The frames from Sunday night were epic. India had just won the ICC Women's World Cup for the first time, and you could feel the electricity pulsing across the DY Patil stadium through the videos and photos that were pouring out of it. Everything about it was goosebump-inducing for the average Indian sports fan: the players racing on to the field to celebrate, Navi Mumbai standing as one to sing 'Maa tujhe salaam', the Indian captain doing the bhangra before lifting the Cup.
There was one frame, though, that stood out just a bit from the rest. It was a quiet moment amid the cacophony and joy, before the presentation ceremony. As the South African team waited, devastated, for the stage to be set up, the Indians walked up to commiserate and congratulate each one. That's when the camera panned to Radha Yadav and Jemimah Rodrigues tightly embracing Marizanne Kapp.
What family looks like ��❤️ pic.twitter.com/toTCTWdQDK
- Delhi Capitals (@DelhiCapitals) November 2, 2025
That picture, of the three Delhi Capitals teammates buried their faces in each other's shoulders, captured the essence of the win. In a world that's increasingly exclusionary, divided, ultra-competitive, there was a rare -- unique, even -- wholesomeness and generosity in India's win. The victory was scripted by the Indian team but shared with the wider community that has brought them this far. The pioneers, journalists, fans, celebs, even their opponents in the final: everyone was invited to be part of the celebrations.
It came out in the little moments as much as it did in the big. Like when Jemimah raced to the dressing room and raced back waving a bucket hat in tribute to a small, fervent, section of the DY Patil stadium who have had her and the team's back from day one. Or when the team collectively insisted that former players Anjum Chopra, Mithali Raj and Jhulan Goswami lift the trophy with their own hands. Or when Harmanpreet Kaur, the team's senior most member, jumped into her father's arms like she was 10 again and stayed there, him becoming as much a part of the celebration as she was. Or when Smriti Mandhana walked up to journalists who've been covering their game for ages and congratulated them. "Sabki victory hain", she said. "The victory is everyone's".
They needn't have done any of it, and that's why it's so special they did. That's why even seasoned journalists were in tears, why normally crusty political writers wrote from-the-heart social posts.
Jemimah Rodrigues - one of our own. Such a lovely gesture to go and bring back the bucket hat and to lift the cup in front of stand P. @buckethatcult #INDvSA pic.twitter.com/a01GRBTsWj
- The Reverse Sweep (@trspodcastt) November 3, 2025
Sporting wins are rarely this wholesome. Parochial pride takes centre stage, accompanied by chest thumping, one upmanship and a mix of harmless banter and, more likely, vicious trolling of the losing team/fans/club/country. The win is sometimes celebrated as much in jeering as in cheering so as to make the entire experience joyless and charmless. Scrolling through social media on Monday, it was delightful to see how people from across fields and age groups and other metrics just revelled, innocently and entirely, in the moment.
The match ended at 12.01 a.m., long past the hours most politicians and societal leaders deem 'safe' or 'appropriate' for women in this nation, but that didn't stop the celebrations in Navi Mumbai, or across many other cities as the telecasters so promptly showed. The sight of Indian women celebrating on the streets and in public places across India was as significant as the sight of them celebrating on the cricket field. The raw emotions of those expressing their joy on social media were not tempered by thoughts of 'what if' and 'is this right?'... it was pure happiness. Importantly, there was no mocking of the South Africans; it was all about "our girls" and the need to celebrate them.
What elevates it all is the fact that this team didn't have an easy ride; the trolling they've experienced through their whole careers (in some cases by the same fans who "cheered' them on Sunday) and even in this tournament could have derailed them at any point. It could have made them angry or bitter or grudging. That is how humans usually react. These players chose to rise above it all, using their moment of glory in a positive way -- making sure the spotlight now shining on them would reflect on everyone around them, including those they had just defeated.
For South Africa's is a pain that India understands, not just the agony of defeat at the biggest stage but the struggle of women in a field dominated completely by men -- one where the men hear the word 'Test cricket' and ask the women if lunch is ready. This is not a bond you can easily comprehend from the outside, but the fact that the players chose to lean on it, to emphasise it, spoke volumes.
To the average Indian sports observer, it's an amazing sight. So rarely have those responsible for a triumph as big as this been so keen to share the joy, the pride, the credit.
Tomorrow, the world will turn back on its axis, the politicians will be done with announcing their awards, even the trolls will crawl back from under whatever rock the sunlight banished them to. Maybe this will be the 1983 moment for women's cricket, maybe it won't. But one thing is clear, and cannot be taken away: For that brief, shining moment, India's women cricketers showed us that top-level sport could be a thing of joy, of togetherness, a party where everyone's invited. That's a win we can all build on.