For generations, ever since fireworks first reached our shores through ancient trade routes, they have become part of the celebratory language of our land. In Kerala especially, the sound of crackers and the brilliance of light have long accompanied festivals—whether in temples, churches, community feasts, or public celebrations. The scale may differ according to the size and resources of each institution, but the spirit of festivity remains the same.
Among all such celebrations, Thrissur Pooram stands as one of the world’s most renowned spectacles of ceremonial pyrotechnics, admired for its grandeur, precision, and emotional power. It is not merely fireworks, but tradition, craftsmanship, anticipation, and collective memory.
Yet behind every display are workers who manufacture, transport, store, and prepare these materials under demanding and often hazardous conditions. In our hot summer months—when many festivals are held—high temperatures, friction, storage lapses, and handling risks can turn danger into disaster within moments.
Yesterday, tragedy struck again in Thrissur as preparations were underway for the Pooram celebrations. Fourteen workers lost their lives, and many others remain in serious condition in hospitals. Families who expected their loved ones to return home now face unbearable grief.
Pyrotechnics are practiced across the world, and many countries have developed strict safety systems in manufacturing, storage, training, and emergency response. We too must continue moving toward the highest standards of safety, so that tradition can be preserved without costing human lives.
Today, our thoughts and prayers are with the departed, the injured, and their families. May those who died rest in peace. May the wounded recover swiftly. And may this sorrow awaken renewed commitment to protecting every worker whose unseen labour creates moments of public joy.
Stay close to your core.
Let your core
feed you or bleed you.
But never abandon
it.
This is the
inspiring story of a young man from Kerala who once sat quietly on the reserve
bench of the team, watching others lift the ICC Men's T20 World Cup trophy in
2024 in the West Indies. Two years later, he would stand on the podium as the “Player
of the Tournament”.
His name is Sanju Samson.
In 2024 he was
good enough to make the India national cricket team, but not good enough to
play a single match. The tournament came and went, and Sanju remained what
critics often called him — a “bench warmer.”
Later, he was
part of India’s tour of Australia. Once again, he travelled with the team,
trained with the team, but watched the matches from the sidelines. Opportunity
knocked rarely.
When he finally
got chances in a few games, the results were disappointing. His batting failed
him badly. The team management tried him in different batting positions,
searching for the right fit. His wicket-keeping remained dependable, but in a
country like India, where talent flows like a river, dependability alone is often
not enough.
Soon new young
players arrived with explosive performances. Sanju was dropped.
For any
sportsperson, this is the most dangerous moment , when the world begins to
doubt you and slowly you begin to doubt yourself.
Emotionally
drained and questioning his own ability, the dream of becoming a World Cup hero
began to feel almost unrealistic. Even his most loyal supporters were preparing
themselves for the possibility that their hero’s time had passed.
But there was
one thing Sanju refused to abandon, his “core”.
Even when he was
out of the team, he practiced like a man who believed his opportunity could
come in the next match.
When the 2026
ICC T20 World Cup began in India, the team’s famous young opening pair
initially struggled under pressure. Yet India kept winning, someone or the
other stepped up in every match.
Then came the
shock.
South Africa
defeated India convincingly in a group match. The defeat stunned the stadium
into silence. When you play India in India, you are not facing just eleven
players, you are facing an entire nation
in the stands. Criticism drowned the Captain and the Coach.
The team
management analysed the problem quickly. Their two left-handed openers were
struggling against certain right-arm bowling angles. The solution was simple
but bold, introduce a right-handed batter at the top and add to the fire power
in the Power-play.
That meant
bringing Sanju Samson back.
Some critics
mocked the decision. Some even said India was effectively playing with ten
players. The coach and the captain remained steadfast in their decision.
Those inside the
team knew something important: Sanju had been practicing every day as if his
chance would come tomorrow.
His first two matches
at the group level were ordinary. Critics snarled as India’s chance of getting
into the knock out stage following the defeat became thin, but the management
kept him on even after they reached the knock out stage.
The Virtual
Quarter Finals, the first match in the Knock-Out changed everything.
At Eden Gardens
in Kolkata, chasing 197 against the West Indies wickets kept falling around
him. Amid the chaos stood Sanju Samson , calm, composed, and unshakeable.
He scored ‘97
not out’, guiding India to victory and into the semi-finals. The country
suddenly sat up and noticed. The hero they were looking for in the World Cup
has arrived. Overnight, the former bench warmer became a national hero.
In the
semi-final at Wankhede Stadium in Mumbai, India was put to bat first. Sanju
delivered again, a magnificent ‘89 runs’,
helping India post 253. England chased valiantly, the match was won by seven
runs. The nation erupted. Senior
cricketers and commentators gave him his due. Millions began following him on
social media. His journey from obscurity to stardom captured the imagination of
the country.
Then came the
final. At the Narendra Modi Stadium in Ahmedabad, India lost the toss and were
asked to bat on a tricky new pitch. Once again Sanju rose to the occasion. He
scored another brilliant 89, leading India to a massive total of 255. The top
three batters all scored rapid fifties, a trio, cricket experts later called
“The Famous Three.” New Zealand never recovered. India won the final by 96 runs.
The disgrace of being a joke to even the most Junior cricketers of the team
turned to respect.
Sanju Samson
finished the tournament with 321 runs at a strike rate of 199.37 from five
innings and was named “Player of the Tournament”. He hit 24 sixes in these many
innings.
Behind this
story lies another powerful story.
The story of a father,
a Delhi policeman from a small fishing village in Kerala, and a mother who
believed in the power of sports and their children’s dreams. They took their
young boys to cricket training from the age of five.
Eventually the
father made a life-changing decision: he left his job and moved the family back
to their village in Thiruvananthapuram so that his children could pursue
cricket seriously even though it meant he had to work harder and longer to give
them the training and the playing gears. The youngest boy in that family was
Sanju Viswanath Samson. The boy who spent more time sitting on the national
team benches than playing matches. The boy who sometimes failed so badly that even
he doubted his own talent. Yet he kept working.
He stayed true
to his “core”. Today his story has entered the folklore of Indian cricket, a
story that will be told and retold for generations. Not because he scored runs.
But because he never abandoned the talent he believed God had given him. So
remember this:
Stay true to
your core.
Work on your
gifts.
Trust the
abilities placed inside you.
Even when you
feel like nothing more than a bench warmer, if you stay close to your core, one
day your core will deliver you. It could be tomorrow, or the day after.
But it will.
