A thank you note
Thank you Najam Sethi, for your persistence, planning and audacity to bring cricket back home
The writer is the recipient of the James A Wechsler Award for International Reporting and a graduate of Columbia University’s Graduate School of Journalism. He tweets @Mbilallakhani
Security in Lahore had my nerves on edge. I felt like a family from ‘abroad’ with a rishta for my sister was visiting my house. At the last minute, some khala and phuppo from their family declared they won’t come to our house because they don’t like our neighborhood. Everyone in our family is holding their breath and hoping the meeting goes off smoothly. That’s what it felt like with cricket coming back home. What felt impossible just two years ago, feels possible now and Najam Sethi appears to have punctured the manufactured narrative against Pakistan.
‘There was no fear at all,’ shares Aakif Azeem, an APS attack survivor, who lost 17 class mates, including four of his best friends. He was on the ground in Lahore to enjoy the PSL final. ‘It was extraordinary! The way people chanted, the way they celebrated. Lahore seemed to celebrate a festivity. The best moments I guess were when they chanted "sammy, sammy" it was absolutely magnificent!’
‘Tears came out of my eyes,’ Aakif says, while talking about his best friends. ‘I missed them of course but then I knew that what they laid down their lives for, its result was right in front of my eyes and the moment made me feel the most happy. Because this is what they would wanted!’
I asked him to share his thoughts for the nation: ‘my message would be that the people of Pakistan have suffered enough and it is about time that we see the colours brought back to us! Our hearts beat as one and surely nothing can match our resolve to eliminate this malice. And surely now, we are walking the due course!’
Meanwhile, Mira Sethi, the daughter of the dogged man on a mission, was also in the stadium, sharing a tender moment with her dad. On a Facebook post that went viral later, she shared: ‘A week ago I went up to Abu's study at 1 am. He was stressed out. Some foreign players had refused to play in Lahore. The franchise owners had concerns. Pakistanis were worried. Abu was pacing in his nightsuit, a cream-coloured khaddar shalwar kameez he has worn since I was a child.’
‘I hugged him and told him that, actually, I was worried too,’ shares Mira. ‘And I was. It was a perfectly legitimate concern. There was a lot to take care of. And today, here I am, sitting in Qaddafi stadium, the crowds roaring, doing "waves," countdowns, chants, engaged in selfie-itus that would give our actresses a run for their money.’
‘I went up to Abu and squeezed his hand. "You're wearing a woolen suit," I said. "It's too hot for this type of suit." "I don't feel hot at all," he laughed. I knew exactly what he meant: his mind and heart had expanded with joy. Heat? What heat? His mind was somewhere else. The stadium is lit up. Pakistan is lit up. May this flicker grow into a steady ray that arcs over this land. I love you, Pakistan. Pakistan Zindabad. #PSL #Pakistan’
Ironically, I was personally following the match on one screen and constantly refreshing news websites on another screen to make sure there was no security incident. We were all worried and realised that we’re playing for the same team. We forget this sometimes as Pakistanis. Next year, PSL will be played in the thick of election season. Wouldn’t it be great if everyone campaigned on their strengths versus their opposition’s weakness? We may have political differences with others in society but this doesn’t mean we aren’t batting for the same team. We have to learn to separate the action from the person; the sin from the sinner. In the end, our job isn’t to prove the other person wrong but to genuinely convince them to look at something differently.
All this is a long way of saying, thank you Najam Sethi, for your persistence, planning and audacity to bring cricket back home. We must give credit where it’s due and appreciate acts of goodness to encourage other public officials to do the same. When the history of Pakistan’s resurrection from the jaws of extremism is written, this match will serve as an inflection point. Make no mistake about it, terrorists struck Lahore in a burst of violence to derail PSL. The Pakistani people voted with their feet and chose a different, more colourful future for their children. This, finally, is what winning feels like!
Published in The Express Tribune, March 12th, 2017.
‘There was no fear at all,’ shares Aakif Azeem, an APS attack survivor, who lost 17 class mates, including four of his best friends. He was on the ground in Lahore to enjoy the PSL final. ‘It was extraordinary! The way people chanted, the way they celebrated. Lahore seemed to celebrate a festivity. The best moments I guess were when they chanted "sammy, sammy" it was absolutely magnificent!’
‘Tears came out of my eyes,’ Aakif says, while talking about his best friends. ‘I missed them of course but then I knew that what they laid down their lives for, its result was right in front of my eyes and the moment made me feel the most happy. Because this is what they would wanted!’
I asked him to share his thoughts for the nation: ‘my message would be that the people of Pakistan have suffered enough and it is about time that we see the colours brought back to us! Our hearts beat as one and surely nothing can match our resolve to eliminate this malice. And surely now, we are walking the due course!’
Meanwhile, Mira Sethi, the daughter of the dogged man on a mission, was also in the stadium, sharing a tender moment with her dad. On a Facebook post that went viral later, she shared: ‘A week ago I went up to Abu's study at 1 am. He was stressed out. Some foreign players had refused to play in Lahore. The franchise owners had concerns. Pakistanis were worried. Abu was pacing in his nightsuit, a cream-coloured khaddar shalwar kameez he has worn since I was a child.’
‘I hugged him and told him that, actually, I was worried too,’ shares Mira. ‘And I was. It was a perfectly legitimate concern. There was a lot to take care of. And today, here I am, sitting in Qaddafi stadium, the crowds roaring, doing "waves," countdowns, chants, engaged in selfie-itus that would give our actresses a run for their money.’
‘I went up to Abu and squeezed his hand. "You're wearing a woolen suit," I said. "It's too hot for this type of suit." "I don't feel hot at all," he laughed. I knew exactly what he meant: his mind and heart had expanded with joy. Heat? What heat? His mind was somewhere else. The stadium is lit up. Pakistan is lit up. May this flicker grow into a steady ray that arcs over this land. I love you, Pakistan. Pakistan Zindabad. #PSL #Pakistan’
Ironically, I was personally following the match on one screen and constantly refreshing news websites on another screen to make sure there was no security incident. We were all worried and realised that we’re playing for the same team. We forget this sometimes as Pakistanis. Next year, PSL will be played in the thick of election season. Wouldn’t it be great if everyone campaigned on their strengths versus their opposition’s weakness? We may have political differences with others in society but this doesn’t mean we aren’t batting for the same team. We have to learn to separate the action from the person; the sin from the sinner. In the end, our job isn’t to prove the other person wrong but to genuinely convince them to look at something differently.
All this is a long way of saying, thank you Najam Sethi, for your persistence, planning and audacity to bring cricket back home. We must give credit where it’s due and appreciate acts of goodness to encourage other public officials to do the same. When the history of Pakistan’s resurrection from the jaws of extremism is written, this match will serve as an inflection point. Make no mistake about it, terrorists struck Lahore in a burst of violence to derail PSL. The Pakistani people voted with their feet and chose a different, more colourful future for their children. This, finally, is what winning feels like!
Published in The Express Tribune, March 12th, 2017.