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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.

Why India’s Anti-Coaching Push Misses the Mark

India’s war on coaching centres is being fought everywhere except where it matters most.

In June 2025, the Ministry of Education constituted a high-level committee to examine students’ growing dependence on coaching centres and to recommend measures to reduce it. The MoE’s order is unusually candid in its diagnosis. It acknowledges that Indian schools are not building critical thinking or analytical depth, that rote learning continues to dominate classrooms, that formative assessment remains weak, and that a narrow set of elite institutions exerts disproportionate pressure on students. This official recognition matters. What follows, however, reveals not a lack of insight but a reluctance to confront the problem at its roots.


A review of the committee’s suggestions reveals a familiar pattern. The system wants outcomes to change. But it wants to do it without altering the conditions under which schools and teachers operate. The diagnosis is structural; the response is tactical. Instead of strengthening the foundations of schooling, the recommendations attempt to manage symptoms through alignment, regulation, and additional layers of intervention.


Contradictions Galore

The first contradiction is between awareness and remediation. The MoE order itself asks the committee to assess students' and parents' awareness of multiple career pathways, implicitly acknowledging that fear, uncertainty, and narrow definitions of success drive families to coaching centres. Yet the proposed response is to introduce remedial and mentoring classes within schools to reduce reliance on coaching. This is a fundamental contradiction. If the problem is a lack of clarity, confidence, and judgment, adding more classes, especially exam-aligned ones, does not reduce dependence on coaching; it simply relocates coaching inside schools. The issue is not instructional hours. It is trust in the system’s ability to guide students beyond rank and recall.


A second fault line emerges between concern and design. It becomes pronounced when concerns about student well-being are placed alongside other recommendations. On the one hand, the committee proposes limiting coaching hours due to excessive academic load. On the other hand, it recommends tighter syllabus alignment between boards and competitive exams, time-bound assessments, increased exam frequency, and even earlier entrance testing, possibly as early as Grade 11. To invoke student well-being while engineering exam pressure earlier, deeper, and more relentlessly is not reform but rank hypocrisy. Far less than dismantling coaching, it formalises it.

The structural blind spot is when the recommendations view teachers as a small variable and not as core Infrastructure. The silence here is deafening. Teacher development appears mainly as a technical fix rather than as sustained professional formation. Yet the Ministry’s order itself identifies the core failure: schools are not building reasoning, conceptual understanding, or analytical depth. If that is the problem, the most obvious questions should have been unavoidable. Who is teaching? Under what workload? With how much preparation time? Under what accountability and incentive structures? Instead, the recommendations gravitate towards psychometric analysis, hybrid assessments, Professor of Practice models, national portals, and data pipelines. But none of this substitute for a well-prepared, well-supported, professionally respected teacher in a classroom.


More troubling still is the quiet assumption that teachers will absorb additional responsibilities like exam mentoring, remediation, career counselling without corresponding investment in time, training, or working conditions. The system reclaims the problem but refuses to carry its weight. Teachers are treated as elastic capacity, not as core infrastructure.


Structural Fault

The uncomfortable truth is that students do not turn to coaching centres because schools lack syllabi or examinations. They do so because teachers are overworked and under-supported, class sizes are unmanageable, teaching time is consumed by administrative compliance, career guidance is episodic rather than embedded, and trust in classrooms has steadily eroded. Until teaching becomes a viable, intellectually rewarding profession with protected time to teach, think, mentor and assess, coaching will remain a rational choice for anxious parents and students.


Regulating coaching centres by scrutinising advertisements, limiting hours, mandating disclosures, or policing dummy institutions treats coaching as a disease. It is not. Coaching has emerged because the formal education system cannot carry the weight placed on it.


This brings me to the issue that the committee avoided altogether. And they did it by making Coaching the subject of scrutiny; which now has become a convenient diversion. The flaw lies in the framing itself.


One would wonder, why this obsession with coaching and dummy centres at all? Coaching is not the failure of the system; it is the proof of it. Casting coaching as the problem spares the system from confronting its own structural inadequacies.


The real question was never how to regulate coaching centres, but why families feel compelled to outsource learning in the first place. Until the conversation shifts decisively towards strengthening education infrastructure towards classrooms that are trusted, teachers who are supported, and schools that can carry the weight placed on them, every attempt to curb coaching will remain cosmetic. The shadow will keep returning because the object casting it has been left untouched.


(The writer is a learning and development professional. Views personal.)

 


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