Cricketing Blues....

Every fifth human being is an Indian. But if you live in the British Isles, especially in and around Greater London, you know this is pure baloney. Every second person on the streets of this great Metropolis is from the subcontinent, or it seems. And on that bright sunny June afternoon, every single one of them, or rather us, descended on the Home of Cricket. “Two of us and two million of you”, exclaimed the “gora” standing behind me in the queue for a Pimm’s refill. And it sure felt like that. Venue: Lords, Occasion: India-England 20-20 game. But hold on. Where were the two million when India’s national anthem was being played. A whisper here, a murmur there, a few like yours truly mouthing the words, self conscious, careful not to emit any sound. And then the handful of “goras” reverberated the stadium with God Save the Queen. 1-0 England, and it pretty much stayed that way through the evening.

I have often wondered how a few Goras ruled over millions of us. And imagine they were playing away from home in alien conditions. Not only did they rule us, they battered our ego so badly it will take generations to overcome the deep rooted stigma, the chronic inferiority nesting in our subconscious. And all this façade of a super power in making has done nothing to (yess my GRE/GMAT friends, I have been dying to use this word) ameliorate this. A few hours spent at The Lords, and I think I have part of the answer.

One of the reasons espoused by historians, and here the JNU Pinkos and the ultra-right we-don’t-believe-history-in-English-whether-by-English-or-not see eye to eye, for the failure of the revolt of 1857 is that Indians didn’t fight British soldiers. Indians fought Indians. And ‘revolt’ is right, as by no stretch of imagination was it a fight for independence. There were enough and more reasons for that chingari to become sholey. Economics (soldiers had grievances regarding their cost to company and the calculation of the same), Religion (they did have a beef and a lard issue), Racism(obviously), you name it, all the ingredients of a pot boiler. And what did we get. RGV ki Aag. Instead of an uprising it became such a damp squib that even the otherwise bankable Amir Khan couldn’t make anything out of it. And why, because the Sikhs and the Madrasis (now my friends south of Vindhyas, don’t get offended as I am using the term to refer to the Madras Sappers) had a bone with the Purbias and the Bengalis, who they thought helped the Brits beat them in the Punjab and down south. So in 1857 the Sikhs and the Madrasis fought the Bhaiyyas and the Bongs in what is touted by many as a glorious outcry for Indian Independence.

And 150 years later the same drama unfolds between Messrs Dalmia, Pawar, Yadav, Muthaia and Bindra. The epic of BCCI. And the winner is?