Afghanistan’s triumph against England at Delhi was an “I was there” moment every eye-witness will relive in the years to come, writes Abhishek Mukherjee.

The walk from the Delhi Gate metro is unlike what you see during the IPL matches. There are no counterfeit jerseys being sold on the pavement. The lone hawker selling chhole kulche – reasonably good ones – casts a forlorn figure.

The fans approach the stadium in a steady trickle, not as a crowd. There is a shirt with ‘Jos Buttler; written here and one with ‘Ben Stokes’ there. There are a couple of Afghan fans in characteristic blue.

Delhi, of course, was the last capital of British Raj in India. When the MCC toured India in 1926/27, Arthur Gilligan had advised the Indian dignitaries to set up their own cricket board. That meeting had happened at the Roshanara Club in Delhi, the first home of the BCCI.

Afghanistan, too, had their own tryst with the city. When they needed a home away from home for international cricket, the BCCI had offered them Greater Noida in the outskirts of this gargantuan metropolis. Off the field, the Afghan ties with Delhi run deeper than the Anglo-Indian ties.

It is not until you settle into your seat that you realise the ground is about thirty per cent full even about an hour before the toss for a match not featuring the hosts. True, it is a Sunday, but it is also expected to be a one-sided rout.

The cheers begin when Rahmanullah Gurbaz starts going berserk, particularly against Chris Woakes and Sam Curran. Across two editions, Afghanistan have won just one World Cup match, their 2015 triumph over Scotland.

So momentous was that occasion that fans back home had fired AK-47 rifles to celebrate, but Gurbaz has no memory of this. “I do not remember that match. I was not playing cricket then,” he admits to the reporters after the match.

He does not need to remember, for he was set to script history against a more formidable team from the British Isles – the world champions, no less – in his own way. His 57-ball 80 puts Afghanistan in front: despite their many attempts, England never catch up.

Of course, England have their moments. Ibrahim Zadran plays a quiet role in the opening stand of 114, but his dismissal kicks off a triple-wicket flurry. Gurbaz’s is the third of these dismissals – a horrible misunderstanding with his captain, Hashmatullah Shahidi, whose career record is instantly looked up by annoyed journalists.

Why neutral human beings tend to side with the underdogs is something better left to psychologists. Whatever the reason is, it applies to the mortals at the media centre despite the neutrality expected of their profession. Their Gurbaz-fuelled optimism gives way to resigned sighs.

The score reads 190-6 when Mohammad Nabi falls, but Delhi responds with a surprising roar, louder than anything else that is heard that night.

Everyone knows Rashid Khan here, or anywhere in the world where a cricket ball is hurled at. For some time now, Rashid has been the global face of Afghan sport, ahead of even Rohullah Nikpai, who has won both their Olympic medals. Chants of “Rashid, Rashid” welcome him as Mark Wood steams in. The decibels increase by manifold when he caresses his first ball to the cover boundary.

At the other end is Ikram Alikhil, who had shot into limelight with his 107 not out in the 2017 Under-19s Asia Cup final. Drafted into the 2019 World Cup side, he had struggled before redeeming himself with 86 against the West Indies.

Between the pandemic and August 2023, Alikhil had not played a single ODI, which seemed peculiar even amidst the woeful lack of ODIs for Afghanistan over the period. Here, in his first match of this World Cup, it was his 58 that pushed his team to 284.

“Not enough,” was the verdict in the media centre, and you could not help but agree. South Africa demolished World Cup records here. Sri Lanka had responded to them with panache. Afghanistan’s own 272-8 was overhauled by India with ease.

Afghanistan had played well, the pitch had assisted the spinners, but surely 285 was not going to be enough for the defending champions, a team stacked with all-rounders?

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It takes Fazalhaq Farooqi one ball to bring the crowd back into the game. They go up in unison with Rod Tucker, and cheer loudly when the giant screen confirmed ‘umpire’s call’.

But then, they also applaud Joe Root, a popular man in these parts of the world as one quarter of the Fab Four. In that, Root is a competitor of Virat Kohli, the city’s own son, but he gets a rousing reception when leg-glances the first ball to the ropes.

But even Root does not last: he plays Mujeeb Ur Rahman, whose right-arm unclassifiable spin Afghanistan often use inside the powerplay, down the wrong line.

The Afghan Cricket Federation was founded in Pakistan in the mid-1990s. By the early 2000s, they were playing as team in the Pakistan domestic cricket. Browse through the scorecards of the 2002/03 Cornelius Trophy, and you will see one Mohammad Nabi claiming a four-wicket haul against Okara, hitting a hundred against Rajanpur.

More than two decades later, the venerable Nabi is still one of Afghanistan’s finest cricketers. Here, he does not stop with the wicket of Dawid Malan but continues with the choke, as befitting of a man with an ODI economy rate of 4.3.

And now, as the drinks trolley rolls out, the floodlights go off and they switch on the lights in the stands. The fans respond with their mobile flashlights, and suddenly you realise that the oft-criticised Arun Jaitley Stadium has never looked as pretty.

You want to record a video – so what if it is from a mobile phone? – and share on social media. Or a photograph. Then you remember the many restrictions, so you simply do the outdated thing of letting the moment seep in.

The stadium has been at its best for the entirety of this World Cup. The eyesore tobacco banners have been replaced by bright, almost pretty ICC letters. For once, you accept even the oblique balcony of the Gautam Gambhir Stand, the relevance of which remains a mystery.

The Delhi venue is an easy, often rightful target, especially on social media. It features in some of the top entries when you Google with ‘worst cricket stadium in India’. During this World Cup, however, it has surprised everyone – both in attire and attendance.

The crowd gets animated as Naveen-ul-Haq runs in to bowl. After the IPL incident, The “Kohli, Kohli” chants were perhaps expected against India, but perhaps not as much after the two had an amicable on-field settlement.

Play is held up as well. The sight screen, perhaps. Whatever it is, Naveen does not look amused. He steams in, releases the ball from the corner of the crease, and zooms through the gaping passage between Jos Buttler’s bat and pad.

It does not silence the crowd, for the chants return every time Harry Brook dispatches Naveen to the fence, but even the play-safe media centre cannot remain sceptical anymore when Rashid takes out Liam Livingstone.

Five down, 168 to get. Surely Brook cannot pull this one off with the many all-rounders?

The all-rounders resist, first Curran, then Woakes, but not for long. The end is inevitable when Brook falls. Fittingly, it is Rashid who ends things when Wood’s violent, ambitious hoick does not connect. He arches his back in celebration, hands aloft, and for once you wish his roar could pierce the glass windows.

You have seen many Afghan cricketers celebrate before, but for separate franchises, seldom at international cricket, definitely not at the World Cup in eight and a half years. They do not scream or sprint but form a small group, then walk back for the post-match formalities.

They have created history, but it is still only a cricket match, a game of bat and ball. It is a significant moment, but perhaps not as much when put into perspective against the two earthquakes that had hit the nation since the World Cup began, let alone the history of the nation they play for.

As you wrap things up, you realise that you already have your “I was there” day of the World Cup.

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