By Admin 
At this moment, when you’ve created history, it’s hard to put into words just how grateful the country is. First and foremost, because of you, cricket in India need never again be called only a ‘gentleman’s game’. As we continue striving for gender equality, it’s fitting that the sport now sheds that limiting tag.
Thank you for taking women’s cricket from an era of hardship and neglect to one of hope and recognition. Thank you for showing us what it truly means to push boundaries and for proving that women are capable of holding their ground. Thank you for not letting down your parents, who believed in you even when the world didn’t always cheer as loudly, and women’s cricket didn’t get the spotlight it deserved. And thank you for sending a loud, clear message to other parents — especially fathers — to let their daughters chase their dreams, no matter how big or bold.
There cannot be a better time to applaud the pioneering efforts of Shanta Rangaswamy (first captain of the Indian women’s cricket team) and Diana Eduljee (first Indian woman cricketer to be inducted into the ICC Hall of Fame). Many others too have contributed but these two former skippers prepared the pitch, almost 50 years ago, for this glory. They inspired a generation of women in the 1970s to take up the sport — at a time when choosing one’s own path wasn’t always an option for women.
Australia’s Jill Kennare (left) and Shanta Rangaswamy going out to toss in the first three-day women’s test match at the Ferozeshah Kotla Ground, New Delhi on January 21, 1984.
| Photo Credit:
The Hindu Archives
One of them was my elder sister — a fine off-spinner who idolised Shanta and Diana. We’re eight years apart, and I still remember riding pillion on the cycle to her Sunday practice sessions at the Vidarbha Cricket Association ground or Yashwant Stadium in Nagpur, the city where we grew up. Apart from training with her team, she’d often go alone just to fine-tune her bowling. On those solo days, my job was to fetch the ball and bring it back to her after every delivery. At the end of those gruelling sessions, she’d treat me to samosas. So I never complained.
I often asked her why she even wanted to play the game, especially when there were no monetary rewards or much support from officials. She’d snap back, “It’s all about passion, you won’t understand.”
Diana Edulji in action
| Photo Credit:
The Hindu Archives
Recently, when I heard Shanta Rangaswamy mention the same words in an interview, it took me back in time. She said, “We would carry our own bedding, travel in unreserved or second-class compartments, and share our kits. Yet, if we continued playing, it was because of sheer passion.” This brought alive the image of my sister leaving home lugging a holdall (as a travelling bedding was called then) on her back and carrying a few well-worn T-shirts and sporting pants in a rexine duffle bag when travelling to nearby towns for matches.
She would return home tanned and tired, only to be greeted by nosy neighbours asking why she had become so kaali (dark). Back then, no one knew about sunscreens or anti-tan face masks.
Though my mother questioned my father’s decision to let her pursue something with no “future,” he was a man ahead of his time — someone who believed girls should follow their heart, even if society did not look very kindly at it. Over time, however, as my sister was consistently dropped from matches, she began to sense that it was becoming difficult for him to continue supporting her financially. And when friends and relatives began to question the purpose of her efforts, she eventually stepped away.
Thank you, Harmanpreet Kaur and team, for this historic World Cup victory. Thank you for taking women’s cricket from an era of hardship and neglect to one of hope and recognition. Girls like my sister will no longer be forced to give up when the going gets tough — they’ll know it’s worth fighting for.