Pata hai hum match kahaan haare?

India has just lost the second Test match against South Africa in Guwahati. Considering that losing a Test at home was a rarity until about a year ago, the chatter in the media is unsurprising. Since October 2024, India’s overall Test record (home and away) reads 3 wins, 2 draws, and 7 losses!! At home, the numbers are even more alarming: 2 wins and 5 losses; and the two victories coming against West Indies—currently one of the weaker Test sides in world cricket.

(Infographic created through Gemini. Apologies for the typos; AI is still learning)

Naturally, fans are furious. Yet I doubt this frustration will endure. India continues to perform well in limited-overs cricket, which inevitably garners more attention, and memories of these Test losses will fade soon enough. Moreover, the next Test is scheduled for August 2026—far too distant for knee-jerk decisions, even though some fans are already calling for the removal of the head coach and the chief selector.

As someone who cherishes Test cricket far more than one-dayers or the T20 circus, I am frustrated too. But at the same time, I find myself strangely satisfied—almost deriving a grim sense of vindication. That is because I expected this. The current and former custodians of Indian cricket dismantled a functioning system and are now reaping the consequences.

There is a memorable moment in MS Dhoni: The Untold Story where Sushant Singh, portraying Dhoni, asks a friend after a loss: “Pata hai hum match kahaan haare?” (“Do you know where we lost the match?”). Indian cricket fans and the media could ask themselves the same question today.

We did not lose this match today. Nor did we lose it when the team was selected, when the schedule was crafted, when legends were nudged aside, when an arrogant and self-centered coach was appointed, or when the chief selector took charge. All of these factors did contribute but the real damage was done long before any of that.

There was a phase in Indian cricket when the bigshots of the BCCI were stripped of control due to multiple controversies. A Supreme Court–appointed committee—headed by Vinod Rai—was entrusted with running the board. During this period, Virat Kohli and coach Ravi Shastri enjoyed considerable autonomy, including significant influence over team selection. And they delivered. Under Kohli, India lost only two home Tests and held the No. 1 Test ranking for several consecutive years. Fans admired this era, but it generated insecurity among many others. In a sense, Kohli grew bigger than the BCCI itself—a situation the old guard resented deeply. Some former cricketers, especially those who have long been more political than sporting in their approach, also bristled. Even a few of Kohli’s peers were unsettled.

Thus began a calculated effort to cut Kohli down to size—or push him aside altogether—once the committee’s tenure ended. The BCCI leadership, heavily intertwined with political figures, did not want the public backlash of sidelining a star player themselves. They needed a former cricketer to front the operation. Saurav Ganguly, a successful captain and a transformative figure in Indian cricket, was cast in that role. As BCCI President, he was tasked with curtailing Kohli’s influence.....and he delivered.

Kohli was told to relinquish limited-overs captaincy in both ODIs and T20Is. While he was willing to step away from T20 leadership, he wished to retain the ODI captaincy—a request brushed aside under the pretext of avoiding split captaincy, a principle later abandoned without hesitation. The manner in which the episode unfolded, including leaks of sensitive information to the media, was unfortunate and ultimately pushed Kohli to resign as Test captain. Sunil Gavaskar even remarked, with a certain satisfaction, that Kohli’s resignation was inevitable as he would have been removed anyway!!! That is bizarre as Kohli remains the most successful Indian Test captain in history.

That is where the plot was lost—and, by extension, this match and series.

Since then, efforts to marginalize Kohli have been relentless. His personal dip in form did not help, but the institutional push was unmistakable. Gautam Gambhir was appointed head coach despite the well-known friction between him and Kohli. Gambhir has always deserved respect for his cricketing contributions and his support for the families of martyrs, but he is also a man of considerable ego. His on-field confrontations with Kohli are part of public memory, and the BCCI surely knew he would not hesitate to sideline Kohli. Once again, a player became a pawn in a larger power game.

Kohli retired from T20Is just before Gambhir took charge—though the decision’s true nature remains unclear. A few months ago, he retired from Test cricket as well. It still feels surreal that a modern great, who valued Test cricket above all formats, never even reached 10,000 Test runs—whether by choice or by design.

There is no doubt that Kohli ranks among India’s finest Test cricketers, even if Sachin Tendulkar, Rahul Dravid, and Sunil Gavaskar may stand ahead in class and achievement. But Kohli’s impact on Test cricket is unparalleled. Under his leadership, the Indian team was a fireball. Each ball, each over, each session, each innings was approached with 100% intensity, and the team gave it all. However, in the hunger to reclaim power and settle scores, BCCI has pulled down the brightest star. 

Test cricket, sadly, has become the collateral damage.

Mid-Life Crisis

When I was in my thirties, I’d often hear about this infamous ‘mid-life crisis’ that supposedly grips men like a sudden monsoon storm. The stories painted vivid pictures of otherwise rational men behaving ‘abnormally’—buying fancy motorbikes, setting off on unplanned adventures, or running marathons for reasons only they understood. I used to smugly think I’d be different. Rational. Immune.

Fast forward to today, I’m in my mid-forties, and so are my friends. And let me tell you, mid-life crisis is real. It’s here, and it’s hilarious. 

Let me introduce you to Exhibit A: my good friend Vikash Kumar Singh. (name not changed because... to hell with confidentiality).

Vikash and I go way back. I first met him on my very first day of college in 1997. Having just arrived straight from a cantonment, I was as lost and clueless as a freshman could be. My entire perception of college was based on what I'd seen in movies, and naturally, I was terrified of ragging. As luck would have it, the notice board announced that the start of the session had been postponed by couple of weeks. While relieved, I wanted to confirm this critical piece of information, but the question was—who to ask? The last thing I wanted was to mistakenly tap a senior and land myself in an impromptu ragging session. And then, I spotted him. A short guy, standing there intently reading the notice board. He looked harmless enough, and I figured even if he was a senior, he wouldn't be the ragging type. So, I tapped him on the shoulder and asked about the session. 

He turned around, and to my utter shock, the guy had a full-grown mustache! In my head, only professors and uncles had mustaches of that magnitude. He confirmed the news, and we got talking.

That was the beginning of a friendship that would see us through college as classmates, MBA as batchmates and flatmates, a stint at one of the Big 4s as colleagues, and of course, countless drinking sessions over the years. Vikash has always been the kind of guy who’d say yes to a drink, no matter the time, place, or occasion.

Now, out of nowhere, Vikash Kumar Singh has suddenly become a marathon runner!! Yes, he still says yes to drinks and is still the eternal 'Cheers' guy but now he has become the guy who’d rather run 10 kilometers than a whole night drinking session. A recently saw him saying no to a chilled beer on a Sunday afternoon. If that is not mid-life crisis, do not know what is!!!

The second example? Yours truly. But hey, I’m still in the planning stage and haven’t started doing anything too crazy—yet. I recently turned 45, and a few of my resolutions for this year include (a) no alcohol in 2025 and (b) at least one weekend holiday each month! We haven’t even crossed the first month of the year, and we’ve already done a weekend stay at a resort. Next week, I’ll be driving down to a small town 200 kilometers away for a weekend trip with… Vikash Kumar Singh! Next month, I’m heading to my hometown for a longer break. And at the end of that month, I’ve planned a weekend trip to a tourist attraction about 450 kilometers away. For the following month (i.e., March), I am already planning a trip to a hill station. So far, these are only plans but as I said, I’m still in the early stages of this mid-life crisis disease!

The third example is a little complicated. I used to know this person quite well. My observation is that he has always been fascinated by the relationships others have, and somewhere deep down, he feels he has never truly experienced that. He carries a fairytale-like image of relationships and love—one that, unfortunately, doesn’t align with reality. The truth is, there is no such thing as a perfect relationship. Every couple has their own set of challenges—some work through them, while others part ways.

Lately, this person, now in his late forties, has been convincing himself and those around him that he has never had a meaningful relationship. He genuinely believes it. And suddenly, he has embarked on a desperate search for new relationships. This, too, is a common symptom of mid-life crisis, but in his case, it’s manifesting in a more concerning way. He is losing his sense of identity, the respect of those around him, and, perhaps most worryingly, his own self-respect. I no longer know him well, but I sincerely hope he finds his way back. His support system has been doing their best, but so far, without much success. I just hope his mid-life crisis doesn’t turn into a long-term crisis.

That’s mid-life crisis for you. It doesn’t knock. It barges in, rearranges your priorities, and makes you do things you never thought you would. While most choose harmless hobbies/passions like bikes or trips, some choose the path of sheer stupidity.