For many, these turfs represent more than just recreational facilities—they are sanctuaries where the pressures of professional life give way to the pure joy of physical activity.
Published Jul 20, 2025 | 8:00 AM ⚊ Updated Jul 20, 2025 | 8:00 AM
The turf culture of Hyderabad. (Supplied)
Synopsis: In Hyderabad, floodlit turf grounds are transforming evenings for corporate professionals, offering a much-needed escape through sports like football, box cricket, and pickleball. These spaces foster community, break social barriers, and even support underprivileged children. These turfs celebrate human connection beyond the workday grind.
In the heart of Madhapur, where glass towers house some of the world’s biggest tech firms, a different kind of rush hour unfolds every evening. Office-goers in formal wear stream into narrow lanes, squeezing their scooters and hatchbacks into tight corners outside modest buildings that look more like closed shops than sports arenas.
Inside, rows of shoes and racks of energy drinks hint at something else—a space that offers escape.
“I spend around ₹500 a week here,” says Manoj, a JP Morgan software engineer, as he laces up his badminton shoes, adding, “It’s not just about the game—it’s how I disconnect from the screen.” The sharp crack of shuttle smashes fills the air, as players reclaim their evenings on courts that have become a haven from corporate chaos.
This is the rhythm of Hyderabad’s growing turf — typically a small, enclosed synthetic playing surface—designed for sports like football, cricket, badminton, or pickleball—booked by the hour and built for modern city life.
As the sun sets over Hyderabad’s west—Madhapur, Hitech City, Kondapur, Gachibowli, and Nallagandla—these floodlit turf grounds come alive. Packed with office-goers who shed their workday fatigue for a game of football or cricket, these modest spaces have quietly become the city’s newest meeting grounds.
The transformation is remarkable to witness. What appears as empty patches of artificial grass during the scorching afternoon heat becomes a vibrant tapestry of human connection as evening approaches. The first players usually arrive around 5 PM, their corporate badges still dangling from lanyards, laptop bags hastily stowed in corners as they change into well-worn sports shoes that have seen countless matches.
It’s not always about the game—or the money. A turf that charges ₹400 to ₹600 an hour rarely burdens a single pocket. Four friends pitch in for a badminton court. Ten colleagues come together to split the cost of a football field.
Many even travel long distances across the city just to meet “their turf group” every evening or weekend. For some, it’s the only time in the week they get to unwind, meet familiar faces, and feel like themselves—away from the hustle of corporate life.
Earlier, Hyderabad’s workforce revolved around central government offices and national research institutes, which offered built-in recreational spaces—parks, clubs, and sports grounds. But as IT companies rose and the corporate culture shifted westward, that sense of balance got lost.
Long hours, tight schedules, and the “always-on” mindset left little room for play. These turfs now bridge that gap—offering not just physical activity, but a mental release.
However this phenomenon is not limited to west Hyderabad. In the suburban area of Alwal near Secunderabad, another chapter of this story began unfolding in December 2024.
The genesis of “Smaash Inn Play Area” a pickleball court and a turf, traces back to 2020, when Jaagruth Reddy, an ambitious young entrepreneur, shared his vision with his best friend Sai Kumar—an IT employee who could have been a kabaddi star in another life.
“We wanted to create something different,” Jaagruth recalls to South First, his eyes lighting up as he surveys the green box cricket and football fields that now occupy the space. “Not cards, darts, or pool—we were clear about that. Our focus was football and box cricket, sports that could bring people together.” The duo were joined by their friend Shivanand, who brought his financial acumen to complete the trio.
What’s more, they’ve become a smart business opportunity too. Locals who own land in the fast-growing western suburbs are turning them into turf facilities, often with loans from banks that now recognize the model as viable.
However, the journey to this success was far from smooth. “The toughest part came when some people in Alwal tried to interrupt our progress,” Sai Kumar, admits, his voice carrying the weight of those challenging months. “We had to put the project on pause, but the three of us stuck together.”
Their perseverance paid off when the turf was finally inaugurated, offering football, box cricket, and pickleball—three exciting sports for three enthusiastic friends.
The game of pickleball carries its own nostalgic story, harking back to a summer afternoon in 1965 when three dads—Joel Pritchard, Bill Bell, and Barney McCallum from Washington, USA—created this fun paddle sport for their families.
“Joel, Bill, and Barney wanted family entertainment, but we wanted something bigger,” Shivanand explains, gesturing toward the bustling courts. “We genuinely wanted to serve the public of Hyderabad—a relaxing third space for corporate employees and a free encouraging coaching arrangement for kids who can’t really afford it.”
The colourful pickleball court draws public attention alongside the traditional fields, while the setting sun’s last rays filter through the nets of the turf walls, creating designed shadows on the rubbery grass below.
The social impact of their venture extends beyond profit margins, creating ripple effects that touch lives across economic boundaries. They have facilitated six children to play football completely free of cost, while specially-abled athletes are always welcome at their facility. The free parking lot they have established addresses one of the most persistent problems in urban sports facilities.
“Pickleball was Sai’s idea, and I handled the accounts and finance,” Shivanand notes, demonstrating how the friends have leveraged their individual strengths. “But our real success is measured in the smiles of those kids who get to play here without worrying about money,” he adds.
The democratic nature of turf culture becomes even more apparent in this corner of the city, where sometimes a joyful group of under privileged children are given free access to premium facilities. These moments of inclusion punctuate the otherwise commercial landscape of urban sports, reminding everyone that play is a universal language that transcends economic boundaries.
The success stories continue to multiply across Hyderabad’s expanding urban landscape.
Srihari, another pioneer in this space, has been building his wonderful creation for over a year now in the west Hyderabad. His success continues to shift and evolve as he plans to establish more places like his current venture. “A bigger branch will be established in Manikonda soon,” he announces, his confidence backed by the steady stream of corporate professionals who have made his facility their second home.
In total, the turfs have their own stories of success, each court bearing witness to personal victories, professional friendships, and moments of pure, uncomplicated joy.
“Every evening, I watch the same ritual,” one turf owner observes. “Around 6 PM, the parking lot fills up with cars bearing tech company stickers. Out come people who’ve spent their day in air-conditioned offices, and suddenly they’re diving for catches, arguing about LBWs, and celebrating like teenagers. It’s beautiful to witness this transformation.”
Yet, not every story in this emerging industry follows a smooth trajectory. The story of health and fitness coach Ritika Borah is one such.
In 2021, Ritika entered into a partnership to create MadeOf—a third space and sports community designed specifically for women in the city.
“I wanted to build something that would empower women through sports,” she explains, her voice reflecting both determination and disappointment. “But after two years, the partnership fell apart, and I still tried my best to hold on to my vision.”
Things became more difficult in April 2024, when Ritika began to notice a lack of interest and support from her partner. Despite her detailed plans, nothing moved forward. Eventually, she was forced to stop organizing events for the community.
This is the story of MadeOf—an organization built on sacrifices and dreams. “I gave up a stable job to run this initiative and create spaces where women could access sports facilities,” Ritika reflects. “MadeOf was built on passion and purpose, but even the strongest foundations can crumble when not everyone shares the same commitment.”
The evening ritual has become almost sacred in its regularity. As the floodlights illuminate the artificial grass and the sounds of the city fade into background noise, something magical happens. Hierarchies dissolve, stress evaporates, and for a few precious hours, Hyderabad’s workforce rediscovers the simple pleasure of being human.
“Every match tells a story,” observes one regular player. “Last week, our team had people from different companies, different backgrounds, different ages. But on the field, we were just people playing a game. That’s the magic of these places—they break down barriers without even trying.”
For many, these turfs represent more than just recreational facilities—they are sanctuaries where the pressures of professional life give way to the pure joy of physical activity. The sight of corporate executives diving for catches, celebrating goals, and engaging in friendly banter with colleagues creates a sense of community that is often missing from urban professional life.
(Edited by Sumavarsha)
