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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.

Raj’s Solo Gambit

Updated: Oct 22, 2024

Raj Thackeray, the maverick leader of the Maharashtra Navnirman Sena (MNS), has long been the political enfant terrible of Maharashtra. In a recent address to his party workers in Goregaon, he declared the MNS’s intent to contest the upcoming state elections independently, distancing himself from both the ruling Mahayuti and the opposition Maharashtra Vikas Aghadi (MVA). Thackeray’s rhetoric was fiery as ever, positioning himself as the outsider in the state’s fluid political landscape.


His assertion that the MNS will be part of the next government is a bold claim for a leader whose party has been in decline since its heyday in 2012. In his address, Thackeray railed against political flip-flopping, lambasting those who switched sides for power and warning that Maharashtra should never bow before the dictates of Delhi—a thinly veiled critique of the central government’s influence over the Eknath Shinde-led Mahayuti coalition.


Thackeray’s criticism of industrial giant Adani, accusing it of land grabs in Maharashtra, may be an attempt to tap into a perceived well of populist anger against crony capitalism. But this anti-corporate stance sits uneasily with his recent dalliance with the BJP, a party that has hardly shied away from close ties with big business.


His dismissal of the Maratha reservation as unattainable and critique of the ‘Ladki Bahin’ welfare scheme—deemed fiscally unsustainable—reflect his willingness to tackle contentious issues, even at the risk of alienating a key voter bloc.


Yet, despite this strident anti-establishment tone, Thackeray’s actions have been far more conciliatory towards the ruling BJP and CM Shinde in the last couple of years. Earlier this year, he campaigned vigorously for the ruling Mahayuti’s candidates in the Lok Sabha elections after declaring his unconditional support for PM Modi despite receiving no electoral seat himself. His familiar brand of oratory, marked by scathing attacks on his cousin and rival, Uddhav Thackeray and savage lampooning of political rivals, has not translated into any political capital.


The MNS, founded in 2006 to champion the cause of the ‘Marathi manoos’, has seen its fortunes dwindle over the years. In 2014, it suffered twin electoral debacles and subsequent local and national elections only cemented its political irrelevance. Even its fiery campaign against north Indians, which once garnered both support and notoriety, has become a footnote. The question remains what does Raj Thackeray want? In the 2019 Lok Sabha election, he had campaigned for Congress-NCP. This time, his meeting with Union Home Minister Amit Shah earlier this year led us to think the MNS would finally be an integral part of the Mahayuti. This, however, has not come to pass, and Thackeray’s solo gambit for the state elections suggests either a calculated risk or a desperate last stand. If the MNS falters once more in this Assembly election, Thackeray risks being consigned to the margins of Maharashtra’s political history.

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