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.

Steel and Signal

The subtext of Modi’s Bengaluru metro ride is to wrest narrative control from a Congress government equally determined to claim credit for the city’s long-delayed progress.

Karnataka
Karnataka

The optics were carefully engineered when Prime Minister Narendra Modi boarded the gleaming Yellow Line of Bengaluru’s metro flanked by Karnataka’s Congress chief minister Siddaramaiah and his wily deputy D.K. Shivakumar. The Prime Minister inaugurated a 19 km stretch from RV Road to Bommasandra, linking the city’s sprawling IT hub in Electronic City with the residential and industrial south. The line, part of Phase 2 of the metro, has cost Rs. 7,160 crore while adding 16 stations to what is now India’s second-largest metro network after Delhi’s.


But beneath the stainless-steel glamour, the ceremony was a classic exercise in political calibration. Karnataka, the BJP’s only foothold in southern India until it lost the state in the 2023 assembly election, remains a prize worth contesting. The Congress government has turned Bengaluru’s infrastructure woes into a cudgel against the BJP. Modi’s presence in the city, therefore, was less about cutting ribbons than cutting into Congress’s narrative.


The Yellow Line’s opening was a symbol of the BJP’s attempt to reassert relevance in a state. Bengaluru voters are aspirational but also weary of stalled infrastructure and choking congestion. If Modi can claim credit for delivering a marquee urban project despite its three-year delay caused by pandemic disruptions and supply-chain troubles after Indo-China tensions, the BJP hopes to chip away at Congress’s advantage.


That advantage is personified in Siddaramaiah and Shivakumar, a political double act as different in temperament as they are united in ambition. Siddaramaiah, the veteran socialist-turned-Congressman, delights in skewering Modi’s policies, most recently over Washington’s 50 percent tariff on Indian goods. Shivakumar, a master of ground-level mobilisation, has long been eyeing the chief minister’s post for himself while cultivating his image as Bengaluru’s chief fixer.


And yet, for a few hours on Sunday, hostilities were set aside. Cameras captured the trio smiling, chatting, and waving to crowds. The optics suited all parties: Modi as the statesman welcomed even by his fiercest critics; Siddaramaiah and Shivakumar as gracious hosts willing to share a platform in the name of Karnataka’s progress. The bonhomie signalled a grudging recognition on both sides that Bengaluru’s infrastructure cannot be weaponised without also being delivered.


For Congress, the challenge is to prevent Modi from owning the metro’s success. The project was initiated under previous governments and shepherded through multiple political regimes. Yet, as Indian voters have often shown, the leader who cuts the ribbon often reaps the political benefit, regardless of who laid the foundation. Modi’s metro ride, complete with selfies with students, was choreographed to reinforce his image as a man in motion.


The BJP’s Karnataka unit sees urban infrastructure as one of the few levers it can pull to regain ground. Rural discontent, caste politics and the Congress’s populist guarantees have eroded its reach elsewhere. But Bengaluru’s electorate is more susceptible to appeals about speed, connectivity, and modernisation - areas where the BJP believes it can outshine Congress.


History suggests the strategy is not far-fetched. The launch of the metro’s Purple Line between Baiyappanahalli and M.G. Road in 2011 was championed by the then BJP government under B.S. Yediyurappa, which touted it as proof of its pro-development credentials. A few years later, Congress’s Siddaramaiah sought to blunt BJP’s urban edge by fast-tracking the east–west extension and ensuring high-profile inaugurations. Each ribbon-cutting has doubled as a campaign event, with both parties eager to turn station openings into symbols of efficiency. In a state where civic infrastructure projects often crawl, the party seen as delivering momentum stands to benefit disproportionately.


Yet the political rails are not entirely smooth. The Yellow Line is a reminder of Karnataka’s chronic project delays: approved in 2014, construction began in 2017 and has only now been completed. The Congress government will be quick to blame any shortcomings on the Centre; the BJP will counter that the delays were the result of pandemic disruptions and foreign-sourced equipment stuck in customs limbo. The larger contest ultimately is over narrative ownership.

Comments


bottom of page