Smells like Sourav spirit

Smells like Sourav Spirit
[Written on Sep 12, 2008 - when Sourav Ganguly, the ex-India captain, was contemplating retirement]
 - Partha Sarathi Chatterjee

As news articles crop up on Sourav’s fading from cricket, it is time to evaluate the Sourav sprit – smell the essence of the man.

Sourav was just not a cricketer - he unknowingly became the symbol of Bengal and the new India. My note is about Sourav the man, what he meant to Bengal and in a broader sense, India.

I was in India that winter - the day Sourav became the Indian captain, some time after Amartya Sen got his Nobel Prize. I remember my dad saying: “We think Bengalis are intellectual. There are many more fireworks and celebration tonight than when Amartya Sen got the Nobel.” True!

Years of failure or at least retrenchment in Bengal as India shone gave Bengalis a defensive attitude, a sense the whole of India was against it, may be the excuse as to why they did not succeed. Bengalis were moving out of Calcutta, selling their ancestral land to promoters. Flats built there were being gobbled up by “outsiders”. My neighborhood of traditional Bengalis (“bonedi ghotis”), where I could tell you the habits of a Bidesh Bose or Manas or Babloo Bhattacharjee growing up (where on Saturdays either I went for a Mohun Bagan match or watched them practice), got transformed into this place where people played cricket and I did not know any  of them or their parents.

We were failing – the whole of India was against it. We do not stand up – we are “bheto” Bangali. We take things handed out to us – we complain but do not contest. There was a persecution complex – every time I went to Calcutta (since 1990), I heard that. Same old story!

My mom, who hated sports, as my dad and I reveled in it growing up, always said “God will take care of it. Bhabityabya.”

In the broader context, previously Indians were meek, submissive compared to the outside world. They deferred rather than differ; they agreed rather than made people agree.

Then, in came this man, who brought fighting spirit; proactively pushed fighting young men to the team. He believed that we always had the talent – we needed the right self-belief and aggression. Ready to do battle and not cower in front of the opponent! Sourav, as a captain, believed in these fighters – Yuvraj, Harbhajan, Sewag, Kaif. As a captain, he led from the front – these guys knew the captain had their back. They gave their all for Dada  – the team spirit was unbelievable!

On a cloudy day at Lords, with India in dire traits, Kaif and Yuvi pulled India out and the captain, shirtless, waved his shirt on the Lords balcony. To some, it was blasphemy; to the masses, it was a charismatic leader throwing down the gauntlet. The masses started to believe – this is a new India!

World conquerors Australia ate humble pie in India – with an improbable win after a follow-on. Hundred thousand crazies, in the garden of Eden, paid their obeisance to the leader and fighting team spirit. The myth was born!

Finally, came the World Cup in South Africa. India went to the finals against all odds. The whole nation was fixated. The non-believing Bengalis found an icon. My mother, who hated sports, started only talking about Sourav – more than my dad. He stood upto arm-twisting - what many of the people wanted to do – not cower, not be afraid of one’s power. The Bengalis, who ate “phish” and played “phootball”, now had Sourav – top that! New India looked upto him – he did not have the talent of a Tendulkar, the proper style of a Dravid; but, he did have guts, self-belief and a desire to take on the world.

India, that was shining, that now brimmed with self-confidence, that went multinational, had the most appropriate leader – Sourav. He exemplified all what India had needed in the past and lacked; all what was supposed to be against the Bengali character. From the grand-mom to the grand-kid, they worshipped Dada. They vicariously lived all his successes; they saw themselves standing up to intimidation – showing the world – we want to be counted. A Bengali became Dada to all Indians!

Sourav’s final hurray was the incredible comeback after being sidelined by the brashest Aussie of all – Greg Chappell. Well, time seems to have come to bid adieu!

People remember the glitzy malls, the cybercafés, the latest designer clothes, the electronic gadgets as the transformation of Calcutta. I salute the no-nonsense spirit, incredible self-belief and the confidence to try to do the unthinkable – that is the new India and Bengal, that is what Sourav signified.

Hundred years ago, Swami Vivekananda had said: “'You cannot believe in God until you believe in yourself.” Well, Sourav exemplified that!

Salute Sourav! Sabaash Sourav!