What Indian hacks cant write.....

The IT department's comment, "'The Board of Control for Cricket in India (BCCI) has become totally commercial and all its Cricket is only incidental to its scheme of things. It is more into prize money for every run or wicket, which is nothing short of a gimmick.' " has barely been noticed in India.

Until, ofcourse, Gideon Haigh commented in his Cricinfo column. As Haigh puts it, "... does cricket make money in order to exist, or does it exist in order to make money? " Cricket, according to him, is simply a vehicle to make money. ".. BCCI invited corporates to participate directly in the commercial exploitation of Indian cricket by owning IPL franchises, essentially issuing them licences to participate in a massively lucrative oligopoly.".

What is more interesting is how little such statements are noticed by our press. Even the eloquent waxing from Harsha Bhogle, Kunal Pradhan, Bobbili Vijay Kumar, can't mask their powers of excluding important debates. So we read Bhogle gently chiding the BCCI about scheduling, Pradhan describing the poetry of Ganguly's batting and Kumar questioning the selectors. Its the bite that's missing.

So, my dear Indian hacks, please drop your "Match ka Mujrim" style reporting and start understanding and initiating the important debates of our time.

The Ballad of Indian Cricket

I will always remember the time India won the T20 Cup in 2007. The same is with my father and the 1983 World Cup. Those are the moments that stay with us. For a few hours we felt elevated and only sport can deliver such lasting moments. Conversely, our jobs and lives seem a little duller on the day India lose a match. As Guha himself puts it,"India ranks 150th in the World Development Report, below Namibia and above Haiti. It is cricketers alone who are asked to redeem these failures." It maybe a very Indian idea to expect a mythical intervention for a little joy.

"Every country has a preoccupation. In China its Mao, in South America its revolution, in India its cricket." Many, Indians and foreigners, have asked why cricket is so important to India. A much liked but cliched answer is that Indians being a lazy people preferred cricket, where the speed is slow and demands made on the players are low. Like all cliches there is some truth to this, but the explanation itself is an intellectually lazy one. To find the right answer you can't do better than read Ramachandra Guha's "A Corner of a Foreign Field". Guha takes up the formidable task of narrating the story of cricket in India. This is simply an inspired approach to political and social history of the game.

"A Corner of a Foreign Field" begins with the origins of cricket as a pastime for the English in India. The game is soon adopted by Indians, Parsis being the first to play the game and establish a club for it. The native sees the game not just as an entertainment but as a form of resistance to the Imperialist. In a glorious irony, the game supposed to strengthen the Empire is turned into a means for social justice and upward mobility.

Guha has that rare ability to "humanize" characters of history we know as cricketers or politicians. Douglas Jardine, Lord Harris, Palwankar Baloo, C.K.Nayudu and many others are characters in Guha's narrative, not just names holding a jumble of titles. His narration skilfully laces humorous trivia with the existing historical and political context. A large part of the book is spent exploring the Quadrangular tournament which was based on clubs with religious affiliations. It was in the Quadrangular that Palwankar Baloo, Vithal, C.K.Nayudu, Wazir Ali and others made their name. The tournament's ultimate abandonment is also seen as inevitable with the rise of an "Indian" nation and identity.

The pedestal of the first great Indian cricketer is not given to Ranjitsingh or C.K.Nayudu, but to a little known dalit spinner, Palwankar Baloo. His story is one of tremendous resistance, perseverance and the belief in cricketing ability. Baloo and his brother Vithal captained the Hindus in the Quadrangular and his two younger brothers, Shivram and Ganpat also represented the same team. It was claimed at one point that "One brother after another raising the Hindu cricket edifice higher and higher, spreading its brilliance in India and abroad."

Baloo and Nayudu are re-imagined to attain mythical status. Baloo's anonymity though is attributed to the fact that he never played for India. Nayudu was a far more popular figure who could rain sixes on the opposition. To a visiting Jardine, Nayudu sent a note, "Wait till you see me." Undoubtedly Nayudu was the first Indian player to make an impression in popular culture. He captained India on tours to England and was hailed as a legend.

The modern game though is discussed only in parts. Guha portrays the modern Indian fan as the "overworked, overpaid, half-drunk, hyper-national yuppie". But the same Indian fan stands in a ticket queue from the night before, he is not allowed to carry a banner or a poster, not even a bottle of water to the stadium (At Eden Gardens spectators were asked to drink water from a tap deemed unfit for consumption by the local municipality). After going through all this trouble, his heart is broken by players who throw matches for money. I see it as the venting of anger not just at the players, but at a system that has failed to deliver simple dignity.

All things considered though this is a wonderful read. Here's some trivia to entice you to read this book. Ranjitsingh once told a young boy "Balla seedha rakho, Jore se maro, Aur ghabrao mat" (Keep your bat straight, Hit Hard and don't funk). That young boy grew up to be C.K.Nayudu.

IPL in Tawang

After finishing my thesis work at IIT Kanpur, I ran off to Tawang all by myself. Why Tawang, most people would ask and why alone? Tawang in Arunachal Pradesh, is the eastern most district of India. It shares a border with China and is a disputed territory (or so the Chinese
claim). As I reached Tawang, I was filled with a Seven years in Tibet-esque excitement. A land of Buddhist monasteries, monks, serene surroundings and simple living. The aim was to go with the least amount of planning. Don’t book hotel rooms, don’t read too much about the place, no solid travel plans, just go and discover.

Tawang is also a garrison town. A perceived threat from China results in huge military deployment from the Indian side. One needs the military police permission to visit the famed lakes and mountain tops. As I finished a day’s loitering around, I was stopped by an army guard. “Where are you from….”, he asks. “Sir, from Kanpur, but I’m originally from Vijayawada, Andhra Pradesh”. The guard is too happy with my answer. He hailed from the same state. In a distant land, there is something wonderful about finding someone who speaks your own language. He winks and asks me to drop by for drinks and dinner.

Since sleeping alone in my room was not very exciting, I reach the army mess quite early. The guard who invited me hands me a drink and we walk to a large dark room to watch the IPL. The match was Rajasthan Royals vs Kolkata Knight Riders. The initial support was clearly with Shah Rukh’s Riders. But Ganguly’s inability to capitalize on a start did not go down well with some of his supporters. 150, they said, was clearly not enough. The Royals got off to a good start. Graeme Smith’s dismissal to a stunning catch was met with roaring applause. As Pathan walked in I was wolfing down yummy chicken fry and parathas. It wasn’t really clear what hit the crowd after that. Pathan’s demolition of the Ganguly was met with stoic silence. Towards the end though someone conceded ,”Pathan ka tho jawaab hi nahin” (There’s no one like Pathan).

A few years ago electricity would make fleeting appearances in the town of Tawang. Today they enjoy IPL through satellite dish networks and participate in endless arguments over which team is better. I went searching for solitude, but ended up meeting some wonderful people in a beautiful land and understood why cricket is so important for this country.