Tamil Members of Parliament with roots across the Palk Strait are often quick to look towards India at the drop of a hat. But last week, all they managed was a photo op with Indian Prime Minister Narendra Modi – smiles, handshakes and little else. In contrast, Sri Lanka’s 1996 World Cup-winning cricket team was granted a 45-minute chinwag over tea with the Indian leader. The Indian High Commission in Colombo had arranged the meeting. Not even former President Ranil Wickremesinghe, with all his so-called diplomatic finesse, has managed to get a similar audience.

Pictures of Modi rubbing shoulders with Sanath Jayasuriya and Aravinda de Silva went viral in India on social media and it was the talking point across news channels and print media as well. And why not? Not since the marauding days of Sir Vivian Richards have Indian bowlers been sent on a leather hunt quite like they were by these two Sri Lankan giants. It was déjà vu for Indian fans – memories of the Wills World Cup semi-final at Eden Gardens, still fresh like an old wound that refuses to heal.

During the meeting, Jayasuriya pitched an idea to the Indian PM – seeking help to build a cricket stadium in Jaffna. It wasn’t a doosra out of nowhere. There’s a deep and genuine passion for cricket in the north. Some of the school big matches in the region have stood the test of time, with legacies stretching back over a century. Yet, due to decades of conflict, the region has remained a barren patch in terms of producing top-tier cricketing talent.

Since the guns fell silent, though, there’s been a fresh crop of hopefuls from the north. Leading the charge is leg-spinner Vijayakanth Viyaskanth – a name that’s now turning heads. Though his First-Class stats are more than decent, Viyaskanth has chosen the glitz and glamour of franchise cricket, where the pay cheques are fatter and the schedule less grueling.

Behind the scenes, Sri Lanka Cricket’s (SLC) District and Provincial coaches have done a stellar job, scouting and grooming pace bowlers and other youngsters from these long-neglected areas. Some of these boys have gone on to wear the Under-19 jersey with pride – a sign that the talent pool is slowly, but surely, filling up.

However, SLC’s grand vision of building new stadiums to attract larger crowds has hit a few bumps. The old guard – some former greats – have been quick to swing the bat in criticism. They’ve taken their eye off the ball, failing to see the bigger picture. Take next year’s T20 World Cup, for instance. Co-hosted by Sri Lanka and India, it promises to be a blockbuster. The high-voltage India – Pakistan clash is set to take place in Colombo, with the R. Premadasa Stadium’s 35,000 seats expected to vanish like isso vade at the Galle Face green. A bigger venue – like the proposed facility in Homagama – would have been just the ticket to meet such mammoth demand.

But Sanath’s plea is in a different league altogether. He’s not asking for a behemoth like Eden Gardens or the Narendra Modi Stadium in Ahmedabad. His is a humble request – a ground with decent infrastructure and floodlights that can host day-night matches. A facility like that would be a game-changer for the north, a true shot in the arm. Nothing ignites a young cricketer’s imagination more than watching their heroes up close, not through a television screen but under the stars, in their own backyard.

At present, the closest international venue to Jaffna is in Dambulla—hardly accessible, especially for aspiring fans and players from the peninsula. A ground in Jaffna would not only bridge that distance but also build a bridge of hope and opportunity.

Back in 2002, when Janashakthi opened a branch in Jaffna, the great Muttiah Muralitharan made the long road trip to play a friendly match on a matting wicket. The welcome he received was nothing short of electric. The crowd adored him, showering him with affection that could rival the warmth of any southern stand.

Since then, we’ve hardly scratched the surface when it comes to understanding the region’s cricketing appetite. If the Indian government lends an ear to Sanath’s appeal, we might just discover a goldmine of talent waiting to be unearthed in the north. Who knows? The next Murali or Malinga might be bowling on a dusty street in Jaffna this very moment – waiting for a stage, a spotlight, and a bit of help from across the Palk Strait.

by Rex Clementine