Growing pains

I haven’t written very much (hardly even a word) about the two most burning issues in India yet and it’s not been only due to laziness. I figured they’re getting enough attention from other sources, so why me bother? Right? Well, yes and no, it’s just that now the time seems right to offer comment. But first... the good news. No wait, the good news will have to wait a second. Let’s have the AWESOME news first.

Err... I’m actually lost for words. For the last few days I’ve used the most outlandish metaphors, similes and general statements to describe this news, and now I seem to have blown a literary fuse. I haven’t the words to embellish this outstandingly wonderful good news. I’m still reeling from it, y’see. Reeling from the fact that I haven’t been on a self-destructively fun holiday in a while, with the exception of monkeying around with LT, but that was more of a babysitting assignment (hyuk hyuk). So Bengaluru and New Delhi it is. January. To see The Prodigy. That is all...

Now onto the good news. The Commonwealth Games (to be referred to from this point as simply CWG) look like they’ll actually happen. Well, they bloody well should, given that today’s the opening ceremony. I know what you’re thinking. ’Twas only a matter of time till I too jumped on the CWG-bashing bandwagon? No. Be patient and read (and besides, I’m fighting a tight deadline, targetting wrapping this up before the ceremony starts, so I know how the CWG peeps feel).

The reality of the situation is that while the enduring image of these games, to me at least, should have been the awestruck faces of little kids watching a 100-metre race or some long (or high) jump action or the pole vault event or anything for that matter. My theory is that the more kids who find themselves more enamoured by a long-ass fibreglass pole than a wooden bat, the better our nation’s level of athletics will be. But I digress. If the kids don’t turn up, then I’d have hoped that the enduring image would have been the victory dance or celebrations of a new star. Someone who’d just broken a long-standing record. Someone who’d picked up a stack of medals.

All my scepticism and cynicism aside, I never thought it would be that image. You know the one I mean. Maybe I believed that somewhere, at some point, the authorities would actually get serious about more than lining their own pockets. It’s possible. You’d have thought that they would have considered the potential for embarrassment in front of the whole effin’ world. Maybe? The thought had crossed my mind. That’s when it hit me. Kalmadi’s corruption is not something I wish to discuss (although you have to wonder how Rs 70,000 crore or 700 billion could be so shamelessly pilfered) but it’s glaringly obvious why the CWG village was in such a squalid state.

The sports authorities in this country have always treated our athletes like shit. There’s no way of sugar coating it. Unless they’re cricketers or someone who’s (despite the shitty facilities and management) gone and won a medal somewhere — then there’ll be loads of fawning and photo opportunities. But for the majority of athletes, they’re horribly ill-treated and so, Kalmadi probably thought, “Hey, athletes are athletes. Who’s gonna notice if I pocket the money meant for them and let them slum it out. Besides it’s only 14 days. Fuck ’em.”

No Mr Kalmadi, fuck you. Corruption is one thing. Stupidity and arrogance is quite another. Claiming that these Games would be bigger and better than the Beijing Olympics is the single most moronic thing you could have ever thought of. Never mind the fact that you actually said it. And also, when you’re in the wrong, accept it. Don’t act so Goddamn brazen. Please.

Getting back to the international humiliation aspect, a lot of people are upset at the sort of outspoken criticism that India has been receiving from all quarters. Some are even questioning why the world hates India. The first thing to do is not cry and feel sorry for ourselves. Instead, use it as a reality check. Yes, the organising committee really screwed up. The government did drop the ball on this one. A lot of people made us, Indians look extremely stupid (Like the dumbass who said foreign standards and our standards of hygiene are different. WTF?). And finally, the brilliantly understanding cricket board decided to schedule an India-Australia series at the same bloody time.

But if we are to harbour dreams of rising out of this Third World Country status and being taken seriously as a world power, scrutiny and indeed, criticism is inevitable. It’s been around forever. Remember Prince Phillip in all his princely majesty looking at a fuse box that was faulty and proclaiming, “Oh I do say Lizzie, this fuse box looks like it was put together by an Indian. Narf narf narf.” To which, I’m told the Queen replied, “What have I told you, Phillip? You call me Queen.”

In fact, it’ll be worse than ever when the world sees we’re trying to assert ourselves. The criticism will go from “Oh, you’re so filthy” to “Your momma” type insults. Being so thin-skinned and crying about it isn’t the way to go. And sure, our momentum has been hit by this fiasco. But that’s alright. There’s still time. And usually, the really malicious insults have a way of coming back to bite people in the ass.

Slight detour: I was on a Prodigy bulletin board the other day, when I saw a thread about the upcoming India tour and in one of the entries, some user whose avatar picture depicted some sort of eagle in the foreground with the St. George’s Cross in the backdrop. He had written something along the lines of “Are the lads sure they want to go there? What if the stage collapses like? Heh heh”. Not very nice, but okay. On Saturday, a burst water pipe causes part of the ceiling of the visitors’ changing room at Sunderland’s Stadium of Light to come crashing down, leaving Manchester United homeless. Karma? Maybe. That’s why I’m not going to tempt a Karmic bite in the ass by saying something like “Stadium of Shite”.

Also, a shitty build-up doesn’t necessarily mean crappy Games, right? They could end up being quite good actually. India could get a massive haul of medals. Some new stars could be born. Who knows? And now that the CWG is hours from getting underway, I plan to put my support behind it. There’ll be enough digging around and heads rolling after they’re done, anyway. I just hope the right heads roll and not some scapegoats.

Speaking of scapegoats, God, who has often been blamed for so much bloodshed, animosity and bigotry in this country I call my home, probably breathed a sigh of relief this Thursday. Not for the sakes of our livers though (it was the first of three back-to-back dry days), but because the nation finally showed a bit of maturity. It hinted that maybe it’s citizens are growing up. Maybe there’s more than black and white (or in this case, saffron and green). Yes, the Ayodhya verdict where the land was split three-ways, was a little controversial, but it was brilliant to see most people saying, “Yeah alright then. It’s the fairest decision.”

Sure, the petitioners are going to appeal to the Supreme Court, but that’s what a democracy is about. Go for it. Appeal. HOWZZAT!!! (Poor taste, I know). But answer me this: how many people were killed in communal riots after the verdict? Zero. Despite the fact that the media in its overzealous reportage seemed like it was almost goading people to fight (and one newscaster actually looked dismayed at announcing that there was no violence), no one took to arms. I liked that. It filled me with hope. A feeling that despite the fact that there are still creases in our system, the ironing process has begun.

And after the CWG, we’ll suddenly wake up and realise something. Two things. Who the fuck cares about the Commonwealth anymore and why the crikey-fuck are we trying to preserve the history of colonialism?!?