India vs Pakistan: Really a rivalry?

The latest India–Pakistan clash in the T20 World Cup was billed, as always, as the greatest rivalry in cricket. Broadcasters hyped it. Fans circled the date. Former players revisited old battles. Social media inflated the moment.

And yet, when the dust settled, one question lingered.

Is this still a rivalry, or are we clinging to nostalgia?

Because what unfolded was not a knife edge contest. It was not a see-saw thriller. It was not even a tactical chess match stretching into the final over.

It was control.
It was clarity.
It was India.

The myth of parity

Cricket rivalries are built on tension, on uncertainty, on the feeling that either side could win on any given day. That is what makes the Ashes legendary. That is what gives India–Australia its edge.

But India–Pakistan in ICC tournaments over the last decade has been something else entirely.

There have been moments, yes. Pakistan’s victory in the 2017 Champions Trophy final. Their T20 World Cup win in 2021. But moments do not make a rivalry.

Consistency does.

And consistency has been overwhelmingly one sided.

Perfect conditions, imperfect execution

If ever there was a stage set for Pakistan, this was it.

T20 format, their supposed comfort zone
Conditions suited to seam and disciplined bowling
A squad stacked with specialist T20 bowlers
A top order built for controlled chases

This was not alien territory. This was not a spinning dustbowl designed for Indian wrist spinners. This was not a flat belter tailor made for India’s power hitters.

This was their kind of cricket.

And yet, apart from the solitary early breakthrough, Abhishek’s dismissal in the opening over, the contest felt settled almost immediately.

India recalibrated.
India absorbed pressure.
India dictated tempo.

From that moment onward, it was India all the way.

Not chaos.
Not panic.
Not emotional overdrive.

Just structured dominance.

The Under19 World Cup incident

Then came the episode from the recent Under 19 World Cup.

Pakistan needed to defeat India in roughly 32 to 34 overs to boost their Net Run Rate and qualify for the final. It required risk. Aggression. Calculated boldness.

It required believing that progress sometimes demands danger.

Instead, they chose caution.

They opted not to chase qualification aggressively because in attempting that, they might have lost the match to India.

Pause there.

They were willing to sacrifice a realistic shot at the final, the ultimate goal, just to ensure they did not risk losing to India in the group stage.

And in the end they lost the match.
They lost the qualification opportunity.
They lost both.

That decision was not taken by teenagers alone. Under 19 cricketers do not set tournament strategy. They are guided, shaped, instructed.

Which makes the mindset even more telling.

It was not about maximizing tournament success.

It was about minimizing the possibility of defeat to India.

That is not strategic conservatism.
That is psychological captivity.

Win against India: At any cost

There is a difference between healthy rivalry and obsession.

Healthy rivalry sharpens you.
Obsession distorts you.

When the singular focus becomes do not lose to India rather than win the tournament, ambition shrinks.

That posture suggests a sporting mindset built more on antagonism than aspiration.

Sport at its highest level demands clarity of purpose.

India’s stated objective in every ICC tournament is simple. Win the trophy.

Beat Australia. Beat England. Beat South Africa. Beat Pakistan. Beat whoever stands in the way.

Pakistan’s posture too often appears narrower. Beat India.

One approach is expansive.
One is reactive.

Over time that difference compounds.

The latest instance

Strip away rhetoric and look at the cricket.

After the early wicket, India’s batting did not implode. It recalibrated.

Strike rotation improved.
Boundary options opened.
Risk was timed, not forced.

When India bowled, there was clarity of plan.

Hard lengths
Smart field placements
Pressure through discipline
No emotional overs

There was no visible desperation to win the rivalry. There was just execution.

That separates mature cricketing systems from emotionally driven ones.

Structural divergence

Over the last decade the divergence between the two systems has grown stark.

India’s model includes IPL driven exposure to global talent, deep bench strength, data backed strategy, investment in domestic pathways, professionalized fitness standards, and multi format specialists.

Pakistan’s struggles include administrative instability, frequent leadership churn, selection inconsistency, financial and structural constraints, and tactical rigidity.

One ecosystem builds redundancy and resilience.
The other lurches from crisis to crisis.

These differences show up clearly in high pressure tournaments.

The psychological divide

Elite sport is played twice, once on the field and once in the mind.

India approaches Pakistan matches as high stakes games but not existential ones.

Pakistan too often approaches them as emotional battlegrounds.

That difference manifests in shot selection under pressure, bowling changes under attack, fielding intensity after setbacks, and response to early wickets.

In the latest T20 encounter, India’s body language was calm.

Pakistan’s felt tight.

Tight teams rarely win championships.

Learning from wins, not just losses

Here is the deeper takeaway for India.

Complacency is a silent enemy.

Dominance over Pakistan cannot become the metric of satisfaction.

The benchmark is not bilateral superiority.
The benchmark is ICC trophies.

The bigger goal is continuous improvement and extracting lessons even from comfortable wins.

Did we optimize middle overs.
Did death bowling hit peak execution.
Did fielding maintain standards.

Excellence demands introspection even after victory.

That is how long term dominance is built.

Rivalry or History?

True rivalry requires both sides to threaten consistently.

Right now India’s real rivalries are elsewhere.

Australia in knockouts
England in white ball power hitting
New Zealand in tournament composure
South Africa in pace and athleticism

Pakistan remains capable of brilliance on their day, but brilliance without structure is volatility, not rivalry.

The cost of narrow vision

The Under 19 episode is more than a tactical misstep. It is symbolic.

When short term emotional validation overrides long term ambition, stagnation follows.

Choosing to secure a group stage win rather than pursue a final berth speaks volumes.

Elite sport demands boldness.

You risk to rise.

India’s cricketing evolution has increasingly embraced that philosophy.

Promoting young talent early
Backing aggressive strategies
Allowing players to fail and grow
Investing in long term systems

That is growth oriented thinking.

Anything less is self limitation.

Why the gap feels wider

It is not just skill.

It is infrastructure.
It is governance.
It is mindset.
It is clarity of ambition.

India plays to expand its ceiling.

Pakistan too often plays to defend its pride.

Pride without progress is hollow.

A word on humility

Dominance must never become arrogance.

India’s greatest strength today is not talent. It is composure.

Victories are celebrated.
Then attention shifts to the next challenge.

The objective is not to humiliate opponents.
The objective is to raise standards.

Remain ruthless in preparation.
Remain analytical in review.
Remain fearless in experimentation.
Remain humble in success.

Sport has a way of humbling those who grow complacent.

What true greatness demands

True cricketing greatness is not measured by beating one opponent.

It is measured by sustained excellence across formats, winning in varied conditions, producing generational talent, handling pressure repeatedly, and evolving tactically.

India is on that path, though not yet at its final destination.

Pakistan has raw ingredients, talent, flair, unpredictability, but must align ambition with structure.

The road ahead

For India.

Keep building bench strength.
Continue backing youth.
Prioritize ICC knockouts.
Innovate tactically.
Stay grounded.

For Pakistan.

Broaden ambition.
Reform structure.
Invest in clarity.
Shift from reactive to proactive cricket.

Rivalries thrive when both sides push each other upward.

Right now the push feels one directional.

Final thoughts

The latest T20 World Cup match did not diminish history. It clarified the present.

This was the best possible chance for Pakistan, format, conditions, squad composition, and yet the gap was evident.

The Under 19 decision revealed something deeper than tactics. It revealed a mindset choice.

India’s challenge is not Pakistan.

India’s challenge is sustained excellence.

Let the goal remain global supremacy, not regional dominance.

Let hunger stay alive even after comfortable wins.

Let humility accompany strength.

Let ambition remain expansive.

Because greatness is not about defeating a rival.

It is about transcending rivalry itself.

Jai Ho!

A tale of two January 19s

January 19 will always shimmer in Indian cricket’s memory. In Brisbane on January 19, 2021, a patched‑up India chased 328 to breach Australia’s 32‑year hold over the Gabba, sealing a 2–1 series that few had foreseen after the wreckage of Adelaide. Shubman Gill’s 91, Cheteshwar Pujara’s body‑blow‑absorbing 56, and Rishabh Pant’s nerveless 89* became instant folklore at the Gabba. The romance of that triumph grows when you remember that only a month earlier India had been reduced to 36 all out in Adelaide, their lowest Test total ever, before finding method and belief in Melbourne and Sydney. Five years later, the Gabba’s afterglow illuminates a more complicated portrait. India reached two World Test Championship finals and lost both, saw their once‑impregnable home record punctured across two successive seasons, and were beaten by New Zealand in a first‑ever bilateral ODI series in India. The arc from 2020–21 to 2026 is not a decline so much as a compression of extremes. It demands clear‑eyed diagnosis and a concrete roadmap.

I. A Short Timeline: From Adelaide’s Nadir to Brisbane’s Zenith

The 2020–21 Border–Gavaskar tour began with calamity, continued with resilience, and ended in audacity. Adelaide’s night Test produced a brutal punctuation mark at 36. Melbourne’s response was cool‑headed and methodical. Sydney’s resistance, complete with time‑killing stonewalling, provided oxygen. Brisbane was the breaker of locks and the maker of lore. Facing Cummins, Hazlewood, Starc, and Lyon on a fifth‑day surface, India went for the win when a draw would have sufficed. In the end, Gill reset the tone, Pujara absorbed a day’s worth of body blows to keep the innings on script, and Pant walked the tightrope between risk and control. For a squad strung together by necessity, it was a masterclass in clarity under pressure. The fact that Washington Sundar and T. Natarajan had begun that tour as net bowlers, then debuted and contributed across formats, remains one of the era’s most endearing origin stories.

II. Bookended by Two WTC Finals

Within two years of Brisbane, India contested two World Test Championship finals in England. Each offered a harsh lesson at the summit.

In 2021 at Southampton, New Zealand produced the more precise cricket in a weather‑disrupted final. Kyle Jamieson’s jag‑backers and the discipline of their seam attack kept India hemmed in. The chase of 139 on the reserve day was handled with rare calm. The final ledger read WTC Final 2021, New Zealand by eight wickets.

In 2023 at The Oval, Australia turned the contest in one devastating stand. Travis Head’s tempo‑shifting 163, allied with Steven Smith’s 121, established a scoreboard position India never truly dented. Bowling first, omitting R. Ashwin in helpful early conditions, and then watching the match evolve into a bat‑longer affair proved costly. The chase of 444 was ambitious; the reply of 234, more human. The scoreboard recorded WTC Final 2023, Australia by 209 runs.

Two different opponents, one common theme. Selection and tactical choices at this level require not only an accurate reading of overheads and grass tinge, but a five‑day view of how the pitch will age and how the opposition’s strongest threat will be neutralized across sessions.

III. The Home Fortress and Its Cracks

For the better part of a decade, India at home felt inevitable. Between 2013 and 2023, they did not lose a single home Test series. That aura changed in late 2024 when New Zealand authored a historic 3–0 sweep. India’s batting unravelled in decisive moments and New Zealand’s spin attack, with Ajaz Patel at the forefront, applied consistent, relentless pressure. The third Test in Mumbai crystallized the shift. Patel’s 6 for 57 ended a tense fourth‑innings chase, and the series was gone. A year later, in November 2025, South Africa returned to win 2–0. The margin of defeat in Guwahati, 408 runs, was India’s heaviest at home by runs. Simon Harmer’s 17 wickets across the series at a scarcely believable average reflected a broader truth. Visiting teams had stopped playing India’s spinners as visitors and started playing them as problem solvers, with premeditated plans and depth of methods.

The statistical bite here is sharp because it inverts the long trend. From 2000 through late 2024, India had lost only a handful of home Test series. Two more arrived within fourteen months. That dose of reality should not induce panic. It should provoke reforms in selection, preparation, and role clarity.

IV. New Zealand Again, and a First in ODIs

If 2024 was the year New Zealand scaled India’s red‑ball mountain in India, January 18, 2026 in Indore added a white‑ball first. The Black Caps clinched their maiden bilateral ODI series in India with a 41‑run win in the decider. Daryl Mitchell’s 137 and Glenn Phillips’ 106 powered a total of 337 for 8. Virat Kohli’s 124 was the final act of resistance, but India were bowled out for 296. Headlines noted the milestone: a first‑ever ODI series win in India for New Zealand. One layer beneath that statistic sat the real story. New Zealand controlled the middle overs with discipline and variety, built a 200‑plus partnership in the heart of the innings, and resisted the chase‑phase surge by forcing India to play to the longer side and fewer free hits. The series also doubled as a reminder that Indian cricket’s successes and stumbles are increasingly format‑agnostic. The same virtues and blind spots show up in white‑ball and red alike.

V. What Changed

1) Scheduling compression and red‑ball readiness

India flagged the WTC‑2023 preparation challenge themselves. A full IPL runs on a white‑ball calendar, packed with travel, and with little time for 10 to 12 over red‑ball spells at Dukes lengths. Red‑ball bridges are necessary. In other words, if you want to compete for a five‑day final against a team like Australia or New Zealand in early English summer, you must design labs that cross the short river from T20 loads to five‑day spells and Test batting rhythms.

2) Opposition adaptability at India’s table

New Zealand in 2024, then South Africa in 2025, did not just play spin better. They organized for it. Batting groups worked in pairs and trios, shots were shelved for sessions at a time, and bowlers attacked with control and strike options in tandem. Harmer’s series in India was the proof. Opposition spin attacks not only held, they won sessions. When that happens on Indian pitches, first‑innings control flips and batting under scoreboard pressure in the fourth innings magnifies risk.

3) Transition and identity in red‑ball batting

A full transition of India’s top six is a once‑in‑a‑generation affair, and the pivot is the No. 3 brief. Everything flows from there, including how No. 5 counter‑punches, how No. 6 balances risk, and what you demand of the all‑rounder at No. 7. The run of home defeats did not happen because one opener misfired or because a single youngster stalled. It happened because an engine that once turned first‑innings 310s into 410s began to cough. Re‑defining who absorbs 80 to 100 balls on days one and two is the first domino in a fresh red‑ball identity.

4) Fitness management and depth

The 2020–21 rebound in Australia was powered by depth. Net bowlers became match contributors, and a bench player turned into a series pivot at short notice. That is a system triumph. It also requires continuous replenishment and honest injury accounting. Even the January 2026 ODI series saw Washington Sundar withdraw with rib discomfort. Small withdrawals can have large ripple effects in short series. Redundancy in skill sets is not luxury in modern scheduling, it is necessity.

5) Tactical decision‑making in big matches

WTC finals and home deciders put selection under bright light. In 2021, the Jamieson match‑up went unneutralized. In 2023, the toss and selection gambit leaned into overheads more than five‑day evolution. Lessons learned here are not about blame. They are about process design. The most resilient teams pre‑decide their selection guardrails, model likely pitch trajectories, and then ask if their XI is too attached to the first session.

VI. A Ten‑Point Roadmap for 2026–2027

1) Build formal red‑ball bridges in the calendar

Institutionalize 10 to 14 day red‑ball mini‑camps before overseas red‑ball finals or major away series. Set bowling spell progressions to 6, 8, and 10 overs, mandate Dukes sessions where relevant, and run match‑scenario scrimmages. Align Duleep and Ranji high‑performance windows to serve as live feeders for Test squads, which India began dabbling with in 2024. The bridge from IPL load to Test load should be a well‑lit path, not a leap.

2) Two balanced XIs on paper for every venue

Default to three seamers and two spinners at home, with at least one all‑rounder. Move to a third spinner only where the third significantly out‑values your third seamer across five days. Protect selection from toss optimism. Make selection largely independent of overheads by anchoring to a five‑day pitch forecast. Bake opponent match‑ups into the selection matrix. If a Jamieson type or a Harmer type is the opponent’s leading edge, pick an XI that blunts that edge from lunch on day one to lunch on day five, not only in the first session.

3) Rebuild the No. 3 and middle‑order engine

Define the No. 3 role publicly. The brief is to absorb 80 to 120 balls when needed and to convert early seam movement into sapped energy for the opposition. Pair that with a counter‑punching No. 5 and a No. 6 who can switch from lane holding to lane changing mid‑session. Run India A tours that mimic England and South Africa in miniature, with Dukes balls, cut grass, and 45‑minute spells dedicated to leaving outside off.

4) Spin strategy 2.0

Separate the possession spinner from the disruptor. One controls tempo and keeps the game within reach, the other hunts with angles, pace changes, and release‑point shifts. Plan aggressively for left‑handers. Put leg‑trap, bat‑pad, and short mid‑wicket back into the default menu. Preload fields and ball‑by‑ball lanes for the first hour after lunch, which has been quietly expensive in recent home defeats.

5) Pace sustainability and specificity

Bumrah is the spear, but the armory must be varied. Build a bench where each quick has a distinct question, such as left‑arm angle, wobble seam at 135, reverse‑swing discipline, or a short‑ball spell for six overs that does not leak. Set a usage architecture that staggers Bumrah across cycles, with must‑play series identified in advance. This is not about resting stars. It is about maximizing availability for the series that move WTC points and the ones that build identity.

6) All‑rounder depth as insurance

Spin‑bowling all‑rounders who can average in the mid‑30s with the bat and give 25 to 30 overs across a Test are multipliers in low‑scoring home games. On subcontinental tracks where the first innings is 290 to 330, the difference between 7 for 170 and 7 for 220 often belongs to the No. 7 and No. 8.

7) Decision‑making under uncertainty

Create pre‑toss matrices for selection and bowling lengths. Lock in guardrails 24 hours out and empower a small red‑team whose sole job is to attack the consensus XI with venue data, opposition match‑ups, and pitch‑aging scenarios. When the toss happens, adjust tactics, not personnel. The most reliable way to avoid hindsight traps is to build better foresight rituals.

8) Pull white‑ball learnings back into red‑ball plans

New Zealand’s ODI win in 2026 was built on middle‑overs control and wicket‑taking bursts, not dot‑ball denial alone. Translate that to Tests. Make 30 to 60 run stand breaks a KPI for bowling groups. Practice over‑over plans that evolve every twelve balls, rather than fifteen overs of sameness. When a batting pair settles in at home, change the question, not only the field.

9) Leadership and communication in transition

With the board preferring a single all‑format head coach model, assign specialist lieutenants for red‑ball batting, bowling, and fielding who travel in focused six‑week blocks before and during key series. This preserves the one‑voice clarity while injecting depth and specificity. Keep role definitions crisp and selection messages candid. Transition sticks better when everyone knows the brief.

10) Make Brisbane a blueprint, not a myth

The 2021 Australia tour was not magic. It was system. That system looked like clarity of roles, comfort with debutants, decisive selection, and belief sustained over five days. Hard‑code that into the way India prepare for every major red‑ball assignment. The goal is not to re‑create a fairy tale. It is to make the extraordinary repeatable through process.

VII. Setting Expectations

The immediate task is not reputational repair. It is systems repair. The goals are measurable. Re‑establish first‑innings dominance at home by optimizing XI balance and session‑wise plans, targeting 350 plus in first innings more often than not while aiming to keep opponents under 275. Build a WTC final kit that includes selection guardrails, pre‑event red‑ball bridges, and war‑gamed opposition plans. Treat New Zealand’s 2026 ODI win as a live template for middle‑overs control and partnership disruption. Above all, enforce an internal discipline that keeps selection, preparation, and leadership aligned through cycles.

VIII. Closing Thoughts

The Gabba win lives in the bloodstream because it was audacity in the service of method. India do not need to get back to Brisbane. They need to institutionalize Brisbane. Set the bridges between T20 and Tests. Codify selection logic that is hard to spook. Develop the No. 3 brief with intent. Widen the all‑rounder pool. Vary the spin battery. Then keep one eye on the metric that has always mattered at home and away, across formats and eras. Control the first innings and the last session tends to look after itself.

Jai Ho!

Lessons from the testing times in Test cricket

For more than a decade, home Test cricket felt like India’s safest space. Touring teams dreaded the conditions, feared the spin, and rarely returned with anything more than consolation wins. But three specific series broke that aura. England in 2012, New Zealand in 2024, and South Africa in 2025 walked in, challenged India in familiar conditions, and walked out victorious. These were not random losses. They were warnings.

Let's take a detailed look at what made these defeats painful and what they reveal about the shifting foundations of India’s Test cricket.

Timeline & Key Stats: Major Home Test Series Defeats Since 2000

From 2012 up to the 2024 series, India went 12 years (4,331 days) without losing a home Test-series.

During that period, the team racked up 18 consecutive home-series wins - one of the longest home-dominance streaks in Test history. 

Across 89 home series in their history, India have lost only 18 series.

Recent Slide: Match-by-Match and Series-by-Series Warnings

• In just the last ~7 home Tests (2024–2025), India lost 5 matches. That’s stark - a frequency of home defeats not seen since 1959. 

• The 2025 home series against South Africa wasn’t just a loss — the 2nd Test ended by 408 runs, marking India’s biggest margin of defeat (by runs) in Test history. 

• That 0–2 sweep makes the 2025 series only the third time India have been whitewashed at home: the previous two being 2000 (SA) and 2024 (NZ). 

• Under current management (since 2024/25), India’s home record has been worrying: multiple series losses, frequent collapses, questionable spin-handling. 

What the numbers suggest

The fortress has turned porous. That 12-year run of home-series invincibility (2012–2024) disguised what was actually a fragile equilibrium. When challenged — by strong visitors, good seam/spin combos - India began to show cracks. The twin whitewashes (2024 & 2025) illustrate that this isn’t just bad luck - it’s structural.

The three heartbreaks that hurt the most

England in 2012

England ended India’s long home dominance with a 2–1 win. It was the first home series defeat since 2000 and it exposed India’s struggles against quality spin and disciplined batting in their own backyard.

New Zealand in 2024

This was not just a defeat. It was a 0–3 whitewash at home. New Zealand outplayed India tactically, mentally and technically. Their spinners dominated on surfaces meant to challenge visitors, and their batting showed patience that India failed to match.

South Africa in 2025

South Africa completed a 2–0 sweep and handed India their worst home defeat by runs, a loss by 408 runs. The loss felt even more alarming because it came immediately after the New Zealand whitewash. India had gone years without losing at home and suddenly they had lost two consecutive home Test series.

How rare is losing at home for India

India’s previous home series defeat before these setbacks came in 2012. Before 2012, it was 2000 against South Africa. That means from 2000 to 2024, India had lost only once at home in 24 years. For a team so dominant at home, these three defeats stand out as significant breaks in the pattern.

In that long period, India had an 18 series winning streak at home. That is why these more recent defeats feel heavier. They do not fit the story of who India have been at home for two decades.

The deeper concern is our diminishing ability to play spin

Once upon a time, India could claim that no team in the world understood or played spin better. In these three painful series, the opposite was true. Visiting sides not only matched India’s spinners but sometimes outperformed them. More troubling is that opposing batsmen handled Indian spin better than India’s batsmen handled theirs.

The technique, footwork and temperament needed to survive on turning tracks seem to have weakened. The confidence to sweep, defend, smother turn or play late is missing. India’s players look unsure in conditions they once commanded.

The back-to-back whitewashes show a dangerous pattern

Except for the small West Indies series in between, India have lost two home Test series almost consecutively. Both were heavy defeats and both were whitewashes. For a team that was nearly unbeatable at home, that trend is too drastic to ignore.

This is not just a blip. Patterns like this emerge when foundational issues begin to surface.

Rank turners are becoming counterproductive

India have tried to create turning tracks to play to their strengths. But rank turners help both sides equally. A pitch that behaves like a “spitting cobra” rewards whichever bowler can land the ball repeatedly on a nagging length. Visiting spinners like Ajaz Patel, Santner, Maharaj and Harmer did exactly that.

Instead of amplifying India’s strengths, extreme pitches have neutralised them. If India cannot bat long on spinning tracks and cannot outbowl opponents on those same pitches, then the advantage disappears.

Too much T20 cricket and too little grind

Modern Indian batting is heavily influenced by T20 and one-day cricket. Strike rotation, aggression and faster scoring are useful skills, but Test cricket demands something entirely different. It demands graft, discipline, resilience and the ability to bat long passages of play without any reward in the highlight reel.

India once had a lineage of batsmen who excelled in these qualities. Dravid, Laxman, Pujara and Rahane were specialists in attritional cricket. Without such profiles, India struggle to absorb pressure and build partnerships on tough days.

The bowling also reflects impatience and inconsistency

The bowlers face a similar issue. India’s attack has too often been either overly defensive to control runs or overly attacking in search of quick wickets. Test cricket requires a long game. Pressure builds slowly through consistent lines, lengths and repeatable plans. Once that pressure is established, wickets follow.

Both spinners and pacers need to rediscover the art of setting up a batter over multiple overs. The relentlessness that defined India’s great bowling units appears to be wavering.

What India must learn from these defeats

1. Respect home conditions by creating fair but challenging pitches rather than extreme surfaces that become lotteries.

2. Rebuild a strong Test batting core that values patience, technique and long innings.

3. Encourage bowlers to focus on discipline instead of short bursts of aggression or long spells of containment.

4. Prioritize red-ball cricket development across domestic structure and selection strategy.

5. Reinvest in the mental side of Test cricket where grinding out sessions is central to success.

Final word

The three series defeats against England in 2012, New Zealand in 2024 and South Africa in 2025 mark significant moments in India’s Test cricket story. They are painful not only because India rarely lose at home but because these losses reflect a weakening of skills that once defined Indian cricket.

If India want to restore their fortress, they will need to rebuild from the fundamentals. Technique, temperament, discipline and intelligent cricket must again become part of the team’s DNA. Test cricket rewards teams that respect its rhythms. For India, the time has come to rediscover those rhythms before the cracks widen further. 
Jai Ho!

Jai Ho: The triumph that redefined Indian Women’s Cricket and beyond

When the Indian women’s cricket team lifted the ODI World Cup trophy, it was not just the culmination of a campaign or the end of a tournament. It was the culmination of decades of hope, struggle, invisibility, and grit. It was a victory that rippled far beyond the boundary ropes, a statement that transcended the sport itself.

This was not merely about winning a trophy. It was about rewriting the narrative of what Indian women can achieve when given a fair chance. It was about proving that equality, confidence, and opportunity can create champions from anywhere.

This was, in every sense, a watershed moment for Indian women’s cricket, Indian women’s sport, and Indian womanhood itself.

The Rise Beyond the Odds

The story of this victory cannot be told without understanding where it began. For years, women’s cricket in India existed on the periphery. While men’s matches filled stadiums and dominated headlines, the women’s team often played to empty stands and muted applause. Sponsorship was scarce, media coverage even scarcer, and financial stability almost nonexistent.

But times changed, slowly and painfully. The introduction of the Women’s Premier League (WPL) helped spark new energy, giving young girls role models to look up to and a platform to dream bigger. Schools began forming women’s cricket teams. Parents started seeing cricket as a viable career for their daughters. The ecosystem was still imperfect, but it was evolving.

And then came this World Cup — a campaign that unified an entire nation, where every player brought their story, their struggle, and their fire to the field.

The Human Story Behind the Glory

Every champion team carries within it dozens of untold stories. This Indian team was no exception.

Take Amanjot Kaur, whose father was a carpenter. When she was denied a chance to play because she didn’t have a bat, her father stayed up all night to carve one for her out of wood. That homemade bat became a symbol of her determination. Years later, she would hold a different piece of wood in her hands — the World Cup trophy — as tears rolled down her face.

Then there was Shafali Verma, who had been dropped from the squad months before the tournament. Her journey seemed uncertain until fate intervened. When Pratika Rawal was ruled out before the semifinals due to injury, Shafali was recalled. She did not waste a moment. She grabbed the opportunity with both hands, played with freedom, and reminded everyone of her fearless brand of cricket.

Or consider coach Amol Muzumdar. Once one of India’s most prolific domestic batsmen, he never got the international call-up because he was unlucky enough to share an era with Sachin Tendulkar, Rahul Dravid, Sourav Ganguly, and VVS Laxman. Yet, destiny had a different plan for him. It took time, but life eventually found a way to honor his contribution to Indian cricket. He became a World Cup-winning coach, guiding a team that embodied the same discipline and hunger he had always stood for.

This was not just redemption for the players. It was also life paying its dues to those who kept faith in the dream.

The Team That Refused to Blink

Every Indian player played their role to perfection. Smriti Mandhana and Pratika Rawal provided the solid starts that built momentum. Harmanpreet Kaur led with the same intensity that has defined her career, backing her players even in moments of doubt and chipping in with key knocks when it mattered most.

Jemima Rodrigues produced one of the most defining innings of the tournament against Australia. Her calm, composed century was an exhibition of maturity. What made it even more special was her non-celebration. She did not raise her arms or roar in triumph. She just turned around and walked back to her crease, eyes focused on the finish line. It was the perfect picture of intent without distraction.

Deepti Sharma was the Yuvraj Singh of this team — an all-rounder who could turn matches single-handedly with either bat or ball. Her control, composure, and ability to deliver in pressure moments became a template for every aspiring cricketer.

Sree Charani emerged as the quiet assassin. Her left-arm spin was relentless, tight, and suffocating, choking opposition batters with her accuracy and control. She was India’s Jadeja, a symbol of consistency.

And then there was the pace battery — Kranti Goud and Renuka Thakur — two bowlers who redefined what Indian women’s fast bowling could look like. They bowled their hearts out, hit the right lengths, and never allowed the opposition to breathe easy. Their chemistry, control, and courage gave India the edge in every crunch phase.

Richa Ghosh, behind the stumps and in front of them, embodied modern cricket. Her glovework was neat, her presence electric, and her power hitting breathtaking. There were moments when her sixes evoked memories of Hardik Pandya’s fearless striking.

Together, this group did not just win matches. They redefined belief.

A Moment for Every Indian Woman

The image of the Indian women lifting the World Cup was more than a sporting moment. It was a cultural moment. Across cities, towns, and villages, young girls watching television saw something that had once felt impossible.

For years, Indian women have been told to compromise, to adjust, to lower their ambitions. This victory challenged all those narratives. It told every girl in every corner of India that the sky is open, that no achievement is beyond reach, that dreams are worth fighting for.

This is why this victory is not just about cricket. It is about self-belief. It is about representation. It is about a collective awakening.

When women succeed in fields that have been historically male-dominated, they do more than just break barriers. They reset norms. And that is what this team has done.

The image of Jhulan Goswami, Mithali Raj, and Anjum Chopra — the trailblazers — joining the players on stage to lift the trophy together was perhaps the most symbolic moment of all. It was a generational handover, a tribute to those who paved the road when no one was watching. It was the past, present, and future of Indian women’s cricket converging in one beautiful, tearful embrace.

The Equality Conversation: Not Charity, but Right

As the celebrations settle and the headlines fade, another conversation must continue. The conversation about equality.

Pay parity or better facilities for women cricketers should not be seen as charity or goodwill. These are not favors to be granted but rights to be recognized. These women have trained, sweated, bled, and performed just like their male counterparts. They have brought glory to the country, inspired millions, and proven that their stage is no less significant.

If equality is truly the goal, then recognition must follow merit, not gender. The idea is not to divide resources but to balance respect.

When we talk about pay parity or support, we must also talk about parity in opportunity. Equal access to coaching, infrastructure, exposure, and fitness programs must become the norm. Because equality begins long before salaries are signed — it begins when girls are given the same chance to dream.

Why Cricket Commands the Spotlight

There is an argument often made that cricket gets too much attention in India at the expense of other sports. It is true that our obsession with cricket can sometimes overshadow other disciplines. But this also stems from a simple truth — cricket has consistently produced world beaters.

Even when you look at individual sports, the reason we know names like Leander Paes, Viswanathan Anand, Neeraj Chopra, Abhinav Bindra, and Mary Kom is because they achieved the extraordinary. They made us believe they could beat anyone, anywhere, on their day.

And that belief, that confidence, is what draws crowds, attention, and investment.

The same logic applies within cricket itself. To be among the top 50 or 100 professional cricketers in India, one has to outshine lakhs of talented players. Out of crores who dream, only a handful survive the grind. The competition is ruthless, the pressure unrelenting, and the margin for error almost zero.

That is what makes success in Indian cricket, whether men’s or women’s, so special. It is not just about talent. It is about surviving an unforgiving system and still finding the strength to shine.

Why This Win Matters More Than We Realize

Every World Cup win leaves a legacy. But this one feels different. This one feels deeper.

It arrives at a time when India is seeing a cultural shift — where conversations about gender, opportunity, and equality are louder and more urgent than ever. This victory is the most powerful illustration of what happens when women are trusted, backed, and celebrated.

The Indian women’s team did not just play for a trophy. They played for validation. They played for every young girl who has been told “cricket is not for you.” They played for every parent who once feared their daughter’s dream would never be practical.

This triumph has the potential to reshape not just women’s cricket but the entire sporting ecosystem. Sponsors will now look at the women’s game with renewed seriousness. Young girls will now pick up bats, pads, and gloves not as a fantasy, but as a career. Schools and academies will invest more in nurturing female talent.

And the ripple effect will extend beyond sports. It will redefine how Indian society perceives ambition, discipline, and equality.

The Legacy of Coach Amol Muzumdar

Among the many stories this victory gave us, one that stands out is that of coach Amol Muzumdar. For years, he was the symbol of unfulfilled potential. A domestic cricket giant, he was destined for greatness but never got his international cap. Yet, life had a plan.

As head coach of this world-beating women’s team, Muzumdar has finally etched his name into cricketing immortality. He built a team culture rooted in trust, accountability, and freedom. He gave players space to express themselves, to play fearlessly, and to own their roles.

In many ways, Muzumdar’s redemption mirrors the story of this team — perseverance rewarded by destiny.

A New Chapter Begins

What happens next will define how deep this impact runs. The women’s team must be supported, celebrated, and sustained. Infrastructure must improve, domestic competitions must expand, and pathways for young talent must be strengthened.

We must ensure that this is not a one-off triumph, but the beginning of an era. The idea is not just to celebrate this World Cup win, but to make winning a habit.

The message must be clear to every girl holding a bat or a ball — the world is yours to conquer.

This victory must echo in every school ground, every training camp, every home that once hesitated to let a girl dream big. It must tell them that dreams are valid, talent is genderless, and glory belongs to those who believe and persevere.

The Indian women’s team has shown us what is possible. Now it is up to all of us — the fans, the administrators, the sponsors, and the society — to ensure that the next generation builds upon it.

Because this is not just a victory for Indian cricket. It is a victory for Indian womanhood, for equality, and for hope.

And as the tricolor fluttered high above the stadium that night, one could not help but feel that something profound had changed. The barriers had fallen, the limits had been redefined, and a new era had begun.

Jai Ho!