India & the orgy of nationalism

First published in The Nightwatchman in 2013

I have never cared less about Kant’s categorical imperative than I did on March 13, 1996.

At about 2pm on a Wednesday, in the examination centre in Mumbai for the Higher School Certificate – a public examination equivalent to the A Level in England – I was meant to be focusing on the Philosophy paper in front of me. But the only thing on my mind as I studied the questions was, “I wonder who won the toss.”

News filtered in – through an errand boy roaming the hallways – that India had put Sri Lanka in to bat, that Jayasuriya and Kaluwitharana were out, that the score was 1 for 2… It was all happening, as Tony Greig was probably saying that very moment on commentary. “This is terrible,” I thought. “Now, I can’t concentrate at all.”

The rest of my time in the examination hall is a daze. But I do remember it as the only instance in about 20 years of writing tests that I left early as I bundled into a waiting taxi.

The streets were deserted except for crowds gathered outside electronics’ stores – noses pressed up against, and heads poking through, the large glass windows – and crouched around paan beedi (betel leaf and tobacco) shops to listen for updates on the transistor.

Twenty-five years after Independence, a nation disillusioned with the imposition of the Emergency (1975-77), the license raj, unemployment and labour conflicts, was searching for new heroes and hope. Bachchan’s character, always known as Vijay (victory) in this anti-establishment brand of cinema, became the icon of protest against India’s ills.

Since India’s 1983 World Cup victory and post-liberalisation, cricketers more than Bollywood stars have taken over as representatives of the nation’s global aspirations, and none more than Sachin Tendulkar. Through the 90s, Tendulkar alone drove television rating points up and down, perhaps like no other cricketer in India and the world, as he typified this phenomenon of India’s “happy state of mind” based on how many runs he scored – or did not.

This emotional dependence on Tendulkar changed significantly in the last 10 years as India began performing better overseas and enjoyed its most successful decade in cricketing history. And it explains why cricketers, who hail from small-town India like Mahendra Singh Dhoni and Ravindra Jadeja as well as posh urban pockets like Virat Kohli, market everything from Cola to cement, and even English Premier League football.

As for Test cricket’s greatest rivalry, forgive my fellow Indians if they reach for the remote.