Sometimes, a sporting moment just outgrows the scoreboard. Jemimah Rodrigues' unbeaten 127 against Australia in the World Cup semifinal was one such instance. It wasn't just about the runs; beyond that, it was about the faith and grit. She presented a graceful picture—a counter-witness in an era when Indian cricket had begun to resemble a party of boors.

Only days ago, the men's team had adeptly managed to turn a simple Asia Cup ceremony into a tantrum. Millionaire cricketers were sulking and refusing to shake hands or to take the trophy. Our PM praised them for it, comparing it to Operation Sindoor. It was the kind of behaviour that makes you wonder if fame now comes with a sense of national exemption.

Then came the 24-year-old Jemimah, standing under the floodlights, taking India to the final with a knock that spoke louder than any trophy ever could. She didn't punch the air or roar into the camera as the boys are wont to do. She just stood still, eyes wet, the words from Exodus on her lips: "Stand still, and God will fight for you." There was something disarming about that calm. No slogans, no chest-thumping. Just a small girl from a Mangalorean Christian family in Mumbai who believes that faith was a source of strength.

Her father, Ivan Rodrigues, is a club cricketer-turned-coach who has spent decades teaching girls' cricket, as he believes talent should not be dependent on gender. Her mother, Lavita, a nutritionist, quietly managed the home front and her daughter's growing dreams. Together, they built an ecosystem that helped Jemimah achieve her dreams. When the family moved from Bhandup to Bandra to help her train, it was a leap of faith.

That same faith was tested in fire last year when the Khar Gymkhana, one of Mumbai's most storied institutions, shamefully revoked her honorary membership over uncorroborated claims against her father. Ivan was baselessly accused of "conversion activities" utilising the gymkhana for the same.

The ever-outraged Hindutva commentators pounced on it like famished hyenas. They spun outlandish lies about "religious activities" and flooded social media with hate. A young star was reduced to her faith, her father was painted as a villain, and her family was trolled extensively for daring to be visible and successful Christians in public life. Clearly, someone had endeavoured to sabotage her.

What was interesting was that they didn't hit back. They didn't hire PR teams or go live on YouTube. They did something far more subversive. They waited, and they worked. And this week, Jemimah's bat delivered a peerless reply. Her century was a slap in the face to the Hindutva goons who tried to bring her down.

Jemimah's humility is a kind of rebellion against the "sporting heroes" of our country, who confuse arrogance with attitude. She demonstrated that belief can be beautiful, and that sometimes the best way to respond to hate is to play the perfect innings.

For those who tried to bring her down, her silence has now become a voiceless sermon.