The aerostat hovers over the Jawaharlal Nehru Stadium during the Commonwealth Games opening ceremony on Sunday. Picture by Rajesh Kumar

New Delhi, Oct. 3: Aloft, the big boy of a balloon was still defying gravity and watching over the Commonwealth Games as the night grew old.

The adorable kids also won hearts, arraying themselves to form an elegant namaste as Hariharan crooned Swagatam Nava Bharatam.

So, has the Commonwealth Games opening ceremony survived the Indian curse?

Yes, if you were at the Jawaharlal Nehru Stadium and taking in the Rs 80-crore aerostat, the giant helium balloon that hogged the limelight.

No, if you were watching the opener on Doordarshan, the only broadcaster allowed to beam it “live” in India.

If the opening ceremony lived up to the adjectives tailor-made for such events — “glittering”, “dazzling”, “vibrant” and “spellbinding” — Doordarshan managed the near-impossible feat of making the spectacle “sound” like a Republic Day Parade.

Also, as part of its laudable and patriotic effort to add to the nation’s coffers, the national broadcaster interrupted coverage with frustrating commercial breaks: the first one nearly 10 minutes long.

So long was the break and so fragile the reputation of the Games organisers, many viewers assumed something had gone terribly wrong at the venue and the glitch was being covered up by the shower of commercials.

For the record, things were going along swimmingly inside the Jawaharlal Nehru Stadium, the venue of the opening ceremony.

Even the much-maligned Suresh Kalmadi’s soporific speech-reading skills managed to draw repeated rounds of roars, variously interpreted as jeers and cheers. Those in the stadium had little doubt: the boos were for Kalmadi and bouquets for the others.

 

Many of the 60,000 spectators appeared to know their politics well, cheering wildly at the mention of such names as Sonia Gandhi, Sheila Dikshit and Atal Bihari Vajpayee (all figured in Kalmadi’s thanksgiving).

Not that the audience was not discerning. Stony silence greeted Kalmadi when he tried to do a Barack Obama but fell short of the passion as he pip-squeaked: “Yes, we can.”

On the topic of cheers, the most deafening round of applause was reserved for former President A.P.J. Abdul Kalam, who was referred to as Abdul Kalam “Azad” by a nervous Kalmadi.

Sonia Gandhi and Prime Minister Manmohan Singh also received a rapturous round of applause. Not bad for Singh who had lost an election from this very south Delhi constituency 12 years ago.

Not many in the crowd seemed to notice when BJP leader L.K. Advani and leader of Opposition Sushma Swaraj were shown on the screen for several minutes.

When Prince Charles stood up, shouts of “India” reverberated throughout the stadium.

If the cheerleaders were nursing hopes of a colonial-era epic battle, they were in for a letdown. The prince read out in his baritone a statement from Queen Elizabeth II, the concluding part of which was put under the microscope because of a debate earlier over who would “open” the Games.

The prince quoted the queen: “I have much pleasure in declaring the 19th Commonwealth Games open.”

Then stepped in President Pratibha Patil, who injected a surprising element of zeal into the operative part.

Forced into a dramatic pause because of the loud cheers after she uttered “Let…”, the President allowed the noise to subside, marshalled the might expected of the First Citizen and declared with a flourish that would have done any Athenian proud: “Let the Games begin.”

By then, Doordarshan was just beginning to get the hang of the game. The lack of pre-event co-ordination between those who lit the stadium and DD camera teams was evident. Often, the cameras were blinded by the glare of lights.

Very few camera angles were at play, most of them static. Sometimes, the cameras roved without knowing where to go. If viewers got fed up and closed their eyes, the commentary sounded no different from the usual January 26 parade drone.

The ceremony ended around 10pm but Doordarshan’s “live” telecast dragged on till 11pm as the feed got deferred because of the frequent commercial breaks.

Bengal had its moments at the opening ceremony. Jamling Tenzing Norgay Sherpa and Peter Hillary marched with the New Zealand contingent to inspire the athletes. The march was to keep alive the spirit of what their fathers — Tenzing Norgay and Edmund Hillary — had achieved 57 years ago when they scaled Mt Everest for the first time.

Mamata Banerjee’s railway bandwagon, too, trundled through the venue, providing some amusement after a heavy dose of culture.

To the swaying tune of Chhaiya, Chhaiya, the wagons wound their way through. One was packed with cycles, presumably to hammer home the primacy given to the common man by the utility, not to mention its minister. Another filled with a thicket of microphones and politicians also stirred the curiosity of the spectators.