India’s Mad Obsession with Cricket
Read this at your own risk, you are duly warned
Disclaimer
As I began thinking about writing this article, I was certain it would stir up strong emotions. Everything here is my perspective, shaped by my understanding, and I’m fully aware that my assumptions could be wrong — feel free to challenge them. This is, in a way, an extension of my article on India’s Unending Obsession with the English language, although the subject matter is entirely different. No, I am not obsessed with the things India obsesses over, but rather with subjects that need to be revisited.
The Sacred ‘Cricket’
Cricket is more than just a sport in India; it’s a nationwide obsession. From bustling metropolitan cities to the remotest villages, the game is everywhere. It’s so pervasive that every person — whether a child, adult, or elderly individual — has at some point dreamed of being a cricketer, and some would even go so far as to sacrifice everything to live that dream.
The origins of cricket in India trace back to British colonization, yet it’s the one colonial legacy that refuses to fade. While Indians fiercely rejected most symbols of British rule, cricket stood its ground and became a cultural mainstay. To put it simply: Cricket in India is as essential as air.
Cricket in India is akin to what ice hockey is to Beartown — central to the identity of the country. Much like the English language, which has been woven into the fabric of Indian life, cricket has been completely Indianized. It’s no longer just a British import; it has been embraced and enriched to the point where its importance outstrips that of any colonial influence.
Initially reserved for the elite, much like English itself, cricket gradually permeated all layers of society, a shift well illustrated in the film Lagaan. Although football is slowly gaining traction in India, it remains nowhere near cricket in terms of popularity.
To many, it’s a religion — one that transcends the traditional faiths of Hinduism, Islam, or Christianity. When people talk about India, cricket inevitably comes up.
Of all the sports, it is cricket, that rules the hearts of over 1.4 billion people. The fervor surrounding an India-Pakistan cricket match is unmatched. For millions of Indians, this is the ultimate contest, one that takes precedence over everything else, come what may!
For many, it’s not just a match; it’s a matter of national pride. When an Indian cricketer hits a century or takes a game-changing wicket, it feels like the entire nation has won. The sense of patriotism and unity that cricket evokes in India is unparalleled.
However, if you happen to be someone who doesn’t follow cricket, especially during high-profile matches like India v. Pakistan or a World Cup final, expect to be left out of conversations and possibly even looked down upon. It’s almost as if you’re expected to love cricket just by virtue of being born in India. There’s no choice in the matter — it’s either cricket, or you’re out of sync with the collective heartbeat of the country.
Cricket and Patriotism
Many people in India treat the success of the national cricket team as their own victory. They spend hours glued to the television, cheering on the players as if they are personally contributing to the win. But let’s face it:
Watching the match from the comfort of your living room doesn’t actually make you a part of the victory. The real heroes are the players on the field, not the spectators.
While the sense of national pride during a cricket match is undeniable, there’s an uncomfortable truth here. What exactly are you gaining from all of this? Virat Kohli and his team are earning millions, while you’re cheering from your couch. The success of the Indian cricket team is theirs to claim, not yours. Yes, there’s a sense of shared joy when the team wins, but let’s not kid ourselves into thinking it’s the same as being a part of that victory.
This feeling of ownership is reminiscent of our relationship with the film industry. We pay for the entertainment, just as we do when we watch cricket. But with cricket, the line is more blurred. The sense of us v. them during matches — particularly in the high-stakes India-Pakistan games — creates a level of attachment that’s hard to explain rationally.
Perhaps the best representation of this obsession is the television series Inside Edge, which explores the deep, often unhealthy relationship Indians have with cricket. It sheds light on the lengths to which people will go to indulge in their love for the game, even when it leads to moral compromises.
Cricket is not just a sport in India; it’s a social expectation. There’s an unspoken pressure to stay updated with the latest scores, match analyses, and player performances. If you don’t participate in these discussions, you risk being left out of the social fabric. Whether it’s in school, at work, or among friends, knowing about cricket is almost a prerequisite for social inclusion.
But here’s the thing: If you don’t enjoy cricket or aren’t interested in the spectacle of the IPL, there’s no need to feel guilty. You’re not required to partake in this national obsession. However, that’s easier said than done. In India, cricket isn’t just a sport — it’s a national identity. If you don’t love it, some might even question your patriotism. I admit I’m exaggerating here, but the sentiment is rooted in truth.
The Illusion of Achievement
The main point of all of this is to say that I’m not suggesting you shouldn’t be excited about cricket or feel pride when India wins. What I am advocating for is a conscious understanding of your role in it. Yes, celebrate the victories, but remember that, as an individual, you have not contributed to that victory in any meaningful way.
You have merely watched it unfold from your couch.
In reality, the time you spend in front of the television or obsessing over a match doesn’t add anything substantial to your life. Entertainment is fine, but it’s important to realize that, too often, people turn to cricket as a way to feel part of something larger than themselves. They seek validation, happiness, and a sense of belonging by equating India’s cricketing successes with their own personal achievements. But this is an illusion. You haven’t played the game, you haven’t made any real contributions — you’ve just been a spectator.
I understand that this perspective might seem selfish, and it probably is, but it’s also rooted in reality. Cricket, for all its glory and excitement, is a diversion. It’s a way for people to find meaning and joy in something external, to feel connected, to celebrate — even when, in the grand scheme of things, they’ve done nothing to earn the celebration.
People are constantly searching for reasons to be happy, for things to celebrate. Cricket becomes one of those things — a cause to rally around, a way to feel alive. But it’s just that: a cause. It’s not a true accomplishment of the individual.
One might ask, “Why raise this question? What’s the problem with people celebrating their country’s success or being happy for whatever cause that may be?” And to that, I say this: Sports have a unique power to unite people. It’s true — when your country wins, all hearts beat as one. There’s no denying the collective joy that floods through a nation when a team brings home the trophy.
But here’s the nuance: I’m not saying you shouldn’t celebrate. Celebrate the victories, feel proud, and join in the collective cheer. But my point is that we need to be conscious of what’s happening. The sense of unity and excitement is wonderful, but let’s not forget to look inward as well. Rather than just riding on the coattails of a team’s success, why not try to achieve something for ourselves? Why not be ambitious and make a difference?
At the stadium, with people cheering for their beloved motherland, you can hear everyone shouting at the top of their lungs — “India! India!”. The reverberation and the energy it generates within you, let alone the one outside you — with everyone together in perfect sync, with all the synergy in the world focused on that one cheer, is something I can’t even begin to define.
Be happy for success of other people, cheer them on, but be aware of your role in it. Entertainment is not bad, but know where to draw a line. And for masses that line is generally blurred.
For the ones who aren’t cognizant of this medium of entertainment and feel a sense of accomplishment when a team wins, please know you’re just a nobody cheering them on as they fulfil their goals and ambitions with their hard work and dedication while making the big bucks.
Draw that line. Be a little self-centred and work for yourself, there’s no harm being happy for others.