Sunday, February 11, 2007
The thrilling face of a brave new India- Shashi Tharoor editorial
nice article about the changing face of india... thanks to a sreesanth six :-)
The thrilling face of a brave new India- Shashi Tharoor Editorial
We all know India has changed dramatically in recent years: the country I
left when I first went abroad as a student in 1975 would be barely
recognisable to the young Indians of today.
To those who remember the old India, there's visible evidence of change all
around from the variety of makes of car on the roads to the number of
channels on my mother's television set, not to mention the malls now
sprouting like mushrooms in chic suburbs that used to be dusty and forlorn
mofussils.
But what about the invisible evidence of change? How does one capture the
transformation of attitude that's as essential a part of what India has
become?
Sometimes a simple event encapsulates something far larger than itself.
Journalists are overly fond of 'defining moments', I know. And one should
always be wary of making too much of anything that transpires on that
theatre of the evanescent, the sports field.
But my epiphany about the new India came last month in just such a setting
during the telecast of the first cricket Test against South Africa at the
Wanderers' ground in Johannesburg.
India's new bowling hero, Shantakumaran 'Gopu' Sreesanth, was batting,
facing the charged-up South African speedster Andri Nel. "As soon as I
walked in to bat, Nel said 'I can smell blood, I can smell blood',"
Sreesanth later revealed. His first ball beat the Indian tailender all
ends-up.
Nel then marched up to the young Indian, taunting him that he didn't have
the heart to stand up to the big man's pace bowling. "You don't have the
fire, man. You should have a big heart to play me," Nel reportedly said,
thumping his own chest in full view of the TV cameras.
"You are like a bunny to me." He then declared that he would 'get'
Sreesanth with his next delivery. Nel ostentatiously changed the field for
the next ball, moving the short-leg fieldsman to deep square-leg and
informing wicket-keeper Mark Boucher, in Sreesanth's hearing, that he would
be bowling a bouncer.
The young Indian was not fooled. "I am a fast bowler," Sreesanth said
later, "and I was sure that he would bowl a length ball." Sure enough, Nel
charged in, believing the batsman was expecting a short-pitched delivery,
and bowled a fast, full-length ball on the middle stump.
Sreesanth, having guessed correctly, stepped back and with an almighty
swing hit the ball back over the fast bowler's head into the stands for
six. What followed is now one of television's most memorable moments.
No one who saw it can forget Sreesanth running down the pitch in triumph,
twirling his bat like a bandleader's baton, then breaking into a dance that
combined both relief and exhilaration: the relief of the plucky kid on the
beach who has kicked sand back into the bully's face, and the exhilaration
of one who knows that, after essaying so foolhardy a deed, he had gotten
away with it.
Nel was left not merely speechless but defanged; the sheepish expression on
his face was worth almost as much as the priceless, laugh-out-loud joy of
Sreesanth's impromptu breakdance.
Everything about the episode emblazoned a story of transformational change.
In the old India, a tailender, confronted with a fast bowler's aggression,
would have been cowed. He would either have backed away from the imminent
threat of decapitation, or (at best) have put his head down and attempted
to block the next ball.
He would have been grateful to have survived at all; there would have been
no doubt that the foreign paceman would have maintained his psychological
ascendancy. It would certainly never have occurred to the Indian to think
like a fast bowler, and it would have been beyond imagining that he would
decide to meet fire with fire.
Sreesanth's extraordinary hit over Nel's head for six encapsulated for me
all that is different about the new India: courage, assertiveness, a
refusal to be intimidated, a willingness to take risks and ultimately the
confidence to stand up to the best that the outside world can fling at us.
This goes well beyond the cricket field. Sreesanth's India is the land that
throws out the intruders of Kargil, that acquires Europe's largest steel
conglomerate in the face of taunts about 'monkey money', that exports more
films abroad than it imports, that challenges the traditional assumption of
superiority by others, that wins Booker Prizes and Miss Universe contests.
It doesn't matter, then, that India lost the next Test, in Durban. It
doesn't even matter that the entire series 'went south' in Cape Town.
Because this is not about cricket any more. It's about a state of mind a
state of mind that will also change the Indian state.
What Sreesanth demonstrated was an attitude that has transformed the
younger generation into a breed apart from its parents'.
It is the attitude of an India that can hold its nerve and flex its sinews,
an India whose self-confidence is rooted in the sober certitude of
self-knowledge ("I am a fast bowler," said Sreesanth), an India that says
to the future, "come on; I am not afraid of you."
As 2007 gets under way, let us cheer on the prospects of this India an
India whose reach and imagination can soar like a six into the skies above.
The thrilling face of a brave new India- Shashi Tharoor Editorial
We all know India has changed dramatically in recent years: the country I
left when I first went abroad as a student in 1975 would be barely
recognisable to the young Indians of today.
To those who remember the old India, there's visible evidence of change all
around from the variety of makes of car on the roads to the number of
channels on my mother's television set, not to mention the malls now
sprouting like mushrooms in chic suburbs that used to be dusty and forlorn
mofussils.
But what about the invisible evidence of change? How does one capture the
transformation of attitude that's as essential a part of what India has
become?
Sometimes a simple event encapsulates something far larger than itself.
Journalists are overly fond of 'defining moments', I know. And one should
always be wary of making too much of anything that transpires on that
theatre of the evanescent, the sports field.
But my epiphany about the new India came last month in just such a setting
during the telecast of the first cricket Test against South Africa at the
Wanderers' ground in Johannesburg.
India's new bowling hero, Shantakumaran 'Gopu' Sreesanth, was batting,
facing the charged-up South African speedster Andri Nel. "As soon as I
walked in to bat, Nel said 'I can smell blood, I can smell blood',"
Sreesanth later revealed. His first ball beat the Indian tailender all
ends-up.
Nel then marched up to the young Indian, taunting him that he didn't have
the heart to stand up to the big man's pace bowling. "You don't have the
fire, man. You should have a big heart to play me," Nel reportedly said,
thumping his own chest in full view of the TV cameras.
"You are like a bunny to me." He then declared that he would 'get'
Sreesanth with his next delivery. Nel ostentatiously changed the field for
the next ball, moving the short-leg fieldsman to deep square-leg and
informing wicket-keeper Mark Boucher, in Sreesanth's hearing, that he would
be bowling a bouncer.
The young Indian was not fooled. "I am a fast bowler," Sreesanth said
later, "and I was sure that he would bowl a length ball." Sure enough, Nel
charged in, believing the batsman was expecting a short-pitched delivery,
and bowled a fast, full-length ball on the middle stump.
Sreesanth, having guessed correctly, stepped back and with an almighty
swing hit the ball back over the fast bowler's head into the stands for
six. What followed is now one of television's most memorable moments.
No one who saw it can forget Sreesanth running down the pitch in triumph,
twirling his bat like a bandleader's baton, then breaking into a dance that
combined both relief and exhilaration: the relief of the plucky kid on the
beach who has kicked sand back into the bully's face, and the exhilaration
of one who knows that, after essaying so foolhardy a deed, he had gotten
away with it.
Nel was left not merely speechless but defanged; the sheepish expression on
his face was worth almost as much as the priceless, laugh-out-loud joy of
Sreesanth's impromptu breakdance.
Everything about the episode emblazoned a story of transformational change.
In the old India, a tailender, confronted with a fast bowler's aggression,
would have been cowed. He would either have backed away from the imminent
threat of decapitation, or (at best) have put his head down and attempted
to block the next ball.
He would have been grateful to have survived at all; there would have been
no doubt that the foreign paceman would have maintained his psychological
ascendancy. It would certainly never have occurred to the Indian to think
like a fast bowler, and it would have been beyond imagining that he would
decide to meet fire with fire.
Sreesanth's extraordinary hit over Nel's head for six encapsulated for me
all that is different about the new India: courage, assertiveness, a
refusal to be intimidated, a willingness to take risks and ultimately the
confidence to stand up to the best that the outside world can fling at us.
This goes well beyond the cricket field. Sreesanth's India is the land that
throws out the intruders of Kargil, that acquires Europe's largest steel
conglomerate in the face of taunts about 'monkey money', that exports more
films abroad than it imports, that challenges the traditional assumption of
superiority by others, that wins Booker Prizes and Miss Universe contests.
It doesn't matter, then, that India lost the next Test, in Durban. It
doesn't even matter that the entire series 'went south' in Cape Town.
Because this is not about cricket any more. It's about a state of mind a
state of mind that will also change the Indian state.
What Sreesanth demonstrated was an attitude that has transformed the
younger generation into a breed apart from its parents'.
It is the attitude of an India that can hold its nerve and flex its sinews,
an India whose self-confidence is rooted in the sober certitude of
self-knowledge ("I am a fast bowler," said Sreesanth), an India that says
to the future, "come on; I am not afraid of you."
As 2007 gets under way, let us cheer on the prospects of this India an
India whose reach and imagination can soar like a six into the skies above.
Comments:
great piece! the guy's a terrific writer.... he makes me proud to be an Indian
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# posted by 
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