Sidhu’s no buffoon on India-Pakistan ties
There is no shortage of colourful, flamboyant politicians in India, which is why India is such a fascinatingly vibrant democracy. Neither neighbouring Pakistan nor Bangladesh has had characters like Jayalalithaa — a filmstar who became the chief minister of a major Indian state, Tamil Nadu — or N.T. Rama Rao — also a filmstar turned chief minister. I was going to add M.J. Akbar — Editor-turned central minister in that list, but thought better of it. Few sportspersons have entered Indian politics successfully, though shooter Rajyavardhan Singh Rathore, an Olympic medallist, is a minister. However, you could hardly call him colourful or flamboyant.
That description certainly fits Navjot Singh Sidhu, former Test cricketer (he was nicknamed “sixer Sidhu” for his explosive batting) and now a minister in the Punjab government. I had always thought of him as a bit of a buffoon after he left cricket to become a commentator and entertainer on TV shows. Yes, he could make the audience laugh with his clever turn of phrases. Yet, I did not take him seriously, until I met and listened to him at the recently concluded Khushwant Singh Literary Festival held in Kasauli, a small hill town. Actually, it was my idea to get him as a speaker, as we had planned a session on Punjab. He not only accepted but took part in two sessions. Both were packed. The audience lapped up his humour, and his cricketing anecdotes, laced with what has come to be known as “Sidhuisms”. But they — and I — saw the serious side of him, and were bowled over.
He explained before anybody could ask him, why he switched from the ruling Bharatiya Janata Party
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(BJP) to the Congress. His answer was entirely convincing. He had won the Amritsar Parliamentary seat continuously thrice. He was ordered to move to Kurukshetra, a “safe” seat, to make way for Arun Jaitley (who lost), the present finance minister. Though Sidhu was given a seat in the upper house of the Indian parliament, his heart was clearly in Amritsar, so he did the unthinkable — he gave up his seat. Since the BJP had cold-shouldered him, he joined the Congress party and they made him a minister in the Punjab government. The grapevine has it that the Punjab Chief Minister Captain Amarinder Singh, former Maharaja of Patiala, was none too happy, balefully eyeing him as a rival for his position.
Anyway, let’s fast-forward. Imran Khan, a cricketing buddy of Navjot, is elected Pakistan’s Prime Minister and invites former Indian cricketers Sunil Gavaskar, Kapil Dev, and Sidhu for his swearing-in ceremony. Gavaskar and Kapil Dev, indomitable on the cricket field, chicken out. But Sidhu turns up in Islamabad. I say, turbans off to him! And there he meets the Pakistan army chief, Quamar Javed Bajwa, who tells him that his country is trying to open a corridor from the Indian border to Kartar Pur Sahib, a holy Sikh shrine in Pakistan, for Sikh pilgrims to celebrate the 550th birth anniversary of Guru Nanak, the founder of the Sikh faith. In appreciation, Sidhu gives him a Narendra Modi-style hug — and all hell breaks loose in India, with even his colleague Amarinder Singh running him down.
Frankly, I see nothing wrong with the ‘hug’. On the contrary, all those who want to improve Indo-Pak ties — and I am one of them — should applaud and even hug Sindhu for what he did. I am glad to say Sindhu did not apologise. He did one better at the Kasauli Litfest. He talked about how he feels when he goes to Tamil Nadu, in contrast to visiting Pakistan. Here is the exact quote: “When I go to Tamil Nadu, I don’t understand the language. Not that I don’t like the food, but I cannot have it for a long time. The culture is totally different. But if I go to Pakistan, they speak Punjabi and English, and I can relate to that more.”
Needless to say, once again guns were trained on Sidhu. He was accused of “demeaning” his country. Really? All that he was saying was the truth, the reality. An Indian Punjabi feels more comfortable and “at home” in Pakistan’s Punjab than in Tamil Nadu. What’s wrong in admitting that? Similarly, a Bengali from India, I am sure, feels more akin to a Bangladeshi than to a Punjabi or a south Indian. It has nothing to do with patriotism. You can still be a chestthumping patriot and warm towards another person across the border, with whom you can converse easily, appreciate the same kind of music and enjoy the same type of cuisine. I believe Sidhu is instinctively doing what India and Pakistan — and perhaps Bangladesh and Sri Lanka as well — need to do: to reach out to each other, and make the Indian sub-continent a safer and happier place.
An Indian Punjabi feels more at home in Pakistan’s Punjab than in Tamil Nadu. What’s wrong in admitting that?
Sometimes it is not enough to do our best; we must do what is required. —