As India lifted their first World Cup trophy under a shower of golden confetti a week ago, cheered on by nearly 40,000 at the packed DY Patil Stadium in Navi Mumbai, the magnitude of their achievement began to reverberate across a country that had never before celebrated its women cricketers quite like this.
It is too soon to assess the impact of what happened last Sunday but the early signs are significant. The 2025 Women's World Cup final was streamed by 185 million viewers in India, and watched on TV by 92 million, equalling the corresponding viewership of India's victory in the 2024 Men's T20 World Cup final. If a fraction of that number is inspired to action, the impact could be enormous.
In Chennai, 85-year old Vijaya Subramanian, a cricket lover since she was 11, was in tears at midnight on November 3. "I have witnessed all sporting glories in my lifetime and I want to say this is just the beginning for women's cricket in India. My advice to all young parents would be not to differentiate between boys and girls. Times have changed, today's women stand shoulder to shoulder with men in the field. Having won the World Cup, times will get better, isn't it?"
In Bengaluru, five-year old Akshara picked up a plastic bat the next morning, mimicking Jemimah Rodrigues' sweeps, and her cousin Swara replayed clips of diving catches on loop. Akshara's mother, Shweta, called up a few academies the same day, only to be told to wait until her daughter turned seven.
In Mumbai, Vishal Yadav's phone hasn't stopped ringing. As the head of operations at Female Cricket Academy, he's received more than 200 calls in the days following the final from parents eager to enrol their daughters in coaching. "We even had a couple of husbands calling on behalf of their wives who wanted to learn cricket," he says. He had to explain to them that the academy focuses on age-group coaching. "We started in 2017 after the interest from that World Cup, but this is unprecedented."
Sunil Soni, a coach who has trained Mumbai Indians' Humaira Kazi, tells a similar story. He's been fielding calls from all age groups and is already planning an exclusive women's coaching batch.
In Kakinada, Andhra Pradesh, the win set off street celebrations. Videos emerged of impromptu screenings in the middle of the road, of people bursting into cheers and setting off fireworks as India won the title.
For decades, women's cricket in India had existed in the shadows, but something fundamental shifted in the nation's sporting consciousness as Harmanpreet Kaur and her team paraded the World Cup through a sea of cheering fans. From Bollywood stars, business leaders, former players and administrators to the person on the street, the sentiment was unmistakable: cricket no longer felt like a man's game; the women had come into their own.
The path to that night in Navi Mumbai was never easy. The players have grown up battling prejudice, were told to focus on their studies, mocked for their ambition, and reminded of the many obstacles in their paths. India is a country where countless girls drop out of sport at the onset of menstruation because of the social stigma, and where men, according to former India cricketer Shubhangi Kulkarni, once upon a time turned up to watch women play just to see if they wore skirts or pants.
Harmanpreet learned to play cricket with a hockey stick, alongside boys. Shafali Verma cut her hair short so she could train unnoticed in Rohtak. That they had to do these things was celebrated, rather than viewed for what those experiences were - a reflection of a widespread lack of opportunity for women.
Their victories were measured against men's milestones, their failures magnified. There were questions about their physical strength and, staggeringly, their commitment. In the early stages of this World Cup, after three straight losses to South Africa, Australia and England, the criticism turned ugly. Social media was rife with comments suggesting that players "belong in the kitchen", that equal pay with their male counterparts (the women, in fact, get equal match fees and not equivalent central contracts) was unjustified. Rather than questions over their tactics or execution of plans, the players faced scrutiny steeped in misogyny. When they faltered, even some in the media were quick to ask, "How can they lose despite being given everything?" For women cricketers, setbacks are often viewed as proof of indulgence, as though they must constantly justify the resources invested in them.
During the semi-final against Australia, a spectator posted a video on Instagram showing men at the stadium mocking Rodrigues for "being too thin". The videos of her that eventually went viral were of her iconic innings, which knocked out the defending champions in a record-breaking chase, but what if the result had been different?
Among those in the stands watching India win the final against South Africa was Sudha Shah, the former India player and head coach of the team that lost the 2005 final to Australia. Being there with her former team-mates Diana Edulji and Kulkarni, who were part of the team in the 1980s and 90s, left her emotional. Shah hoped the victory would help change mindsets across the country.
"I got a call from my friend's son and he was like, 'Aunty, I thought girls couldn't play, but after watching this, I know I'm wrong. This World Cup has changed my perspective. I was so impressed with the way they were diving and fielding and taking the catches, and their hitting.' And I was like, wow, that's what you want to hear."
For ages, cricket in India has had a certain masculine gatekeeping. Stadiums, commentary boxes, and living rooms during games were spaces where women were often made to feel like guests rather than participants, expected to justify their presence with their knowledge of the game. There is anecdotal evidence that this World Cup felt different.
"For the first time, there was no 'we've been watching this forever, who are you to come in and claim to follow this' energy," Kirti, a 31-year-old techie from Bengaluru, says. "In fact, watching men spout facts about the women's team was a positive, happy feeling as opposed to being made to feel unworthy of watching the sport."
Women's cricket has always existed on the fringes of the nation's imagination - acknowledged, but rarely celebrated at scale. That's why this win and its aftermath seem to portend deeper change, even in the perception that women's cricket is a less-interesting cousin of the real thing.
For girls living outside the big cities, the World Cup victory tells them their dreams don't have to shrink to fit their surroundings. Deepti Sharma bowled to her brother in the lanes of Agra. Renuka Singh honed her swing in Dharamsala. Kranti Gaud, from Chhindwara in Madhya Pradesh, grew up facing financial struggle and social resistance in a village that did not allow girls to play sport. Now, neighbours and relatives are flocking to her parents' home, feeding them sweets, celebrating their daughter's success.
This could challenge generations-deep chauvinism that positioned cricket as male territory or urban privilege. When parents in villages see players like Gaud and Renuka being celebrated on national television, it reframes possibilities.
This Women's World Cup also revealed aspects of professional sport that are rarely on display in the men's game. Rodrigues speaking openly about her anxiety, unafraid to express her vulnerability. The Indian players consoling the South Africans with long hugs after the final. Harmanpreet admitting she often cries in the dressing room. In a sport and society where toughness is often equated with silence and stoicism, such moments help normalise mental-health struggles, compassion, and emotional maturity.
Bias, however, doesn't vanish overnight no matter how bright the fireworks or how viral the social-media posts. The time for transformation in women's cricket is finally here; the question is how this momentum will be harnessed for growth.
"Winning is great, but then to remain on top is even more tough," Sudha Shah says. "BCCI have been having camps and they've got a lot of facilities. They should just continue doing it. There should be a lot more India A tours - I think we should start getting the second-string team prepared and continue this momentum."
Improvement at the top-level of women's cricket in India is perhaps more straightforward to sustain. The greater effort is needed at the grassroots, to keep the fire that has just been lit burning when the spotlight fades. They are not just "queens" or "India's daughters" when they win. They are professionals all year round, and role models for a generation that will hopefully not have to fight the battles for visibility and validation that Harmanpreet and her team-mates, and those who came before them, did.