As a young cricketer he played with legendary CK Naidu and watched him cracking sixes. He played with Vinoo Mankad and saw the great cricketer struggling in poverty. Himself a first class cricketer he later managed Indian sides and later as one of the country's most successful cricket administrators he was closely associated with the rise of Indian cricket. But one of his toughest assignments was to manage the rivalry between Kapil Dev and Gavaskar. Raj Singh Dundarpur tells the full story of Indian cricket.To listen Click here (English)
http://midday.chalomumbai.com/news/nation/2004/october/93811.htm I came across this article... Dungarpur remembers Lata of 1959In 1959, could be August, I came to Bombay to do law। I told Dilip Sardesai's first cousin, Sopan Sardesai, that I can't exist without playing cricket.He told me that the only place that you could get cricket was at a Walkeshwar house, where Lata Mangeshkar's brother and his friends played tennis ball cricket. I said, "I'm not bothered by who plays, but I have to be there." They used to stay in a two-bedroom flat in a building behind the Walkeshwar house. She was in those days, I suppose, recording all day; nor was I hung up on seeing her. I just played and went back to my sister's house in Nepean Sea Road. But her family must have discussed that I had come, so she said, "We must offer him a cup of tea." I was invited to come up — I can't remember if it was raining. She was utterly charming; she came to see me off and gave me her car. They were celebrating nariyal poornima shortly and she invited my brother and me for dinner. Everybody was quite crazy about cricket and I was just a Ranji Trophy player. Sopan Sardesai and the Mangeshkar family lived in Nana Chowk, in what would be perhaps little above a chawl. From there, she went to Walkeshwar and then to Peddar Road. That's how I started to know her. I went for a couple of her recordings, and so on.She was into cricket before me. She had watched the Australian services team in 1945 and remembers Keith Miller very distinctly — who is perhaps the handsomest cricketer the game has ever known. She also said that she saw Mushtaq Ali and Amarnath play. But she, of course, sat in the north stand. I think she couldn't afford any other ticket.What struck me was her utter simplicity. She was a legend in 1959 and when I went for her recording, I realised the ease with which she completed her recording assignment.I think the hallmark of any entertainer (is) he must be able to display his art as if it's very simple. When you see Sobers, Gavaskar, Tendulkar or Mankad, they made it look as if there's nothing to it. So did she. In few minutes, the recording was over. I remember that she gave a sovereign to Prem Dhawan who had composed the lyrics and it was at the Bombay Sound Recording studio in Dadar. I kept on regularly meeting her. She was very easily accessible, but at that time she was recording from 9 am-9 pm.I didn't listen to her music then a great deal. She may remember (those song recordings), but I don't. She has an elephantine memory — she can even tell you what dress she was wearing that day. I think she has a split personality. Rub her the wrong way and she just won't take it — she's like a tigress. Once, an Income Tax commissioner's daughter was getting married. He sent her an invitation and then took the audacity to call her up and tell her to sing a couple of songs at the reception.She said, "I will definitely sing, but before that I will have a word with Mrs Gandhi and tell her that this is how her officers are treating us. I must take her permission, she is the Prime Minister of India. I must say how well we are being treated." He came by the next flight and apologised to her. But she would have spoken to her — Mrs Gandhi knew her extremely well. On her 75th birthday, she told me that Vajpayeeji, Advaniji, Sharad Pawar spoke to her and so many other politicians. I think I've been out with her for about 15-20 concerts around the world. In the 1975 concert for the Nehru Memorial Centre in London, my brother-in-law Lalit Sen was the Parliamentary secretary to Pandit Nehru. He was very close to Krishna Menon and he said, "Lalit, you must get Lata Mangeshkar to sing so that we can get funds for the Centre." Lalit asked me to speak to her. She said, "For Pandit Jawaharlalji, I will give a concert and not charge one pound. But I will only sing at the Royal Albert Hall."I asked her why and she said, "I'm supposed to be a leading singer of India. It is a prestigious hall. I owe it to my people not to sing in a university hall." She was the singer who filled the Royal Albert Hall for three days. I remember that when I came along with Dilip Kumar, she asked us to check how the acoustics were. So Yusufbhai, as I call him, stood at one end and I stood in the other. I remember the recordist said, "How can this frail girl sing barefooted in March? She'll get pneumonia." She sings barefooted because I think it's sacred. She wears a navratan ring that belonged to the late K L Saigal whom she never met. But her brother was a jeweller and Saigal's family fell on hard days and she bought the ring. She still wears it at recordings and public performances. Lata Mangeshkar can be childlike. When she got the Bharat Ratna, we were in London. She opened the flat and it was 11:30 at night. The phone was ringing.She picked it up and said, "Wow!" I said, "Hell! What is wow left for Lata Mangeshkar?" She said, "Rachna (her favourite niece) is telling me that I've got the Bharat Ratna." The phones never stopped till late in the night. The next morning — in London, you have to make a cup of tea yourself — I made one for her.She had her two, three medicines and I asked her, "How does it feel to be a Bharat Ratna?" She said, "Now that you ask me…bahut achha lagta hai."After that great song Ae Mere Watan Ke Logon, Panditji invited her to have a cup of tea. Indira Gandhi, with her two young sons, was persuading her to sing.She said, "Dekhiye, main to kisi ghar mein gati nahin hoon (I don't sing in anybody's house)."Just then, Panditji arrived. He said, "Indu, tu yeh ladki ko kya pareshan kar rahi ho (Why are you troubling this girl?)" She said, "Pappu, bacche so gaye the kal raat ko; inko suna nahin (The children were sleeping last night; they didn't hear her sing)." "To jab record hogi, to pet bhar ke sun lena (They can listen when her records come out)." He took her hand and said, "Chalo, main chai pilata hoon (Come, I'll give you tea)." She refused to sing in Pandit Nehru's house. But when Mehboob Khan got ill, Yusufbhai asked her to call him. When she called him, he said, "Tum 'Dheere se aaja re' telephone mein suna do, aur mujhe accha lage ga (you sing 'Dheere se॥' on the telephone and I'll feel better)." She sang straightaway — from Peddar Road to California.Everybody knows that I was extremely close to her — I am still close to her. I just spoke to her 15 minutes ago. This is a very personal matter. But we came from different backgrounds — '60s was very different. Perhaps, both were very attached to their respective families. It was one of those things that just didn't happen. But that has neither enhanced the relationship, nor has it reduced. She is the treasure house of my admiration and affection and I continue to be in touch with her.Mukesh once told me when we were having dinner in New York, "Raj Singhji to Aurangazeb hai."That means he hated music and understood nothing. My relationship was not built on music. People think I'm a connoisseur, but I find even half-an-hour very difficult to pass at a concert. But she watched the World Cup. An Australian was once doing research on her. While he was leaving, he asked if there was anything he could do for her.She asked for a signed picture of Don Bradman and got it. In 1983, we won the World Cup and N K P Salve asked her to raise money through a concert for the cricketers. She said, "Salvesaab, apne to mera wicket le liya (you have taken my wicket)." The net profit of that Nehru Stadium concert was about 45 lakh and each player got a lakh rupees. She built this great hospital in Pune. She saw her father die when she 12-13 years old without any medical aid in Sasoon Hospital.She promised herself that if she ever became anything, she would build this hospital in memory of her father so that other children wouldn't see their parents die without medical aid. One gentleman Sayeed Bhawan, I think from Oman, gave her Rs 6 crore in donation. He listens to her music, day and night. In tuti-phuti Hindi, he said that it was the least he could do for his sister. Now he's giving Rs 8 crore for her cancer research centre. She said that Madan Mohan was the music director who never attempted to replace her — all others did and came back to her. And Yash Chopra never took anybody but her. So she recorded those songs of Madan Mohan's and I believe that in less than a week, 11 lakh cassettes have sold and Yash Chopra has given her a new Mercedes Benz. On her 75th birthday, she was in a suite at the Oberoi. Before I went to Calcutta — I had to be there on September 28 — I had gone to wish her and just her family was there. She has been doing this for the past 20-25 years, she used to go to the Taj before. She is an avid shopper. If she ever got into trouble, it would be for the maximum number of perfumes. There's one thing that very few people know. Nobody realises, including her family members, what she has done for her family. This is her one distinct and incomparable commitment in life. She's like a Christmas tree, you shake it and goodies fall. These children have been thoroughly spoiled by her. She once heard a child cry in London. She knocked on this Egyptian couple's house, took the child in her arms and didn't go to sleep for the next five-six hours. That is Lata Mangeshkar. She's unbelievably kind. What hasn't changed in 75 years is her thirst for excellence. That's why she says sometimes that she doesn't want to sing anymore because she says, "I can't hit the notes that are high". I think it's a very rude thing to say (that she should stop singing). Can you ask anyone to stop eating? Music is her sacred vocation. She still packs in houses and sings extremely well. She's singing because she enjoys it. The song that I can listen to again and again is that song from Mughal-e-Azam, Bekas pe karam keejeye. It is in chaste Urdu and it is a prayer to God, "I'm so helpless, why don't you bless me?" When she sang it in South Africa once, there were a lot of Muslims from Cape Town. They went berserk. At Royal Albert Hall, the Pakistan High Commission had bought 300 tickets. But as the relationship was so poor, they didn't want to publicise it. They were spellbound.