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By:

Waleed Hussain

4 March 2025 at 8:04:30 pm

Tilak Varma: The Calm in the Chaos

There are moments in T20 cricket when a match appears to slip beyond reach. For India, one of the most encouraging developments in recent years has been the emergence of a young left-hander who seems increasingly comfortable in precisely these circumstances. His name is Tilak Varma. Varma offered another compelling demonstration of his value, striking an unbeaten 51 off 25 balls against New Zealand in Christchurch. India had slumped to 112 for six while chasing 181, with Mitchell Santner...

Tilak Varma: The Calm in the Chaos

There are moments in T20 cricket when a match appears to slip beyond reach. For India, one of the most encouraging developments in recent years has been the emergence of a young left-hander who seems increasingly comfortable in precisely these circumstances. His name is Tilak Varma. Varma offered another compelling demonstration of his value, striking an unbeaten 51 off 25 balls against New Zealand in Christchurch. India had slumped to 112 for six while chasing 181, with Mitchell Santner threatening to derail the innings. Varma responded with a match-turning partnership alongside Nitish Kumar Reddy, adding 69 runs from just 30 balls to steer India to a four-wicket victory. His late assault transformed a precarious chase into another memorable Indian win. Varma’s greatest contribution to the Indian T20 side may lie in his ability to bring order to chaos. India have never lacked explosive batters. The challenge, however, is ensuring that aggression does not become recklessness and that a promising start does not collapse under pressure. Varma offers a different kind of assurance. He can attack without losing sight of the situation, rebuild after early wickets and accelerate when the game demands it. His left-handed presence also gives India a valuable tactical dimension, disrupting bowling plans and forcing captains to reconsider their match-ups. The Christchurch innings illustrated these qualities perfectly. Such performances are what distinguish a talented batter from a genuine match-winner. The foundations of Varma’s reputation were laid in South Africa in November 2024. Given the opportunity to bat at No. 3, he responded with an unbeaten 107 off 56 balls at Centurion, helping India post 219 for six and secure a crucial victory. He followed that performance with another century, scoring 120 in the next match, establishing himself as a batter capable of dominating quality international bowling. They demonstrated that Varma could assume responsibility at a pivotal position rather than remain confined to the role of a supporting batter. His willingness to take ownership of the No. 3 position was particularly significant for a team continually searching for the right balance between stability and aggression. In the 2025 Asia Cup final against Pakistan, Varma’s unbeaten 69 guided India through a tense chase after an uncertain start. Modern T20 cricket increasingly demands players who can fulfil multiple roles within a single innings. Varma has demonstrated the ingredients required for that responsibility. His left-handed batting adds variety to India’s predominantly right-handed combinations, while his ability to play spin and pace makes him a flexible option across different conditions. The long-term implications are substantial. India need not depend exclusively on one or two established superstars to rescue difficult matches. A reliable Varma in the middle order could give the team greater freedom to attack early, knowing that someone capable of rebuilding remains available when wickets fall. There is, of course, a distinction between potential and sustained greatness. International cricket will test Varma against opponents who study his strengths, exploit his weaknesses and devise plans specifically to contain him. Consistency, fitness, decision-making under pressure and the ability to recover from prolonged lean patches will determine whether he becomes a dependable international fixture or one of India’s defining T20 batters. The challenge is to nurture his development without burdening him with unrealistic expectations. Every promising young cricketer does not need to be labelled the next superstar. Varma deserves the opportunity to develop his own identity. There is something particularly inspiring about Varma’s journey. His rise from Hyderabad, supported during his formative years by a coach who helped him overcome financial constraints, reflects the role that opportunity, sacrifice and perseverance can play in sporting success. But inspiration alone does not win international matches. Performance does. And Varma is increasingly providing the evidence to support the belief surrounding him. For Indian cricket, Tilak Varma represents something more enduring than a succession of memorable innings: the possibility of a middle order built around intelligent aggression and emotional resilience. The next chapter of his career will determine just how far that promise carries him. Yet the signs are encouraging. India may have discovered a batter who can do more than entertain, more than accumulate runs and more than rescue the occasional match. They may have found a cricketer capable of becoming one of the defining pillars of their T20 future. (The writer is a senior journalist based in Mumbai. Views personal.)

What the World Can Learn from India’s 1971 War

Apr 1
5 min read

Our country’s conduct in the 1971 War with Pakistan offers several lessons at a time when the principles of peaceful coexistence and a rules-based global order are in freefall.

History shows that any war in the Middle East has a way of expanding beyond its declared aims. The ongoing confrontation involving the U.S.-Israel and Iran, now stretching into its second month, has already outgrown its immediate theatre, unsettling energy markets, rattling allies and inviting a familiar contest of narratives. Washington and Jerusalem have framed their case in moral and strategic terms that an oppressive regime in Tehran must be checked, its nuclear ambitions curtailed and its people, in time, empowered. Iran, unsurprisingly, casts the conflict as naked aggression, a violation of sovereignty dressed up as ‘liberation.’


Between these competing claims lies a question as old as statecraft itself: when, if ever, does intervention become justifiable? And more pointedly, who decides? The answers are rarely neat. Iran’s post-1979 history is replete with episodes of domestic unrest over elections, economic malaise, and social restrictions, particularly those affecting women. Protests have often been met with repression. Yet the existence of internal dissent, however grave, does not furnish an uncomplicated mandate for external military action. If it did, the modern world would be in a state of near-permanent war.


Responsible Conduct

This is where historical analogy, used carefully, can illuminate rather than obscure. India’s intervention in the subcontinent in 1971, culminating in the birth of Bangladesh, offers one such lens. It is frequently invoked in Indian discourse, sometimes too readily, but its particulars are instructive. The crisis in what was then East Pakistan was not merely a matter of internal dissent. It had spiralled into a humanitarian catastrophe, sending millions of refugees across the border into India, straining its economy and destabilising its eastern flank. The Pakistani military’s crackdown on Bengali civilians, widely documented at the time, lent urgency to India’s case.


New Delhi’s response was neither impulsive nor cloaked in abstraction. It combined diplomatic outreach, humanitarian concern and, ultimately, military action. Crucially, India’s support for the Mukti Bahini (local Bangladeshi resistance fighters) was embedded in a broader objective which was to end a crisis that had direct consequences for its own stability. The war that followed was short, decisive and, by the standards of interstate conflict, unusually clear in its outcome. Within weeks, Pakistani forces surrendered, and a new state emerged.


It is tempting, particularly for those sympathetic to Western aims in Iran, to draw a straight line between 1971 and the present. Are not the stated objectives similar - liberation from oppression, support for local agency, the promise of a better political order? Yet such parallels, while superficially appealing, elide critical differences. India’s intervention was preceded by months of restraint and diplomatic effort. It was anchored in an immediate and overwhelming refugee crisis. And it was bounded by a clear end-state: the cessation of violence and the establishment of a sovereign Bangladesh, not the indefinite remaking of a distant polity.


Equally important was what India did not do. It did not seek to occupy territory beyond the conflict’s objectives, nor did it attempt to extract sweeping political concessions from a defeated Pakistan. The release of tens of thousands of prisoners of war, without maximalist bargaining, has often been criticised in hindsight as naïve. But it also underscored a broader point: that the war’s purpose was not expansionist, even if it yielded significant strategic dividends, including the partition of a hostile neighbour.


Moral Clarity

Such clarity of purpose is conspicuously absent in many contemporary interventions. From Iraq to Afghanistan, and now in the shadow of a possible escalation with Iran, the line between stated aims and underlying motives has often blurred. Energy security, regime change, regional dominance - these are seldom absent from the calculus, even when cloaked in the language of democracy and human rights. The result is a pattern of selective idealism: indignation in one theatre, indulgence in another; a hard line on proliferation here, a studied silence there.


India, to its credit, has largely avoided this trap in its external posture, even if not always to universal approval. Its current stance on the Iran conflict - urging de-escalation while refraining from outright condemnation or mediation - has drawn criticism at home, particularly from opposition parties. Yet this position is consistent with a long-standing principle: that bilateral conflicts are best resolved by the parties involved, without unsolicited third-party intervention. It is a principle India has guarded jealously in its own disputes, and it would be incongruous to abandon it now for rhetorical satisfaction.


Domestic critics, especially those invoking the moral clarity of 1971, would do well to acknowledge these nuances. The intervention under Indira Gandhi is rightly remembered as decisive and, in many respects, just. But it was also exceptional in that it was a convergence of humanitarian urgency, strategic necessity and political will. To treat it as a universal template for intervention risks oversimplifying both the past and the present.


Marked Restraint

For the wider world, the lessons are more sobering. The first is restraint. India’s record, notwithstanding periodic tensions, has been marked by a reluctance to initiate conflict. This has not insulated it from criticism, but it has lent credibility to its actions when it has chosen to act. The second is consistency. A foreign policy that aligns rhetoric with action and eschews the temptation to apply principles selectively, commands a different kind of authority, one that is in short supply in today’s fractured order.


The third, and perhaps most elusive, is clarity of purpose. The 1971 war had a defined objective and, just as importantly, a defined end. It did not metastasise into an open-ended project of nation-building or ideological transformation. Contrast this with the protracted conflicts of the 21st century - from war in Afghanistan to the ongoing Russia–Ukraine War - where shifting goals and uncertain exits have imposed staggering costs without commensurate gains.


As the Middle East edges deeper into uncertainty, such distinctions matter. Calls for regime change, however justified they may appear, carry consequences that extend far beyond their immediate targets. They risk entrenching the very instability they seek to resolve, particularly when unaccompanied by a credible plan for what follows.


The principle of sovereignty, much invoked and often breached, remains a cornerstone of the international system. Yet it is not absolute. The challenge lies in navigating the narrow space between non-interference and necessary action - a task that demands not just power, but prudence. India’s experience in 1971 does not offer a ready-made blueprint. But it does provide a reminder that interventions, to be legitimate and effective, must be grounded in necessity, executed with restraint, and concluded with clarity.


In an era of convenient moralities and elastic principles, that is lesson enough.


(The writer works in the Information Technology sector. Views personal.)

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