When Boria Majumdar first asked me to join him, to lead production and help build operations at RevSportz, I didn’t pause. The dream he described resonated so deeply that I couldn’t say no. I had my doubts, but more than that, I had belief, belief in sport, in stories, and in what we could build together. That belief has carried me from Day 1 to today.
In those early days, our resources were modest, our team small, but our conviction was fierce. We believed that sport is more than just numbers and statistics. We believed in the human behind every run, every record, every win and loss. And so we set out, not to chase headlines, but to tell stories: the paranoia before a big match, the quiet hope in a young athlete’s eyes, the sweat on the brow of someone chasing a dream nobody else believed in.
We faced our biggest setback in the very first year, when Boria was wrongly accused by someone within the system. In the world of sport, players will always have more power, and some know how to use that to vilify people and vent their frustrations on the lesser ones. Boria was banned, and I still remember the evening we received the news. Boria, Sharmistha, and I sat together for a long meeting, a conversation about where we go from here.
But one thing never wavered: my belief. Even when many well-wishers advised me not to stand with the company, I knew exactly what I wanted to do and that was to keep believing.
Over the years, RevSportz grew, slowly, sometimes painfully, but always with purpose. From a handful of committed souls to a huge team across languages and sports. From written articles to documentaries. From covering men’s and women’s cricket to spotlighting para-athletes, Olympic hopefuls, grassroots champions. I’ve led special projects, moderated panels, flown across continents, chased deadlines, chased truth, pulled out 18-20 hour days. And each moment reaffirmed: this was no ordinary job. It was a calling.
I’ve seen teammates arrive fresh-faced, eager and uncertain and leave firm in conviction, confident in their craft. I’ve watched junior reporters rise, grow, find their voice. I’ve watched us build a newsroom that doesn’t compromise, where honesty trumps hype, where integrity overrides convenience.
And at the backbone of it all is Boria. Not a distant “boss”, but a captain who rooted for us when the waters were rough, who demanded honesty even when it wasn’t easy, who let us make mistakes, but helped us learn from them. He didn’t promise glory, he promised a platform. And we built something real.
RevSportz means more to me than a byline. It’s trust. It’s purpose. It’s the belief that sport, in all its colours, messiness, and rawness, deserves depth, dignity, empathy. It’s the silent handshake after a documentary, the teary-eyed nod after a profile on an unsung athlete, the pay cheque, yes, but more than that: the permission to care.
As we turn four, I don’t just look back at what we’ve done, I look at what we’ve become: a newsroom, a family, a movement. And I look ahead, because I know we are just getting started.
Here’s to the stories waiting to be told, to the voices yet unheard, to the games yet played. And here’s to believing.
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