Thirukkural with the Times explores real-world lessons from the classic Tamil text ‘Thirukkural’. Written by Tamil poet and philosopher Thiruvalluvar, the Kural consists of 1,330 short couplets of seven words each. This text is divided into three books with teachings on virtue, wealth, and love and is considered one of the great works ever on ethics and morality. The Kural has influenced scholars and leaders across social, political, and philosophical spheres.Motivational speaker, author and diversity champion Bharathi Bhaskar explores the masterpiece.The photograph appeared on social media minutes after India lifted the T20 World Cup. Sanju Samson stood smiling, the trophy in his hands. Beside him stood his wife, equally radiant. She captioned the picture with disarming simplicity:
“My trophy, with his trophy.”A charming line but it also carried a quiet story of endurance. Trophies rarely belong to one person; they belong to everyone who has stood beside them.
India’s victory itself was historic. It was the
third time India had won the T20 World Cup. For the first time, the
defending champions retained the title. It was also the
first time a host nation lifted the trophy. And the venue added a layer of poetic justice: the Narendra Modi Stadium in Gujarat—the very ground where India had suffered the heartbreak of losing the ODI World Cup to Australia. This time, the same stadium witnessed redemption. India defeated New Zealand by
96 runs.
Across the tournament, Indian batsmen struck
106 sixes;
24 of them came from Sanju Samson, a player who had appeared in only
five matches.
In the quarterfinal against West Indies, India had to chase 196. Samson produced a breathtaking
97, not out. In the semifinal against England, he followed it with
89. And in the final against New Zealand, he delivered yet another
89. Three knockout games. Three commanding knocks.
Remarkably, the man who had played only the final stretch of the tournament walked away as
Player of the Series.
But this triumph did not begin in Ahmedabad. It began years earlier, with a father’s belief.
Sanju’s father, Samson Vishwanath, was a constable with the Delhi Police and a football player. Sports ran in his veins, and he trained both his sons in
cricket and football. At one point, recognising Sanju’s rare talent with the bat, he made a bold decision; he moved the family back to Kerala.
The reasoning was simple; Kerala was not crowded with aspiring cricketers. A gifted youngster might find the space to grow.
Sanju was soon spotted by former Indian cricketer
Sreesanth and later encouraged by
Rahul Dravid. Yet talent alone did not guarantee a smooth journey.
His career became a pattern of brilliance interrupted by silence—selected, dropped, recalled, benched. Even in this World Cup campaign, the team management called him in only when they needed a right-handed batsman to complement the left-handed Abhishek Sharma—a combination that unsettled bowlers.
Five matches; but they were enough to transform a benchwarmer into a gamechanger.
Coaches from Kerala recall something about Sanju’s training years. He would appear every day, rain or shine.
That is why his story resonates far beyond cricket.
Many people know the unsettling question that arises during long periods of uncertainty:
How long must one wait?But waiting, when done with discipline, is rehearsal, sharpening oneself quietly until the moment arrives.
Thiruvalluvar captured this idea with unusual boldness in a famous couplet:
“Theyvaththaan aagaadhu eninumMuyarchchi than mei varuththa kooli tharum.” "Even if fate—or the gods—do not favour you,relentless effort will still yield its reward."There is something almost defiant in Valluvar’s tone. He is not merely praising effort; he is challenging destiny itself. Persistence, he suggests, can overcome even divine indifference.
In that sense, perseverance becomes something sacred. Persistence itself becomes a kind of God.
Sanju Samson’s journey seems to embody that truth.
And when the moment finally came knocking, he answered it with sixes soaring into the night sky.