The sun had barely breached the horizon over the Indian subcontinent on the morning of June 22, 2009, but the country had not slept. The night had been a blur of firecrackers, drums, and dancing in the streets. Now, as the adrenaline faded into a warm, golden glow of triumph, the morning papers arrived with the thud of history landing on doorsteps.
The headlines were not just news; they were roars of victory printed in bold, black ink.
THE TIMES OF INDIA: "THE DEVIL OF LORD'S: DEVA DESTROYS PAKISTAN."
HINDUSTAN TIMES: "305! INDIA RETAINS THE CROWN."
DAINIK JAGRAN: "BADLA PURA! (Revenge Complete!)"
THE TELEGRAPH: "DEVILISHLY GOOD: THE RISE OF A SUPERSTAR."
On the television news channels, the ticker tapes were scrolling so fast they were a blur of red and blue. The footage of Siddanth Deva's salute after his century, his hat-trick ball to Amir, and the image of him lifting the trophy were playing on an infinite loop.
The moniker given by Ravi Shastri in the heat of the moment—"The Devil of Cricket"—had stuck. It wasn't an insult. In a country that worshipped its cricketing heroes as gods, "The Devil" was the counterpoint—the ruthless, unstoppable force that visited nightmares upon the opposition. If Sachin was the God who created, Siddanth was the Devil who destroyed.
The Interview: Mehdipatnam, Hyderabad
The narrow streets of Mehdipatnam were usually clogged with auto-rickshaws and vegetable vendors. Today, they were clogged with OB vans from every major news network in India—NDTV, CNN-IBN, Star News, Aaj Tak. Cables snaked across the road like black pythons.
The Deva residence, a modest middle-class house, had been turned into a pilgrimage site.
Inside, the living room was a chaotic mix of neighbors, relatives who hadn't visited in years, and cameramen trying to find a good angle.
Sitting on the sofa, looking tired but radiating a quiet, dignified pride, were Vikram and Sesikala Deva.
Rajdeep Sardesai, one of India's most prominent journalists, sat opposite them, microphone in hand. The "Live" light on the camera blinked red.
Rajdeep: "We are live from Hyderabad, from the home of the man of the moment. I am sitting with Mr. Vikram Deva and Mrs. Sesikala Deva. Sir, Ma'am, the whole country is celebrating. Your son has just played perhaps the greatest innings in the history of the game. How does it feel this morning?"
Vikram adjusted his glasses.
"It feels... it feels like a dream. We watched every ball. When he hit that first six off Amir... I stood up on my chair. I told my wife, 'Look! That is our Siddu!' But 188 runs? A hat-trick? Even as a father, I did not expect this. I am just... I am full. My heart is full."
Rajdeep: "Mrs. Deva, how were you feeling when? Do you get tense when your son plays? When do you finally relax?"
Sesikala smiled, her eyes crinkling. "I relaxed only when Dhoni lifted him up. Before that, I was scared. Amir bowled that bouncer... my heart stopped. But Siddu... he is brave. He doesn't show fear."
Rajdeep: "The world is calling him 'The Devil of Cricket' today. It's a fierce name. How do you feel about that nickname?"
Sesikala frowned slightly, a protective motherly instinct flaring up. "I don't like 'Devil'. He is a good boy! He eats his vegetables, he respects his elders. He is an angel to us."
Vikram laughed, patting her hand. "Sesi, it is a cricket name! It means he is dangerous for the other team, like a storm. I like it. It sounds strong. 'The Devil'. It means Pakistan was scared of him. That is a good thing in a final, no?"
Rajdeep: "Let's talk about the journey. We see the superstar today. But take us back. When did you realise that Siddanth wasn't just playing gully cricket? When did you know he was special?"
Vikram leaned back, a nostalgic look in his eyes.
"You know, he was always energetic. But honestly? Until he was ten years old, he was just a normal boy. He liked cricket, but he liked video games too. He was... maybe a little lazy?" He chuckled. "But then, something changed. I don't know what it was. Maybe he had a dream. Maybe he just grew up. But one day, he woke up, and he was... different."
Rajdeep: "Different how?"
"Focused," Vikram said intensely. "He stopped asking for toys. He asked for a proper bat. He started waking up at 4 AM. I used to wake up to drink water, and I would see his light on, and he would be doing pushups in his room. He started talking about diet, about proteins. He became... possessed. He told me, 'Nanna, I am going to play for India.' He didn't say 'I want to'. He said 'I am going to'. That confidence... that was new."
Rajdeep: "Mrs. Deva, mothers often worry about studies. Were you worried when he focused so much on cricket?"
Sesikala nodded vigorously. "Of course! I wanted him to be an engineer! Or a doctor! I told him, 'Siddu, cricket is a lottery. Study first.' But he promised me. He said, 'Amma, give me a chance. If I don't make it, I will become a lawyer like Nanna.' He kept his promise. Now... now I think he earns more than a lawyer in one match!"
Everyone laughed.
Rajdeep: "He certainly does. One final question. He's 18. He's a World Champion. He's rich. He's famous. Are you worried about him handling all this success so young?"
Vikram looked at the camera, his expression serious.
"I was. But after seeing him yesterday... did you see the interview? He didn't talk about himself. He thanked God. He thanked the team. That shows me he is still our Siddu. He has his feet on the ground. And if he ever flies too high..." Vikram made a slapping motion. "His mother is waiting with a chappal (slipper) to bring him down."
Rajdeep: "And on that note! The parents of the Champion, keeping it grounded. Thank you, Mr. and Mrs. Deva. Back to the studio."
---
While the news channels covered the emotion, the sports channels were breaking down the science.
On Star Cricket, the show "Match Point" was on air.
The host was Harsha Bhogle. The analysts were Sanjay Manjrekar and former Australian legend Dean Jones.
Behind them was a massive touchscreen displaying a 3D hologram of Siddanth Deva.
Harsha: "Welcome back. We are looking at the phenomenon that is Siddanth Deva. We've seen great batsmen. We've seen great bowlers. But have we ever seen someone dominate all three facets of the game in a single tournament like this? Deano?"
Dean Jones: "Never, Harsha. I've seen Sobers on tape. I've played against Kallis and Imran. But this kid? He's doing things that shouldn't be physically possible. Let's look at the batting first."
He touched the screen. A wagon wheel of Siddanth's 188 runs appeared. It was a kaleidoscope of lines covering every degree of the circle.
Jones: "Look at this wagon wheel. Usually, a batsman has a strong zone. Tendulkar drives straight. Ponting pulls. Deva? He has no weak zone. He scored 45 runs in the 'V' down the ground. He scored 60 runs behind square on the leg side. And look at this cluster behind point—reverse sweeps, scoops, glides. This is what we call 360-degree batting."
Sanjay Manjrekar: "It's the technique, Deano. Watch the head position."
The screen showed a slow-motion replay of Siddanth hitting Amir for a six over covers.
"See this? He plays the ball late. Extremely late. This allows him to react to swing or spin at the very last fraction of a second. But when he hits it, the bat speed is terrifying. It's a combination of soft hands for defense and iron wrists for power. He generates power from the core, not just the shoulders. That's why he can hit a yorker for six without stepping out."
Harsha: "And the switch hits? He played a switch hit against Sohail Tanvir in the final. A fast bowler!"
Jones: "That takes guts, mate. Pure guts. And eye-hand coordination that is off the charts. He swaps his grip before the bowler releases. If he misses, he looks like a fool. But he doesn't miss. His visual processing speed must be elite."
Harsha: "Now, let's talk bowling. He ended up the 3rd-best wicket-taking bowler. A hat-trick in the final."
The screen changed to a bowling analysis graphic.
Average Speed: 148.5 kph.
Fastest Ball: 156.4 kph.
Wickets: 18.
Dot Ball Percentage: 45%.
Manjrekar: "This is where he separates himself from Kallis or Watson. Those guys are batting all-rounders who bowl medium-fast. Siddanth is a genuine strike bowler. He is bowling 156kph. That is Brett Lee territory. That is Shoaib Akhtar territory."
Jones: "And he has the skills. Look at the hat-trick ball to Amir. The slower ball. He bowled it at 110kph. That's a 46kph drop in pace with no change in arm speed. That is biologically deceptive. The batsman's brain is wired to react to the arm speed. When the ball doesn't arrive, the circuitry fries. Deva fries their brains."
Harsha: "And fielding? In the IPL, he took the catch of the tournament against Kohli in the league stage. In the T20 World Cup, he took that catch off his own bowling to dismiss Dilshan in the semi-final."
Jones: "He's an athlete. He moves across the turf like a cat. He attacks the ball. In modern T20, saving 10 runs in the field is as good as scoring them. He saves 20."
Harsha: "So, the big question. He is 18. He has played two seasons of IPL and one World Cup. Is it too early to use the 'G' word?"
Manjrekar: "Greatness? It's early. But the trajectory is unprecedented. If he keeps this form... if his body holds up—and that is the big 'if' for a fast-bowling all-rounder—he won't just be a great. He will redefine what a cricketer is."
Jones: "I'll go a step further. If he plays for 15 years, he will be the greatest of all time. Better than Sobers. Better than Kallis. Because he wins matches on his own. He is the Ultimate Weapon. The 'Devil' moniker fits. Because when he plays, the opposition is in hell."
Harsha: "Strong words. But after yesterday, who can argue? Siddanth Deva has arrived, and the world of cricket will never be the same."
---
The analysis continued. They showed comparisons with Kapil Dev's 1983 performance. They showed comparisons with Yuvraj Singh's 2007 performance.
But every graph, every chart, pointed to one anomaly: Siddanth Deva.
A specialized segment aired: "The Anatomy of the Devil."
It broke down his physique.
Shoulders: Broad, swimmer-like build allowing for the slingy, fast arm action.
Legs: Powerful glutes and quads, generating the explosive jump at the crease.
Eyes: The analysts speculated on his reaction times being in the top 0.1% of humans.
"He is a bio-mechanical marvel," a sports physiotherapist guest explained. "To bowl fast requires a certain muscle type. To bat long requires a different endurance. He seems to have both. It's rare genetic lottery."
(Siddanth, watching this later on YouTube, would smile. Genetic lottery? Try System lottery.)
---
The show ended with a montage set to A.R. Rahman's Vande Mataram.
It showed Siddanth as a blur of motion.
The stumps cartwheeling.
The ball soaring into the Lord's pavilion.
The salute.
The hug with Dhoni.
The lifting of the trophy.
And finally, a freeze-frame of him holding the World Cup, the Indian flag draped over his shoulders, looking at the camera with that calm, knowing smile.
Voiceover: "India has found its new hero. A boy from Hyderabad who conquered the world. The Devil who brought heaven to a billion fans. The World Cup is home. And the era of Siddanth Deva has begun."
The screen faded to black.
But in India, the lights would stay on all night.