In the 1987 cricket world cup, Indian fans were irritated by a familiar chant they heard every time Pakistan played a game.
In that world cup, hosted jointly by the two sub-continental neighbours, hundreds of Pakistani girls used to descend on the stadium and mockingly sing ‘_Aa Dekhen Zara Kisme Kitna Hai Dum’—_a popular RD Burman-Kishore Kumar song from Sanjay Dutt’s debut movie— to both taunt and dare the home team’s rivals.
In the semi-finals at Lahore, when Pakistan lost to Australia, Indian fans were ecstatic. Allan Border’s Australia not only got rid of the rivals, who used to boss over us during the ’80s, but also silenced the taunting, provocative ditty.
India— hosts, defenders and the favourites— had beaten Australia once convincingly in the group stages. Their opponents in the semi-finals were England, a team that had barely managed to enter the knock-out stages. On the basis of form, momentum and the quality of opposition, a win in the final appeared just a formality. Champagnes were on ice, parties had been planned; everybody was just waiting for India’s inevitable win.
But the next day—November 5, 1987—a million Indian dreams were shattered. Sunil Gavaskar, playing his last international game, was bowled by Phil DeFreitas; captain Kapil Dev hit a reckless short to midwicket; Mohammed Azharuddin played a stupid shot in the final overs and Ravi Shastri was caught by the keeper trying to hit a six. Like Pakistan, India too failed to show their ‘dum’ and got knocked out.
The loss was important for two reasons. One, for the first time the Indian team had disappointed fans (before the 1983 win, nobody cared about the world cup enough). Two, it give rise to an ugly beast: the angry Indian fan.
After the unexpected loss in Mumbai, the fans were furious. Gavaskar’s retirement was ruined by sporadic protests and scathing criticism, Shastri was booed the rest of his life (Shastri hai, hai was always the background score at every performance) and there were snide innuendos and rumours about how India and Pakistan had both lost by design. Back then, there was no mushy campaign wishing or hashtag wishing #GoodbyeGavaskar or expressing gratitude to Kapil Dev, two of India’s greatest cricketers.
I have given this long prelude just to point out a simple fact: The Indian fan has always been furious after a loss in the world cup. Nothing, not even a semi-final berth, has fulfilled his hopes and expectations. Booing the team, pelting stones, setting stands on fire—at Eden Gardens during the 1996 semi-final against Sri Lanka, ridiculing and humiliating players and their families—after the initial setbacks in 2003 and the early exit in 2007—have been typical Indian reactions to a loss.
But, 2015 was surprisingly different. Though some TV channels outraged over the loss and a few jokes were circulated against Anushka Sharma, the fans reacted to the loss at Sydney with remarkable sang-froid, with an expression that has otherwise been an Indian trademark—chalta hai.
The disappointment was expressed on Twitter, Facebook accounts and, perhaps, during bar-room discussions later in the evening. But, unlike the violent reactions in the past, India moved on with remarkable calm and poise.
On any other day, incensed fans would have added to the chorus of TV channels demanding public execution of some of the cricketers. But by Thursday night, the anger was instead directed at Times Now—the leader of the lynch mob—for ridiculing the team. And most of the hashtags were in support of Dhoni and his boys.
Contrast this with the semi-final against Sri Lanka in 1996, when the match had to be abandoned after spectators at the Eden Gardens set the stands on fire and threw stones, bottles and whatever they could find after the Indian batting collapsed. The cricketers who were treated as demi-gods just a few days ago for dismantling Pakistan in the previous match, were almost hounded out of the ground.
Even in 2003, when India got off to a shaky start against minnows Holland and lost to Australia in the qualifiers, violent fans protested in various places, burnt effigies of Sachin Tendulkar and Virendra Sehwag and threw stones and black paint on Mohammad Kaif’s home . And the less said about the ugly, violent backlash after the first-round exit in 2007, the better.
So, why did Indians react with calm this time? Is this a sign of maturity or a symptom of the declining passion of the followers?
The 2015 world cup was different from the others in many ways. First, the fans were not desperate for a win. Over the past six years, MS Dhoni and his men had won almost every ICC trophy on offer—the World Cup, T-20, Champion’s Trophy. In the mind of the satiated fan, there was no desperation for proving yet again that their team is among the best. That argument was sealed some years ago.
The expectations from the 2015 team were not very high. It was a relatively inexperienced side that had struggled overseas, especially in Australia. The batting lineup didn’t hold out the promise of Gavaskar, Vengsarkar, Kapil Dev, Azharuddin, Tendulkar, Dravid, Sehwag, Ganguly, Yuvraj or a Gambhir. And not many knew who the squad’s first-choice bowlers are. In the end, the team surprised everybody with its performance in the qualifiers and dominating teams like Pakistan and South Africa.
Frustration has its genesis in hope; violence in betrayal. None of these factors existed this time. But for the anchors in TV studios, many of whom may not have held a cricket bat in their hand or ever felt the pressure of beating a team like Australia in their backyard, nobody felt any shame in being beaten at Sydney.
And rightly, though the Indian team lost, the fans finally won the battle against their irrational, violent past. India should be proud of Dhoni and his men. But even more so of its cricket fans.