Special Report
Mark Mascarenhas – a controversial life cut short
The death of Mark Mascarenhas in a road accident near Nagpur over the weekend closed the chapter of a fiery albeit controversial personality who left his mark on the world of cricket broadcasting.
 A friend indeed – Mascarenhas with Sachin Tendulkar |
Mascarenhas shot into the limelight when he bagged the coveted telecast rights for 1996 World Cup cricket and then the 1999 ICC knockout championships in Kenya. 1996 also marked the beginning of another partnership – the signing of a breakthrough Rs 280-million deal with Sachin Tendulkar, which continued through the years despite ups and downs.
An NRI settled in America, the 44-year-old Mascarenhas flew down frequently and cricket ensured that he kept up the links with India. The five-year contract between Tendulkar and WorldTel was renewed late last year for an undisclosed amount, believed to be in excess of Rs 500 million, setting a new benchmark in cricket. Mascarenhas was reportedly also planning to start a global chain of hotels carrying Tendulkar‘s name.
The bespectacled, beefy Mascarenhas left India in 1976 at the age of 19 to go to the US to do his Masters in communication. As a student of Christ College, Bangalore, he had played alongside cricketers like Brijesh Patel, who was representing India at the time. Mark was reportedly a hard worker and excelled in TV production and showed considerable creative powers when he was doing his communication course in Mumbai. After the course, Mascarenhas spent 6 months at the BCC Centre in London, before enrolling in Graduate Communications in the US.
 Mascarenhas with his family |
A few years later, he channelised his interest for sports into a business proposition by grabbing cable rights for telecast of college football throughout the United States. In April 1993, Mascarenhas got wind of the fact that India was to stage the 1996 World Cup and the organising committee was looking for someone to buy the television rights of the tournament. Four months later, WorldTel had won the rights for the tournament, jointly hosted by India, Pakistan and Sri Lanka.
Three years after the event, the man who started WorldTel in 1989 after brief stints with radio broadcasting stations in the US, including WCBS, CBS‘s number one news radio station, found himself in the eye of a storm, accused of allegedly depriving Doordarshan of $4 million in respect of telecast rights for the International Cricket Council‘s knockout tournament in Dhaka in October 1998.
His special skill in identifying underdeveloped sports markets made him a player to be reckoned with in a highly competitive, often cut-throat industry. When major US broadcasters showed little interest in televising non-US games during World Cup soccer in the early 90s, he bid for and won the rights. The profits earned from selling the rights to televise these matches to international broadcasters made him a millionaire. He then bought rights to the Alpine Ski World Cup, with similar results.
 Mascarenhas shared a close bond with both cricketers and cricket |
The cricket World Cup rights too were not easily obtained. Mascarenhas had to outfox veterans like Mark McCormack‘s IMG/TWI and Rupert Murdoch‘s News Corp, which he did through a bid to the governing agency, PILCOM (Pakistan/India/Lanka Committee of Management). The deal included a $2.5 million down payment as part of a $ 10 million guarantee and won him the rights to bring the 1996 World Cup Cricket tournament to an international audience of over a billion people.
Once won, Mascarenhas did not stinge on quality of the telecasts. He used eight cameras and four videotape machines for the Wills World Cup, and pressed into service 18 cameras and 16 videotape machines for the Wills International Cup in Dhaka, unprecedented in cricket coverage anywhere in the world. WorldTel set up offices in Bangalore, from where Mascarenhas managed the business of player management, production, and marketing of cricket events.
Not one to lose an opportunity, Mascarenhas purchased a 344-mile gas pipeline network that was lying unused under the streets of Mumbai some years ago, hoping to convert it into an advanced telephone/cable television network capable of linking the city‘s half a million households and offices. The pipeline that was to ‘simultaneoulsy deliver gas and optical fibre‘, is currently caught up in red tape.
Another venture the intrepid entrepreneur was reportedly engaged in was a partnership with Mick Jagger to bring live cricket to the Internet.
MUMBAI: Some friendships are made in heaven; others are coded in Mumbai. Hamara Vinayak, the first-ever digital original from Siddharth Kumar Tewary’s Swastik Stories, turns the divine into the delightful, serving up a story that’s equal parts start-up hustle and spiritual hustle.
Some tech start-ups chase unicorns. This one already has a god on board. Hamara Vinayak takes the leap from temple bells to notification pings and it does so with heart, humour and a healthy dose of the divine.
At its core, the show asks a simple but audacious question: what if God wasn’t up there, but right beside you, maybe even debugging your life over a cup of chai?
The show’s tagline, “God isn’t distant… He’s your closest friend” perfectly captures its quirky soul. Across its first two episodes, screened exclusively for media in Mumbai, the series proves that enlightenment can come with a good punchline.
The series follows a group of ambitious young entrepreneurs running a Mumbai-based tech start-up that lets people around the world book exclusive virtual poojas at India’s most revered shrines. But as their app grows, so do their ethical grey zones. Into this chaos walks Vinayak, played with soulful serenity and sly wit by the charming Namit Das, a young man whose calm smile hides something celestial.
He’s got the peaceful look of a saint but the wit of someone who could out-think your favourite stand-up comic. Around him spins a crew of dream-driven youngsters – Luv Vispute, Arnav Bhasin, Vaidehi Nair and Saloni Daini who run a Mumbai-based tech start-up offering devotees across the world the chance to book “exclusive” poojas at India’s most sacred shrines. It’s a business plan that blends belief and broadband – and, as the story unfolds, also tests the moral compass of its ambitious founders.
“The first time I read the script, I found the character very pretty,” Namit joked at the post-screening interaction. “It’s a beautiful thought that God isn’t distant, he’s your closest friend. And playing Vinayak, you feel that calm but also his cleverness. He’s the friend who makes you think.”
The reactions to the series ranged from smiles to sighs of wonder. Viewers were charmed by the show’s sincerity and sparkle, a quality that stems from its creator’s belief that faith can be funny without being frivolous.
Among the cast, Luv Vispute shines brightest, his comic timing adding sparkle to the show’s more reflective beats. But what keeps Hamara Vinayak engaging is the easy rhythm of its writing – one moment touching, the next teasing, always gently reminding us that spirituality doesn’t have to be solemn.
Luv spoke fondly of his long association with Swastik. “Since my first show was with Swastik, this feels like home,” he said. “Every project with them is positive, feel-good, and this one just had such a different vibe. I truly feel blessed.”
Saloni Daini, who brings infectious warmth to her role, added that she signed up the moment she heard the show was about “Bappa.”
“We shot during the Ganpati festival,” she recalled. “The energy on set was incredible festive, faithful, and full of laughter. It’s such a relatable story for our generation: chaos, friendship, love, kindness, and faith all mixed together.”
Vaidehi Nair and Arnav Bhasin complete the ensemble, each representing different shades of ambition and morality in the start-up’s journey. Their camaraderie is easy and believable, a testament to how much the cast connected off-screen as well.
This clever fusion of mythology and modernity plays to India’s two enduring loves, entertainment and faith. Mythology has long been the comfort zone of Indian storytellers, from the televised epics of the 1980s to the glossy remakes that still command prime-time TRPs. For decades, gods have been our most bankable heroes. But Hamara Vinayak tweaks the formula not by preaching, but by laughing with its characters, and sometimes, at their confusion about where divinity ends and data begins.
Creator Siddharth Kumar Tewary, long hailed as Indian television’s myth-maker for shows like Mahabharat, Radha Krishn and Porus, explained the show’s intent with characteristic clarity, “This is our first story where we are talking directly to the audience, not through a platform,” he said. “We wanted to connect young people with our culture to say that God isn’t someone you only worship; He’s your friend, walking beside you, even when you take the wrong path. The story may be simple, but the thought is big.”
That blend of philosophy and playfulness runs through the show. “We had to keep asking ourselves why we’re doing this,” Tewary added. “It’s tricky to make something positive and spiritual for the OTT audience, they’ve changed, they want nuance, not sermons. But when the purpose is clear, everything else aligns.”
For the creator of some of Indian TV’s most lavish spectacles, Hamara Vinayak marks a refreshing tonal shift. Here, Tewary trades celestial kingdoms for co-working spaces and cosmic battles for office banter. Yet his signature remains: an eye for allegory, a love for faith-infused storytelling, and an understanding that belief is most powerful when it feels personal.
Hamara Vinayak, after all, feels less like a sermon and more like a conversation over chai about what success means, what faith costs, and why even the gods might be rooting for a start-up’s Series A round.
As Namit Das reflected during the Q&A, “Life gives us many magical, divine moments we just forget to notice them. Sometimes even through a phone screen, you see something that redirects you. That’s a Vinayak moment.”
The series also mirrors a larger cultural pivot. As audiences migrate from television to OTT, myth-inspired tales are finding new form and flexibility online. The digital screen lets creators like Tewary reinvent the genre, giving ancient ideas a modern interface, without losing the emotional charge that’s made mythology India’s storytelling backbone for decades.
In a country where faith trends faster than any hashtag, Hamara Vinayak feels both familiar and refreshingly new, a comedy that’s blessed with heart, humour and just enough philosophy to keep the binge holy.
For a country where mythology remains the oldest streaming service, Tewary’s move from TV to OTT feels both natural and necessary. Indian storytellers have always turned to gods for drama, guidance and TRPs from Ramayan and Mahabharat on Doordarshan to glossy mytho-dramas on prime time. But digital platforms allow creators to remix reverence with realism, and in Hamara Vinayak, faith gets an interface upgrade.
The result is a show that feels like a warm chat with destiny, part comedy, part contemplation. And in an age of cynicism, that’s no small miracle.
As Tewary put it, smiling at his cast, “The message had to be positive. We just wanted to remind people that even in chaos, God hasn’t unfriended you.”
With 5 episodes planned, Hamara Vinayak promises to keep walking that fine line between laughter and light. It’s mythology with memes, devotion with dialogue, and a digital-age reminder that even the cloud has a silver lining or perhaps, a divine one.
If the first two episodes are any sign, the show doesn’t just bridge heaven and earth, it gives both a Wi-Fi connection.
