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By:

Quaid Najmi

4 January 2025 at 3:26:24 pm

Cricket’s Quiet Crusader

Former kca Selection Chief who helped nurture a generation of women cricketers when the sport struggled for recognition Niketha Ramankutty A prominent figure in Indian women’s cricket, Niketha Ramankutty — former Chairperson of the Kerala Cricket Association (KCA) Women’s Selection Committee and Manager of the Kerala State women’s teams — has long championed the game, especially when women’s cricket had little platform in her home state. Her dedication helped nurture girls taking to cricket...

Cricket’s Quiet Crusader

Former kca Selection Chief who helped nurture a generation of women cricketers when the sport struggled for recognition Niketha Ramankutty A prominent figure in Indian women’s cricket, Niketha Ramankutty — former Chairperson of the Kerala Cricket Association (KCA) Women’s Selection Committee and Manager of the Kerala State women’s teams — has long championed the game, especially when women’s cricket had little platform in her home state. Her dedication helped nurture girls taking to cricket in Kerala. During her tenure, which ended recently, five players from the state went on to represent India, while three now feature in the Women’s Premier League (WPL). Niketha’s journey began in 1995 on modest grounds and rough pitches in the blazing sun of her native Thrissur. At the time, girls aspiring to play cricket often drew curious stares or disapproving glances. This was despite Kerala producing some of India’s finest female athletes, including P.T. Usha, Shiny Wilson, Anju Bobby George, K.M. Beenamol and Tintu Luka. “Those were the days when women’s cricket did not attract packed stadiums, prime-time television coverage, lucrative contracts or celebrity status. Thankfully, the BCCI has taken progressive steps, including equal pay for the senior women’s team and launching the WPL. These have brought greater visibility, professional avenues and financial security for women cricketers,” Niketha said during a chat with  The Perfect Voice  in Pune. With better infrastructure, stronger domestic competitions and greater junior-level exposure, she believes the future of women’s cricket in India is bright and encourages more girls to pursue the sport seriously. Humble Beginnings Niketha began playing informal matches in neighbourhood kalisthalams (playgrounds) and school competitions before realising cricket was her true calling. Coaches who noticed her composure encouraged her to pursue the game seriously. More than flamboyance, she brought reliability and quiet determination to the turf — qualities every captain values when a match hangs in the balance. These traits helped her rise through the ranks and become a key figure in Kerala’s women’s cricket structure. “She was like a gentle messiah for the players. During demanding moments, they could rely on her – whether to stabilise an innings or lift team spirit,” recalled a former colleague. Guiding Youngsters Her involvement came when women’s cricket in many states struggled even for basic facilities. Matches were rarely covered by the media, and limited travel or training arrangements often tested players’ patience. “As a mother of two daughters—Namradha, 18, and Nivedya, 14—I could understand the emotions of the young girls in the teams. Guiding players through difficult phases and helping them overcome failures gave me the greatest satisfaction,” she said. Niketha — an English Literature graduate with a master’s in Tourism Management — believes success in sport demands not only skill but also sacrifice. Strong parental support and encouragement from her husband, Vinoth Kumar, an engineer, helped her overcome many challenges. Never one to seek the spotlight, she let her performances speak for themselves, earning respect on the national circuit. Quiet Legacy Today, the landscape has changed dramatically. Young girls are more ambitious, parents more supportive, and cricket is seen as a viable career with opportunities in coaching, umpiring, team management, sports analysis and allied fields. Players like Niketha have quietly strengthened the sport. Their journeys show that some victories are not won under stadium floodlights, but by determined women who simply refused to stop playing.

A Flood of Debt and Despair

Marathwada’s unseasonal floods are colliding with Maharashtra’s fiscal overreach, leaving farmers of the normally parched region stranded between climate and populism.

In the usually parched fields of Marathwada, where drought has long been the farmer’s shadow, calamity has now arrived from the other direction. The last few weeks have seen unseasonal deluges battering the land, washing away homes, livestock and livelihoods. Continuous downpour in a normally arid region has rendered roads impassable as thousands of hectares of farmland lie flattened beneath sheets of water.


Authorities estimate that more than 30,000 hectares of standing crops have been destroyed in the past fortnight alone. Rescue teams slog through sodden hamlets in districts such as Beed, Dharashiv, Solapur and Latur, evacuating families and distributing what relief they can. By some counts, a dozen lives have already been lost.


The Devendra Fadnavis-led Mahayuti government has promised to “clear all the help before Diwali.” But reassurance is cheap. Farmers who have lost everything face a familiar bureaucratic gauntlet of damage assessments, verifications and panchnamas before aid can materialise. Behind the procedural fog lurks a harder question: even if the paperwork is done, can Maharashtra actually afford to deliver?


Debt burden

Once India’s economic powerhouse, Maharashtra now looks precariously leveraged. Its debt burden for 2025-26 is projected at Rs. 9.32 trillion – a figure larger than the GDP of some small countries. The debt is not new, but it has been swollen by populist welfare schemes designed as much to cement political loyalty as to alleviate poverty.


The flagship is the Mukhya Mantri Majhi Ladki Bahin Yojana, which promises a stipend of Rs. 1,500 per month to millions of women. The scheme consumed Rs. 33,433 crore in its first year and has been allocated Rs. 36,000 crore for 2025-26 - roughly 6 percent of the state’s revenue receipts. To keep it afloat, funds have allegedly been redirected from departments such as social justice and tribal welfare even though the government denies this.


The arithmetic is brutal. When a single programme devours such a share of revenue, little fiscal room remains for crisis response. Yet rolling back the scheme is politically suicidal as it has become a cornerstone of the ruling party’s electoral strategy.


The result is an excruciating paradox. As Marathwada drowns, the state’s finances teeter. Farmers must borrow to replant, yet moneylenders will demand repayment on the old loans. Welfare recipients, meanwhile, depend on their modest stipend for food, medicine and school fees. Some urban voices even suggest in whispers that Ladki Bahin beneficiaries might voluntarily surrender a month’s payment so the state can divert funds to relief.


On paper, the logic is seductive: if even 10 percent of recipients opted out, hundreds of crores could be freed. But in reality, the proposal is fraught as many women rely on that stipend for bare survival. Politically, it is even riskier as no government wants to be seen encouraging poor women to “give up” their benefits.


Reduce wastefulness

What, then are the options in front of the Maharashtra government? Firstly, the state must triage its finances. Schemes that are non-essential or wasteful should be paused. Large capital projects, particularly vanity infrastructure ventures, could be deferred and relief and reconstruction of the Marathwada region must take priority.


Second, the state must tap national coffers. The centre can provide supplementary aid, restructure debt, or accelerate loan waivers. In a federal system, Maharashtra should not shoulder this crisis alone. Third, local governance must be mobilised. Panchayats and gram sabhas can help identify the neediest families, oversee distribution, and reduce leakages. Relief disbursed through centralised bureaucracy often evaporates into middlemen. Community-level oversight offers better odds of fairness.


The welfare itself can be made flexible. In flood-hit districts, Ladki Bahin payments could be temporarily converted into food rations, medical support or cash-for-work programmes in reconstruction. The stipend would remain, but in a form more adaptive to disaster.


Finally, transparency is vital. Relief must be audited publicly, with citizen panels and media scrutiny. Maharashtra’s rural poor have endured decades of empty promises. Visible honesty is the only way to rebuild trust.


There is also a longer horizon. This is not the first time Marathwada has been devastated by weather, nor will it be the last. Climate variability is intensifying: prolonged droughts followed by sudden cloudbursts are becoming the new norm. Unless agriculture is made climate-resilient, relief efforts will always be palliative rather than preventative.


That means investing in watershed management, micro-irrigation, flood-resilient crops, and early warning systems. And it means shifting part of the rural economy away from rain-fed monocultures towards more diversified, less water-hungry livelihoods.


For now, however, farmers do not need lectures on climate adaptation. They need seeds, fodder, credit relief and roofs over their heads. They need a government that recognises the urgency of their plight rather than hiding behind procedural hurdles.


The government has promised that relief will reach before Diwali. For families staring at mud-soaked fields and destroyed homes, the festival of lights will otherwise feel like a cruel reminder of darkness. Whether that promise is kept will test not only the efficiency of Maharashtra’s administration but also the resilience of its politics.


Welfare schemes such as Ladki Bahin may have their place. But they cannot be allowed to swallow the state’s capacity to respond to disaster. Nor can they become a substitute for governance itself. In this hour, Maharashtra must act not merely as benefactor but as guardian.


Marathwada today is not just a story of floods. It is a parable of a state caught between the monsoon and the moneylender, between climate shocks and fiscal populism. Whether Maharashtra can navigate this storm will decide not only the fate of its farmers but also the credibility of the Mahayuti government.


(The writer is a communication professional. Views Personal.)

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