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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.

Drawing the Line

The Madhya Pradesh High Court has delivered a necessary rebuke to the habitual mockery of Hindu symbols and institutions masquerading as satire.

Madhya Pradesh
Madhya Pradesh

In a democracy, the right to free speech is sacrosanct. But when that freedom is wielded not as a tool for debate but as a cudgel to insult, deride and provoke, especially on religious grounds, there must be consequences. The Madhya Pradesh High Court has reminded the country that the constitutional right to freedom of expression under Article 19(1)(a) does not offer immunity to deliberate malice when it mocks gods, defames institutions and sows discord.


The Indore bench of the High Court refused anticipatory bail to Hemant Malviya, a local cartoonist accused of posting a caricature maligning the Rashtriya Swayamsevak Sangh (RSS), Prime Minister Narendra Modi, and most controversially, Lord Shiva. The court’s ruling was unequivocal. “The applicant clearly overstepped the threshold of freedom of speech and expression,” the judge said, describing the cartoon as not only demeaning but “a deliberate and malicious attempt to outrage religious feelings.”


The offence, registered after a complaint by an RSS worker, included sections under India’s new criminal code and the IT Act. At issue was not merely satire or political lampooning, but the targeted insult of Hindu sentiment through an unholy mash-up of religious iconography and political caricature.


Some may argue that cartoons, even offensive ones, must be protected in the spirit of democracy. And indeed, democracy dies when dissent is silenced. But it also frays when only certain faiths, figures or ideologies are held up to ridicule while others are treated as sacred cows, immune from even mild scrutiny. The double standards in Indian public discourse are glaring. A caricature of Lord Shiva prompts laughter in elite circles, but a cartoon of the Prophet Mohammed has set nations ablaze, leading to murder.


To be sure, freedom of expression cannot and should not be selectively applied when it comes to any religion. But that is precisely what has become the norm in India. There is a lopsided liberalism at play where ‘artistic freedom’ is evoked when Hindu deities are lampooned or when the Prime Minister is portrayed as a tyrant, but silence prevails when real blasphemy laws are applied in cases involving Islam. One wonders what the reaction would have been had Malviya’s cartoon featured the Prophet, or for that matter Jesus Christ. The likely answer would have been outrage fanned across continents.


For decades, India’s political and cultural establishment has normalised ridicule of the Hindu faith. From lampooning the RSS as ‘fascists’ to portraying deities in vulgar settings, the media, academia and self-styled liberals have revelled in a peculiar brand of secularism that grants protection to minorities while scorning the majority.


Contrast the legal leniency shown to those mocking Hindu beliefs with the impunity that still surrounds far graver offences. No major figure has ever been punished for inciting the 1984 anti-Sikh riots. To question those legacies is to risk being branded ‘communal’ or ‘regressive.’ But to smear Hindu traditions or call the RSS a terrorist group is somehow progressive.


The same constitution that upholds Article 19(1)(a) also limits it through Article 19(2), allowing “reasonable restrictions” on grounds of public order, morality and decency. The Malviya case falls squarely within these limits. His actions were not a mere critique of power or a clever skit of resistance but, in the court’s words, “prejudicial to the maintenance of harmony in the society.”


What the court has done is not to silence dissent, but to reaffirm that freedom is not a licence for abuse.


As India evolves as a pluralist democracy, courts must walk the tightrope between upholding liberty and preventing social strife. The Madhya Pradesh High Court, in this case, has walked that line with clarity and courage. Far from being an affront to free speech, its verdict is a much-needed assertion that no right is absolute, and that accountability applies equally to all -cartoonist or cleric, activist or artist.

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