I first picked up the cricket bat somewhere in an alley, surrounded by boys from my neighbourhood playing a game of cricket. They all talked about the matches, the shots, the players; and it always felt like I was on borrowed time. I was always the “kaccha nimbu”, the spare player, good enough to fill in for either side, but never truly part of the team. They would always be surprised when the ball would hit the middle of the bat; and I would hit it hard. But it always felt like I had to prove something, to prove that I belonged.
My younger cousin, who went to cricket coaching while I was unaware of the existence of the women’s team, would teach me how to defend the ball and my mom would often watch from the balcony. It wasn’t until years later, when I stumbled upon the name Mithali Raj, that I realised that the women’s team existed. That inspiring discovery combined with an obsession for watching Virat Kohli’s batting for hours turned into a madness for a game I couldn’t shake off.
Only, I didn’t know what to do with it. It was my mother who forced me to take up the sport professionally. And since that first day at the cricket club when a coach promised me that I would be the best batter that the country has seen after perfecting a shot on the very first day of the camp—that I dreamed of lifting the World Cup with the words “India” stitched across the front of my jersey.
At exactly 00:00, on the 3rd of November 2025, that dream came true. While my participation in the sport changed, from a player to a journalist, the joy remained the same.
The women’s team, who did not have a convincing nor a dominant campaign, turned the tables at the semi-final and the final of the tournament. From a less-than-ideal first innings in the semi-final to handing opener Shafali Verma the ball in the 21st over at the Final, India, under the leadership of Harmanpreet Kaur proved that it’s how you finish a game that matters.
Not a perfect run, rather a scratchy, desperate and an ugly fight. From the first match of the tournament to finally lifting the trophy.
As Jhulan Goswami captioned in her tweet, “This was my dream and you’ve made it come true”, there are millions who woke up today with a sense of calm in their heart. In India, it just so happens that in every corner of the country, there will be at least one person who didn’t make it as a cricketer but carries the same dreams as them.
Last night, every home, every shop and every phone played the game. People hooked on to their screens, feeling every ebb and flow of the game.
I remember riding with my father, on the back of a scooty to one club after another. Being turned away and told “this is a boy’s cricket club”, “we don’t have female coaches here”, “we would have coached you but we don’t have enough young girls in the club for you to practice with”; it all changed last night.
Today, no young girl will be turned away from a club. Today, parents will hand a bat or a ball to their daughters, and today we woke up to a new India that has been changed for generations to come.
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