'Cricket was her passion, Kohli was her hero': ‘I had her at 20; we grew up together,’ says distraught mother; ‘Maybe you’ll see Virat —that’s what her mom told her

BENGALURU: On Wednesday, Divyanshi dressed for school in a jiffy. Hair tied neatly and books in her bag, the 14-year-old was about to leave home when her mother, Ashwini, sprang a surprise.“Bunk school today,” Ashwini told Divyanshi. “Let’s go and see RCB’s victory celebrations. Maybe you’ll get to see Virat Kohli.” Divyanshi’s eyes lit up. Cricket was Divyanshi’s passion, and Kohli was her hero.Ashwini, her sister, and niece quickly left home, ignoring a warning from her father that they stay back as the crowd could be huge. That she refused to take her daughter to the funeral of Puneeth Rajkumar was playing on her mind.Not heeding that warning, though, proved a monumental mistake. Dimpu, as Divyanshi is called by friends and relatives, was among the 11 people who died in the stampede at M Chinnaswamy Stadium. “I should have listened to my father. I just wanted to give her something special. Now, I can’t forgive myself. She trusted me and I failed her,” Ashwini said.The trio was sitting on the pavement in front of the stadium’s main gate, soaking in the atmosphere when tragedy struck.

“We didn’t even want to go inside. She just wanted to catch a glimpse of Kohli,” Ashwini said, voice trembling, tears streaming down her cheeks.Around 3.30pm, the crowd swelled, unleashing chaos. “People began pushing and shoving. We got separated and I thought Divyanshi was with my sister. I injured my leg, and it was bleeding,” Ashwini said. “I was trying to help others who had fallen. But no one helped my child. I couldn’t reach my sister.

And then, my sister ran up to me and said, ‘I don’t have Dimpu. She’s not with me’. I knew then that something was horribly wrong.

She was gone in minutes. I thought she went inside the stadium, but then I saw her lying lifeless. My world ended there.”The previous night, Divyanshi was rooting for Royal Challengers Bengaluru. She finally slept at 12.30 am, smiling, cheerfully and full of joy.“She was my only child,” Ashwini whispered. “Obedient, bright, full of life. A swimming champion, a gold medallist loved by her teachers. We were more like friends. I had her when I was 20 — we grew up together.”Ashwini railed at the system. “Why was only one gate open? Is this how we treat our children, our fans? This isn’t gully cricket. Why weren’t proper arrangements made?” she asked.— Raksha Hosur Pradeep