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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.

Tongue-Tied in Maharashtra

The ongoing row over Hindi in schools exposes deeper political manoeuvres ahead of Mumbai’s civic election.

A recent government resolution in Maharashtra has triggered sharp reactions across the political and cultural spectrum. According to the new rule, Hindi will be the default third language in all non-Hindi medium schools unless at least 20 students opt for an alternative. This move has sparked outrage among Marathi cultural groups and opposition parties, who see it as a stealthy attempt to promote Hindi at the expense of Marathi.


But is this really just about educational policy? Or is there something more political brewing, particularly with the all-important Brihanmumbai Municipal Corporation (BMC) elections around the corner?


To grasp the issue, it helps to understand the nature of the controversy. Previously, students in Maharashtra had the freedom to pick any language as their third option - Marathi, Urdu, Sanskrit, or even regional languages like Kannada or Telugu, depending on the local context. The new rule changes that. Now, unless 20 or more students explicitly choose another language, Hindi will be assigned by default.


Critics argue that the 20-student threshold effectively forces Hindi on schools with more diverse linguistic populations, particularly in cities like Mumbai and Pune. It risks marginalising languages with smaller speaker bases and is seen as undermining Marathi’s cultural role in the state.


Marathi language advocates have been quick to respond. The Sakal Marathi Shikshak Parishad has termed the move a “backdoor imposition” of Hindi. They argue it erodes Marathi’s rightful place in Maharashtra’s classrooms and may set a dangerous precedent for the state’s linguistic identity.


On the surface, this may appear to be a minor adjustment in school administration. But in Maharashtra, language and identity are closely tied to politics. Policy changes like these are rarely devoid of electoral implications.


Many in Mumbai’s political circles are now asking whether this rule is part of the Bharatiya Janata Party’s (BJP) broader strategy ahead of the crucial BMC polls. The BMC, which is India’s wealthiest civic body, has traditionally been the domain of the Shiv Sena, now split into rival factions led by Uddhav Thackeray and Eknath Shinde. The BJP, despite its national strength, has struggled to break the Shiv Sena’s Marathi-speaking base in the city.


Enter Raj Thackeray. The Maharashtra Navnirman Sena (MNS) chief, once a fiery advocate of Marathi pride and nativist politics, had faded from relevance in recent years. But his name is suddenly back in the news.


Last week, Maharashtra Deputy Chief Minister Devendra Fadnavis held an unscheduled meeting with Raj Thackeray at a plush Mumbai hotel. While it was officially downplayed, political observers suspect a more strategic purpose. The timing, coinciding with the Hindi language rule, has raised eyebrows.


Is the BJP attempting to revive Raj Thackeray’s political fortunes? More importantly, is it trying to engineer a Thackeray-Shinde rapprochement to split the Marathi vote and undercut Uddhav’s support in the BMC polls?


There is speculation that the BJP may be using Raj as a proxy to stir up the emotive issue of Marathi identity. If Raj takes a strong stand against the language rule, he could re-establish himself as the ‘protector of Marathi asmita (pride),’ appealing to younger, culturally attuned voters. For the BJP, this would be a win-win: damaging Uddhav’s base without direct confrontation.


The opposition has wasted no time in hitting back. Leaders from the Congress, Shiv Sena (UBT), and Sharad Pawar’s NCP faction have denounced the resolution as part of the BJP’s wider Hindutva agenda. They argue this is not about pedagogy but about shaping cultural narratives and vote banks.


Aaditya Thackeray, former minister and Uddhav’s son, voiced his scepticism on X (formerly Twitter): “Why this sudden love for Hindi in Maharashtra’s schools? Why now? And who does this benefit?”


In Maharashtra, language is more than a means of communication—it is a marker of belonging. Attempts to sideline Marathi, even subtly, tend to provoke fierce backlash. The BMC election is not just a civic contest; it is a prestige battle. With Uddhav Thackeray still commanding sympathy after the 2022 political coup, the BJP needs a disruptive strategy. Raj Thackeray could be that disruption.


Whether this plan works remains uncertain. But what is clear is that this isn’t just about a third language in the curriculum. It is about politics, cultural identity and the battle for Mumbai’s soul.


The sudden rollout of the Hindi rule, secretive meetings with estranged leaders, and the simmering discontent within the BJP’s own base all suggest a more elaborate script at play. There are murmurs within the BJP’s Maharashtra unit that this move has alienated long-time party workers. These loyalists feel sidelined in the BJP’s current outreach to outsiders like Raj Thackeray or even Sudhakar Badgujar, whose recent entry into the party met with little enthusiasm.


Many RSS and core BJP functionaries believe the leadership is trying to please too many factions simultaneously, risking the party’s ideological coherence. Some quietly admit that, at this rate, only the BJP and Congress will be left with identifiable core voters, while the rest are busy rebranding themselves opportunistically.


Hope the state BJP leadership is paying attention. As the old Marathi saying goes, “Kaalachikaathiaawaznahi karat” (the stick of time makes no sound).


(The writer is a political observer.)

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