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Correspondent

23 August 2024 at 4:29:04 pm

Festive Surge

India’s bazaars have glittered this Diwali with the unmistakable glow of consumer confidence. The country’s festive sales crossed a staggering Rs. 6 lakh crore with goods alone accounting for Rs. 5.4 lakh crore and services contributing Rs. 65,000 crore. More remarkable still, the bulk of this spending flowed through India’s traditional markets rather than e-commerce platforms. After years of economic caution and digital dominance, Indians are once again shopping in person and buying local....

Festive Surge

India’s bazaars have glittered this Diwali with the unmistakable glow of consumer confidence. The country’s festive sales crossed a staggering Rs. 6 lakh crore with goods alone accounting for Rs. 5.4 lakh crore and services contributing Rs. 65,000 crore. More remarkable still, the bulk of this spending flowed through India’s traditional markets rather than e-commerce platforms. After years of economic caution and digital dominance, Indians are once again shopping in person and buying local. This reversal owes much to policy. The recent rationalisation of the Goods and Services Tax (GST) which trimmed rates across categories from garments to home furnishings, has given consumption a timely push. Finance Minister Nirmala Sitharaman’s September rate cuts, combined with income tax relief and easing interest rates, have strengthened household budgets just as inflation softened. The middle class, long squeezed between rising costs and stagnant wages, has found reason to spend again. Retailers report that shoppers filled their bags with everything from lab-grown diamonds and casual wear to consumer durables and décor, blurring the line between necessity and indulgence. The effect has been broad-based. According to Crisil Ratings, 40 organised apparel retailers, who together generate roughly a third of the sector’s revenue, could see growth of 13–14 percent this financial year, aided by a 200-basis-point bump from GST cuts alone. Small traders too have flourished. The Confederation of All India Traders (CAIT) estimates that 85 percent of total festive trade came from non-corporate and traditional markets, a robust comeback for brick-and-mortar retail that had been under siege from online rivals. This surge signals a subtle but significant cultural shift. The “Vocal for Local” and “Swadeshi Diwali” campaigns struck a patriotic chord, with consumers reportedly preferring Indian-made products to imported ones. Demand for Chinese goods fell sharply, while sales of Indian-manufactured products rose by a quarter over last year. For the first time in years, “buying Indian” has become both an act of economic participation and of national pride. The sectoral spread of this boom underlines its breadth. Groceries and fast-moving consumer goods accounted for 12 percent of the total, gold and jewellery 10 percent, and electronics 8 percent. Even traditionally modest categories like home furnishings, décor and confectionery recorded double-digit growth. In the smaller towns that anchor India’s consumption story, traders say stable prices and improved affordability kept registers ringing late into the festive weekend. Yet, much of this buoyancy rests on a fragile equilibrium. Inflation remains contained, and interest rates have been eased, but both could tighten again. Sustaining this spurt will require continued fiscal prudence and regulatory clarity, especially as digital commerce continues to expand its reach. Yet for now, the signs are auspicious. After years of subdued demand and inflationary unease, India’s shoppers appear to have rediscovered their appetite for consumption and their faith in domestic enterprise. The result is not only a record-breaking Diwali, but a reaffirmation of the local marketplace as the heartbeat of India’s economy.

The Umpire Who Stood Tall in Cricket’s Golden Age

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Harold Dennis “Dickie” Bird, the unmistakable figure in white who brought a touch of Barnsley banter to the world’s cricket grounds, has died at the age of 92. He passed away peacefully on September 22, 2025, at his home in the Yorkshire town where he was born, surrounded by family and echoes of the cheers that followed him for decades. Bird’s death marks the end of an era for English cricket, one defined not just by the finger raised in judgment but by the infectious joy he infused into the game. As tributes poured in from Lord’s to Lahore, Geoffrey Boycott, his lifelong Yorkshire comrade, summed it up: “Dickie didn’t just umpire; he entertained. We’ll miss him, even if he did call me out once or twice.”


Born on April 19, 1933, in a modest terraced house on Church Lane in Barnsley, West Riding of Yorkshire, Bird grew up in the shadow of the coal pits that powered the industrial north. The eldest of three children to James Harold Bird, a coal miner, and Ethel (née Smith), a homemaker, young Harold—soon nicknamed “Dickie” by schoolmates for his cheeky grin—knew hardship early. The family relocated to the New Lodge estate amid slum clearances when he was two, a move that instilled in him the grit of working-class resilience. Failing his 11-plus exam in 1944, he attended Raley Secondary Modern School, leaving at 15 to toil briefly in the mines. “It weren’t for me,” he later recalled with a chuckle. “Too dark down there—no room for a cricket bat.” Instead, sport became his escape. A promising footballer, Bird’s knee injury dashed dreams of professional soccer, redirecting his passion to cricket, the village green’s gentlemanly pursuit.


Bird’s playing days flickered brightly but briefly. Signing with Yorkshire in 1956, he navigated the cutthroat opening slot amid nerves and fierce competition from the likes of Ken Taylor. His maiden County Championship century—a gritty 181 not out against Glamorgan in 1959—earned plaudits, but inconsistency and that nagging knee saw him loaned to Leicestershire in 1960. There, he blossomed momentarily, amassing over 1,000 runs in his debut season, including a ton against the touring South Africans. Yet, by 1964, after 93 first-class matches averaging a modest 20.71—with just two centuries and 14 fifties—the injuries won. Retiring at 31, Bird turned coach, guiding talents at Paignton and Plymouth College, and even venturing to Johannesburg. Club cricket with future stars like Michael Parkinson and Boycott forged bonds that outlasted his batting average. “I never scored a run for England,” he quipped in later years, “but I made up for it standing at the other end.”


Umpiring, however, was where Bird truly flourished, transforming from journeyman batsman to global icon over 28 years. Qualifying for county games in 1970, he debuted in Tests three years later at Headingley—his spiritual home—standing with Charlie Elliott for England versus New Zealand. An innings victory for the hosts set the tone for a career that would see him officiate 66 Tests (a world record until 2009), 69 ODIs, seven Women’s ODIs, and three Cricket World Cup finals. His tally included a then-record 54 Tests in England and 15 at Lord’s, the cathedral of cricket.


The best moments? They read like a highlight reel of cricket’s eccentric soul. In 1975, Bird stood in the inaugural World Cup final at Lord’s, where West Indies clinched a 17-run thriller over Australia amid a joyous pitch invasion that nearly swept him off his feet. “Fans everywhere—chasing Viv Richards like he was the last bus home,” he laughed in his autobiography. Eight years later, in 1983, he refereed India’s seismic upset of the same foes at the same venue, kapil Dev’s men etching history as Bird’s finger stayed resolutely neutral in a match that redefined underdogs. His third final came in 1992 at Melbourne, Pakistan’s triumph under Imran Khan unfolding under his watchful eye amid the inaugural use of colored clothing and white balls. Then there was the 1980 Centenary Test at Lord’s, a nostalgic clash between England and Australia exactly 100 years on from the first. Bird and partner David Constant braved a waterlogged outfield—despite blue skies—forcing a three-day washout that sparked MCC member mutiny. Yet, in 1988 at Headingley, a biblical flood turned the outfield into a lake; Bird’s calm call to halt play amid rising waters became folklore, players rowing imaginary boats in jest.


(The writer is a senior journalist based in Mumbai. Views personal.)

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