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.

The Teesta Tangle: Why a River Shapes India’s Strategic Future

For India, securing the Teesta is about weathering the geopolitical tides shaping the future of South Asia.

Few rivers in South Asia have carried as much political significance as the Teesta. Rising from the snowfields of the Himalayas and coursing through the narrow valleys of Sikkim and northern West Bengal before spilling into Bangladesh, the 414-kilometre river sustains millions of farmers, powers turbines, and nourishes fragile ecosystems. Yet, for decades, it has also been a major flashpoint.


The Teesta is the fourth-largest transboundary river shared between India and Bangladesh, after the Ganges, Brahmaputra, and Meghna systems. Its 1.75-million-square-kilometre catchment supports dense populations and agriculture on both sides of the border. But its bounty is unevenly distributed. Most of its 60 billion cubic metres of annual flow rushes downstream between June and September, while the lean months from October to April leave the basin parched. This seasonality has turned the Teesta from a river of life into a source of friction.


A river divided

India and Bangladesh have sparred for years over how to share its waters. In the 1980s, both sides agreed in principle to an equitable arrangement, and by 2011, a draft accord proposed that India would receive 42.5 percent and Bangladesh 37.5 percent of the flow. But the deal faltered when West Bengal’s government objected, arguing that reduced supplies would devastate farmers in the state’s northern districts, who depend heavily on Teesta irrigation. Since then, every bilateral dialogue between Delhi and Dhaka has been shadowed by the unresolved river.


Bangladesh’s grievances have deepened with India’s construction of the Gajoldoba Barrage, which it says diverts excessive water upstream. During the dry season, when the Teesta trickles across the border, Bangladeshi farmers find themselves watching crops wither. India counters that its own needs for irrigation, power generation and flood control are legitimate. The stalemate has produced not just ecological stress but diplomatic fatigue.


Enter China

Into this fraught landscape has waded China. Over the past few years, Beijing has proposed funding and assisting Bangladesh in developing the Teesta River Comprehensive Management and Restoration Project, offering more than $1 billion in investment. On the surface, the plan promises dredging, embankments, and modern irrigation networks. But its geopolitical undertones are unmistakable.


For China, the Teesta project is another link in its long chain of influence across South Asia, stretching from the China-Pakistan Economic Corridor to port developments in Sri Lanka and the Maldives. A presence on the Teesta would place Beijing within strategic sniffing distance of India’s so-called ‘Chicken’s Neck,’ the Siliguri Corridor, a narrow 22-kilometre-wide land bridge connecting mainland India to its northeastern states. Any Chinese-funded infrastructure there would set alarm bells ringing in Delhi.


India’s concern is not just geographic. The Teesta imbroglio has begun to test its diplomatic credibility. Bangladesh, long one of India’s closest partners in the region, has grown increasingly vocal about its unmet expectations. Chinese investment, by contrast, appears fast, generous, and visible. If Beijing helps Dhaka turn the Teesta’s silted channels into gleaming canals, it could win a symbolic victory.


Alarmed by China’s interest, India has offered its own assistance to Bangladesh in reviving the Teesta project, proposing technical and financial collaboration. The challenge lies in reconciling national security priorities with domestic politics. West Bengal’s government, led by Mamata Banerjee, remains fiercely protective of its share of water, viewing any reduction as a betrayal of its farmers. Until Delhi can forge consensus at home, it will struggle to make credible commitments abroad.


High stakes

The strategic stakes are high. Losing the Teesta project to China would erode India’s influence in Dhaka, complicate cooperation on the 54 other transboundary rivers the two countries share, and embolden Beijing’s steady encirclement strategy in the eastern Himalayas and Bay of Bengal. It could also inflame anti-India sentiment in Bangladesh, where public opinion has grown more sensitive to perceived inequities in resource sharing.


The Teesta is not merely a diplomatic irritant; it is a vital artery for India’s own economic and environmental stability. The Teesta Barrage Project — one of eastern India’s largest — supplies irrigation to six northern districts of West Bengal, underpinning agriculture that sustains millions. It also drives hydropower projects such as Teesta-V and Teesta-III, and the barrage itself is designed to generate 67.5 megawatts from canal falls. For a region where agriculture remains the lifeblood of the economy, predictable water flow means predictable livelihoods.


Equally important is the river’s ecological role. The Teesta basin harbours rich biodiversity, from alpine meadows in Sikkim to floodplains in northern Bengal. Poorly managed water diversion threatens these fragile ecosystems, risks salinity intrusion, and can intensify floods and droughts downstream. A coordinated river management approach is essential to preserve both livelihoods and landscapes.


If India wishes to retain its strategic and moral authority in the region, it must act with greater urgency and imagination. First, it should institutionalise transboundary water governance through data sharing, joint monitoring, and basin-wide planning, rather than treating each river as a separate bargaining chip. Second, Delhi must address domestic dissent by engaging with West Bengal to craft compensatory measures to ease fears of water loss.


Third, India and Bangladesh could explore co-financing and co-management of the Teesta project, turning it into a model of regional cooperation rather than confrontation. Shared benefits could demonstrate that water diplomacy need not be a zero-sum game. Such collaboration would also blunt China’s leverage, showing that regional challenges can be met with regional solutions.


The Teesta may seem a modest river compared with the Ganges or Brahmaputra, but its political current runs deep. At stake is the credibility of India’s neighbourhood-first policy and its ability to resist external encirclement.


(The author is a retired Naval Aviation Officer and a defence and geopolitical analyst. Views personal.)

Comments

bottom of page