Over the top you say?

Quiet discussions and dignified celebrations are anathema to the Indian way of life. If it could emote and talk, the average Indian ear drum would first burst into tears, and then after composing itself, confess that it curls up into a foetal position every time a festival, a wedding, an ambassador (the car) or an Indian cricket victory approaches. For this reason and others, Andrew Symonds’ comments about the celebrations following India’s T20 triumph need to be examined. Why indeed did we go crazy with joy?

Will Luke in this excellent blog, The Corridor, has some snapshots of the absolute bedlam that greeted the open top bus ride undertaken by the cricketers in Mumbai on their return from South Africa. An ocean of humanity does not even begin to describe it and there’s plenty more where that came from! Indians, emotionally speaking, are masters of the extreme. From covering cricketers’ houses in items fit for the compost pit to placing the very same people on pedestals rarely afforded to the mortals, it’s all in a day’s work for us. We are a very vocal people who greet a Tendulkar boundary with firecrackers and homespun versions of the Bhangra. The polite claps (or so they seem like on the tele) that greet a Pietersen six in England would probably make the crowds go ballistic in India – if he were Indian of course. This is an endearing trait – the ability and the want to celebrate even the smallest happiness. If I were to pick a representative of India from the current cricket team, it would be Sreesanth. Now, before you show up at my door with a straitjacket, hear me out.

Sreesanth must be as eccentric a character as any other to have plied his wares in both white and coloured pyjamas. But as a spectator, each match with him is a spectacular roller coaster. Which Sreesanth will show up for a particular match has become a delightful mystery that unfolds with the first ball he bowls. The average Indian is only a slightly tempered version of him- idiosyncratic, unpredictable, struggling to keep his emotions from spilling out and brilliant on days when the little voices in his head are in tune with each other (I mean, have you looked at that seam position?! It’s a thing of beauty – ranked number two behind Eva Longoria in my ‘Things which make me go ga-ga’ list; in completely different ways of course). Anyway, the pre-digression point was that we, like Sreesanth, do tend to go overboard with our feelings, be it in sports, politics, or the latest episodes of soaps which would have us believe that the average Indian lifespan resembles that of the tortoise.

Mentioning soaps of course brings me to the Indian media, my favourite topic of discussion. Each time I go back to India, I observe the workings of the media with morbid fascination. It is like watching a horrifyingly spine chilling movie. You cover your eyes (well I do), but still see it through the gaps between your fingers. I mean, an industry which telecasts shows like ‘Match ka Mujrim’ (‘Culprit of the match’) should be bound, gagged, shot thrice, trussed up in a sack and then drowned – just to make sure. But it can’t - it’s not a person you see. So this gargantuan industry keeps churning out mind-numbing drivel the sorts which would make a shoe bang itself over its head with frustration, pack up its bags, depart for shores where the media treats people like they have an IQ greater than 3 and continue existing without any qualms.

What the Indian media does reflect though, albeit mostly in poor ways, is the passion for cricket in India. Let me take a break from media bashing to say that this passion is definitely a mitigating factor in the quality and quantity of cricket features shown every day. The media cannot be blamed for trying to provide the public with something they just cannot have enough of. Combine this furious passion with the psyche of a typical Indian, throw in a definite dearth of international achievement, and you get the perfect recipe for madcap celebrations when the team finally does win something of note. And thus the cascade of humanity in Mumbai on 26^th September.

Another reason which demands an extra mug of beer and a shakier shake of the leg is that Australia is not the top dog in all three formats of the game – not until 2009 at least. Frankly, if the West Indies were not dealing with issues of their own, South Africa and New Zealand were not trying to figure out where it went all wrong..again, Pakistan were not celebrating their own superb performance and good omens for the future, Sri Lanka were not soothing the wounds of that 10 wicket caning, England were not trying to figure out how to avoid a repeat of the 2006 Ashes and Bangladesh were not introspecting on their unfailing ability to implode, I think all their players would have thrown caution to the winds and joined into the festivities. I also think the above sentence was a massive one. Anyway, the cricket world did heave a collective sigh of relief when the supermen from Down Under were ousted in the semi-finals and Indians were given another reason to party.

This brings us to the identity of our opponents in the finals. Defeating Pakistan in the most trivial pursuits, even these days when the nature of the rivalry resembles England-Australia more than it does U.S-Iran, is greeted with cheers across the country. Cricket is not a trivial pursuit.

So there you have it. An expressive nation, a cricket crazy public, an eager media, a fallen (at least for now) conqueror and a vanquished arch rival. Mr. Symonds, need I say more?