I am INDIA.
Today, I am not the INDIA which is on the brink of economic supremacy as the second fastest growing nation.
Neither am I the INDIA who takes pride in its diversity; unity in which is hidden, have I believed.
Nor am I the INDIA who has a million billionaires (not necessarily all in the Forbes list) at the cost of a billion not-even millionaires.
Today, I am the INDIA which loves Cricket; Sorry – which is obsessed with Cricket; Pardon me again – which reveres Cricket.
Since times old, I have had a tradition of my own, a culture of my own, an Identity of my own.
Others and my own people have attempted to molest me in the past, they are attempting to rape me in the present and they will attempt to murder me in future.
But, I have produced better daughters and sons; of the pedigree of Chhatrapati Shivaji Maharaj, Rani of Jhansi, Mahatma Gandhi, Maharana Pratap, Swatantryaveer Savarkar, King Ashoka, Bhagat Singh and a lot more; who have defied these attempts by slaying and getting slain on battlefields like Panipat, Kurukshetra, Haldighati, Srirangapatnam, Kargil and a lot more.
And my sons and daughters have not just fought against others for me, but fought my own sons and daughters who went the wrong way; from the times of the Ramayana and the Mahabharata; for the greater good of humanity.
So today, the Cricket crazy INDIA that I am, reminisces those days when Cricket was not mine, it belonged to someone else, someone who ruled me and molested me for many years.
But, I liked Cricket for its purity of expression, I took up Cricket because of the competitive brilliance it offered, I got hooked to it because no other sport could give the feeling of a team event comprising of individuals as Cricket could, I wanted to play Cricket to prove to the molesters that I could be better at something that belonged to them and gradually but surely, make it mine.
It took time. It always does. In 1952, soon after I became a Republic, I won my first test match, and who was at the receiving end, of course my most recent tormentor - England. One tight slap in the face delivered.
A little later, I won my first Test series, and who bore the brunt this time, my own part, which had grown so bad that I had to amputate it off me – Pakistan. One severe kick in the abdomen delivered.
Two heavy revenges later, started my quest to make Cricket my own game, a quest which culminated on June the 25th, 1983. This was the day when I decimated the mighty and feared West Indies to win the World Cup. This was the day when I made Cricket “My Game”. The day I showed the world, I too can be the best at something, more importantly something which is not originally mine.
This culmination saw the birth of some craze and some amaze. It started with a few thousands in 1800’s, reached millions in 1983 and gradually grew to a billion as a teenager became a demi-god through the nineties and 2000’s.
But, even after I made Cricket my game, others and my own people have repeatedly questioned my ability to be the best at it. In all those moments:-
- In the1987 World Cup when I sailed through to the semis
- In 1988 when Azharuddin hit the then-fastest 100
- In 1989 when I got a teenager named Sachin to stand up and get noticed
- In 1993 when a warrior named Kumble won the Hero Cup
- In 1996 when I defeated Pakistan at Bangalore and when Rahul and Sourav announced their entry
- In 1998 when I decimated the mighty Australians through one man
- In 2001 when another teenager named Yuvraj showed the world that India’s got Talent
- And In many more such instances;
I have proved that I can be the best.
In 2003 under Ganguly and in 2007 under Dhoni, I have shown that I can produce a TEAM which plays like a TEAM.
But still, I have been questioned about my right to call it “My Game”
Probably the loss in 1987 semis could have made you ask this, or maybe the one in the 1996 semis where Kambli cried like a baby; or is it the loss to Pakistan at Chennai in 1998 in the test I should have won, surely the one in the 99 World Cup where my team capitulated from a winning position against Zimbabwe; 2003 World Cup final or 2007 loss against Bangladesh – each of these questions is a permanent scar on my face, a doubt within myself whether I am the best and whether ‘Is this game really mine?’
Then I get an answer from my people, the same people who ask these questions.
The answer is simple, “It does not matter whether we are the best or not, it is OUR GAME and something that is APNA will always remain APNA”.
But, we have to prove to the world that it is Our Game as they won’t take it for granted, and there is no better opportunity to prove it then NOW.
The War has begun and it is being fought on my own soil.
I have to win the smaller battles first, the ones which will be taking place in the battlefields of Bengaluru, Chennai, Mohali, Ahmedabad, Dhaka, Delhi, Nagpur (the Srirangapatnams and Haldighatis and Panipats) to seek entry to the divine battlefield of Kurukshetra aka Mumbai on April the 2nd, 2011. Only this victory at Mumbai can stave off those scars and provide answers to the seekers.
As said in the Mahabharata:
Yada Yada Hi Dharmasya
Glanirva Bhavathi Bharatha
Abhyuthanam Adharmaysya
Tadatmanam Srijami Aham
Paritranaya Sadhunaam
Vinashaya Cha Dushkritaam
Dharma Sansthapnaya
Arthaya Sambhavami Yuge Yuge
it is time for Sri Krishna to arrive and guide the Pandavas and their army to righteous victory, to lay all questions to rest, to kill the ghost of the past, to establish what is mine as mine.
I am INDIA and SACH shall prevail.
Satyameva Jayate !!!
