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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.

Hollow Piety

West Bengal’s chief minister has turned Durga Puja into a theatre of appeasement, where faith is subordinated to the survival instincts of her party.

West Bengal
West Bengal

The clang of the dhak and the reverent throngs around Kolkata’s puja pandals are usually a reminder of Bengal’s most cherished festival, the Durga Puja. But it seems that under Chief Minister Mamata Banerjee, even the state’s most sacred spaces are not immune to the corrosive logic of her politics.


Last week, Banerjee inaugurated several pandals across Kolkata in what should have been a conventional gesture embracing Bengal’s cultural grandeur at the start of West Bengal’s most festive season. Instead, the controversial CM turned it into a brazen theatre of appeasement. At the BhowaniporeShitala Mandir pandal, Madan Mitra, a senior Trinamool Congress (TMC) leader, broke into a song that was not any hymn to Goddess Durga, but an Islamic nasheed praising Mecca and Medina. Banerjee, far from objecting, clapped along approvingly.


Mitra later sought to soften the act by tacking on references to the Ganga and Yamuna. But the intended damage was done. The incident was no ‘innocent’ slip but a calculated gesture that fits seamlessly into Banerjee’s long record of pandering to minority sentiment at the cost of majority traditions.


The opposition was quick to pounce. The BJP’s Amit Malviya accused Banerjee of trampling on Sanatani beliefs, citing this as proof that the TMC had crossed the “limit of appeasement politics.” The charge is not unfounded. This is the same government that withdrew funding from a Durga pandal themed on Operation Sindoor, deeming it politically inconvenient.


Such decisions reveal a state policy where even cultural expression is vetted for conformity with the ruling party’s electoral calculus.


Banerjee’s defenders insist this is much ado about nothing. They argue that the CM, a Brahmin who has led countless Puja inaugurations, is being unfairly maligned. They dismiss the controversy over her covering her head during the ceremonies as a gesture to shield herself from the rain.


Yet these defences ring hollow. For years, Banerjee has cultivated an image of syncretism, but in practice she has deployed symbolism as a political weapon, calibrated less to unify than to fragment.


Ever since the TMC supplanted Bengal’s Communist regime, Mamata’s tenure has been punctuated by a series of controversies that underscore her penchant for political theatrics over principled governance. In 2011, shortly after assuming office, her government faced accusations of excessive centralisation of power, with key decisions bypassing cabinet processes and bureaucratic protocols. She has repeatedly clashed with the judiciary and media, including the 2014 incident when journalists covering her administration’s handling of the Saradha chit-fund scam were intimidated. Her handling of law and order, notably in the Nandigram and Singur land acquisition disputes, exposed heavy-handed crackdowns on protesters.


In a state where Muslim voters account for over a quarter of the electorate, Banerjee has made appeasement the organising principle of governance. Every symbolic gesture is weighed against its impact on the ballot box.


The irony is that instead of enhancing Bengal’s communal harmony, it has deepened polarisation. The BJP, once a marginal force in the state, has built a formidable base by exploiting precisely this vacuum of credibility. Each TMC misstep strengthens the perception that the ruling party does not merely mismanage the state but actively undermines its cultural fabric.


This instrumentalization of Durga Puja is especially corrosive because the festival is not just a religious occasion but a cultural cornerstone of Bengal’s identity. To reduce it to a stage for clumsy electoral manoeuvres is to hollow out its meaning.


For all her populist instincts, the state’s economic stagnation, corruption scandals and major law-and-order crises have eroded the TMC’s standing. Instead of course correction, Mamata has doubled down on the politics of symbolism. It may yield short-term gains, but it leaves Bengal’s social fabric frayed and its traditions politicised beyond recognition.


Durga Puja has survived centuries of upheaval, from colonial neglect to communist austerity. It will endure Mamata Banerjee too.

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