The need for a mahatma now

"These are beautiful yet troubled times," said Simon Gammell, director of the British Council in Mumbai, in a pithy introduction to Nobel laureate Orhan Pamuk the other night. I suspect Gammell meant this in a holistic sense, but it could so easily also apply to the state of cricket currently.

The game has become richer and bigger than ever before. Superb young players today combine remarkable skills with a sense of derring-do that is probably unmatched in the history of the game. The advent of Twenty20 cricket and the cash-rich leagues in India have added hitherto unforeseen and exciting dimensions to the game. In many ways, this is the second coming of cricket's Golden Age, the first, historians tell us, being at the cusp of the 20th century when CB Fry, Ranjitsinhji, Victor Trumper, and so on were around.

And yet, when you juxtapose this scenario with what happened in Lahore earlier this week, cricket has never been worse off. Nothing, surely, can mitigate the horror of the terror attack on the Sri Lankan team. Not only has it exposed the hollowness of the claim that cricketers were exempt from such threats in the subcontinent, but a new, murderous reality has set in, stripping the sport of the last vestige of innocence and hero-worship that it enjoyed in this part of the world.

Cricket, of course, would be Greek to Pamuk, who is Turkish, but the issue of terrorism transcends just sports, and must occupy the mind of a writer who has faced the wrath of extremists in his home country for viewing history in dissonance with 'nationalistic' sentiment.

Conflicting ideologies is not new to humankind; neither is violence, though the form it has taken in recent times would make it seem like apocalypse is already upon us. What drives young men to such indiscriminate, seemingly senseless acts of terror is something that still seeks appropriate analysis. But, perhaps, analyses are not the answer; perhaps it lies in the teachings of non-violence by a Mahatma.

Alas, the last such soul who walked this planet is now recalled more for the squabbles to define the ownership of his spectacles and his chappals rather than the legacy of his thoughts.

By the way, if Mahatma Gandhi had to revisit this earth and look at his newfound benefactor with his recently reclaimed glasses, he might break into that famous toothless chuckle of his, and the even more famous exhortation to the Lord, "Hey Ram!" After all, Vijay Mallya makes for a highly unlikely follower. His flamboyant, high-octane lifestyle (booze, after all, is his business) is the very antithesis of everything that Gandhi stood for. Of course, Mallya can spin yards of yarn (pun intended), but over a tipple. And a Dandi march would be too taxing for somebody who prefers to take his private jet for the shortest hop.

Yet, MKG would be intrigued. In his lifetime, he was not averse to rubbing shoulders with industrialists, and his association with one famous business house is well-documented, but none from this ilk — not new money or old — who would have been expected to make a bid for his memorabilia even entered the debate that has grabbed international attention, leave aside the auction hall.

What could have compelled Mallya to spend Rs9 crore on getting Gandhi's paraphernalia back home must now become the subject of deep study. A cursory scan of some of the business papers reveals that Mallya's net worth has plunged from $1.6 billion in 2007 to $390 million today. His flagship company United Breweries has lost 79% of its market value since its peak.

So, what gives? A sense of timing for the big occasion, surely. In recent times, Mallya has bought a Formula One team and a cricket franchise in the IPL, but in 2003, remember, he also bought the sword of Tipu Sultan. All these, however, were in the good old days when business was booming and cash flow was no problem.

So is Mallya an opportunist or does he have a sense of history too? Indeed, is he actually a Gandhian who has come out of the closet? Of course, MKG himself might see these queries as superfluous. Those who swore by him were up to no good in any case.