For a country that now proudly proclaims itself the world’s fourth-largest economy, with serious aspirations of becoming the third, it is hardly audacious to talk of hosting the Commonwealth Games in 2036 or even the Olympics sometime thereafter. After all, ambition, like inflation, is always good when it is under control. Which is why it is baffling, if not embarrassing, that India should still be a subject of ridicule for visiting sportspersons.
Air, birds and basic standards
Denmark’s world No. 3 badminton player, Anders Antonsen, complained that Delhi’s air was not worth a deep breath, let alone elite sport. We can dismiss this as a weak-hearted Scandinavian lament, unsuited to the robust lungs of the Global South. But what Antonsen said in a Danish accent is what even our Chief Justices of India have said in clear, easily understandable Indian English. The difference is that while judicial obiter dicta come free of cost, Antonsen paid a heavy price by pulling out of the India Open—though in doing so he may have saved himself from the bronchitis that Delhiites have long accepted as part of urban life.
Antonsen’s compatriot Mia Blichfeldt raised a more avian concern. Birds, she complained, were flying inside the Indira Gandhi Stadium complex, leaving behind what birds are naturally expected to drop. The Badminton Association of India responded promptly: there was no problem in the main arena, only in the adjacent KD Jadhav Stadium used for warm-ups. This is rather like saying the heart is functioning perfectly; only the kidneys and liver are in trouble.
Enter the monkeys
Then came the monkeys. A day after the bird-dropping controversy, a monkey was sighted sitting calmly in the spectators’ stands at the Indira Gandhi Sports Complex, as if it had every right to be there. Another appeared at the KD Jadhav Indoor Hall, the designated training venue. A Korean player, posting a video on Instagram, asked the obvious question: were animals being given free admission? Officials were quick to reassure everyone that the monkey harmed no one and was removed promptly.
The larger issue
That may well be true. But the point is not whether the monkey was dangerous; it is that it was there at all, sharing space with some of the world’s finest shuttlers preparing for a top-tier international tournament. Individually, none of these lapses is fatal. Collectively, however, they form a pattern that no amount of economic chest-thumping can conceal.
Hosting global sporting events is not merely about constructing grand stadiums or making ambitious bids. It is also about respect for athletes, attention to detail, and the basic discipline of maintenance. At the very least, venues must be clean, hygienic, and fit for purpose. This does not require billion-dollar investments or futuristic infrastructure—only competence, accountability, and the will to get the basics right.
