The Indian women’s cricket team has just won their first-ever ICC World Cup title.
Across India, the celebrations are everywhere, in living rooms, on rooftops, on the streets.
And then, the BCCI declared a Rs 51 crore reward.
People called it women’s cricket’s “1983 moment.”
Because 42 years ago, another Indian team had changed the country’s relationship with cricket forever.
But maybe, just maybe, this moment is bigger than any before it.
Not because it outshines 1983, but because it carries the weight of a fight far older, far deeper, than just one tournament.
For decades, women’s cricket in India survived quietly: unseen, unheard and left to fend for itself.
From 1972 to 2006, it was run not by the BCCI, but by a small determined body called the Women’s Cricket Association of India — the WCAI.
A small, struggling organisation with no money, no sponsors, and almost no support.
Players travelled in unreserved train compartments, carried their own kits, and slept on dormitory floors.
Former captain Shantha Rangaswamy recently recalled how they had to carry their own bedding.
They played for passion, not pay, and the WCAI survived on goodwill and borrowed money.
So even as we celebrate this win, we cannot ignore the harder truth — that women’s cricket in India has always fought two battles.
Once on the pitch, and once against the system itself.
While this World Cup has been a true sporting triumph, it also reveals the cracks that still run deep. Cracks that need to be fixed.
Because if the structures remain unequal and underfunded, this victory could fade,
remembered as a moment and not a movement.
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This world cup campaign was anything but perfect.
Three back to back losses in the league stage, endless trolling online, and a captain under fire.
And yet, these women turned it around — with grit, anger, and a quiet determination to be taken seriously.
It’s tempting to see this as a clean, redemptive fairytale. The underdogs who made history.
But this isn’t only about the sport. It’s about women reclaiming a space that has shaped India’s pride.
It’s about visibility, legitimacy, and power.
It’s like this photo Harmanpreet Kaur posted, the ICC World Cup trophy right beside her.
“Some dreams are shared by a billion people. That’s why cricket is EVERYONE’s game.”
Not gentlemen’s, but everyone’s.
For decades, women’s cricket in India was run by the Women’s Cricket Association of India — the WCAI.
Women like Shantha Rangaswamy, Diana Edulji, and Sandhya Agarwal built the foundations of a game the BCCI barely acknowledged.
But that changed in 2005–06, when the ICC mandated that men’s and women’s boards across the world to merge.
And that’s how women’s cricket came under the BCCI.
It was a turning point, but also a missed opportunity.
Veteran sports journalist Sharda Ugra points out, in countries like Australia, the merger sparked investment and professionalism.
But in India, it sparked indifference.
The BCCI controlled the purse strings, but women’s cricket stayed invisible.
It took almost 10 years for central contracts to arrive — not until 2015.
Only then did women cricketers finally begin to earn a steady income.
And in 2017, everything changed, the visibility boom finally arrived.
That year’s Women’s World Cup was a phenomenon.
For the first time, every match was broadcast live.
Millions watched Mithali Raj’s calm leadership and Harmanpreet’s 171 against Australia.
India lost the final by nine runs, but the country fell in love with the team.
Girls in small towns picked up bats. Parents started saying, “yeah, maybe she can play cricket.”
For the first time, the dream felt real.
In 2022, BCCI Secretary Jay Shah announced equal match fees for men and women.
It sounded revolutionary: Rs 15 lakh per Test, Rs 6 lakh per ODI, Rs 3 lakh per T20I.
But here’s the catch — women barely get to play. One Test a year, maybe. While the men play ten.
So yes, the pay per match is equal, but the annual earnings are nowhere close.
Top women like Harmanpreet Kaur or Smriti Mandhana earn Rs 50 lakh a year. Their male counterparts make Rs 7 crore. Fourteen times more.
And this gap runs deeper than just contracts.
Women’s cricket still operates on a fraction of a budget.
When the BCCI introduced central contracts for women in 2018, only ten players were on the list.
They were paid a combined Rs 3.8 crore that year.
The men, meanwhile, took home Rs 81 crore.
Seven years later, not much has changed.
In 2025–26, the BCCI plans to spend Rs 92 crore on men’s central contracts — and Rs 6 crore on women’s.
That’s barely 6% of what the men receive.
And this is despite the fact that the Women’s Premier League, the WPL, has become a goldmine.
Launched in 2023 with nearly $500 million in investment, it’s now the second-biggest cricket league in the world after the IPL.
As veteran journalist Sharda Ugra wrote, the WPL showed that women’s cricket frequency may operate via lower heating and decibel levels, but what comes through is in no way less authentic.
There was no aggression-for-show, no testosterone theatrics.
Just elegant, competitive, serious sport.
It wasn’t the women’s version of the men’s game.
It was cricket, full stop.
And the BCCI has already reported a surplus of over Rs 350 crore from it.
But instead of funnelling that money back into the women’s domestic structure, most of it stays unused or diverted.
For comparison: the board spends Rs 344 crore on men’s domestic cricket every year — and just Rs 96 crore on women’s.
As Times of India pointed out, the Ranji Trophy alone costs Rs 111 crore. Women’s cricket doesn’t even have an equivalent multi-day inter-state tournament.
Without long-format matches, players don’t build endurance, selectors can’t spot all-rounders, and coaches can’t identify future leaders.
Of course, it’s notable that the BCCI announced a cash prize of Rs 51 crore for the Indian women’s team after the victory.
And it was apparently more than what Australia received for the 2023 Men’s World Cup.
India’s men’s team received Rs 152 crore after the T20 World Cup in 2024 in the Americas.
Okay let’s say this is just a reward, and it’s up to the BCCI to decide on the amount.
But financial fairness is also about respect — about acknowledging that women cricketers aren’t doing anyone a favour by being here. That it isn't a side project.
Now, more numbers for you.
Back in 2017-18, the BCCI’s total spending on women’s international tours was just Rs 6 crore.
It was after the women proved themselves as world-class in the 2017 World Cup, that the budget jumped fourfold — to Rs 24 crore.
This year, it’s up to Rs 69.5 crore, with Rs 85 crore reserved for 2025–26.
That’s progress — but it’s still a sliver compared to the men’s game.
Despite all this, the spirit of Indian women’s cricket endures.
The foundation laid by women who played without pay or glory has finally borne fruit.
Shantha Rangaswamy said it best before the final — from travelling unreserved and sleeping on floors, to lifting the World Cup, “the proof of the pudding is in the eating.”
This victory will change things.
And maybe now, the BCCI will have to reckon with more than optics. More matches, fairer contracts, actual accountability.
Because when you draw 190 million viewers for a final, when stadiums fill up and sponsors line up — you’re not a “sunrise industry” anymore.
You’re the main event.
And this isn’t just about women being allowed into the game — it’s about changing who the game belongs to.
So maybe it’s time we stop calling it women’s cricket.
It’s cricket — as fierce, as skillful, and as Indian as it gets.
Only this time, it belongs to everyone.
It’s like this photo that went viral after the win.
A young boy running up a flight of stairs, wearing a jersey that reads Smriti 18.
No earth-shattering slogan or statement, just a child who now sees his hero in a woman cricketer.
That’s what this moment means.
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Produced by Bhuvan Malik, edited by Dharini Prabharan, script and research by Lakshmi Priya and Nidhi Suresh, Camera by Ajay R