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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.

Golden Sales Tax: How GST has become India’s most important Reform in Decades

Once derided as the ‘Gabbar Singh Tax,’ the Goods and Services Tax has gone from being a political impossibility to India’s economic mainstay.

When India unveiled its Goods and Services Tax (GST) in July 2017, the scepticism was deafening. Opposition politicians sneered at it as a “Gabbar Singh Tax” (in a nod to Bollywood’s most notorious villain), arguing it would cripple small businesses and weigh down households already groaning under inflation. Regional parties warned of a fiscal power grab by New Delhi. Even some of its advocates whispered doubts about whether such an ambitious overhaul could withstand India’s notoriously fractious federal politics.

 

Eight years later, the system looks less like a reckless gamble and more like a golden milestone. The GST has grown into a cornerstone of India’s fiscal architecture, helping to expand the tax base, simplify compliance and fatten government coffers. More importantly, it has changed the daily rhythm of economic life by streamlining trade, lowering costs on essentials and reducing the opacity that once defined India’s patchwork of levies. It has not been a perfect reform. But as it matures, what was once mocked as impossible has come to embody both fiscal modernity and political willpower.

 

Fiscal chaos

Pre-GST India was a labyrinth of taxes. A shopper buying a refrigerator or a trader moving goods across state borders faced not only the Value Added Tax (VAT) but also a barrage of other levies like entry taxes, central sales taxes, entertainment taxes, luxury taxes and more. In theory, VAT rates looked lighter, typically 0 percent, 4 percent, or 12.5 percent. In practice, the combined burden often climbed to between 25 percent and 45 percent.


The distortions were glaring. Toothpaste, soap, and cooking oil could attract levies as high as 27 percent. Bicycles, a staple for low-income households, faced a 16 percent rate. Home appliances such as washing machines or televisions endured a punishing 31.3 percent. Worse still, every state guarded its taxing rights jealously, erecting bureaucratic barriers that slowed commerce and fuelled bribery. Trucks laden with goods routinely lined up at state borders, where taxes were levied and palms greased. Corruption and evasion thrived.


GST sought to sweep away this maze and replace it with a unified regime. Today, staples such as rice, wheat, pulses, and milk are tax-free. Everyday necessities like soap or toothpaste face just 5 percent. Refrigerators and washing machines are taxed at 18 percent, not 31 percent. Chocolates and sweets, once at 31 percent, are now at 5 percent. These changes have translated into visible relief for households, especially the poor and middle class.


For farmers and labourers, GST has also been transformative. Tractors and their parts, once taxed at nearly 18 percent, are now at 5 percent. Irrigation equipment and fertilizers have been brought down from 12 percent to 5 percent. The ubiquitous three-wheeler, which provides livelihoods for millions, was once charged at 28 percent but now stands at just 5 percent. Even small cars and motorcycles, long seen as luxuries, face lighter treatment.


Healthcare has been a striking beneficiary. Medical supplies saw their rates slashed from 12 percent to 5 percent. Premiums for health and life insurance have been exempted altogether. These adjustments may look modest on paper, but in practice they have helped cushion households against economic shocks while underscoring the state’s role in safeguarding well-being.

 

Widening inclusion

For the exchequer, the benefits have been dramatic. In 2013-14, before GST, indirect tax collections stood at Rs. 4.96 trillion. By 2024-25, GST alone yielded Rs. 22.8 trillion. This surge was not merely the result of higher rates but of a broader, more transparent base. Digitised systems and invoice-matching have made it harder to evade taxes, while the simplified structure has encouraged compliance.


The numbers also tell a story of widening inclusion. In 2017, there were just 6.65 million registered taxpayers. By 2025, that figure had swelled to over 15 million. A Deloitte survey found that 85 percent of micro, small and medium-sized enterprises (MSMEs) and nearly 90 percent of industrial firms expressed satisfaction with the regime. For a country where tax collection has long been stymied by informality and distrust, such acceptance marks a cultural as much as an economic shift.

 

The idea of GST was hardly new when Narendra Modi’s government finally implemented it. Atal Bihari Vajpayee first floated the concept in 2000, setting up an empowered committee to draft a framework. The proposal resurfaced under Manmohan Singh’s United Progressive Alliance (UPA), which in 2006 set a target of 2010 for implementation. A constitutional amendment bill was introduced in 2011, only to lapse with the expiry of the 15th Lok Sabha.

 

The obstacles were legion. States balked at surrendering their revenue streams, particularly on lucrative items like petroleum and alcohol. Disputes over compensation dragged on for years. Even BJP-ruled Gujarat and Madhya Pradesh demanded strong safeguards before signing up. The UPA, beset by coalition compulsions, failed to bridge the gap. GST became a symbol of paralysis.The Modi government, by contrast, pushed doggedly ahead. In 2015, the Lok Sabha passed the GST Bill, but it took until August 2016 for Arun Jaitley, then finance minister, to coax consensus in the Rajya Sabha. By July 2017, the new regime was launched with much fanfare—and no shortage of hiccups. Businesses complained of technical glitches, frequent rate changes, and compliance burdens. Critics accused the government of rushing through an unready system. Yet the architecture held.

 

The GST’s journey from derision to acceptance has been powered by steady reform. The GST Council, the federal body overseeing implementation, has gradually simplified structures, rationalised rates, and expanded exemptions. September 2025 marks yet another milestone, as new reforms take effect to streamline compliance and widen relief.


At its inception, GST was painted as a villain, threatening livelihoods and fiscal federalism. Today, it is increasingly hailed as the “Golden Sparkling Tax” - a system that has not only boosted revenues but also delivered tangible benefits across society.

 

That said, the GST is no panacea. Critics rightly argue that its multiple rate slabs still complicate matters, and that its initial design failed to shield small traders from compliance headaches. Disputes between the Centre and states over compensation continue to simmer. And like any broad tax, it cannot by itself solve deeper challenges of inequality or informality.


Yet judged against the chaos it replaced, GST represents a profound shift. It has brought a measure of simplicity and transparency to one of the world’s most complex economies. It has demonstrated that, in a country where reform is often hostage to political squabbling, consensus is not impossible. And it has shown that taxation, when done right, can be more than a means of filling state coffers; it can be a lever for fairness, efficiency, and even unity.

 

The story of GST is thus as political as it is economic. The UPA, despite its economist prime minister, could not muster the will to deliver. The NDA, propelled by political dominance and a hunger to leave its imprint, did. That determination, combined with broad public acceptance, turned what was once deemed unattainable into reality.


As India marches deeper into the twenty-first century, GST stands as both a fiscal instrument and a metaphor. It illustrates how an idea dismissed as folly can, with persistence and compromise, become a foundation.

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