Promise to prominence: India's-once-in-a-generation opportunity

On the outskirts of all-expanding Bengaluru, on a mundane Thursday afternoon, when a handful of cricket enthusiasts looked just behind their lunch cart, the cameraphones came out in a flash. A couple of brave ones climbed up a nearby tree angling for a clearer view, or at least a semi-decent frame. But all they likely managed to capture were the video analysts from the India and England women's teams, quietly setting up their gear. Thus began the earnest attempt to gain entry in the BCCI Centre of Excellence. "Tickets idheya?" was met with a firm, and rehearsed, no - the guards on duty instructed to turn spectators away for the closed-door World Cup warm-up games.

The CoE is a state-of-the-art 40-acre cricket facility tucked deep in Bengaluru's northern fringes, with a view of the glowing Kempegowda runway to its right serving ample distraction. For kilometres, the landscape is dominated by aerospace offices, including the headquarters of StarAir, the regional airline that chartered in the Indian and Australian teams from Delhi for their 2025 World Cup practice games in the city. By word of mouth, or texts, few more trickled in who were willing to skip the rest of their workday even if it meant lingering by the periphery of the complex. A brief spell of rain, and the quickly setting sun, eventually forced them back to their shelters.

That a group of strangers would stretch their lunch breaks, scale branches, and risk a telling-off from security guards on an unremarkable weekday says something. Not just about cricket, but about visibility, curiosity, and the slow shift in what - and who - the average Indian cricket fan is willing to show up for. They came without tickets, without certainty, and left without photos or autographs of their heroes. But they came.

And that, in many ways, is how change has always arrived in women's sport - quietly, persistently, and behind one locked gate at a time.

Much of this shift over the last decade can be traced back to another rainy Thursday. In Derby in 2017, Harmanpreet Kaur - with fire in her belly and pain in her back - took Australia apart in an fearless display of batting. That 171 is now etched into Indian cricketing folklore, but it was more than just an exceptional knock. The audacity of her strokeplay, and the sheer disbelief on the faces of the defending champions, spoke of all the overlooked talent and untold stories that had suddenly found a voice. And, a face.

The innings knocked down a door that had long been bolted shut. It just didn't just win a semifinal against odds, it shook a nation out of its indifference. For the first time in decades, the spotlight turned toward the women's team and, crucially, it stayed there.

Until then, women's cricket tournaments in India unfolded in near-silence - be it 2013 or even 2016 that was played concurrently with the men's. But Derby changed everything overnight.

Lord's that following Sunday was filled to the brim - many Indian expats among them. Three years later, a groundbreaking 86,174 of them gathered at the MCG which - like Australia's stacked trophy cabinet - is going to be the one to beat for the longest time to come. In 2023, Cape Town showed up too - the 'sold out' posters at every window of the Newlands box office testament to a passion reignited in the country. India weren't in that final, but just over a week later, a renaissance began in Mumbai when the fans came chasing "the cheapest tickets to AP Dhillon concert" but stayed for the run-fest with Harmanpreet at its epicenter yet again, although in a different shade of blue.

In the intervening years, the spark Harmanpreet lit grew into a blaze - carried forward in no small part by Smriti Mandhana. If Harmanpreet brought fire, Mandhana brought finesse. The elegant left-hander - a two-time ICC Cricketer of the Year Award winner - quickly became the most marketable face and a true symbol of excellence in women's sport.

While Harmanpreet dared young girls to elevate their game, Mandhana showed it can be a living and not just a hobby anymore. Together, the two became the torchbearers of a revolution in the country not just redefining expectations but also inspiring a whole new generation - some now teammates on the journey. Their performances were symbolic of the growing ambition within women's cricket in the country, but their influence penetrated much deeper.

From select televised games, the broadcasters were now inclined to cover every home bilateral, pushing for more top-tier venues to stage women's cricket. Prime-time slots were claimed, which meant more flood-lit games. Tours other than just those mandated by the ICC were now being worked into the calendars. As a direct consequence of this increased visibility, the interest of the global franchises spiked. Fanbase swelled manifold, and across the globe. More tangible reflection of this narrative shift was felt in 2022-23 when the contracts were hiked, followed by the introduction of equal-pay structure for international matches.

On the global stage, they drew attention not only to themselves but also to the broader potential of the Indian women's cricket ecosystem - one they were actively shaping and influencing. Voices grew stronger by the minute internally and globally, paving way for a full-fledged league to give cricketers a professional platform at home. The WPL made players rich, but it made women's cricket richer by plucking and nurturing untapped potential - some now World Cup bound.

Now, 2025 presents a once-in-a-generation opportunity to cement that progress in a home World Cup.

The possibility of Harmanpreet and Mandhana, as this era's leaders, lifting that trophy on home soil carries significance far beyond the silverware. It would be the ultimate culmination of a journey that began with part struggle and part trailblazing courage.

A win of that magnitude could mark a seismic shift from promise to prominence. It could propel investments in grassroots and domestic cricket, before a handful graduate to equal-pay at the highest level. It promises to strengthen the case for matching women's contractual fee which is still just a minuscule fraction of what their male counterparts earn. It could even justify access to nation's biggest venues currently reserved for men's event. More importantly, it would provide millions of young girls with something the previous generations never had: a moment of national glory they could see themselves in.

In many ways, Harmanpreet and Mandhana have already changed Indian cricket. But winning a home World Cup would be their legacy - a definitive stamp on history, not just for themselves but for every young girl picking up a bat or a ball, or simply daring to dream. Their story began in shadows; now, it stands poised under the brightest of lights, awaiting its crowning moment that can turn cricket into a truly gender-inclusive sport in the country.