Indian mother waits 50 years to play sport

A nonexistent forehand, shaky movement, and reflexes trying to slow her down. But she stands there, as the sun hits a 25° angle. Just a few moments before the temperature rises, here’s a woman who’s about to defeat a storm. And quite effortlessly so.

I'm not talking about the impressive Sindhu's and Sabalenka's; they have my heart and respect. But I’m talking about the woman closer to home. The woman who sold a part of her wardrobe to ensure I could play football when the going got hard.

Countless memories flood back, and I recall her specific words: "I don't care about anything, but I want my children to be active." I didn't really appreciate that until it all dawned upon me. All of that love must have come from a desire to be a part of it, right?

From knowing the likes of Azharuddin to fighting with me during epic Federer vs. Nadal rallies, almost convincing me to support Nadal's power over Federer's elegance. From telling me tales of gully cricketers to reminiscing about a cover drive her elder brother played in the 70s, this woman carried a deep love for movement. And yet, none of that seemed to give back to her. She turned to the second-best thing: working out like a maniac. We're talking 110 KG lifts here; in our household, that's serious business.

But somehow, she couldn't play. At one point, society elders looked down on women in sport. At another, patriarchy played its role. Elsewhere, she took up raising kids as her hustle, and before we knew it, play left her doorstep.

It took efforts from trailblazers like Karnam Malleswari in the 2000 Olympics to even start getting comfortable with the idea of women on the podiums of major sporting events. The efforts of Sakshi, Sindhu, Deepa, Nehwal, and countless others consolidated that thought. Then Smriti and other great women sports stars finally hit it home. And hit what home, you may ask? Just the simple point: “Agar voh desh chala sakti hai, ghar bana sakti hai, toh khel toh apne baye hatoon se vo khelegi. Mauka to diya karo janab, beti hai - zaroor jeetegi.”

But hey, I've drawn the narrative a bit far out. Back to the protagonist. This morning, a good 50+ years since she took her first steps on Indian soil, my mother traded her kitchen lines in our hallway for the kitchen lines on the pickleball courts.

That is 50 years of a woman waiting to play a sport, any sport. That is 50 years of her watching patiently for the ball to come her way as the world passed her by. That is 50 years of absolute grit and belief in my favorite set of words: the silver lining.

So this morning, when mum took up the court, she defeated 50 years of backlog and won against the storm that took decades to build up. The forehand may need practice, and the vision will set in eventually. We at Sprentzo will continue to push her, just as she and countless other moms have pushed us to take up sport.