Vaibhav Sooryavanshi walked out to bat for Rajasthan Royals this season and the internet lost its mind. A teenager from a small town in Bihar, playing in the biggest cricket league in the world — it felt like proof of a promise. The IPL’s own tagline has always been where talent meets opportunity, and here, in the shape of one prodigiously gifted boy, was the evidence.

But zoom out. Look past the headline, past the moment, and look at the full picture — state by state, player by player — and a very different story emerges.

Punjab, a state of 30 million people, has 17 players in IPL 2026 squads — across six franchises. Delhi has 13. Maharashtra and Mumbai together account for 24. Karnataka sends 9. Tamil Nadu, 7. Meanwhile, Tripura — affiliated with the BCCI since 1985, playing first-class cricket for over four decades — has zero. The North East, vast, talented, and chronically underserved, has zero, because the lone player representing the North East comes from Assam, which, in BCCI terminology, is part of East Zone and the North East Zone. 

The talent, as every coach, selector and administrator in this country will tell you, exists everywhere. The opportunity does not.

The Map of Power

Pull up a map of India and shade it by IPL representation and it looks almost exactly like a map of colonial-era railway density — thick in the west, south and north-west, thinning rapidly as you move east and north-east. Infrastructure, connectivity and institutional investment follow the same lines they always have.

Punjab’s 17 players span six different franchises. A state with international airports, with Mohali hosting World Cup matches, with a T20 league of its own — Punjab has built a cricket conveyor belt so efficient it exports talent to every corner of the IPL. Madhya Pradesh has 13 players. Delhi, 13. Uttar Pradesh, 11. The Hindi heartland states, large and increasingly aggressive in their cricketing investment, are filling IPL dugouts.

The Infrastructure Argument

M.B. Mura Singh, who has played 101 First-Class, 83 List A and 80 T20 matches for Tripura, put his state’s situation with quiet precision in a chat with Financial Express.com.

“We have been affiliated since 1985 and have not hosted a single international match. We don’t have an international ground. The international stadium is being made — it has not been completed yet. We are far behind in that.”

He is not complaining. He is describing a structural reality that compounds itself season after season.

When an international match is hosted, the staging association earns a share of the gate and the BCCI‘s match funds. That money flows back into grounds, academies, coaching — and, crucially, into state T20 leagues that give players a live broadcast window before IPL auctions. No international matches means less revenue. Less revenue means fewer leagues. Fewer leagues means less visibility. And less visibility means scouts don’t come. Partly, as Mura Singh noted, because to get to Tripura:

“If a scout also wants to come, he will have to take a flight.”

This is the loop. And it is very hard to break from inside.

Equal Money, Unequal Outcomes

The counterargument — and it is made forcefully by those who have built programmes from scratch — is that the BCCI distributes broadly equal revenue to all state associations, and that what states do with that money is their own responsibility.

MSK Prasad, the former India selector, frames it directly: the ecosystem matters — grassroots programmes, schools, colleges, clubs. States that have invested in that over decades now reap the returns. The North East, he points out, has only come into the fold in recent years. They will take time.

“Whichever states are proactive, whichever states have their heart in the right place to develop the game and see their players flourishing — are progressing.”

He is right. And yet the argument contains within it an acknowledgment of the problem: time, in cricket, is a resource as scarce as talent. A player peaks once.

As a former administrator who helped develop Andhra’s cricket infrastructure, Prasad describes: deliberate state-level investment — in grounds, in academies, in structured pathways — produced Nitish Kumar Reddy, a pipeline of women’s internationals, and continuous under-19 representation. Today, Andhra has five to six players in IPL squads. The work was unglamorous and slow. It worked.

What the Auctions Reveal

The IPL auction is, among other things, a visibility contest. Franchises buy what they have seen. And what they have seen is disproportionately shaped by which leagues are broadcast, which grounds host high-profile games, and which state associations have the machinery to push their players into the right tournaments at the right time.

Before the auction window, a scout might have thirty days — perhaps less — to identify talent across a country of 1.4 billion people. The players who fill those thirty days are the ones playing in the MP Premier League, the Maharaja Trophy, the Tamil Nadu Premier League, the Kerala Premier League. States without a broadcast league are largely invisible in that window.

Jatin Paranjape, former India cricketer and domestic legend who averaged 46 in First-Class cricket, makes a point that cuts through some of the noise:

“One has to think about representation through a different lens. Some states have better-developed grassroots, schools, colleges, clubs ecosystems. North East has just come into the fold four or five years ago, so they will take time.”

Team composition, he adds, is partly about what a franchise needs. You cannot have eleven opening batters. Representation is not simply a matter of geography; it is a matter of role, skill and timing.

But even accepting that, the data sits where it sits. Punjab’s 17 is not an accident of team needs. It is the return on decades of investment, infrastructure and institutional hustle.

The Voice from the Periphery

Parvez Rasool, who became the first cricketer from Jammu & Kashmir to play International cricket for India, is careful and precise when he speaks about this. He does not want the conversation to become about entitlement.

“Talent is paid wherever it is. If there is a talented player in a small state, it takes a little bit of time. People don’t know much about it. For example, take Riyan Parag. He was not known. But after getting picked, he has done really well — you see, we have a captain of a team from Assam right now.”

He is not wrong. And yet that lag — the time it takes for a talented boy from a structurally disadvantaged state to become visible — is precisely what the data captures. It is not that the talent is absent. It is that the systems which convert talent into opportunity are unevenly distributed. The IPL, for all its democratising energy, largely works within those systems rather than against them.

Parvez Rasool, a former India and Jammu and Kashmir cricketer
Parvez Rasool, a former India and Jammu and Kashmir cricketer

Rasool’s own career proved the point. He performed. He got picked. He made history. But he was, as he acknowledges, essentially alone. The infrastructure that might have produced five more like him from J&K is only now being built.

The Sooryavanshi Problem

Suryavanshi is from Bihar. He is extraordinary. He is also, quietly, an exception — and exceptions have a way of being used to close conversations that should stay open.

Bihar has three players in IPL 2026. Suryavanshi is one. The other two are Sakib Hussain, a promising seamer at Sunrisers Hyderabad, and Mohammed Izhar, a young left-arm pacer at Mumbai Indians. Bihar is not, by any stretch, punching at its weight for a state of 125 million people.

The boy’s brilliance does not fix the pipeline. It illustrates the gap. Somewhere in Bihar right now there are probably three or four players of genuine first-class quality who will never be seen by a franchise scout — because there is no broadcast league for a scout to watch, no international ground to generate the revenue for one, and no direct flight that makes a scouting trip straightforward.

Suryavanshi happened because his talent was so exceptional it could not be ignored. That is not a system. That is a lightning strike.

What Would Change Things

The answers, when they come from those inside the system, are structural and slow.

More international matches in more cities — not just Bengaluru, Chennai, Pune and Mumbai. Every time a Jaipur, a Lucknow or a Dharamsala hosts a match, money flows back into that state’s ecosystem. Himachal Pradesh’s investment in Dharamsala is paying visible dividends: Vaibhav Arora is in KKR’s squad this season.

More state T20 leagues, broadcast live. The visibility window before the auction is the most direct lever available to any state association. A well-run, televised league does more for a player’s auction prospects than almost anything else. The growth of the MP Premier League, the Tamil Nadu Premier League, the Kerala Cricket League — these are not coincidences. They are strategies.

And, perhaps most importantly, a recognition that broadly equal BCCI grants to all associations — while necessary — are not sufficient. Equal money flowing into unequal infrastructure produces unequal outcomes. The associations furthest behind need disproportionately greater support if the gap is to close in a timeframe meaningful for players alive today.

Tamil Nadu Premier League, one of the oldest state T20 leagues in the country.
Tamil Nadu Premier League, one of the oldest state T20 leagues in the country.

Sakibul Gani, a Bihar cricketer, who seems like getting an IPL call-up before every season, but ends up being ignored,  has made his name in domestic cricket. But instead of complaining about the lack of structured facilities back home, like a state league, which could perhaps show his prowess, he prefers to let his performances, at the national level, through Syed Mushtaq Ali Trophy, Vijay Hazare Trophy and Ranji Trophy, speak.

“But mai kya hi bol sakta hu. I just want to play. I am doing my best,” says a man, who has more than 4000 runs in domestic cricket. His words might me be sparse, but his talent isn’t. Those words carry more weight than any structural analysis. The players themselves mostly just want to play. The burden of fixing the system should not fall on them.

The Tagline and the Truth

Where talent meets opportunity, which is English for Sanskrit phrase- Yatra Pratibha Avsara Prapnotihi, the BCCI’s official Tagline, is a good line. In patches, it is a true one. The IPL has genuinely carried cricket into corners of India that Ranji Trophy scouts never consistently reached. Riyan Parag from Assam leads a franchise. Parvez Rasool from J&K played Test cricket. Sanju Samson from Kerala captained Rajasthan Royals for years. These are not small things.

But the data assembled here — state by state, player by player, across every franchise in IPL 2026 — suggests that the meeting of talent and opportunity is still largely happening on the same old ground. In the states with airports and academies and leagues and money and history.

The periphery is producing players. Suryavanshi, Parag, Rasool — they got through. But they got through in spite of the system as much as because of it. And for every one of them, there are dozens who did not — not because they lacked talent, but because talent, in India, still needs a great deal of help to become visible.

The IPL is into its 19th season. It has done more for Indian cricket’s geography than any tournament in history. It has not yet done enough.

The table of states and their IPL players tells you where Indian cricket is. The states with no names on it tell you where it needs to go.