Jasprit Bumrah’s journalist neighbour recalls looking after cricketer as child

India ended a lengthy ICC trophy drought on Saturday with Jasprit Bumrah being declared the ‘Player of the Tournament’. The ICC T20 World Cup title win also prompted his neighbour and journalist Deepal Trivedi to share a heartwarming glimpse into his early life in Gujarat and the many hurdles Bumrah faced while growing up. The ace player took 15 wickets in eight games with an average of 8.26 and an economy rate of 4.17 during the recently concluded series.

Trivedi recalled meeting Jasprit Bumrah for the first time as a newborn baby in December 1993. Her best friend and next door neighbour — the cricketer’s mother Daljit — had compelled her to take a leave as she was expecting.

“I spent most of my day at a hospital in Paldi area that December in Ahmedabad. My friend Daljit’s husband Jasbir had stepped out a few minutes when when the nurse shouted our name and later put a baby in my shaky hands. That was my first time touching a new born baby. All I remember was the baby was lanky. He was trying to smile but he really didn’t The nurse said he was a boy. He was thin and weak. And the doctor soon took charge. My friend was v happy. I was already a god mother to her daughter Juhika,” Trivedi recalls.

The lengthy anecdote was shared on Twitter (now X) with the journalist admitting that her knowledge of the sport was essentially “zero”. She recalled watching a match at his mother’s insistence but walking off halfway as she could not understand the game.

“Sorry Jasprit,I didn’t watch the match but I love you! Maybe I will watch when (if) Angad plays football!” she added.

Trivedi — then in her 20s — recalled “starving, struggling, crying and fighting with life” as the two best friends cared for Bumrah and his sister over the next few years. She noted that his mother had worked for at least 16 to 18 hours a day as everyone sought to make ends meet.

“We as next door neighbors shared everything. I didn’t own a phone, fridge or even a bed! We shared a wall and her house was my haven. Sadly my friend’s husband passed away soon. Life changed. We were hopeless. That whole month, I handled the kids. Read to them. The boy was never interested and start playing with his cheap stupid plastic ball. I also sometimes, ate their biscuits because I was starving while babysitting.

“The boy’s struggles were the worst. We could hardly afford him a packet of Amul Dairy or any milk…I remember once I got some increment and i went to Westside, the most posh shop i then knew to buy a kurta. Jasprit was there, must be 8 years old with his mom, hiding behind her dupatta. He wanted a windcheater. That’s my only gift to him. I spent Diwali, Christmas and my birthday without a new kurta,” she recalled.

(With inputs from agencies)