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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.

The Thackeray Equation

The Congress dithers and the BJP calculates as the Thackeray cousins weigh their next move as civic polls loom.

Politics in Maharashtra has long been a study in timing - the art of knowing when to provoke, when to retreat, and when to deploy the nuisance value of allies and adversaries. For decades, the Congress excelled at this game. In Maharashtra, this mastery produced a delicate choreography with Balasaheb Thackeray’s Shiv Sena. Often derided as the Congress’s ‘B-team,’ or ‘Vasant Sena’ (the party benefited from then Chief Minister Vasantrao Naik’s strategic indulgence), Naik saw in the Sena a convenient counterweight to both leftist unions and the Congress’s internal rivals, ensuring access to the Brihanmumbai Municipal Corporation and securing localised zones of influence that suited both sides.


That arrangement unravelled in the late 1980s. The Bharatiya Janata Party’s ascent, coupled with the surge of the Ram Janmabhoomi movement, redrew political boundaries. The Sena seized its moment, partnering with the BJP to build a saffron citadel that would dominate the state for decades. Today, the BJP’s leadership demonstrates a similar sensitivity to political timing, particularly in its calibrated use of Raj Thackeray. His Maharashtra Navnirman Sena (MNS) is deployed as a tactical instrument - disruptive enough to unsettle opponents in urban pockets, yet not powerful enough to threaten the BJP’s core electorate.


By contrast, the Congress appears less nimble. Raj Thackeray could erode the BJP’s influence in several municipal wards, especially in Mumbai, Pune and Nashik. Yet the Congress shies away from engagement. Its discomfort was evident during the ‘Satyacha Morcha,’ where senior leaders stayed away for fear of antagonising North Indian voters - an opening the swiftly exploited by the BJP. The question now consuming the Maha Vikas Aghadi (MVA) is whether to bring the MNS into its fold, and whether hesitation could prove costlier than inclusion.


Civic elections sharpen these dilemmas. Margins are wafer-thin, loyalties hyperlocal, and organisational discipline matters more than rhetoric. Any friction within the opposition only strengthens the saffron combine.


High risk

The Congress’s reservations about MNS are both ideological and electoral. Raj Thackeray’s past attacks on North Indian migrants and his Marathi-first posture sit uneasily with the Congress’s minority support base. A formal partnership risks alienating Uttar Pradesh and Bihar-origin voters who remain crucial in several municipal segments. It also threatens the party’s national messaging at a moment when it is struggling to regain relevance in the Hindi heartland. State leaders may privately see the utility of MNS support, but the high command perceives reputational risk.


Even managing the ambitions of Shiv Sena (UBT), Congress and the NCP (Sharad Pawar) strains the alliance’s coordination committee; adding another personality-driven outfit would invite fresh complications. The most sensitive battlegrounds - Mumbai and Thane - are precisely where seat-sharing negotiations are already fraught.


Caught between these competing pressures is Uddhav Thackeray, whose political future is more entwined with alliance stability than ever before. The 2022 split that hollowed out his party made the Congress and NCP indispensable to his relevance, both in the Assembly and within the broader INDIA bloc. Breaking from the MVA to align formally with Raj Thackeray would damage Uddhav’s national stature, dilute his appeal among minorities who now see him as a moderate, and hand the BJP an easy victory by splintering the opposition.


Yet signs of a thaw between the Thackeray cousins are unmistakable. Their recent convergence on linguistic and cultural issues, and mutual criticism of the BJP-led state government, has fuelled speculation about informal coordination. If the Congress refuses a formal tie-up, Uddhav may still broker a quiet operational understanding in form of ward-level seat adjustments, joint protests on civic issues, or behind-the-scenes cooperation in neighbourhoods where MNS’s influence remains intact. Such an approach would allow the MVA to benefit from MNS vote transfers without forcing the Congress into an ideological corner.


Raj Thackeray, for his part, remains the mercurial constant in this political equation. His public posture emphasises independence. But the party faces shrinking cadre strength, financial constraints and the erosion of its once-potent urban Marathi appeal. What Raj seeks is neither subordination nor ideological compromise, but a formula that preserves autonomy while expanding electoral relevance.


As Maharashtra enters an intense electoral cycle, these shifting alliances and calibrated misunderstandings will shape outcomes in municipalities far more than ideological proclamations. The Congress’s anxieties, Uddhav’s balancing act and Raj’s strategic ambiguity form the opposition’s internal labyrinth. The BJP, meanwhile, waits with characteristic discipline for missteps it can convert into advantage.


In the end, Maharashtra’s politics still runs on timing. The next few months will reveal who grasps that lesson and who learns it too late.

 

(The writer is a political observer. Views personal.)


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