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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.

Federal Farce

India’s federal compact was never meant to resemble street theatre. Yet that is precisely what unfolded in Tamil Nadu and Kerala, where opening sessions of the Assemblies degenerated into petty skirmishes between Raj Bhavans and elected governments. Governors deserve scrutiny for overreach. But what played out on January 20 says as much about the studied belligerence of two state governments that have turned constitutional convention into a contact sport.


Start with Tamil Nadu. Governor R.N. Ravi’s decision to walk out of the Assembly without delivering his address was dramatic, ill-judged and constitutionally questionable. But the stage for that walkout was carefully set by the ruling DMK. The Speaker’s insistence that the Governor read only what the Cabinet had approved, delivered with the pugnacious aside that “only MLAs can express opinion in the House,” reflected not reverence for convention but contempt for dialogue. Tamil Nadu’s government treated it as an opportunity to box the Governor into a corner and then feign outrage when he refused to play along.


The subsequent statements from Raj Bhavan, disputing the state’s extravagant investment claims and invoking disrespect to the national anthem, only deepened the ugliness. But it is worth asking why such disputes routinely explode in Tamil Nadu. The answer lies less in New Delhi’s alleged conspiracies than in Chennai’s habit of governing by provocation. The DMK has discovered that permanent confrontation with the Governor serves its political narrative as it keeps the Centre in the dock.


Kerala’s episode was no less revealing. Governor Rajendra Vishwanath Arlekar delivered his address and left, only for Chief Minister Pinarayi Vijayan to return to the House to announce solemnly that the Governor had tampered with Cabinet-approved paragraphs. The offending omissions concerned fiscal federalism and pending Bills, subjects dear to the Left Democratic Front’s sense of grievance. Vijayan’s declaration that the Cabinet’s version would prevail was less a constitutional clarification than a performative assertion of supremacy.


Governors are not meant to rewrite policy. But nor are Assemblies meant to retroactively overrule a Governor’s address by executive fiat. Kerala’s government could have placed its objections on record or sought judicial clarity. Instead, it chose to dramatize the dispute, turning the Assembly into a forum for moral grandstanding.


Together, these episodes expose a deeper malaise. State governments, particularly those ruled by parties opposed to the BJP, have begun to treat Governors not as constitutional functionaries to be constrained by process, but as political foils to be publicly humiliated.


The irony is rich. Tamil Nadu and Kerala style themselves as guardians of constitutional morality, federalism and democratic norms. Yet, by weaponizing Assembly proceedings against Governors, they weaken the very conventions they claim to defend.


None of this absolves Governors who stray into partisan commentary or obstructionism. India has no shortage of such examples. But federalism cannot be sustained if elected governments respond to irritation with institutional vandalism. Assemblies are not arenas for settling scores with Raj Bhavans. 


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