Deconstructing the fanatic myth

MUMBAI: As a cricket lover who has grown up in England, the chance to experience the World Cup atmosphere in Mumbai was more than exciting. The British impression of cricketing fanaticism in this country, the crowds, the painted faces, the jumping and shouting, the pure mayhem, have become a vision of India as ingrained on the British psyche as the Taj Mahal.

One reason for this is the injection of passion for the game brought to the UK by youngsters of South Asian descent, primarily Indian and Pakistani. They stand out both from the reserved ‘village green’ cricket supporter, who frowns upon any show of emotion beyond politely clapping, and the increasingly prominent Barmy Army soldier, who occasionally notices the cricket match that provides a backdrop to his day of drinking beer in the sun.

The perceived passion of Indians translates to the idea that, here, cricket is the ‘people’s game’, not the product of expensive schools and an eccentric sense of humour.

And so, arriving in Mumbai ahead of the opening ceremony, I expected signs of World Cup Fever, India flags adorning every wall and lamppost, garlanded pictures of the ‘Demigods’ Sachin, Saurav and Rahul.

I thought every conversation I had with taxi drivers, liftmen, office workers, shop owners and miscellaneous street dwellers would be suffuse with enthusiasm and revolve around only one subject. I was wrong. The people I have met have expressed interest but little excitement, several have had to ask when India are first playing and against who.

When I measured this alongside the scope of the media coverage, and the extent to which every company in India is very publicly making its best wishes for the team known, I thought perhaps the ‘Indian Cricket Fan’ legend was just that, another externally generated stereotype of Indian life.

The wake-up call has eventually come however. In the face of an overblown media frenzy, itself created by an overblown World Cup in which all but a few of the early games are foregone conclusions, the Indian public has shown its true colours.

Mixed with passion and enjoyment is a keen discernment, a sense that that the economic forces surrounding cricket will not dictate terms to the fans that give cricket its life. These fans love neither hype nor empty spectacle; they understand that this World Cup is not started yet, and that its excitement will come from the field, not from the offices of advertising executives.

No amount of billboards will match the buzz created by India’s first game against an improving Bangladesh on Saturday. Once the first ball is bowled, the fever can begin. After all, it will need to be sustained for a long time if India is to reach the final again. And will surely reach such a pitch that the petrol pump attendants I saw dressed head to toe in the India uniform will swap their sheepish looks for proud ones.

Varun Zaiwalla has a Masters in Postcolonial Studies from London. He’s interning with DNA to tap the ground realities beyond theory