If you needed proof that not everything can be measured in numbers look no further than Salim Durani, the 88-year-old former India all-rounder who breathed his last in Jamnagar early on Sunday morning. Durani played 29 Tests, scoring 1202 runs and taking 75 wickets. But, ask anyone who played with him or against him and they speak of him with respect and affection.

The most famous stories about Durani are about his ability to hit sixes at will. While no batsman can lay claim to a 100% record when it comes to something like this, those of a certain age remember crowds persistently yelling “we want sixer!” And Durani obliged them with a clean swing of the bat at the earliest possible instance. Although he hit a long ball, Durani never claimed to be a power hitter.

In later conversations, he would only say that he lifted the ball over the fielder. The other famous bit about Durani is a contentious one. While it is widely believed that he was born in Kabul, this is something Durani has denied in interviews, going to the extent of saying he has never even been to Kabul. But, then again, this just adds to the myth.

What is a fact is that Durani would sometimes demand the ball off Ajit Wadekar, his captain, when Garry Sobers was in full cry and dismiss arguably the best allrounder of all time with his leftarm orthodox spin. One such famous instance was in 1971 when India won their maiden Test in the West Indies. Durani had Clive Lloyd and Sobers in space of a few balls, setting up a sevenwicket win in Port of Spain. In that spell, Durani conceded only 21 runs in the 17 overs he bowled.

A flamboyant character who enjoyed a drink, Durani has seen a lot of what life downs. From financial setbacks to health challenges, Durani endured it all after his playing days ended. But, when he was at his peak, Durani was a genuine folk hero.

At a time before the world was a global village, Durani’s name rang around the cricketing universe. This was not fame fuelled by social media or celebrity, but by the respect of peers and the love of the common man. Durani had a light touch with people, equally comfortable smoking a cigarette at a corner tea stall and riding with maharajas in the fanciest of cars.

When asked about tough times, Durani would inevitably shrug it off: whose life doesn’t come with difficulties, he would ask, with a characteristic laugh. Inevitable when asked how he managed to keep this attitude going, there would be a glint in his eye. “The problem comes when you try to control life. If you understand that life is bigger and go with the flow, everything becomes easier.” At a time when a cricketer can become a household name after just one big knock in an IPL match, Durani would have been a massive draw. But, you suspect, he was quite happy to have been a man of another era, a more forgiving, more genuine one.