final, missing a penalty stroke in the sudden death period. Had that been scored, India would have won the World Cup for the first time ever. Ganesh’s name would have been etched in gold. But fate willed otherwise.
Was there a conspiracy to deny him personal glory and the country the first World Cup? Ganesh has penned down his lucid thoughts and pondered over all the reasons for that defeat. Yet, Ganesh made it to the World XI. He was also part of two Asian Games, two World Cups and one Olympic Games. Invariably, he never returned empty-handed. His tenure as a professional with Italian club Levante HC, his marriage to Prema, whom he had not even seen before it was fixed, his son Ayyappa, his struggles in life, coaching India to the Olympic gold in 1980, becoming a super-efficient sports administrator for 25 years and eventually getting back to where it all began - Kodagu. Ganesh has described all this and more in inimitable fashion.
Living the Dream: An Autobiography of Dr. M.P Ganesh is available in Notion Press store, Amazon, Kindle, iBooks, Google Books, and Kobo. Check the link below!
About Writer: Shrividya is a content writer, curriculum developer and an educator. She has co-authored an autobiography for Olympian Dr. M.P Ganesh and has published many research papers and articles for some of India’s leading newspapers and websites. A sports enthusiast, she has represented her university at the All-India Athletics Championship besides working for a brief period of time as an Omni Sport Leader for one of the top sports retail stores of the country.
Disclaimer: The views and opinions expressed in this article are those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the official policy or position of The Kodagu Express. The publication assumes no responsibility for any errors, omissions, or the validity of the information presented.
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