Blood on a Hockey Field
Sundeep Misra, author, Gunned Down: Murder of an Olympic Champion, (AuthorsUpFront) first heard of the name Prithipal Singh, when he was a schoolboy making a list of top-ten hockey players with his father in the late ’70s. Misra knew of Dhyan Chand, Balbir Singh, Leslie Claudius, but Prithipal’s name, who his father insisted belonged in the top five, was new to him.
Prithipal was a major name in Indian hockey during the 1960s Olympics. “He was this big personality. He had a cult following around him, like the way he used to score off those penalty corner hits and generally his play on field,” Misra recalls. In 1983, when Misra read that Prithipal had been shot dead on the Punjab Agricultural University (PAU) campus, the memory of his discussions with his father returned. “It was always at the back of my mind. But then barely out of school, I never had an inkling that one day I would write a book or even become a journalist,” notes Misra.
The book traces the life of the hockey star from his childhood in Nankana Sahib in post-Partition Pakistan, and the family’s move to Amritsar amid the upheaval of Partition, to his triumphs on the Olympic field — Rome 1960 (silver), Tokyo 1964 (gold), and Mexico City 1968 (bronze). It follows his later years as a teacher at Punjab Agricultural University, leading up to his assassination on the campus.
Unlike the orderly chapters, writing it was anything but easy. Records and archives were sparse, and many of Prithipal’s contemporaries had already passed away, making it hard to piece together the man behind the player. “When I started looking for material, there was almost nothing. Unlike in the US, where archives on sport in the 1950s and ‘60s, especially heavyweight boxing are endless, Indian sports history offers only match reports: 'Prithipal scored three goals.' Nothing about the man himself,” Misra says.
The book points out that Prithipal is perhaps “the only Olympic gold medallist” in India to be assassinated. And yet, his story remains largely absent from public memory. This only deepened Misra’s determination, because for him Gunned Down is not just about one man but about the erasure of sporting history.
Some might argue that four decades after the murder, the moment has passed. Misra disagrees. “I don’t think there’s a right or wrong time to tell such stories,” he says. “Sports literature in India is so thin. If we don’t document these lives, they will disappear.”
A polarising figure
Part of what makes Prithipal’s story so compelling is how divided memories of him remain. To some, he was a fearless goal-scorer and a strict disciplinarian. To others, he was authoritarian, even abusive, as an administrator at PAU. Alongside the biographical notes on Prithipal’s life, Misra offers a neutral portrait: a man admired on the hockey field for his fierce game, sharp tactics, and strong morals, but also feared as an authority figure by those wary of his temper. His research draws on interviews — from Charanjit Singh, a member of the 1964 Olympic team who recalled Prithipal’s personality and valour, to an anonymous source who admitted being part of the group behind Prithipal’s murder, showing no remorse for the act.
“For me, the job wasn’t to take sides,” he says, when asked about handling contradictions in the opinion about Prithipal. “I decided not to filter people’s memories into my own judgement. My role was to present him as he was remembered—as a player, as a person, as an administrator. Let readers decide.”
Chasing shadows
On and off, the book took over six years to research and write. Along the way, he published other works but kept returning to Prithipal. “There were times I wanted to give up,” he admits. “It was exhausting, emotionally and logistically. I couldn’t let it go.”
Much of the difficulty came from the silence surrounding the murder. Police officers from the time refused to speak, lawyers who brushed him off, as well as former students of PAU who either denied knowledge or insisted on anonymity. “Even players from the 1968 Olympic team, people still alive, wouldn’t say more than: ‘Yes, he was a good player.’ But I wanted insights into the man. And they just weren’t forthcoming.”
Misra followed leads across Punjab, Canada, and the United States — some ending in dead ends, others in revelations. In Montreal, during an off-the-record conversation, he came face-to-face with a man who, as Misra recalls, “first checked me out, asking why I was still pursuing this,” before admitting he had been part of the group that planned the assassination. “From the way he spoke, I sensed he was close to the core group. I didn’t press him with provocative questions, but then he calmly said, ‘Yes, I was part of the group that killed him. We believed he was against the students and had to be taught a lesson.’ There was no regret in his voice. He even added, ‘Even if he stood before me today, I’d shoot him again’.”
After six years of chasing leads across continents, Misra is unsure if he has found closure. “I wouldn’t call it closure. There are still multiple versions of events. Even now people call me saying, ‘You missed this detail.’ But at some point, you have to take the best available version and write it. Otherwise, you’ll never finish.”