Winsome winners

Illustration/Uday Mohite

Two wins in a week have kept us smiling. The Women's Cricket team won the World Cup and even cricket un-lovers, yaniki me (as long-time readers of this column might recall, I am a die-hard cricket unlover who for a long time did not know Virat Kohli was a cricketer being under the impression that he was a model), could not stop smiling. We scrolled through one video after another of the players, lip syncing to film songs, making dance reels, clearly led by Jemimah Rodrigues, she who should get a World Cup for the most open smile.

In other parts of the world, Zohran Mamdani's campaign had also charmed us in spite of everything. And by everything, I mean that somewhat cringe desire to announce their proximity to Zohran and family, with zero self-awareness about their privilege. But it was easy to ignore this name-dropping because of Zohran himself, with his droll rap videos, his Bollywood-themed campaign which went from DDLJ to Dhoom by way of soca and queer clubs, and his good-natured humour.

We may say that we champion these stories because everyone loves it when an underdog wins. But I think it is something far deeper, far grander that has happened. What is sweetest about these two victories is the palpable beauty with which they reframed what victory can look like.

For the last two decades the idea that the winner is someone who has defeated someone has ruled our culture. Our arguments are a zero-sum game. Our icons are domineering people who belittle others, or those who have risen to the top by exploiting and humiliating others. The world of Shark Tanks and Big Bosses, where even books and films must now be "pitched", has given us a paltry definition of what it means to be a winner - as someone who has made all others losers. It's lonely at the top they say. If that's your definition of winning then it would be, wouldn't it?

Quite distinct from these images, the women's cricket team and Zohran both bring winsomeness to winning. Their wholehearted love of music and dance has a meaning here - the slightly unpolished nature of their videos celebrates not expertise as much as exuberance and the community it creates. They communicate that winning can be life-affirming, not just violent triumph that cancels others. When they hug their friends and colleagues with an open joyfulness; when they are goofy, they celebrate that being with others is what makes the times good. When Zohran, however deliberately, eats biryani with his fingers, it reminds us that pleasure is tactile and need not be hidden from others who might shame us for what we enjoy. When Jemimah thanks Jesus and Zohran uses the address aunty, the way we do in a world of moonh bole rishte and a claim over each other, they signal deep self-acceptance. They bring a reminder that the world, drained by hypermasculinity, is aching for - you can be who you are and still expect to be cherished.

Paromita Vohra is an award-winning Mumbai-based filmmaker, writer and curator working with fiction and non-fiction. Reach her at paromita.vohra@mid-day.com