Some names just have star quality. You hear them and it’s like there’s an aura around the person even before you’ve seen them. Their name sounds ‘big’, royal, even. Gouher Sultana is one such name.
“Gouher” means diamond or precious stone. Gouher Sultana?
The Queen of Diamonds, Diamond Queen… Take your pick. Either way, it’s pretty
darn regal, if you ask me.
Who is Gouher Sultana?
An Indian cricketer – left-arm spinner extraordinaire – with over 80
international caps and close to 100 wickets to her credit. A Hyderabad captain
with over 20 years of domestic cricket under her belt and around 550 wickets in
her kitty. A championship-winning maverick who’s carried many a team on her
shoulders. An incredible teammate, role model and mentor – arguably one of the
best going around. A disciplined, dedicated, hard-working, keen student of the
game whose drive has not once diminished over the last two decades. A
30-something-year-old with a great sense of humour, a hearty laugh, a generous
nature and a genuine affection for those around her.
In short, Gouher Sultana is a wonderful human and Indian cricket royalty. She
is close to being the best of both worlds…
Celebrating a legend!
**
16 Jan 2018: It was night – just past our curfew – but I needed to run out for one last thing before I got to bed ahead the game the next morning. I had been writing all evening – even shooed my roommate outside so I could get some peace and quiet in that matchbox of a room. I needed space to breathe, to think, to make sure I got it all on paper.
My roommate now lay in bed, staring at her phone, as I
headed towards the door to peek outside. The coast was clear. So, I ran
downstairs and rapidly knocked on the door of 201. Her 12-year-old roommate
opened the door with a quizzical look on her face. I shoved the note into her
hands and said, “Give it to Gouher akka,” before running back to my room.
Phew! No one saw me… And so, I got ready for one last
hurrah.
 |
| Gouher: a diamond named '5-rupee note'. (This was a keepsake from that 'last hurrah') |
**
The next morning, I was one of the first to board the bus.
For the first time in a long time, I felt a sense of freedom. As my teammates
filed in, I took photographs of each and every one of them as they took their
seats. Some of the photos were met with confused looks, others grinned widely
as soon as they saw a camera in their face.
When she walked in and made her way to seat no. 4, I felt a
lump in my throat. She caught my eye, smiled and nodded. As I had done with
everyone, I went up to her to take a photo. She smiled knowingly, posing with
her characteristic head tilt.
Only she knew why I was making this such a production:
photos, laughs, the works…
I think she knew even before I did – how much I was hating
it, how much I wanted to leave, how much I needed a break. She had tried, in
the midst of her own battles, to help me navigate mine, but we both knew there
was no turning back.
As the bus headed towards the ground, and I settled into my
seat well behind hers, my phone pinged: a long message from her… The last line
of which said, “If this is the last, let’s make it a memorable one!”
**
We lost. Convincingly. Another game that we could have been
in, but never were. Another game where we started promisingly and floundered in
the middle. Another game where you could sense the frustration in the camp: How
did it come to this? How did WE fall so far? This is not supposed to be how
Hyderabad plays!
As we shook hands with the opponents, shoulders slumped
after crashing out in the league stage for the second time in the season, I saw
her waiting at the back of the line for me. I walked towards her, my floppy
firmly pulled down, and extended my hand. She swatted it aside and pulled me in
for a hug, whispering “Well bowled, Anny! You were at your best today – that’s
what I’ll remember.”
“Thank you,” I croaked. “I’ll miss you.”
We were the last two to walk off the ground – arm in arm,
for one last time.
 |
| Playing our last game for Hyderabad together |
**
That day in January was supposed to be the last competitive
game I played. I knew I was done with that environment and everything that came
with it. But a little over a month and a half later, I was selected to
represent a South Zone team led by none other than Gouher, and truth
is, I had the time of my life. I realised that I didn’t detest the game, just
the environment I had been put in. Most of us felt it. But I had no energy to
fight anymore. So, I thought walking away was best.
Gouher though, had different ideas…
“You have more to give, Anny,” she’d tell me. “Kahin toh mil
jayega, khelne.”
And so, she helped me find an out: Sikkim! (But that’s not
the point of this).
In her own way, not only did Gouher push me to keep playing,
I think she gave me two of the absolute best years of my career – years in
which I learnt more about myself and my game than I ever thought possible;
years in which I ticked off milestones that I wasn’t even remotely considering;
years in which I built connections that helped me through the next few years;
and years in which I learnt (and accepted) that it was finally time to let go…
“Whatever you choose, I’ll be around to support you,” her
message came.
I’d asked her about it a few times. I had told her where my
head was at. When I thought I couldn’t go on, she pushed me with all she had…
It was like one of the many partnerships we had in the lower order for
Hyderabad. Me, wanting to give in to the tiredness and feeling of “this is
impossible” and her pushing me to keep fighting through… “One run at a time,
one shot at a time, one over at a time… Ho jayega… We’ll stick around… It will
get easier…” Somehow, she knew how to will you on… Somehow, she found the
strength to carry those around her… Somehow, she made everyone and everything
around her better… But more than anything, she made ME better – she made me
feel safe and protected and sometimes, invincible… In every way possible.
**
 |
| Gouher was there for most of my firsts - my first wicket, run, Challenger Trophy, India A, NCA camps - she saw every version of Ananya the cricketer, and always made sure to make her better. |
Through my entire career (and beyond), Gouher has continued to be the person I turn to for almost anything: advice, a random rant, to cry, to complain, to seek inspiration… ANYTHING. She’s been a constant in a world that has undergone unending change. She’s been the person who often knew what I was thinking or feeling well before I did. She was around when things got dark, and reminded me where to find the light switch.
Gouher was one of my first cricket friends. She was one of
the first people who embraced my “differences” (as much as she could) and let
me be. I remember quite clearly, the first time we met – it was during my first
inter-district tournament, an Under-16 event in Bhimavaram. I was unrolling my
pink sleeping bag adjacent to hers and had been at the receiving end of several
jokes already, so was trying to take up as little space as I could and melt
into a wall (but how can you with a sleeping bag that bright)? I was nervous
and felt out of my depth – away from home, in a new environment, one of the
youngest in the group, playing a sport I was only 6 months into understanding…
But Gouher came up to me, said “Nice blanket”, winked and walked off. She
stopped at the door and asked, “Coming for lunch?”
That was all the invitation I needed, really. Of course I
ran after her!
Since then, Gouher was both the senior I loved and feared
the most. Feared, because she was a bit of a disciplinarian and already such a
high achieving player, that I felt like I couldn’t let my guard down. Loved,
because, when it came to cricket, there were few like her. Not only would she
set the best examples in terms of work ethic, discipline and perseverance, but
she was always so open to having conversations and teaching people about the
game. She was one of the few who had the patience to answer my hundreds of
thousands of questions that came after every session or tournament. Sometimes
they were about her and her experiences, sometimes about other internationals,
sometimes about my own game and sometimes about tactics in general. We could
talk about cricket forever if time allowed. I wanted to know everything she
did, and she never seemed to mind sharing that information.
That was probably one of the qualities that always drew me
back to her – that she was so giving with information, with time, with energy
and effort. It meant, that despite being a “senior” she was always willing to
have a chat and invest in your growth if you showed a bit of interest.
In a country where every other person is seen as a
competitor, and we’re conditioned to believe that there is nowhere near enough
space for us all, that generosity was rare. It was what often set her apart
from most others. It is, what I believe, continues to make her one of the
biggest assets to any team she represents… It is also why she is one of the
most well-liked players on the circuit.
 |
| Gouher was a skipper who always had your back. |
**
26 Feb 2024: At 8.56 PM Gouher Sultana took her first step
on to the M Chinnaswamy Stadium as a member of the UP Warriorz playing XI. All
padded up, she sprinted in to join her left-arm spin partner Sophie Ecclestone,
after the fall of Deepti Sharma’s wicket. Ecclestone, towering over her, passed
on a few instructions as Gouher nodded matter-of-factly before glove punching
her partner. If there were nerves when she took her guard, they didn’t show.
She looked around the field, settled into her stance and pre-meditated a
reverse sweep. It was audacious. It was cheeky. It was typical Gouher… The
attempt to find something, ANYTHING, to help her team to a fighting total.
Up in the stands, I held my breath. I knew how much this
meant to her. As much as the win was for her and her family, it felt personal –
selfishly so. Close to a decade away from top flight cricket and she was
finally getting her moment. THIS right here was the moment of the tournament
for me. Years of toil were finally being rewarded. All the doubt, frustration,
anger, hopelessness, nerves, desperation and annoyance – at the world, at the
system, at the game and the people in it – could, at least momentarily, be set
aside. If anyone deserved a fairytale, it was her.
Despite wearing my Delhi Capitals jersey, and
enthusiastically celebrating opposition wickets until that point, all I wanted
was for GOUHER 31 to be her incredible self… To show the world the magic she
possessed… To remind herself that she is the real deal… To live out a part of
her dream, and my fairytale…
But sport is no fairytale, and the script rarely goes to
plan. It was a day of ‘what could have beens’ – had that catch not been
dropped, had that bottom edged hoick gone straight up rather than been carried
by the wind into the stands, had the one that turned past the outside edge
caused the batter to overbalance even slightly… There were glimpses of the
magic. But when has the world ever remembered the almosts? Forget the world,
when have WE allowed ourselves to remember those moments?
 |
| Gouher's WPL debut was a day of almosts, but what a day it was! (ESPN Cricinfo) |
Despite what the scorecards show and what the world thinks or says, for me Gouher’s WPL debut was evidence of everything that is good about sport and the league. On merit, the best players get a real shot. Age is not held against them. If your skill is good enough, and you are fit enough, nothing else should really matter. The WPL has somewhat levelled that playing field for women in India. The opportunity provided to Gouher was evidence of that.
**
Gouher’s career has been one with many, MANY highlights. She
has taken close to 550 wickets across formats, competed with and against some
of the greatest players in the world, was an important cog in India’s spin
bowling contingent in the late 2000s-early 2010s, won several domestic
championships, helped build and strengthen several domestic teams, and mentored
many young players along the way. In my eyes, hers will forever be a legacy
unparalleled. Because in a space that can often been overly selfish, often
toxic and downright difficult to survive in, Gouher has been a shining example
of what it means to be a good teammate, a strong leader and most importantly, a
good person. She’s the one who taught me that it’s important to always have an
eye on the bigger picture – we’re here for a short while and it’s imperative
that we try and leave the space in a better/ stronger/ healthier place.
For all those reasons, and a hundred thousand more, in my
eyes, she will always be the “gouher” we thought her to be. Truly Indian
cricket royalty.
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