It’s bright and sunny in Leeds — the kind of crisp English summer day that feels like a quiet nod from the weather gods, as if they too are ready for Test cricket. Not a drop of rain, not a breeze out of place. Just stillness, sky, and the sense of something momentous about to begin.**
The five-Test series between India and England is among the grandest stages in cricket. For fans back home, the noise is already deafening — WhatsApp groups buzzing, predictions flying, heated debates in full swing. But here in Leeds, it’s calm. Almost meditative. It doesn’t feel like a city on the brink of a high-voltage contest. And yet, beneath that calm lies a history that knows how to roar.
This town has seen it all. Nestled in West Yorkshire, Leeds once powered the Industrial Revolution with its mills and smoke. Today, it fuses that industrial past with old stone buildings, Victorian arcades, lively student cafés, and street music. It’s not the London you read about or the Manchester you chant for. It’s humbler, prouder — more intimate. The kind of town where cricket isn’t just a spectacle; it’s a rhythm.
I haven’t made it to the ground yet. For now, Headingley remains a name on my itinerary. But it’s a name that already carries weight. One of my earliest cricket memories is the 2002 Headingley Test — when Ganguly’s men didn’t just win, they made a statement. That match lives on vividly, like a bookmark in time. And now, two decades later, I find myself in the same town, ready to witness another chapter in Indian cricket unfold.
This series marks the beginning of India’s new World Test Championship cycle. But more than that, it may just be the dawn of the Shubman Gill era — elegant, composed, and full of promise. There’s a quiet shift in the air: a team slightly younger, a future a little clearer, and a narrative ready to be written.
Even the immigration officer at Birmingham airport could sense it. “So, you think India will win?” she asked, half-teasing, when I told her I was here to cover the series. “Yes,” I smiled. “Ah, don’t think so,” she shrugged. And just like that — the first ball of the series wasn’t bowled on the field, but in conversation.
Leeds hasn’t fully revealed itself to me yet. But I can feel it watching. Waiting. And when the cricket begins, I know the town will find its voice too.
