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By:

Kiran D. Tare

21 August 2024 at 11:23:13 am

The Lady of Lord’s

Yastika Bhatia’s maiden Test century at Lord’s crowns the rise of an elegant wicketkeeper-batter who has quietly become indispensable to India’s new generation. Critics may say that there are flashier cricketers than Yastika Bhatia. She does not possess the raw power of a Smriti Mandhana or the aura of a Harmanpreet Kaur. She rarely dominates highlight reels or social media clips. Instead, she has built her reputation through reliability – a quality far more vital. At a time when white-ball...

The Lady of Lord’s

Yastika Bhatia’s maiden Test century at Lord’s crowns the rise of an elegant wicketkeeper-batter who has quietly become indispensable to India’s new generation. Critics may say that there are flashier cricketers than Yastika Bhatia. She does not possess the raw power of a Smriti Mandhana or the aura of a Harmanpreet Kaur. She rarely dominates highlight reels or social media clips. Instead, she has built her reputation through reliability – a quality far more vital. At a time when white-ball cricket prizes spectacle, the 24-year-old wicketkeeper-batter has become one of India’s finest practitioners of the understated virtues of timing, patience and composure. Bhatia’s 113 against England which powered the Indian women’s side to a historic win at Lord’s was not merely her maiden Test century but the first ever scored by a woman at cricket’s most celebrated venue. The innings helped India seal a comprehensive 270-run victory in the first women’s Test ever staged at Lord’s. Her hundred earned her a place on the Lord’s honours board, where generations of the game’s greatest names have been immortalised. Few entries have carried quite the same symbolism. Until now, no woman’s name had appeared there for a Test century because no women’s Test had ever been played at the ground. Bhatia’s career has mirrored the evolution of Indian women’s cricket itself. Born in Vadodara, she emerged through Gujarat’s domestic circuit at a time when opportunities for young women were expanding but remained far from abundant. A naturally gifted left-hander, she impressed selectors with a technique that appeared more classical than contemporary. Where modern batting often relies on innovation and improvisation, Bhatia’s game is rooted in balance. She plays late, favours placement over power and rarely appears rushed. Such attributes explain why coaches have long regarded her as especially suited to the demands of Test cricket, even though women are offered precious few opportunities to play the format. Modern wicketkeepers are expected to contribute almost as specialist batters while maintaining relentless concentration over long periods. Bhatia has embraced both responsibilities, becoming an important cog in an Indian side that has steadily shed its dependence on a handful of senior stars. That transformation has accelerated dramatically over the past year. India’s maiden Women’s ODI World Cup triumph marked a watershed for the sport, confirming that the country's women could finally translate promise into silverware. Although Bhatia missed that campaign after suffering an anterior cruciate ligament injury shortly before the tournament, her absence perhaps underscored her growing importance. Months of rehabilitation restored her confidence. If the World Cup represented the one that got away, Lord’s offered redemption. Returning to international cricket only recently, Bhatia produced an innings of remarkable maturity against England’s experienced attack. Her 113 came from 158 balls, balancing restraint with authority as India tightened their grip on the match. She admitted that six months earlier, while beginning rehabilitation, the idea of seeing her name on the Lord’s honours board would have seemed implausible. Those who know her were scarcely surprised. Former Indian wicketkeeper Kiran More, who has mentored Bhatia, has long spoken of her temperament rather than merely her talent. Scoring a century at Lord’s, he observed, is an ambition shared by virtually every cricketer. Achieving it after months away from the game simply reflected the resilience that had always underpinned her cricket. But hers was not a sentimental century assembled through fortune. It was a technically accomplished performance built on judgement outside off stump, crisp drives through the covers and the patience required by the longest format. It showcased precisely why Test cricket continues to matter. Unlike Twenty20, where brilliance can be compressed into a handful of overs, the five-day game rewards concentration accumulated over hours. For Indian women’s cricket, Bhatia’s century represents something larger than an individual milestone. It demonstrates the increasing depth of a side that is no longer defined solely by its biggest names. New heroes are emerging, backed by stronger domestic structures, better coaching and a professionalism unimaginable a decade ago. The honours board at Lord’s records statistics with characteristic restraint. It simply notes that Yastika Bhatia scored a century. Future generations may glance at the name without appreciating the path that led there. But Indian cricket will remember that the first woman to reach three figures at Lord’s was not merely making history. She was announcing that a new generation has arrived.

Love in the Age of Online Connection

Divya Iyer’s fluid writing style beautifully captures the emotional realities of digital-age relationships.


‘The Glitch in Our Stars’ by Divya Iyer explores modern love in its most familiar yet fragile form. A love born on screens, sustained by words, and tested by distance, silence, and the many truths we choose to curate online. In an age where relationships often begin with a notification and deepen through carefully chosen messages, this book feels both timely and deeply personal.


At the heart of the novel are Dil and Rusham, two individuals who meet through a simple online conversation that gradually evolves into something far more intimate. What begins as casual chatting soon turns into emotional dependence, shared vulnerabilities, and the quiet hope that connection can survive miles and time zones. Divya Iyer captures this progression with sensitivity, never rushing their bond, allowing it to grow organically, much like real-life long-distance relationships do.


One of the book’s strongest elements is its portrayal of emotional intimacy without physical presence. Dil and Rusham come to understand each other through late-night conversations, shared silences, and unspoken fears. Their connection highlights how love today often thrives on emotional availability rather than proximity. The distance between them is not merely geographical; it becomes a space where longing, trust, and uncertainty coexist. Iyer uses this distance effectively, turning it into a character of its own, one that constantly tests the strength of their relationship.


Equally compelling is the character of Dil, whose emotional journey anchors the narrative. Her vulnerabilities, doubts, and quiet strength make her deeply relatable. Through Dil, the book examines the internal conflicts that often accompany modern relationships. The fear of being misunderstood, the anxiety of not knowing the full truth, and the exhaustion of holding on while waiting for clarity. These emotions are portrayed with honesty, making her journey resonate with readers who have experienced similar uncertainties.


Rusham, on the other hand, represents both comfort and mystery. While he offers emotional security, there are layers to his character that unfold gradually. This sense of the unknown adds a subtle element of suspense to the narrative. The book does not rely on dramatic twists but instead builds tension through withheld truths and unanswered questions. It reflects how, in online relationships, intimacy can coexist with secrecy, and how knowing someone deeply does not always mean knowing everything about them.


The friendship between Dil and Kyra deserves special mention. In a story centred on romantic love, this friendship adds balance and realism. Kyra’s presence offers warmth, grounding, and moments of emotional relief. Their bond feels genuine and unforced, reminding readers of the importance of platonic relationships, especially when romantic connections become overwhelming. It is this friendship that often brings clarity to Dil’s emotional chaos, making the narrative more layered and human.


Another notable aspect of the book is its structure. Each chapter opens with a heartfelt quote, setting the emotional tone for what follows. These quotes act as gentle reflections, inviting readers into the emotional space of the chapter. They add a sense of belonging, as though the book is not just telling a story but also sharing thoughts that readers might have had themselves.


Iyer’s writing style is comforting and fluid. Her narration flows smoothly, making the book an easy yet immersive read. She excels at capturing small moments. A pause before a reply, a message left unread, the weight of words typed but never sent. These details bring authenticity to the story and reflect the emotional realities of digital-age relationships.


Thematically, The Glitch in Our Stars weaves together love, loss, hope, and self-discovery. It explores how relationships can be both healing and unsettling and how love can offer solace while also demanding emotional courage. The novel does not offer idealised romance; instead, it presents love as complex, imperfect, and deeply human.


By the end, the story leaves readers with a quiet sense of reflection rather than dramatic closure. Dil and Rusham’s journey lingers, not because it promises perfection, but because it feels real. Their story mirrors the experiences of many who have loved across screens and distances, holding on to connection in an uncertain world.


Overall, The Glitch in Our Stars is a touching and engaging read that captures the essence of modern love with sensitivity and depth. Divya Iyer’s storytelling invites readers to reflect on their own relationships, the truths they share, and the secrets they carry. It is a book that stays with you, offering comfort, introspection, and a reminder that even in a world full of glitches, connection remains deeply human.

  

(The writer is literary critic, book reviewer and columnist. Views personal.)


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