In an article contained in the souvenir, Mohinder says that during the Lahore Test that year, a crucial ploy was used by Asif Iqbal to help his team. Eight players, including Mohinder, were invited for a meeting with Packer's representative Lynton Taylor and each was offered a three-year contract.
Kerry Packer, the Australian media tycoon, was at the time trying to break the establishment's hold over the game by hiring top cricketers from all over the world to play under his banner. The only two teams that held out were England and India.
Mohinder believes that the timing of the offer was a ploy to shake the concentration of the side during the Lahore test. He talks of how the late Fateshingh Gaekwad, the then team manager, got a whiff of developments and, calling the Indian players together, advised them to deal with it at their own discretion, but only after the tour was over. Of course, says Mohinder, once the tour was over nothing was ever mentioned again about the fabulous contracts.
In the souvenir, Mohinder has written at length about that particular tour, which re-started cricketing relations between the two sides after the war in the early Sixties. He recalls how the Pakistani board was so keen to beat India that it defied the International Cricket Council ban and recalled the Packer players, which included Imran Khan, Zaheer Abbas, Majid Khan and the rest of the stars.
Recalling that tour, Mohinder says that the relations between the sides was never friendly, and that the umpires in particular were very hostile. He recalls how angry words were exchanged between Sunil Gavaskar and one umpire. After lunch, the umpires refused to officiate unless Gavaskar, and then skipper Bishen Bedi, apologised. They refused, and the match was resumed after some compromise was reached.
Mohinder describes the umpiring on that tour, and most especially the Lahore Test, as ``atrocious'', he points out how then President General Zia Ul Haq came to the ground everyday and all concerned were determined to see that Pakistan won in front of him.
About the infamous Sahiwal one-dayer on that tour, Mohinder, with characteristic frankness, recalls how the relations between captains Mushtaq and Bedi had reached its nadir, how both, despite having played for a decade in English county cricket, hardly spoke to each other. He recalls how at Sahiwal, bumpers and bouncers were peppered at G R Vishwanath, and how the Indian appeals were met with the snide suggestion, by a Pak official no less, that maybe a taller player than Vishy should be sent out to bat. The Pakistani players were abusive, and as for the crowd, they were egging Imran on to ``kill'' me, Mohinder recalls.
Mohinder had, just a year ago, gone through another period of strain when the West Indian captain Clive Lloyd, badgered for losing the Test, ordered Michael Holding to go round the wicket and aim for the body.
Mohinder recalls that incident thus: ``Anshuman Gaekwad fought bravely and was hit all over the body. Helmets were not in vogue then, nor were the chest pads. Finally, one delivery broke his glasses and he started bleeding, but he fought like a true Maratha warrior. Manager Polly Umrigar eventually persuaded him to return, but next Vishwanath got his finger fractured and Brijesh Patel was hit on the face. The attack was so ferocious on the body that when Madan Lal was hit on the head, he lost his sense of direction and ran towards mid-wicket for a run.''
Interestingly, Mohinder justifies that barrage, saying that in the Windies, cricket is a fast bowler's game and you have to take your knocks as they come.
The lengthiest article in the souvenir is dedicated to memories of the 1993 World Cup win. He says that the World Cup team was probably the only time in Indian cricket history that the selectors picked an ideal side for a one-day event.
Mohinder recalls how Malcolm Marshal and Dilip Vengsarkar had a private war going, how in the league match Marshall's ball hit Vengasarkar on the jaw, the blood gushed out and the fielders ran up to the stricken batsman but Marshall coolly picked up the ball, removed the bit of flesh sticking to the seam walked back to his run-up, looking very pleased with himself.
The British media, he remembers, called the Indian passage to the semi-finals a fluke and did not give India a chance to beat England. The English cricketers could not accept the defeat, and only David Gower, a ``thorough gentleman'', came to the Indian dressing room to congratulate them after the game.
About the final against the West Indies, Mohinder recalls how, at the start of proceedings, the seniormost player, Sunil Gavaskar, addressed the team with these words, ``Chalo jawano, ladenge!'' (Come, warriors, let us fight).
Mohinder was a serious cricketer, but not without a sense of the comic. He recalls how, while travelling in video coaches during the 1983 World Cup, Sandip Patil would always screen Dada Kondke's naughty comedy Andheri Raat Mein Diya Tere Haath Mein. ``We watched it so many times that at the end of the tour, the whole team knew its dialogues by heart,'' Mohinder recalls in a moment of levity.
Mohinder had his favorites - and peeves. He speaks lovingly about Bishen Singh Bedi and Sunil Gavaskar - but is critical about Mansur Ali Kahan Pataudi.
One thing he remembers about his Test debut was the lack of guidance from Pataudi. ``Not once did he (Pataudi) come up to me with words of encouragement. He was aloof and would not mix with youngsters. I had expected some support from the captain, but it was not forthcoming.''
Mohinder on Bedi: ``Bishen was a terrific captain and was always ready to do anything for the players. He taught me how important it was to socialise and interact. He was hard on the field, but totally different off it. He was great spinner, but not a shrewd captain.'
Mohinder on Sunil Gavaskar: ``A thinker right from his school days, a great player against all types of bowling and one who led by example, intelligent, well read and could communicate in Hindi and English fluently. He was the first captain to realise that cricket had become a fast bowler's game. A good observer, he knew the feared Malcolm Marshall would always hitch up his trousers before bowling a bouncer. He took Sivaramakrishnan to Australia in 1984-'85, much to dismay of all, but Shiva was crucial in the Benson and Hedges Cup win. He may not have won a lot of Tests for India, but he always played for the team and the country.''
With the exception of South Africa, Mohinder Amarnath has played on almost all the famed grounds in the world. And his comments about some of them are laugh-provoking, so we will end this with a selection:
Eden Gardens, Calcutta: ``Indian cricketers' most favourite ground. The spectators are emotional. When Kapil Dev was dropped against England, they threw bottles and oranges at Sunil Gavaskar. When India lost to West Indies inside four days, our bus was stoned.''
Sydney, Australia: ``I use to love to field in the front of the hill. On warm sunny days, the girls would be in bikinis, rubbing suntan lotion on their bodes. The fielders would be always offered wine and beer.''
Barbadoes, West Idies: ``Fielding on the fence meant that you were not only offered drinks, but their girlfriends as well!''