Breaking the Peloton

Harshita Jakhar’s appearance at the Tour de France Femmes is signals India’s arrival in sporting arenas long dominated by Europe. India’s sporting successes have traditionally been concentrated in disciplines where geography or colonial legacy created favourable conditions. While cricket grew into a national religion, hockey delivered decades of global dominance. Wrestling, badminton, shooting and now, increasingly, chess have flourished through sustained investment and nurturing of talent. ...

min read

Harshita Jakhar’s appearance at the Tour de France Femmes is signals India’s arrival in sporting arenas long dominated by Europe. India’s sporting successes have traditionally been concentrated in disciplines where geography or colonial legacy created favourable conditions. While cricket grew into a national religion, hockey delivered decades of global dominance. Wrestling, badminton, shooting and now, increasingly, chess have flourished through sustained investment and nurturing of talent. Yet some disciplines have remained stubbornly foreign. The Tour de France, for instance, with its punishing mountain stages, century-old European traditions and deeply entrenched professional circuits, belonged firmly to this category. This seemingly impregnable bastion has now been breached by 19-year-old Harshita Jakhar, whose recently became the first Indian woman to feature at the Tour de France Femmes, cycling alongside emerging riders from Afghanistan, Algeria, Chile, Ethiopia, Namibia and Uganda under the Union Cycliste Internationale’s World Cycling Talent Programme. While Harshita’s ride through the ceremonial opening of Stage Two of the 2026 Tour de France Femmes may have lasted barely 4.5 kilometres, it was a moment of great import and symbolism. The Tour de France is to cycling what Wimbledon is to tennis. It has been built over generations of mythology and European dominance. For Indian cyclists, merely entering that ecosystem has long seemed a distant aspiration. Harshita’s entry was a signal that despite the barriers still remaining formidable, they are no longer insurmountable. Her participation in this elite event mirrors a broader transformation in Indian sport. With a rise in incomes and an improvement in sporting infrastructure, upwardly mobile Indian families are willing to back unconventional careers. As a result, many young Indians are now venturing into disciplines once regarded as almost exclusively European preserves. Alpine skiing, equestrian events, sailing, rowing and endurance cycling are no longer exotic curiosities reserved for white men and women. The pattern extends well beyond cycling. In 2009, Reena Kaushal Dharmshaktu became the first Indian woman to ski from the Antarctic coast to the South Pole in 2009, while Kaamya Karthikeyan reached the Pole last year as the youngest Indian to do so. Their achievements have expanded the boundaries of what Indians could plausibly aspire to achieve. Harshita’s ride belongs to this tradition. Her own journey has been remarkably grounded. Raised in Rajasthan, she trained at the Sports Authority of India’s National Centre of Excellence in Patiala under the watchful eye of her father, Rakesh Jakhar, himself a former cyclist who competed at the 2010 Commonwealth Games in New Delhi. She snared three gold medals at the 2025 Khelo India Youth Games, which announced her as one of India’s brightest cycling prospects. Earlier, she had collected a silver and two bronze medals at the 2024 Asian Junior Cycling Championships, demonstrating that her promise extended well beyond domestic competition. Cycling presents challenges unlike most Olympic sports with a lot riding on the quality of sporting ecosystems. Unlike India, Europe possesses thousands of kilometres of dedicated cycling routes, professional clubs, sophisticated racing calendars and generations of accumulated expertise. Young riders grow up immersed in a culture where road racing is woven into everyday life. India is only beginning to construct comparable foundations. That makes programmes such as the UCI World Cycling Talent Programme especially valuable. For talents like Harshita, exposure to elite competition cannot be replicated in training camps alone. Riding alongside the world’s best, absorbing tactical nuances, learning race management and simply becoming comfortable within cycling’s highest circles all contribute towards the fulfilment of promise. India’s sporting story increasingly depends on precisely these forms of international integration. Two decades ago, an Indian woman participating in an event associated with the Tour de France would have seemed implausible. But Harshita’s presence has now shattered those barriers. By representing India at one of cycling’s grandest stages, Harshita has expanded the country’s sporting horizon. Young Indian cyclists watching her in Switzerland may now imagine themselves competing in races that previously existed only on television. Her appearance, however symbolic, is part of a tradition where young Indians have begun appearing in sports like Formula racing, rowing, fencing, squash and equestrian events - disciplines that once seemed distant from the country’s sporting DNA. For generations, the peloton belonged almost entirely to Europe. Now, it is making room for the rest of the world. Harshita Jakhar’s ride in Switzerland has shown that India now belongs to the conversation.

Cinematic Genius, Tragic Life

Shoma A. Chatterji
Apr 15, 2025
3 min read

Guru Dutt was born Gurudutt Padukone in Bangalore on 9 July 1925. His father, Shivshankar Rao Padukone, had married Vasanthi in 1923. The family, part of the Saraswat Mangalorean community, later moved to Bombay, where Dutt spent his early years in a modest Matunga flat. Shivshankar changed jobs often, and the family struggled financially. Dutt, the eldest of five, was followed by Atmaram, Lalitha, Devi, and Vijay. His name was eventually shortened to Guru Dutt.

In 1929, Vasanthi moved to Calcutta with the children; Shivshankar joined later and spent 30 years with Burma Shell. In Bhowanipur, Dutt became fond of jatra performances and soon spoke fluent Bengali. Vasanthi’s cousin, cinema-hoarding artist B.B. Benegal, also influenced the children. After school in 1940, Dutt briefly worked as a telephone operator before turning to dance. From 1942 to 1944, he trained in Oriental dance at Uday Shankar’s Almoracentre on a Rs 75 monthly scholarship but had to leave when it shut down.

His sister, Lalitha Lajmi, became one of India’s finest artists, while her daughter, Kalpana Lajmi, became a noted filmmaker. ShyamBenegal was a close family relative.

Dutt moved to Pune, then known as Poona, and joined Prabhat Studios on a three-year contract as a dance director, occasionally acting in B-grade films and assisting directors. There, he learnt the craft of filmmaking. He met Dev Anand on Hum Ek Hain (1946)—Dutt as dance director, Anand as lead—and they became lifelong friends. Returning to Bombay in 1947, Dutt remained unemployed for a year due to the post-Partition slump, later joining Gyan Mukherjee as an assistant.

Dutt debuted as a director with Baazi (1951), produced by Dev Anand’s Navketan Films. During its recording, he met singer Geeta Roy; they fell in love and married in 1953. The marriage, with three children, soon turned turbulent.

Baazi is remembered for S.D. Burman’s experimental ghazal Tadbeer Se Bigdi Hui Taqdeer Bana Le, set to Western music, and the choreography of SunoGajar Kya Gaaye. Dutt then launched his production house and made Baaz, acting opposite Geeta Bali. Jaal (1952), reportedly inspired by De Santis’s Bitter Rice (1948), broke clichés of Christians as carefree caricatures, portraying fishermen as hard-working and honest. Though framed as a thriller, it resonated as a love story with memorable songs. Its black-and-white visuals, shot by V.K. Murthy—who shot all of Dutt’s films—evoke deep nostalgia.

His first major hit was Aar Paar (1954), a stylish thriller with polished production. This was followed by Mr. & Mrs. 55 (1955), a breezy romance that hinted at women’s rights, and C.I.D. (1956), a gripping thriller that launched Waheeda Rehman’s career. His films stood out for their music, lyrical depth, and striking visuals.

Pyaasa (1957) was the first of Dutt’s tragic masterpieces, followed by KaagazKe Phool (1959) and Sahib Bibi Aur Ghulam (1962). In Pyaasa, Meena and Gulab—Vijay’s former lover and a compassionate prostitute—serve as emotional contrasts, amplifying the film’s impact without weakening its core message.

KaagazKe Phool remains one of Indian cinema’s finest self-reflexive films—a tribute to the studio era of the 1930s–40s. In one scene, Suresh, the director-protagonist, watches Vidyapati (1937), a classic of the time. The films he’s shown directing are real titles from Indian archives.

India’s first CinemaScope film, featured stunning cinematography by V.K. Murthy, who captured the studio mood using lighting and shadow. He balanced the narrative with the ‘film-within-a-film’ structure, using chiaroscuro to separate illusion from realism. The sets reflected two moods—success, with bright lights and bustle, and decline, as a solitary Suresh wanders through an empty studio.

The film also bears autobiographical undertones—Dutt’s elegy to himself, conveyed through script, imagery, and rhythm. A strained relationship with a leading lady reportedly caused rifts with Geeta Dutt. Battling insomnia, he drank during shoots and suffered depression. His premature death seemed tragically foretold in the film.

With Sahib Bibi Aur Ghulam (1962), Duttimmortalised a Bengali classic, drawing a landmark performance from Meena Kumari. Told in flashback, the story is framed by a decaying mansion and an ageing Bhootnath. It’s been compared to The Magnificent Ambersons and shares Viscontian qualities in its detail and quiet mourning of a lost world.

Shortly before his death, Dutt moved into a new flat, living alone with a servant. In October 1964, he died of a sleeping pill overdose, leaving behind his wife, three children, his banner, and the unfinished BahareinPhirBhiAayegi, which had to be re-shot.

His films—among the finest of the 1950s—gained international acclaim posthumously, screened at festivals in France, Italy, and the US, aired on British TV and were released in Paris. Pyaasa was also featured at a Tokyo festival. Ironically, it was death that brought Dutt the recognition he seemed to foresee in Pyaasa—that true artists are often valued only after they’re gone.

(The author is a film scholar. Views personal)