It all started innocently enough back in class 8th. What began as a simple game of calculating cricket match runs betting a measly 50 to 100 rupees per match quickly spiraled into something much bigger. Those tiny bets were just the gateway, a small taste of what was to come.
By college, things escalated fast. Illegal betting websites became my playground, and the stakes grew dramatically. What was once a 50-rupee flutter transformed into 500-1000 rupee bets that could make or break my entire week. The thrill was addictive—each match became more than just a game; it was a potential goldmine or a devastating loss. As years passed, I started spending 15-20k on betting accounts without a second thought. The IPL became more than just cricket. I'd watch every match until the last ball, always hoping to win. These short two-over betting sessions were particularly intense.
Let me break down how these quick bets worked: In a two-over session, you'd bet on whether the total runs scored would be above or below a specific number. For example, if the line was set at 16 runs for two overs, you'd bet "Yes" if you thought more than 16 runs would be scored, or "No" if you believed fewer runs would be hit. Each run mattered. If the actual run count hit exactly 16, most platforms would return your stake. But typically, you'd either win big or lose everything in just 12 balls.
These were pure gambling sessions with no science behind them. No amount of cricket knowledge, player stats, or match analysis could predict the outcome. The IPL, with its unpredictable nature, is the perfect breeding ground for gambling. Two overs of cricket could wipe out your entire stake in moments. There's no strategy, no skill just blind betting.
Here's the brutal truth that most gamblers won't admit: the system is rigged. These platforms are designed to extract every last rupee from your pocket while stealing something far more valuable—your time. The gambling cycle is a perfect psychological trap. Win today? You'll definitely reinvest that money tomorrow and lose it all. Lose today? You'll desperately try to recover your losses, only to sink deeper.
At 24, I've realised the true cost of my addiction. Now that betting is out of the picture, I've lost all interest in the IPL. Those endless hours—roughly 4 hours per match, spanning three months each year—represent a staggering 144 hours annually. Multiply that by 12 years, and I've essentially thrown away 1,728 hours of my life. That's two full months of my existence, wasted on mindless gambling and cricket betting.
Am I completely reformed? Not exactly. I still play poker once a month, and the casino is definitely on my bucket list. But I'm learning to recognise the difference between a casual flutter and a destructive habit. I'm not ashamed of my past, but I'm committed to making wiser choices.
The real victory isn't in winning a bet—it's in winning back control of your life.