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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.

From Reel to Real: Can Actor Vijay Rewrite Tamil Nadu’s Political Script?

An icon’s fanfare is no substitute for political substance in the world’s most theatrically competitive state.

Cinema and politics have long shared a complicated romance in Tamil Nadu. The state’s political landscape, ever so vibrant, has historically been shaped by the intersection of mass appeal and ideological fervour. In the post-independence era, Tamil cinema did not just reflect society but actively shaped political narratives, with actors stepping into politics as charismatic protagonists of change. M.G. Ramachandran (MGR) and J. Jayalalithaa remain emblematic of this phenomenon as stars who became power brokers, blending celluloid heroism with political strategy to build enduring legacies. Their careers underscored that success was not guaranteed by screen presence alone but required a savvy mix of grassroots organisation, ideological commitment and strategic alliances.


Though whispers of political ambition first surfaced in 2020, Vijay’s formal foray came only in February 2024, with the TVK’s launch heralded as a potential game-changer. His inaugural public salvo in Vikravandi saw him sharply criticising both the DMK and the Bharatiya Janata Party (BJP), deriding their indecision on the National Education Policy as the behaviour of “kindergarten students.” While it was a bold remark, Tamil Nadu’s political theatre demands more than a few soundbites.


The political history of the state provides cautionary tales. MGR did not ascend overnight. His success was built on decades of association with the Dravidian movement, commitment to social justice, and shrewd organisational expansion. Jayalalithaa, too, transformed early scepticism about her political acumen into long-term dominance, combining grassroots connect with a highly disciplined party machine. Their genius lay in turning cinematic personas into political symbols while embedding themselves in the party apparatus and the popular imagination.


Tamil identity

The roots of this phenomenon trace back to the 1950s, when C.N. Annadurai’s DravidaMunnetraKazhagam (DMK) broke the Congress’s monopoly in the state, promoting Tamil identity, anti-Hindi agitation, and social justice as rallying causes. The DMK’s dramatic rise in 1967 came amid mounting opposition to perceived northern dominance, cultural imposition, and caste hierarchies. It was the first successful challenge to the national party after independence, reshaping Tamil Nadu’s politics into a battleground of regionalism and populism. By contrast, the AIADMK’s formation in 1972 was born of internal dissent within the DMK, led by MGR, himself an icon of popular culture and Dravidian ideology. His ability to merge mass appeal with political activism allowed the AIADMK to challenge and often supplant the DMK in subsequent decades, with Jayalalithaa emerging as a political titan in the 1990s. The rivalry between the two Dravidian giants has since defined Tamil Nadu’s political discourse, often eclipsing national parties like the Congress and BJP, which remain marginal forces in the state.


Conversely, the experiences of Sivaji Ganesan and Kamal Haasan offer stark warnings. Ganesan, lauded as one of Tamil cinema’s greatest actors, failed to convert public adulation into political influence. His political outings remained largely ceremonial, lacking sustained mass mobilisation. Kamal Haasan’sMakkalNeedhiMaiam (MNM), despite a high-profile launch and civic activism, has struggled electorally, unable to breach even the five per cent threshold in assembly polls. Today, MNM plays a marginal role, often reduced to aligning with the DMK rather than charting its own course.


Vijayakanth’s DesiyaMurpokku Dravida Kazhagam (DMDK) provides another sobering precedent. The party once looked promising, securing nearly 9 per cent of the vote in the 2006 assembly elections, challenging the established duopoly. Yet poor organisational depth, erratic alliances, and his eventual ill health led the party into political oblivion within a decade. The political arena, especially in Tamil Nadu, is unforgiving to those who mistake celebrity for strategy.


Vijay appears to have taken note of these historical lessons. His early political messaging emphasises Dravidian pride, social justice and anti-corruption - core themes that have long resonated in Tamil Nadu’s public discourse. But words, however well-crafted, must now be accompanied by action. The crux of TVK’s challenge is structural: transforming Vijay’s popularity into a disciplined political machine capable of sustained electoral engagement.


The paradox of Tamil Nadu’s political culture lies in its dual demand for star charisma and organisationalrigour. A fan base that fills auditoriums and floods social media is not automatically a political cadre. To contest and win, a party must build a presence at the booth level, nurture second-line leaders, and develop coherent policy positions that appeal beyond the spectacle of personal charisma. At present, Vijay remains the TVK’s singular political face which can be a potentially dangerous concentration of authority.


Speculation about a tie-up with the AIADMK persists, though such a move could undermine TVK’s claim of presenting a fresh alternative. Voters in Tamil Nadu, long accustomed to ideological battles between the Dravidian giants, will demand clarity: Is TVK a genuine political revolution or a repackaging of star power? Clear policy proposals on education, employment, industrial development, and social welfare will be essential to answer this question.


The Rajinikanth Factor

No discussion of Tamil cinema’s political ambitions is complete without the shadow of Rajinikanth. The superstar toyed with political plans for years, only to withdraw citing health concerns and the inherent unpredictability of the political process. His retreat highlighted a hard truth: Tamil Nadu’s electorate may revere stardom, but it does not easily forgive lack of substance or ideological direction.


Rajinikanth had toyed with the idea of ‘spiritual politics’ - a vision divorced from the deeply secular, anti-Brahmin, and social justice-oriented foundations of the Dravidian movement. His equivocation exposed the mismatch between celebrity persona and political ideology. Vijay now faces that same test. His challenge is not merely to represent nostalgia for cinematic greatness, but to ground his movement in tangible demands and ideological consistency.


Acid Test

The next assembly elections, scheduled for 2026, loom as Vijay’s first real political test. History shows that Tamil Nadu’s political shifts occurred when leaders created palpable waves—whether it was the DMK’s triumph in 1967, ousting the Congress on a wave of anti-Hindi sentiment, or the AIADMK’s spectacular entry in 1977, capitalising on the charisma and populism of MGR.


Yet, beyond electoral arithmetic lies the historical legacy of caste mobilisation and welfare politics.


The Dravidian movement itself was founded on anti-caste narratives, challenging Brahminical domination and uplifting backward castes. Welfare populism pioneered by MGR and later Jayalalithaa has redefined state-citizen relations, from subsidised food to social security schemes.


Vijay’s TVK will need to position itself within this historical trajectory else risk fading into irrelevance. For TVK to emulate such feats, it must first evolve from a one-man show into a party with institutional depth. This entails building local leadership, formulating credible policy platforms, and investing in organisational machinery that extends beyond flash-in-the-pan campaigns. The temptation to rely solely on Vijay’s star power will be a strategic folly.


Moreover, Tamil Nadu’s electorate has matured. Voters no longer respond simply to the cult of personality; they expect detailed positions on pressing issues: job creation in the face of a slowing economy, improving public education, reforming health infrastructure, and navigating caste dynamics that remain potent political fault lines.


As the curtain rises on this new chapter, the stakes are high. Will Vijay merely be a passing comet – bright and dazzling but ultimately ephemeral or will he succeed in crafting a political legacy that stands apart from those of his predecessors? The answer lies not in cinematic drama but in whether he can ensure discipline, a strong organisation and policy coherence.

(The writer is a Bengaluru-based political commentator. Views personal.)

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