Though Ansari and the other girls come from diverse backgrounds, 90 per cent of them Muslim and the remaining from other communities, it is their love for football that binds them together in that room. They are also united by a secret—their parents do not know that they play football. They leave their homes in salwar kameez, a burqa covering them from head to toe. At the Parcham office, they change into their football gear and head to the public ground for their practice sessions. Once the session is over, they are back in their traditional wear for the trip back home. There are some like Ansari, the daughter of a maulana (priest), who faced violence at home due to her crazy love for football. “I have been playing football since I was three-and-a-half. Initially, I played football wearing the hijab. Later on, I played in a salwar kameez. I would tell my mother that I had extra classes. The day my mother was told by someone that I was playing football, I was beaten up. For five months, my family monitored my movements very closely. I gave up football for five months. Finally, my nani (maternal grandmother) convinced my family to let me play,” she tells Outlook. The permission was conditional. She had to cook for the entire family and do all the household chores before she went out to play football. Ansari had to reach back home at the exact hour she told them she would. “One day, I got late from practice and I was beaten badly. For a week I lived in a hostile home. Then I left home with some clothes and Rs 400 which I had saved over months. I sought help from an NGO. I lived in a rescue home for some time and returned home after my mother promised that she would let me play football,” says Ansari. Today, her mother has emerged as her greatest support. Shorts and t-shirt have replaced the hijab on the field. “Today, I am a coach and during practice, I hear stories similar to mine. That is my connect with the girls,” she said.