From chaos to chorus, India gets its act together

The first big test of Indian national pride was won on Sunday, during the opening ceremony of the Commonwealth Games that played in front of a packed audience at the Jawaharlal Nehru Stadium.

Like that much-talked-about Indian wedding, the hosts pulled it off — not just salvaging the Games in the eyes of the world, but making a spectacular statement. The India story that unfolded over two hours on Sunday evening wasn’t breathtaking, but it had plenty to engage the audience — both live, and TV. Most importantly, that the spectacle went off without a single glitch should warm a disheartened country.

Something changed after the speeches and official ceremonies that were sandwiched between two parts of the show. The evening became suddenly vibrant after the light and gimmickry of the first half were given up for the rustic charms of Indian life — a tableau, in the form of a train, worked up a crowd that was dulled by a long march-past of 71 countries.

The first part aspired to be spectacular, inventive, and was almost intimidating in its use of technical wizardry. The chief attraction was an aerostat, that rose spaceship-like to the accompaniment of heavy drums, lifting strange puppets that danced to ear-shattering music. Singer Hariharan followed, with his welcome song Swagatam, but by then some of the verve had gone from the show.   

It probably looked better on TV than up close, and with the contingents marching past, the crowd went into stupor, revived briefly by the sight of England, Canada, Pakistan, and, of course, India. The Indian contingent, led by Abhinav Bindra, got the kind of ovation they wouldn’t have dreamt of.

What was going through organising committee chief Suresh Kalmadi’s mind when he rose to speak? Pilloried for over a month, this was his moment. But he delivered a classic political speech, designed not for the eyes and ears of the watching world, but his political masters in Delhi.

Acknowledging the prime minister (PM), the sports minister, and most importantly, the Gandhi family, he was also careful to throw in a mention of Atal Behari Vajpayee — perhaps to placate the BJP. It was the speech of a career politician, not an embattled man who proved his detractors wrong — at least until this stage.

After the final baton run, followed by a short message from Prince Charles and president Prathibha Patil, the show unexpectedly gathered pace. With Bharatanatyam dancers working their magic and a ‘Tree of Life’ lifting a golden silhouette of a yogi, the evening had acquired something beyond just special effects cacophony.

The tableau of the Indian railways, pulling in its wake the sights of India — cycle shops, Ambassador cars, even tea kettles — was perhaps the most charming part of the show.

In a sense, the mishap-free opening ceremony was an end in itself. To have come this far seemed unthinkable not so long ago.

Even Rahman’s wrap-up song of the CWG anthem sounded strangely hummable. It was an evening that could have, given past form, ended in disaster. That it turned into something memorable was about as much anyone could have hoped for.