By_shalini oraon
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A Pilgrimage of Passion: The Cross-Country Road Trips Fueling India’s World Cup Dream
As the sun rises over the sprawling concrete canvas of New Delhi, the Mehta family’s SUV is already packed. It’s not loaded with picnic baskets and tourist guides for a typical holiday, but with flags, jerseys, and a singular, burning hope. Over a thousand kilometers away in Kolhapur, the Chavan family is performing a similar ritual, checking engine oil and tyre pressure before a long drive. Their destination is the same: the Navi Mumbai’s DY Patil Stadium, the hallowed ground where the Indian women’s cricket team will contest the World Cup final. This is more than a match; it is a pilgrimage, and the journey is as much a part of the story as the destination.
Ahead of the most significant day in the history of Indian women’s cricket, a quiet, determined migration is underway. It’s not via air-conditioned flights booked by corporate sponsors, but on the gritty, vibrant arteries of India’s highways. Families, often spanning three generations, are embarking on cross-country road trips, turning the final into a national moment of collective aspiration and shared experience.
The Journey of a Thousand Miles Begins with a Dream
For the Mehtas, the decision was made the moment Harmanpreet Kaur’s team sealed their place in the final. “We saw the semi-final win on TV, and my ten-year-old daughter, without a second’s hesitation, said, ‘We have to be there to cheer for them’,” recounts Arjun Mehta, a software engineer. “It wasn’t a request; it was a declaration. How could we say no? These women have taught her to dream bigger than her immediate surroundings.”
Their journey from Delhi to Mumbai is a microcosm of India itself—a tapestry of changing landscapes, roadside chai stops, and fervent cricket discussions. The car stereo alternates between old Kishore Kumar songs and podcasts analysing Shafali Verma’s explosive batting. The backseat is a whirl of colour as Mrs. Mehta and her daughter practice painting tricolors on their cheeks. “This isn’t just a road trip; it’s a moving celebration,” says Arjun. “Every toll plaza, every dhaba, we meet others like us—cars adorned with flags, all heading the same way. There’s an unspoken camaraderie, a shared sense of purpose.”
Faith, Family, and a Famous Victory
For families like the Chavans from Maharashtra, the journey is interwoven with tradition. Before hitting the highway, they make a stop at the famous Mahalaxmi Temple in Kolhapur. They aren’t praying for divine intervention for a win, but for the safety and strength of the players. “We seek the goddess’s blessings for our daughters to play without fear, to be strong in their minds and bodies,” explains Mr. Chavan, a schoolteacher. “This team has already won by inspiring millions. We are just going there to say thank you in person.”
This fusion of deep-rooted faith and modern, progressive aspiration is a powerful undercurrent. The image of a family visiting a centuries-old temple, the women in traditional nauvari sarees, before driving to a world-class stadium to cheer for women in sportswear, is a poignant snapshot of a nation in transition. It signifies that supporting the women’s team is not a rejection of tradition, but an evolution of it.
These pilgrimages are also acts of intergenerational bonding. Grandparents who remember the days when women’s cricket was a footnote are in the same car as grandchildren for whom Smriti Mandhana is a bigger star than any film hero. The conversations in these mobile sanctuaries are bridging gaps. A grandmother explains the nuances of swing bowling to her granddaughter, who in turn explains the significance of Jemimah Rodrigues’s fearless attitude.
“My father used to tell me stories of Kapil Dev lifting the World Cup in 1983,” says Priya Chavan, a college student. “It was a story I loved but could never truly feel. It was history. This… this is our story. We are driving to witness our history. When I have children, I will tell them I was there in the stadium when our women made us proud.”
“They Have Taught Us to Dream”
This phrase, echoed by every family on the road, is the emotional core of this movement. For decades, the dreams of young Indian girls were often carefully curated, bounded by societal expectations. The meteoric rise of this women’s cricket team has shattered those boundaries.
“They have taught us to dream,” says young Anika Mehta, her voice firm with conviction. “I see Harmanpreet didi’s power, I see Richa Ghosh didi’s fearlessness, and I know I can be powerful and fearless too, whether I want to be a cricketer, a doctor, or an engineer. They show us that being a girl is not a limitation.”
This is the real victory, long before a ball is bowled in the final. The triumph is in the transformed mindset, in the families who are investing not just money and time, but their collective emotional capital in the success of their daughters. The road trip is a physical manifestation of that investment—a deliberate, effort-filled act to bear witness to the dreams they have inspired.
As the day of the final dawns, the DY Patil Stadium will not just be a sporting venue. It will be a melting pot of these journeys. The Mehtas from the north and the Chavans from the west will take their seats, their flags unfurled, their voices hoarse from the long drive but ready to roar. They will be surrounded by thousands of others who have undertaken similar voyages of passion.
When the first ball is bowled, it will carry the weight of these collective hopes, prayers, and miles travelled. Win or lose, the image of these families on the road, visiting temples and hoping for a famous triumph, will endure. It is the story of a nation finally, and wholeheartedly, embarking on the journey to meet its daughters at the pinnacle of their achievement. The final is the destination, but the dream, as they have so powerfully demonstrated, is already alive and well on the open road.