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12 months on...

6 December 2021 – my first official day as a freelancer – was one that came with nervousness, excitement and relief. It was like a long exhale having held my breath for far too long. It was an adventure into the unknown. I was dreading it… but there was also a glimmer of hope.

What followed was a year of unending questions, doubts, crippling anxiety, fear and hopelessness intertwined with fleeting moments of excitement, relief, gratitude, inspiration and determination. There were the highs that came with covering a World Cup, working with some wonderful people (thanks for taking a chance on me), speaking to some of the world’s best, and a sense of freedom that came with going to another country, but the overwhelming feeling was one of doubt and being directionless.

Did I do the right thing? Am I any good at what I do? I am no longer useful. Will people forget me? How do I stay relevant? What if I fail? Maybe I’m just a fraud… I don’t know any of this. What skills do I even have? Yup, I’m definitely a fraud…

With every passing day of little to no work and every incoming rejection (however nicely wrapped), my mind grew louder. It didn’t help that all the changes in my life were happening together: the transition from player to ‘former’ player, from full-time employee to freelancer; I went from having a very structured existence where every hour of my day was planned (and had purpose), to suddenly feeling like Katy Perry’s plastic bag “drifting through the wind, wanting to start again”.

At the start, I tried to spend my time reflecting on the year gone by – my attempt at staying still. But that was way harder than I initially thought… I then tried to give in to my emotions, stop fighting them, and simply be, but when has an overactive mind been willing to sit through anything?

It helped in between that I travelled to another time zone – far away from the cricket and everything else…

***

Now’s the time for a bit of a backstory:

Cricket and I have had a strange relationship over the last few years… since 2016, as far as I can remember. Shortly after my best, most consistent season, I felt drained and was left with no motivation. I had played every game for Hyderabad, taken the new ball and bowled with the most control and variety I had in my career. I had made the South Zone squad and taken the new ball as well. I was the fittest I had ever been, the most aware and most confident ever. But as the season came to a close, I knew I no longer wanted to be there. I had gone from the person who spent every waking hour on the ground or watching/ talking cricket, to the one who wanted to leave before she got there, who needed space to breathe. I couldn’t keep up with it – my mind was exhausted, I needed I break. But how can you even think those things when you are so close to making a breakthrough? And, of course, I guilted myself into continuing; convinced myself it was a phase; got told off for talking about the way I felt and retreated into a shell, doing the only thing I knew best – training till I dropped, till I had no energy to function for the rest of the day, till my body had convinced my mind that I had done enough (which was usually far too much).

A few months on I got called up to an India A camp and things only got worse. I was ready physically – fit, aware, skills sharpened – but my mind was all over the place. Panic attacks and constant doubt are not good companions to have in a competitive high-performance environment. I tanked – in the camp, in the season. But somehow, I made the zonal team and had a wonderful time and a pretty decent tournament. I convinced myself the environment needed changing and hence went off to Sikkim where I had the two best years of my career. But numbers rarely make up for what’s going on in your head. The cricket was enjoyable, but everything around it was becoming too much. My numbers didn’t matter because “they came at the wrong level”… I knew I wasn’t making the step up, so what was the point? Maybe I should just walk away and accept that I am a failure. That I am not good enough.

Walking away from the game was hard, but I didn’t get the distance I needed at the time – working in the space doesn’t allow that, does it? That meant wounds festered and the scars never quite healed. But it also meant that I became very skilled at patching myself up… Surface level repairs are all you really need.

***

Hindsight is a wonderful thing. It brings so much clarity – something I have achieved a fair bit of in recent times. Until a few months ago, I always saw myself through the lens of failure. Never earned an India cap, never won a championship, always playing second fiddle to the superstars… A nobody. A forgotten footnote.

Now, I see things in a different light…

Maybe I never played international cricket, but I had an enjoyable run as a state cricketer – played alongside some of the most accomplished players in the country, made some wonderful friends, was part of one of the best teams in India and had my moments as well. Maybe I didn’t get where I wanted, but I got pretty darn close. So maybe I’m not as big a failure as I convinced myself I was?

Success, after all, is different for everyone. The problem is that we’re often told that being successful means reaching the top. Being the very best. Not YOUR very best, but THE very best. And so, we assume it looks the same for everyone. But it isn’t… Our journeys our different, so maybe our destinations are too?

***

More than 12 months since that day of dread, things have gotten better…

I started the year wondering where my Craig Cumming was. In the end, I found my Kass Naidoo: the woman who propped me up with her words of encouragement and nudged me to build myself back up again… It was through those conversations that I found myself again. She was the first piece in the puzzle.

(In case you are reading, thank you Kass – for everything. I know for a fact that I wouldn’t be here without you).

I started the year without direction or a *****y clue what I was doing with my life, but through conversations and little nudges from Karunya Keshav and Snehal Pradhan, I found a sense of purpose again.

I started the year with absolutely no motivation or understanding of where I fit in, but thanks to prods from Shikha Pandey – who herself was having a tough time – and the drive, commitment and resilience she has shown, I continued to put one foot in front of the other to “see where life would take (me)”.

I started the year wondering whether I should stay in the cricket space – my relationship with the game had suffered for far too long – but now, thanks to a group of teenagers, things are on the mend…

There’s nothing quite like watching age-group cricket – the sheer joy and innocence of those participating. The excited screams, the cries of anguish and despair, the flowing tears… All of it. The emotions are raw, unbridled. The players are so good, but they don’t yet know it. They are hungry and eager. They are ambitious. They are not yet consumed by doubt and poisoned by the pursuit of perfection… They reminded me of all the things I love about the game – the friendships, the competition, the thrill of a win, the celebrations and the adrenaline rush… But most of all, they reminded me of all the amazing people this game has introduced me to. I spent a couple of months watching some wonderful young athletes strut their stuff, and along the way, I truly found myself (and my love for the game) again. Along the way, I learnt to breathe.

… I know that’s not the final piece of the puzzle, and there’s plenty of distance to cover and healing to do, but as I sit here, writing this, readying myself for my fifth day of work at GoSports Foundation working as a Programme Lead for the Equal Hue Cricket Excellence Programme, that final day at Women’s CricZone – and all the things in between – feel so long ago. I feel a sense of relief wash over me, but this time, I feel at peace. I feel content and useful again. The doubts are still there, but the volume has decreased.

Of course, the psychoanalytical babble in my head is telling me I attach too much of my value/ self-worth on this thing called a job. Maybe that’s true. But for the first time in a long time, I finally feel like I can really make a difference… That I can have a positive impact on the lives of a few young players. That’s all I really ever wanted to do when I was playing. India was the ultimate dream, but around that, it was to try and have a positive influence on those around me and inspire them to be the best people and cricketers they can be.

Now, I have the opportunity to try and do that and it excites me more than ever…

To those who helped me get to this point (there are so many I have not named, and I apologise for that), thank you. Every little interaction (over coffee, chilly mango ice cream and otherwise) and word of encouragement has meant a lot to me.

A wise person recently told me, “It’s okay not to change the world in a day” – I think I’m finally beginning to understand that. I think I’m finally getting the hang of being still!



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