Dubai cricketer Charvi Bhatt on India-Pakistani Asia Cup clash, aggression and smashing stereotypes

Dubai: “You’ll be surprised. The aggression in women’s sport is sometimes a lot more than men’s,” declares Charvi Bhatt, former captain of the UAE women’s cricket team during an interview at the Gulf News Headquarters.

“Men are easy — they’ll shake hands, say ‘it’s alright, bro’ and move on. Women? If we don’t like you, we don’t like you. We’ll turn the other way.”

There it is — the line that shatters stereotypes.

Bhatt doesn’t hide behind diplomacy. She’s cheeky, fiery, and utterly unafraid of calling things as she sees them. Women, she says, don’t just play the game, they feel it — and sometimes that means grudges are kept like pets, fed and nurtured until the sting of defeat finally fades.

Earlier this week, Bhatt had a front-row seat — or rather, a mic — at the South Asia Cup 2025, where she called the action at one of the tournament’s most high-voltage matches: India vs Pakistan.

“Sport can unite,” she told me, still buzzing from the commentary box. “There were a lot of emotions, a gamut of emotions. Fans braved the boiling heat, flags in hand, because they love their sporting stars. That’s the beauty of sport — it’s never just strategy, it’s all sweat, heart, and a little madness.”

Life after cricket

Bhatt may have taken her kit bag off the pitch, but she never really walked away.

“Life beyond the pitch has been very kind,” she says.

“Every time I felt I was hitting a roadblock, another opportunity opened. I’ve been blessed.”

Those opportunities included sports commentary where her perspective as a former cricketer gives her an edge.

“Only if you’ve played the game can you truly talk about it,” she says with conviction. “We’ve been out there on those 22 yards. We know what goes through a player’s mind. No camera or analyst can tell you that.”

It’s that empathy, she believes, that separates her from the pack of trade pundits.

“Sometimes commentators are too critical or too technical. But sport is also emotion. That’s what I bring into my commentary.”

Growing up in Dubai with cricket in her veins

Bhatt didn’t exactly ask permission to be a cricketer.

“I never had that conversation with my parents,” she laughs.

“I grew up watching the game on TV, replicating what I saw. I was the only girl in my high school who wanted to play cricket. My PE teacher tried to stop me, saying, ‘It’s a hard ball, you’ll get hurt. Why play with the boys?’ But I still wanted to.”

Her gamble paid off. When the UAE cap came calling, her parents were ecstatic.

“Who gets the chance to play for a national side? They were on top of the world. My mother is still my biggest critic — she texts me during commentary telling me I’m too loud or to stop repeating a word.”

She credits Dubai for shaping her identity as much as cricket did. “I’m a Dubai kid through and through. This city made me who I am. If not for Dubai and if not for sport, Charvi Bhatt wouldn’t have been Charvi Bhatt.”

On privilege, parents, and paying the bills

Does sport need privilege? Bhatt shuts that down quickly. “No. I didn’t come from privilege. I come from a middle-class family. My parents work hard every day, and so do I. I’m up at 5am, at my desk by 8:30 ... What matters is talent, skill, and the self-drive to make it to the top.”

And yes, she says, sport can pay your bills — if you’re in the right place at the right time.

What men can learn from women’s cricket

Ask her what men’s cricket can learn from women’s, and she doesn’t hesitate. “Adaptability. And the fact that women feel losses more deeply. We’re more emotional, more sensitive. That’s not a weakness — that’s fire.”

Sometimes, she adds, the aggression is higher than what you see in the men’s game.

“Men are easy. They’ll shake hands and move on. Women? If we don’t like you, we don’t like you. We’ll let you know. The fire keeps burning within.”

It’s that fire, she insists, that keeps women pushing forward in male-dominated spaces. “We’re educated, we’re smart, we’ve got our heads on our shoulders, and we’re not afraid. That scares some people. But it’s exactly why we deserve a seat at the table.”

And if there’s no seat? She borrows from Oprah: bring your own chair.

Breaking barriers in commentary

When Bhatt started commentating in 2016, she was often the only woman in the media box. “People would turn and look at me, wondering what I knew about the game. I told them, yes, I come from an associate nation, but I’ve done the hard miles. I’ve spent time on the ground. I know what I’m talking about.”

She has little patience for the stereotype that women in commentary are just there as “a pretty face.” “We come with substance,” she says firmly. “When you can challenge any male counterpart with your knowledge, they step back. I’ve faced that, and I know it.”

Wins, losses, and what really stays with you

Like many athletes, Bhatt remembers her defeats more than her victories. “I can go back in my memory and pinpoint the days I fell flat on my face. The wins blur, but the failures stick.”

That toughness carries into life after cricket. “Sport humbles you and toughens you at the same time. I remind myself every morning — today could be great, but be prepared for the day it all comes crashing down.”

What’s next: the podcast

Now Bhatt is ready for her next innings: The Gameplan DXB, a sports podcast powered by Middlesex University Dubai and the London Sport Institute.

“Every guest makes my stomach flip,” she admits. “I prepare, I research, but I still get nervous. That’s how you know it matters.”

She won’t reveal future guests just yet, but promises untold stories. “Don’t watch it for the names. Watch it for the stories. Every episode will shape you.”

If the South Asia Cup gave us a taste of Bhatt’s commentary fire, her podcast looks set to cement her voice as one of the most authentic in sport.

“Life happened because of sport, and sport happened because of life,” she says. “Both made me who I am.”