04/11/2025
Much of what I’ve done in the past decade since winning ESPNcricinfo’s cricket commentary contest in 2016 has been a mix of writing, journalism, documentary filmmaking, camera work, editing, media attaché duties, and broadcasting.
I moved from Kolkata to Mumbai in February 2017, when I joined ESPNcricinfo -- in the middle of my first and only season as a cricketer under the Cricket Association of Bengal. Four months later came my first India-player interviews as a multimedia journalist: Harmanpreet Kaur and Deepti Sharma, at the Mumbai Cricket Association Ground at Bandra Kurla Complex, just before India Women left for the 2017 World Cup in England.
Since then, my path has zigzagged across roles, including being the Media & Content Head for the Indian Olympic Association and Team India at Birmingham 2022 Commonwealth Games.
Through all of it, one constant has been the privilege (and, at times, the pain -- hah, more on that later) of observing and chronicling the Indian women’s cricket team. Each of their stories could fill many books -- of small towns, shared dreams, and impossible resilience. But for this one, I’ll stay with Harmanpreet, now India Women’s first World Cup-winning captain.
I’ve seen her lead, lose, rebuild, do all of that… but mostly LOSE. Birmingham 2022. Cape Town 2023. Sharjah 2024.
As a storyteller, I’ve been trained to stay objective, to keep a certain distance. And I have, in my work -- chronicling things as they are. But on Nov 3 at 2:15 am, a few hours after the Indian Women's Cricket Team won their maiden cricket World Cup, at the DY Patil Stadium in Navi Mumbai, a WhatsApp message arrived from a journalist-friend, Zenia D'Cunha, who had just attended Harman’s post-match presser. "Harman was looking for you," read her message.
I had no idea why.
What came my way soon after was this -- a piece of history, heavy with meaning. Something I’ve always believed only players, support staff, and families should hold. But who am I to reason with Harman on the biggest night of her life? Who am I to keep explaining that I don’t deserve to even touch it, out of respect?
So there I stood, unsure whether to smile or cry, knowing fully well that what I was holding wasn’t just metal, as Harman commanded the onlookers to take photos of the moment because I had refused to.
Bonkers.
That night, it was hers. The team's. The support staff's. And their families'. Always will be.
November 2-3, 2025, Navi Mumbai, India, IC Women's Cricket World Cup India 2025 Final, India v South Africa