top of page

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.

Holy Retreat

The revocation of the land pooling scheme in Ujjain lays bare the limits of political authority.

Madhya Pradesh
Madhya Pradesh

Few spectacles test the Indian state quite like the Kumbh Mela. It blends faith, logistics and politics on a civilisational scale. Yet in Ujjain, where the Simhastha Kumbh is due in 2028, the Madhya Pradesh government has discovered that even the most sanctified ambitions can founder on the stubborn realities of land, livelihood and consent.


This week the government quietly but decisively scrapped its land pooling scheme aimed at acquiring 2,378 hectares across 17 villages to build permanent infrastructure for the Simhastha. The move followed weeks of farmer mobilisation, threats of fresh agitation and more tellingly, dissent from within the ruling Bharatiya Janata Party (BJP) ranks.


The scheme, unveiled earlier this year, was ambitious to the point of hubris. Unlike previous Simhasthas, where farmland was temporarily acquired for a few months with compensation, the new plan envisaged a permanent Kumbh city. Roads, ashrams, hospitals, underground drainage, electricity networks and government buildings were to rise on what is now agricultural land. An estimated Rs. 2,000 crore would be spent to prepare for an expected footfall of over 12 crore pilgrims, almost double the turnout in 2016.


For Chief Minister Mohan Yadav, the proposal carried personal and political weight. As the MLA from Ujjain South, transforming the temple town into a year-round pilgrimage hub would have been a signature achievement. It would also have aligned neatly with the BJP’s broader strategy of marrying religious symbolism with visible infrastructure.


However, this has run into rough weather with between 5,000 and 8,000 farmer families standing to lose land that has sustained them for generations. Land pooling, with its promises of future development gains, may appeal in urbanising corridors. In sacred geography, where land is livelihood rather than asset class, it looks more like disguised expropriation.


Soon enough, tractor rallies rolled through Ujjain while meetings hardened into threats of indefinite strikes. The Bharatiya Kisan Sangh (BKS), not a habitual adversary of the BJP, given its RSS lineage, accused the government of betrayal. Its call for a “dera dalo, ghera dalo” agitation from December 26 is a warning shot from within the Sangh ecosystem itself.


The government attempted a familiar manoeuvre: tactical retreat disguised as clarification. On November 17 it amended the scheme, limiting compulsory acquisition to land needed for roads, water and sewage, while exempting other infrastructure. However, the farmers and the BKS saw through it, accusing the government of duplicity.


The final reversal in this episode has been scrapping the town development schemes entirely under the Town and Country Planning Act, which was alter framed as an act of “public interest.” In reality, it was an act of political triage. With state elections behind it but local anger simmering, the BJP chose containment over confrontation.


The episode exposes a deeper contradiction in India’s development politics. The state is increasingly eager to monumentalise religion by building corridors, plazas and permanent infrastructures around sites of worship. But faith-based urbanism often collides with rural India’s fragile social contract. Farmers may tolerate temporary disruption in the name of dharma. Permanent dispossession is another matter.


It also underlines the limits of ideological alignment. The BJP’s long-held assumption that farmer discontent can be managed through cultural affinity rather than economic justice has been repeatedly tested—from the repealed farm laws to localised agitations such as this one. When livelihoods are at stake, symbolism offers thin protection.

Comments


bottom of page