A Shower of 127 Punishing 'Sikkas'
Samik Lahiri
THE night of November 2, witnessed the silent fracturing of patriarchy, hidden behind the victory of an iron-willed determination at DY Patil Stadium, Navi Mumbai. This was not just a final; it was the end of a half-century-long wait for Indian cricket, an epic night whose creators were our own daughters.
After a journey spanning 50 long years, wiping away the pain of twice returning from the doorstep of the final - Harmanpreet Kaur's India finally won their first World Cup. The 'Women in Blue' made history by defeating South Africa by 52 runs.
Was the night at DY Patil Stadium, Navi Mumbai, merely a cricket match? No, absolutely not. This was the history of breaking society’s age-old shackles. This victory was not just about winning a trophy; it was a milestone back to the mainstream called 'Cricket' from the ridicule called 'women's cricket'. Harmanpreet’s team, holding the World Cup aloft towards the sky, has made those who once said, 'Women's cricket is meaningless,' understand its true meaning. This was the chariot journey of a dream accumulated over ages, with Harmanpreet Kaur as its charioteer. After five decades of waiting, crossing the mournful river of two finals, the Indian women's team finally touched the 'Milky Way' of world conquest, a sky where the priests of patriarchy remain outcast.
An Invisible Barrier and a Silent War
When this Indian team stepped onto the field, they wore not just the national jersey but also the heavy, yet invisible, burden of social expectation. They are constantly compared to men's cricket - as if they are peripheral characters in the cricket narrative. At the slightest deviation in their game, the old patriarchal voice of society echoes - 'Women’s sport is merely an optional form of entertainment.' This victory is not just a defeat of South Africa, but a silent resistance against that patriarchal mind-set.
Two Finals, Different Definitions of Victory
In 2017, when the girls narrowly lost the final, there was sympathy, but it did not translate into a national celebration. Conversely, the slightest failure of the men's team casts a shadow of grief across the country. Carrying the weight of this disparity, every run and every wicket by Harmanpreet's team was a 'Loud Voice in Favour of Equality' as they stepped out to play.
Although the match started late due to rain, the Indian opening pair quickly compensated for the wait. The 23-year old Shafali Verma played a devastating innings (87 runs off 78 balls). Her 104-run opening partnership with Smriti Mandhana (45 runs) laid the foundation for India's massive total (298/7). Shafali’s 87 runs were like looking society straight in the eye and saying - 'We are not like men; we are like ourselves.' Each of Shafali’s shots was the elixir of life for the female foetus abandoned in the gutters of Jaipur or Azamgarh, and a loud expression of hate towards the killers. The mothers of Harmanpreet Kaur, Shafali Verma, and Pratika Rawal - daughters from Punjab and Haryana, regions infamous for female foeticide - must have thought, with glistening eyes watching their daughters conquer the world on the TV screen – "For this moment, I endured the ten-month trial; for this glory, I bore the pain. They are not just our pride—they are the living answer to every tear shed."
The pressure of losing a few quick wickets in the middle order was then handled by Deepti Sharma. Her composed innings of 58 under pressure not only took the scoreboard to a respectable position but also upheld the dignity of women. Richa Ghosh's stormy cameo (34 runs) brought India close to 300. Deepti Sharma's all-round performance proved that excellence is gender-neutral, it has no simile. Richa's fours and sixes that crossed the boundary were a message - the tears of the parents of Abhaya and Nirbhaya should similarly be hurled into the stands of society as protesting fireballs.
Not Tears, But the Reflection of Freedom
The clock has crossed midnight. Thirty crore eyes are sleepless, filled only with wonder. The battle of Wolvaardt was still ongoing, like the oath of a lone warrior. South African captain Laura Wolvaardt stood alone as the final sentinel in the opponent's fort. Her century (101) was the Proteas' war trumpet, fighting eye-to-eye with India. For a moment, it seemed India's dream crown might slip away due to her singular might.
Just when the game, like a wavering pendulum, swung between India and South Africa, the moment arrived. Wolvaardt's shot... the ball floats in the air... Amanjot Kaur runs and fails to catch it. Millions of hearts pause! But before the ball hits the ground, it is as if she scoops the crown of victory into her hands. Wolvaardt’s fight showed - Yes! Girls know how to fight too!
As the final wicket fell to Deepti Sharma's bowling, the DY Patil gallery turned into a 'Volcano of Joy'. Captain Harmanpreet Kaur, like the Goddess of Victory herself, threw her hands up into the air. Smriti's tears, Richa’s surging shouts - all were the 'tears of joy' that poured forth after years of pain and waiting, shining like diamonds.
This victory is not just the win of a single match. It is a tribute to all the hardships left behind by Mithali and Jhulan, and a 'Charter of Freedom' for every future Indian girl. When the celebration began after the last Proteas wicket fell, the joyous tears caught by the camera on Harmanpreet, Smriti, or Deepti were not solely the emotions of victory; they were the liberation of dreams oppressed through the ages. This was a 'Message of Freedom' for those women who are still afraid to step into sports or the professional world. The celebration in blue is a loud declaration before 140 crore people of the country: Yes, we can! All women can!
This World Cup win has given a new direction to crores of girls in the country - the path may be difficult, criticism may be intense, but if the willpower is as strong as steel, this society can be forced to run according to their rules.
These girls didn't demand the whole sky like patriarchy. That is why Jemimah Rodrigues jumped into her father's arms after the semi-final. Jemimah's 127-run tempest became the ultimate weapon. It was a monumental, shattering slap—a shower of 127 punishing 'sikkas' (coins)—hurled directly at the Brij Bhushan Sharan Singhs, an act of pure, visceral retribution for Vinesh Phogat and Sakshi Malik, and every silenced warrior.
They didn't demand the whole sky, which is why Harmanpreet's team lifted Sir Amol Muzumdar on their shoulders in celebration. This celebration was a fierce protest against the injustice done to their Sir. Kranti Gauda's balls, thrown at 120 kilometers per hour, were like missiles of rage against the rich-poor disparity and the injustice faced by her father. Deepti Sharma's spin not only finished the South African innings but was an insolent, challenging rejection of the heads of patriarchy.
Before lifting the trophy, as the Indian captain danced, parents of Tamanna (murdered by TMC goons), with tear-filled eyes, must have surely thought - if Tamanna were alive today, she would be drawing a new Alpana (decorative pattern) of victory with her dance across the courtyard.
