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By:

Bhalchandra Chorghade

11 August 2025 at 1:54:18 pm

Applause for Cricket, Silence for Badminton

Mumbai: When Lakshya Sen walked off the court after the final of the All England Badminton Championships, he carried with him the disappointment of another near miss. The Indian shuttler went down in straight games to Lin Chun-Yi, who created history by becoming the first player from Chinese Taipei to lift the prestigious title. But the story of Lakshya Sen’s defeat is not merely about badminton final. It is also about the contrasting way India celebrates its sporting heroes. Had the same...

Applause for Cricket, Silence for Badminton

Mumbai: When Lakshya Sen walked off the court after the final of the All England Badminton Championships, he carried with him the disappointment of another near miss. The Indian shuttler went down in straight games to Lin Chun-Yi, who created history by becoming the first player from Chinese Taipei to lift the prestigious title. But the story of Lakshya Sen’s defeat is not merely about badminton final. It is also about the contrasting way India celebrates its sporting heroes. Had the same narrative unfolded on a cricket field, the reaction would have been dramatically different. In cricket, even defeat often becomes a story of heroism. A hard-fought loss by the Indian team can dominate television debates, fill newspaper columns and trend across social media for days. A player who narrowly misses a milestone is still hailed for his fighting spirit. The nation rallies around its cricketers not only in victory but also in defeat. The narrative quickly shifts from the result to the effort -- the resilience shown, the fight put up, the promise of future triumph. This emotional investment is one of the reasons cricket enjoys unparalleled popularity in India. It has built a culture where players become household names and their performances, good or bad, become part of the national conversation. Badminton Fights Contrast that with what happens in sports like badminton. Reaching the final of the All England Championships is a monumental achievement. The tournament is widely considered badminton’s equivalent of Wimbledon in prestige and tradition. Only the very best players manage to reach its final stages, and doing it twice speaks volumes about Lakshya Sen’s ability and consistency. Yet the reaction in India remained largely subdued. There were congratulatory posts, some headlines acknowledging the effort and brief discussions among badminton enthusiasts. But the level of national engagement never quite matched the magnitude of the achievement. In a cricketing context, reaching such a stage would have triggered days of celebration and analysis. In badminton, it often becomes just another sports update. Long Wait India’s wait for an All England champion continues. The last Indian to win the title was Pullela Gopichand in 2001. Before him, Prakash Padukone had scripted history in 1980. These victories remain among the most significant milestones in Indian badminton. And yet, unlike cricketing triumphs that are frequently revisited and celebrated, such achievements rarely stay in the mainstream sporting conversation for long. Lakshya Sen’s journey to the final should ideally have been viewed as a continuation of that legacy, a reminder that India still possesses the talent to challenge the world’s best in badminton. Instead, it risks fading quickly from public memory. Visibility Gap The difference ultimately comes down to visibility and cultural investment. Cricket in India is not merely a sport; it is an ecosystem built over decades through media attention, sponsorship, and mass emotional attachment. Individual sports, on the other hand, often rely on momentary bursts of recognition, usually during Olympic years or when a medal is won. But consistent performers like Lakshya Sen rarely receive the sustained spotlight that their achievements deserve. This disparity can also influence the next generation. Young athletes are naturally drawn to sports where success brings recognition, financial stability and national fame. When one sport monopolises the spotlight, others struggle to build similar appeal. Beyond Result Lakshya Sen may have finished runner-up again, but his performance at the All England Championship is a reminder that India continues to produce world-class athletes in disciplines beyond cricket. The real issue is not that cricket receives immense attention -- it deserves the admiration it gets. The concern is that athletes from other sports often do not receive comparable appreciation for achievements that are equally significant in their own arenas. If India aspires to become a truly global sporting nation, its applause must grow broader. Sporting pride cannot remain confined to one field. Because somewhere on a badminton court, an athlete like Lakshya Sen is fighting just as hard for the country’s colours as any cricketer on a packed stadium pitch. The only difference is how loudly the nation chooses to cheer.

An Inspector Calls

The murder of Raja Raghuvanshi stunned Meghalaya, but the state’s police force swiftly cracked the case and salvaged its honour.

Meghalaya
Meghalaya

Meghalaya is not typically associated with violent crime. Yet the calculated murder of Raja Raghuvanshi, whose honeymoon in the quiet hills of the northeastern state ended in a brutal betrayal by his wife Sonam, has shattered Meghalaya’s peace.


Amid the nationwide outcry and the expected media circus, it was the Meghalaya Police that rose to the occasion with professionalism and calm resolve in cracking an often-bizarre case.


When Sonam Raghuvanshi and her husband checked out of a homestay in the postcard-pretty village of Nongriat on May 23, no one suspected that Raja would never be seen alive again. Yet, less than two weeks later, his decomposing body was recovered from a gorge in Cherrapunji.


Initially, the victim’s family, outraged and grieving, demanded a CBI probe and denounced the Meghalaya Police as inefficient. But that assessment swiftly changed when, in the span of a week, the state’s police force, assisted by a specially-formed SIT, unravelled a case that stretched from Shillong to Ghazipur to Sagar.


They traced the web of phone calls, pieced together surveillance footage, tracked down the four contract killers, secured a confession, and finally brought to light the shadowy figure of ‘Sanjay Verma’ - the supposedly mysterious man with whom Sonam had spoken over 230 times in a span of just over a month.


‘Sanjay’ was none other than Raj Kushwaha, Sonam’s former lover, and the alleged mastermind of the plot. To avoid suspicion, Sonam had saved his number under a false identity. Mobile records show that between March 1 and April 8, Sonam and Raj/Sanjay spoke for up to an hour per call, meticulous planning the crime, say authorities.


On June 8, just hours after the arrest of the three hitmen, Sonam had surfaced in Ghazipur, surrendered herself, and confessed. Her cousin, Jitendra Raghuvanshi, is also alleged to have financed the first instalment for Raja’s murder.


Under pressure from both families and the national media, the SIT and the Meghalaya police have performed splendidly. In a political landscape where state police forces are often dismissed as sluggish, corrupt or incompetent, the Meghalaya Police delivered in spades.


The case has also cast a spotlight on Meghalaya’s tourism infrastructure. Questions were raised about the absence of a tourist guide with the couple. But as Tourism Minister Paul Lyngdoh rightly pointed out, the state cannot compel visitors to take guides. The couple chose to venture alone. What the state can do is strengthen safety protocols and work more closely with the tourism sector to enhance oversight. For it takes only one gruesome murder to unfairly sully the image of a region known more for its hospitality and tranquillity than homicide.


None of this will bring Raja Raghuvanshi back. His coldly premeditated murder is a reminder that even the most scenic places are not immune to urban cruelties. But Meghalaya, lauded for its scenery, has now shown that it can also be a model for competent policing.


In the age of viral trials and public outrage, the Meghalaya Police have followed the evidence, acted without fear or favour, and upheld the rule of law. Their use of digital forensics, phone records and inter-state coordination was textbook. There was no sensationalism, no premature leaks and no unnecessary detentions; just quiet, competent work. Even under pressure from a sceptical public and the victim’s grieving family, they maintained composure and procedural integrity.


This is not just a vindication of their methods but a lesson to larger, richer, better-equipped forces across India. The Meghalaya authorities have shown that even in a state which rarely makes headlines, justice, when pursued with rigour and humility, can prevail.


In doing so, they not only solved a brutal crime but also defended the dignity of their state. At a time when public trust in law enforcement is frayed, the Meghalaya Police have reminded the country what effective policing can look like even in the remotest corners of the Northeast.


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