I think it is more do with a craze for name and fame..Why can't we focus on innovation or spearheading new ideas or products..Read this
[h=3]Why Indians love world records[/h] Feb 1st 2015, 23:50 by A.R.
INDIA'S finance minister, Arun Jaitley, enjoyed a moment of light relief on January 20th. Guinness World Records handed him a certificate recognising that over 18m new bank accounts were opened in a single week in India last August, a unique feat. A drive is under way to get every household into the banking system: by January 24th at least 121m new accounts had been opened. Talk of financial inclusion is deathly dull. What excites more people is the fact of a world record, especially one certified by a foreign authority, Guinness, or by a local one, such as the Limca Book of Records. Why are Indians, arguably more than any others, obsessed with record breaking?
With a population of 1.25 billion, India has an inherent advantage over other countries when it comes to big numbers. Its sheer size means it can set records easily: it has the world's biggest biometric database (over 700m so far enrolled), for example, and the most women elected to political office (over 1m). Harder to explain is why individuals are obsessed with notching up records. According to Guinness World Records, which opened an office in Mumbai a few years ago, Indians submit more applications for record breaking than residents of any other emerging country (only Americans and Britons submit more). Add Limca and other local chroniclers of record-breaking feats, and India almost certainly outdoes everyone. Among its national achievements: the largest chapati (at 64kg) in 2005; the biggest gathering of Gandhi lookalikes (485, in Kolkata in 2012); the most persistent letter-writer (456 to a newspaper in Bhopal, between 2000 and 2006); the longest moustache (four metres and 29 cm, or 14 feet, in 2010); threading a needle 7,238 times in two hours (in 1990). The oddest? Perhaps a shoemaker, James Syiemiong, who "cracked" 26 different joints of his body within a single minute, or Radhakant Baijpai, owner of the longest ear hair (25cm).
Record-breakers' motivations vary, but several reasons could explain India's broad obsession. One is that, cricket and chess aside, Indians perform dreadfully at most global sports. The national football team, for example, is ranked 171st in the world, just behind São Tomé e Príncipe, which has a population of 190,000. World records in quirky activities might thus help to bolster Indian national pride. Second, many Indians have readily adopted organisational traits from Britain (both nations are heavily populated with nerdy record-keepers, fond of memorising cricket scores or details of the weather). Members of a college or voluntary association will often gather to achieve some shared goal, such as the 292 engineering students in Pune who skipped together on a single rope, or those Gandhi lookalikes in Kolkata who raised money for poor children. India is crammed with charities and activists promoting an issue or raising funds with some record-breaking stunt. Third, Indians are admirably comfortable with eccentricity: if you don't bat an eyelid at a religious sect that walks about naked, or accept that your neighbour meditates for much of his life, you won't carp about a single-minded record-seeker either.
A last, related, explanation is that individuals use records as a path to modest glory and income. One celebrated figure in Delhi, Guinness Rishi (he changed his name to burnish his record-breaking reputation), had collected seven records certified by Guinness by 2012, though he claimed 15 more. He boasted the most flag tattoos on his body (220), had eaten a quantity of ketchup the fastest and produced the world's smallest Koran. Why do it? He told a foreign journalist: “I have little choice but to keep trying to break records, or else I'll be forgotten”. India is so populous, in other words, it can be difficult to find a way of standing out from the crowd. Breaking any record means winning attention. Mr Jaitley did not need that, but many others crave it.
The Economist explains: Why Indians love world records | The Economist
[h=3]Why Indians love world records[/h] Feb 1st 2015, 23:50 by A.R.
INDIA'S finance minister, Arun Jaitley, enjoyed a moment of light relief on January 20th. Guinness World Records handed him a certificate recognising that over 18m new bank accounts were opened in a single week in India last August, a unique feat. A drive is under way to get every household into the banking system: by January 24th at least 121m new accounts had been opened. Talk of financial inclusion is deathly dull. What excites more people is the fact of a world record, especially one certified by a foreign authority, Guinness, or by a local one, such as the Limca Book of Records. Why are Indians, arguably more than any others, obsessed with record breaking?
With a population of 1.25 billion, India has an inherent advantage over other countries when it comes to big numbers. Its sheer size means it can set records easily: it has the world's biggest biometric database (over 700m so far enrolled), for example, and the most women elected to political office (over 1m). Harder to explain is why individuals are obsessed with notching up records. According to Guinness World Records, which opened an office in Mumbai a few years ago, Indians submit more applications for record breaking than residents of any other emerging country (only Americans and Britons submit more). Add Limca and other local chroniclers of record-breaking feats, and India almost certainly outdoes everyone. Among its national achievements: the largest chapati (at 64kg) in 2005; the biggest gathering of Gandhi lookalikes (485, in Kolkata in 2012); the most persistent letter-writer (456 to a newspaper in Bhopal, between 2000 and 2006); the longest moustache (four metres and 29 cm, or 14 feet, in 2010); threading a needle 7,238 times in two hours (in 1990). The oddest? Perhaps a shoemaker, James Syiemiong, who "cracked" 26 different joints of his body within a single minute, or Radhakant Baijpai, owner of the longest ear hair (25cm).
Record-breakers' motivations vary, but several reasons could explain India's broad obsession. One is that, cricket and chess aside, Indians perform dreadfully at most global sports. The national football team, for example, is ranked 171st in the world, just behind São Tomé e Príncipe, which has a population of 190,000. World records in quirky activities might thus help to bolster Indian national pride. Second, many Indians have readily adopted organisational traits from Britain (both nations are heavily populated with nerdy record-keepers, fond of memorising cricket scores or details of the weather). Members of a college or voluntary association will often gather to achieve some shared goal, such as the 292 engineering students in Pune who skipped together on a single rope, or those Gandhi lookalikes in Kolkata who raised money for poor children. India is crammed with charities and activists promoting an issue or raising funds with some record-breaking stunt. Third, Indians are admirably comfortable with eccentricity: if you don't bat an eyelid at a religious sect that walks about naked, or accept that your neighbour meditates for much of his life, you won't carp about a single-minded record-seeker either.
A last, related, explanation is that individuals use records as a path to modest glory and income. One celebrated figure in Delhi, Guinness Rishi (he changed his name to burnish his record-breaking reputation), had collected seven records certified by Guinness by 2012, though he claimed 15 more. He boasted the most flag tattoos on his body (220), had eaten a quantity of ketchup the fastest and produced the world's smallest Koran. Why do it? He told a foreign journalist: “I have little choice but to keep trying to break records, or else I'll be forgotten”. India is so populous, in other words, it can be difficult to find a way of standing out from the crowd. Breaking any record means winning attention. Mr Jaitley did not need that, but many others crave it.
The Economist explains: Why Indians love world records | The Economist