Narratives often circulate—simplified, amplified, and even twisted.

But the true story unfolds on the ground.

The Unity Cup in Mayur Vihar was, in many ways, the real Kerala story. Not the one shaped by propaganda or headlines. But the one built by people — quietly, passionately, and with purpose.

Passion Beyond Stereotypes

The tournament was organised by a group of football enthusiasts who simply wanted to take their love for the game to the next level. And they did it the right way — with planning, discipline, and heart.

My friend Sandeep was leading the operations from the front. Around him was a team made up of working professionals and college students. Different backgrounds. Different careers. One common thread — football.

This is the part that often gets ignored. The Malayali community in Delhi coming together not for noise, not for division, but for sport. For culture. For celebration.

No slogans. Just sweat and teamwork.

More Than Just Football

Yes, the football was solid. Tough 7v7 grounds. Teams from across Delhi. Competitive games. Proper organisation.

But Unity Cup was more than just goals and tackles.

There were play areas for children. Food courts buzzing with conversations. Individual game zones. Families walking around. Friends cheering from the sidelines.

And then came the cultural performances.

A live display of Kalari Paitu — one of Kerala’s oldest martial arts. The powerful beats of Chanda Melam filling the air. A dance performance that brought everyone together.

That’s the Kerala I saw that day.

Rooted in tradition. Open in celebration. Confident in identity.

No drama. Just pride.

Through My Lens

From a photography perspective, the day was smooth. The games were well organised, which always helps in anticipating moments.

I captured:

• Goalkeepers flying mid-air to make crucial saves

• Players striking decisive goals

• Sliding tackles full of commitment

• Intense, dramatic face-offs & raw emotions

One image especially stayed with me — a single player standing firm against a wall of opponents. It looked symbolic. One against many. Calm in chaos.

Moments like these are why I love covering football.

The Night Reality

If there was one real learning from the event, it came after sunset.

I was using a 70–300mm lens, which performed well during the day. I also had a 50mm prime with me. But once the lights took over, I genuinely felt the absence of an 85mm or even a 135mm prime. That extra reach combined with stronger low-light performance would have helped me create tighter, cleaner, more impactful frames.

Another honest reflection — I wasn’t very comfortable using flash at that time, so I chose not to rely on it. During live gameplay, that was the right call, because flash can distract players and affect the flow of the match. But when it came to moments like the trophy distribution, I realised how valuable controlled flash lighting can be. It can freeze expressions sharply, separate subjects from the background, and truly elevate those celebration shots.

Photography teaches you something at every event. This one reminded me to prepare not just for the game, but for the changing light — and for the final moments that matter just as much as the action.

Not Alone in the Frame

I was covering the event alongside Aneesh Purushottaman. Having another photographer who understands game flow always adds depth to the coverage. Together, we were able to document the intensity from multiple angles.

The Real Story

The Unity Cup wasn’t just a football tournament.

It was working professionals taking leave to organise something meaningful. Students volunteering their time. Families showing up to support. Culture being celebrated naturally, not for show.

If someone asks me what the “real Kerala story” looks like — it looks like this.

Community over chaos.
Sport over noise.
Culture without conflict.

And I’m glad I was there to capture it.

Looking forward to being part of it again next year.