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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.

Marathi Mandate

The Maharashtra government has taken a commendable step to promote its native language. The Mahayuti administration’s recent directive making Marathi compulsory for all government, semi-government and local self-government offices, as well as state-run corporations and aided institutions is an ambitious effort to elevate Marathi’s role in public administration and governance. Officials will be required to use Marathi with visitors, excepting foreigners and non-Marathi speakers. Keyboards must include Marathi Devanagari script, with penalties for non-compliance.


The directive transcends the confines of the mere symbolism and extends to advertisements, official correspondence, tenders and notices - all of which must now be issued exclusively in Marathi. Even central government offices operating in Maharashtra are expected to comply, with signboards, application forms, and websites to be trilingual under the Centre’s policy, but with Marathi taking precedence.


In theory, this move should bolster the language’s prestige and ensure greater accessibility for the state’s citizens. In practice, however, its effectiveness will depend on its implementation and the clarity of communication. If executed well, this could be a model for linguistic policies in multilingual societies. If done poorly, it risks becoming yet another bureaucratic edict that is ignored.


Official correspondence between departments has historically been conducted in English, and key policy decisions have been documented in it. The result has been a linguistic disconnect between the government and large sections of the population. While English remains indispensable in global commerce and higher education, making governance more accessible in Marathi in Maharashtra should be the goal every government strives for.


Mere compulsion is not enough. If Marathi is to be the primary language of administration, it must be used in a manner that is clear and simple. A heavy reliance on bureaucratic jargon will only alienate citizens rather than empower them. In the past, the use of highly Sanskritised Marathi in legal and administrative documents has made comprehension difficult even for native speakers. To be truly effective, the government must ensure that official communication is in a language that people can understand, rather than one that is so formal that it feels foreign.


The government has framed this as part of a broader Marathi Language Policy, aiming to establish Marathi as the language of knowledge and employment over the next 25 years. But the challenge remains for a linguistic mandate to translate into meaningful change.


By mandating Marathi in governance, Maharashtra has taken a decisive step in reinforcing its linguistic heritage. The key now is to implement this directive pragmatically, ensuring that the language of administration is one that truly serves the people and not one that turns into yet another bureaucratic obstacle.

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