India, Oct. 3 -- Last month saw the 154th birth anniversary of Ranjitsinhji, the first Indianto play Test cricket for England.Later this month, the 92nd edition of the tournament named after him - the Ranji Trophy - begins. A great deal has been written about Ranjitsinhji (or "Run-Get-Sinhji", as the British press nicknamed him), some of it unkind, much of it fantastical. In Cambridge, where his cricketing career began, rumour had it that his adoptive father, the Jam Sahib (the title of the ruler of Nawanagar), would have three slaves executed every time his son scored a century. If this were true, wags quipped, the populace of Nawanagar must be "growing beautifully less". There is, however, one astonishing - and true - story that is little known. Ranjitsinhji's life may have turned out very differently had an English-speaking, Bengali ascetic named Swami Anandashram not come down to Nawanagar from the Himalayas. Born to a prosperous Bengali mercantile family in Calcutta, Anandashram made a mark early in life when, after being educated by missionaries, he renounced his inheritance and devoted himself to the "amelioration of India". Viewing the garb and peripatetic life of a sannyasi as the best means of realising this objective, in the late 1850s, he joined a math in Kashi whose initiates were expected to undertake a 12-year pilgrimage. He then proceeded to spend about six years in the Himalayas before working his way down to Jaipur in the early 1860s. The choice was intentional. The Maharaja of Jaipur, Ram Singh, was gaining fame by modernising his kingdom, investing in education, medicine, and public works. Following the death of his trusted dewan and tutor, Shivdin Singh, the Maharaja had recently imported Hari Mohan Sen, an accomplished Hindu College graduate, who was tasked with introducing a "semblance" of constitutional government by establishing a Royal Council. This impulse caught Anandashram's eye: There were plenty of native rulers willing to spend money on public welfare, but almost none were prepared to curb their absolute power. Convinced by Ram Singh's example that"princes were the best agents for influencingthe destinies and welfare of millions of fellow-beings", Anandashram elected to advocate for responsible government in Western India where "radically conservative" Rajput clans ruledover several "benighted" principalities. Thus, he appeared in Nawanagar in 1864, from wherehe began sending letters to the Bombay press exposing, in perfect English, "grievous errors" in the Jam Sahib's administration. As the ruler, Vibhaji Ranmalji, was more partial to wine and women than to governing, there was much to complain about. When copies of these "severe articles" reached the Jam Sahib, he ordered his spies to locate the writer. They figured the recent English-speaking arrival was the likely offender. Anandashram was then brought before the furious Jam Sahib who demanded that he cease and repent. The sannyasi replied: "I journey through the country examining into and exposing all that is false, cruel, and unjust, and giving my support to whatever is good wherever I find it; and this I shall continue to do". Unimpressed, Vibhaji threatened to imprison Anandashram, who laughed off the threat by reminding the Jam that he had renounced worldly pleasures, so "jail to him was as good a place of residence as any other". The Jam was now in a jam. Dismayed by the prospect of continued censure in the Bombay press, he agreed to reform his principality. The development surprised the local British representative, Lionel Barton, who wrote to his superiors describing the new arrival as a "political sannyasin". Anandashram, meanwhile, wasted no time. He placed an advertisement for an "English Secretary" to the Jam, which was answered by Vinayak Bhagwat, a talented Elphinstonian. The duo quickly established a medical dispensary and an English primary school and, most importantly, a genuinely independent judicial department, with Bhagwat as nyayadhisha (chief magistrate). The experiment did not last. Bhagwat's rectitude - his insistence on passing orders "irrespective of frowns or favours from persons in authority" - was one problem. The Jam's heir was another. Having failed to produce a son with his14 Rajput wives, Vibhaji had, apparently, fathered a child with Dhanbai, a Muslim concubine - and he had decided to petition the British to recognise this boy, Kalubha, as his heir. When Anandashram and Bhagwat learned of the plan, they warnedthe "foolish Jam" that it violated Hindu law and would cause an uproar in Rajputana. It did not help that Dhanbai was viewed as a dangerous schemer and Kalubha a dullard. Fearing that the duo would scuttle the succession by countering his appeal to the British, Vibhaji promptly expelled them from Nawanagar. Anandashram, who loved reciting the proverb, "where there is life, there is hope", was undeterred. He moved to neighbouring Kutch where he served successfully as an advisor to the progressive ruler, Rao Pragmalji. The Jam Sahib was less fortunate, as his heir proved abusive and violent. In 1877, Kalubha was disinherited and expelled from Nawanagar after reportedly being implicated in a plot to poison Vibhaji. Chastened, the Jam Sahib followed the advice that the "reform party" led by Anandashram had previously given him, which was to follow custom and nominate "collateral members of the reigning family". When the first adoptee, Raisinhji, died within six months, allegedly from poison, Vibhaji selected Ranjitsinhji. But this time, to preserve the boy from conspirators, he dispatched him to Rajkot, where he was subsequently lodged in the recently established Rajkumar College. There the principal, Chester Macnaghten, noticed the boy's talent for sport and introduced him to cricket, and later accompanied him to England, where he helped him gain admission to his alma mater, Cambridge. The rest is history - or rather, contestedhistory. In recent times, Ranji has been faultedfor supporting imperial and princely rule. Buthe was far from alone in looking askance at nationalism and democracy. He did not become thesort of constitutional ruler that Anandashram hoped to raise up. But, his administrative record was hardly unsatisfactory, with notable advances in public health, literacy, and life expectancy. We can say that it was turf, not territory, that Ranji ruled especially well. Ranji has also been deprecated for striving to be a "Brown Englishman". This criticism underplays how difficult it was for his generation to navigate English society. The English never failed to notice the "holes in his ears" or his tendency to "speak in a strange tongue" when annoyed or excited during a game. Yet, Ranji strove to score boundaries and cross boundaries. And his hard-won acceptance was, in a way, our acceptance too. For as WW Hunter observed at the time, by outdoing the English in their national sport, Ranji made the "average Englishman respect Indians to a degree no other triumph could". And so, when the Ranji Trophy is raised next March, we should remember Ranji warmly - and remember too, the "political sannyasin" who helped prepare the pitch for him....