One is a war veteran’s son who threatened to run away from home if his father didn’t buy him a kit and allow him to play cricket; another, in effect, did run away and started out in another city. A third sold pani puri off a cart, a fourth spoke delicately about how “things weren’t financially strong at home.” They are, respectively, Dhruv Jurel, Akash Deep, Yashasvi Jaiswal, and Sarfaraz Khan who played key roles in India’s victory against England.
There’s more. Aged five, Jurel had an accident that required plastic surgery. A decade later, his mother had to sell off her gold ornament to get him a kit bag. Deep lost his father and a brother in a span of six months and left home because he “didn’t have anything to lose.”
What is sport without stories of valour and spirit, heroism and gallantry? What is a turning pitch or a wrong leg before decision when compared to the days and months of despondency guided by nothing more than hope and a belief in ultimate redemption? What are the odds of finally making it in a country of over a billion people? How many Jaiswals and Jurels have fallen by the wayside because they lacked the guidance or the single-mindedness of these two, and their ability to hold on to their dreams?
