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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.

Burnt by the System

A horrifying protest in Odisha lays bare the collapse of institutional justice.


Odisha
Odisha

The gruesome death of a 20-year-old student at an autonomous college in Odisha, who set herself ablaze in a desperate protest against inaction on her complaint of sexual harassment by a professor, has ignited a firestorm of public fury while exposing the rot in India’s campus justice systems.

 

It has also cast an unforgiving spotlight on how Indian educational institutions, far from being places of safety and learning, have become sites of intimidation.

 

Earlier this week, the student, who was pursuing her B.Ed at Fakir Mohan Autonomous College walked towards the principal’s office, doused herself in kerosene and struck a match. She died three days later in an ICU in Bhubaneswar, having suffered burns to 95 percent of her body.

 

Her final act has shaken Odisha and much of India to its core, besides leading to the inevitable political slanging match.

 

The young woman had lodged a complaint on July 1, accusing the head of the education department of months of sexual harassment. She uploaded the complaint on social media, tagged student leaders and even posted chilling premonitions of her own death. She did everything a victim is told to do - complain through official channels and call for help.

 

Ten days later, amid mounting frustration, she and fellow students staged a protest. She had been promised resolution in seven days; instead, she was hounded. According to her father, the professor intimidated her and the college principal threatened rustication. The college’s Internal Complaints Committee gave the professor a clean chit.

 

Then came the self-immolation. It took her death for the police to arrest both the professor and principal and promises of justice from Odisha’s newly-elected Chief Minister, Mohan Charan Majhi.

 

Committees are being formed. But none of it can douse the inferno of rage sparked by the tragedy. The shameful incident is a damning indictment of the systemic rot in Indian academia. The Internal Complaints Committees, mandated by law after the Vishaka judgment and reinforced by the 2013 Sexual Harassment of Women at Workplace Act, are often toothless or compromised. In many institutions, especially in smaller towns, the committees serve more as shields for the accused than sanctuaries for the victims. Professors wield enormous influence over marksheets, careers, and reputations; a female student who dares complain often finds herself isolated and stigmatised.

 

In recent years, campuses across India have witnessed similar eruptions where students were punished for naming their abusers and protestors baton-charged for demanding action.


The power asymmetry between faculty and students, compounded by patriarchy and bureaucracy, ensures that many cases never see the light of day.

 

The political response has followed a grimly predictable arc. The Congress, sensing an opportunity, called it “organised murder by the system.” Rahul Gandhi accused the ruling BJP of enabling a culture of silence and complicity. The BJP, in turn, accused the opposition of politicising a tragedy.

 

Caught in the crossfire are grieving parents, stunned classmates, and a public that has seen this film far too many times. Governor Hari Babu Kambhampati has demanded a detailed report from the state government. Meanwhile, protests have erupted across Odisha, with opposition parties calling for a statewide bandh. Questions are also being raised about the conduct of the post-mortem, held at 2am, under police watch.

 

Perhaps the most haunting aspect of this case is not just the act of self-immolation, but how foreseeable it was. The victim had cried out for help in petitions and on social media. Her despair was visible, documented and shared. And yet, the institutional response was apathy laced with hostility. That she had to burn herself alive to be believed is a grotesque commentary on the failures of India’s educational and judicial systems.

 

In the wake of such a tragedy, it is tempting to focus on punishment. But the real challenge lies deeper. Unless Internal Complaints Committees are made genuinely independent and empowered and unless colleges are held accountable for safeguarding students, a similar incident is only waiting to happen.

 

We cannot let India’s campuses become cremation grounds for its daughters.

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