Mohali and beyond
Victory in the India Pakistan match is not merely a matter of cricket but of national pride and honour.
Every Pakistani and Indian, whether living in the subcontinent or part of the diaspora, is fully aware that the ICC World Cup semi-final to be played between Pakistan and India at Mohali today is more than just a cricket match! Whilst the governments of the two countries may try and avail the opportunity to organise peace talks, which have been held in abeyance for more than two years, and well-meaning television anchors may speak of ‘cricket diplomacy’, deep within the hearts and minds of the Pakistani and Indian public, the spirit is combative, even belligerent: Neither side wants its team merely to play well, it wants its team to win, to decimate the other. And in case someone has missed the point: Victory in this game is not merely a matter of cricket but of national pride and honour!
Whilst I was somewhat discomfited by the thought of Pakistan’s national honour riding at the back of what is so far only the possibility of a cricketing victory, (especially when in other, even more important circumstances, Pakistan seems to be unconcerned about earning her honour or when expediency demands, compromising it), I too had joined the bandwagon of cheerleaders for the Pakistani squad: I joined a Facebook page organising prayers for Pakistan’s victory and was determined to wear green on the day, in solidarity with the team and the nation.
However, a voice at the back of my mind seemed to take the cheer out of my blindly nationalistic cries of victory for Pakistan, by persistently suggesting that Indians were not only likely to be mighty opponents, but may well prove to be the better team. As if to support its argument, the voice started reminding me of my many Indian friends from college: I particularly remembered Mini whose family is from Chandigarh, not far from where this match is being played, with whom I had forged an instant, close friendship more than 20 years ago, which has neither been dampened by years nor distances, and Ramanan, with whom I have shared an enduring love of old Indian songs. I also remembered many more unique, vibrant and warm individuals who outwardly seemed so similar to us Pakistanis, but in fact were different in their psyches and aspirations.
The greatest difference that I noted between Pakistanis and Indians was the latter’s strong and uncompromising sense of being Indian, which they preserved irrespective of their backgrounds and ethnicities and despite any angst they felt towards each other. Sometimes this sense of Indian-ness was targeted at Pakistanis — I remember being riled if an Indian would flippantly declare that Indians and Pakistanis were in fact ‘one’ and that Partition was a tragedy, if not a downright mistake — but, on the whole, it provided an anchor to the Indian personality. In comparison, Pakistanis appeared less certain of their national identity and, in trying to define it, they either became defensive or divided. I also remembered noticing, not without envy, that unlike Pakistanis, who could more easily be swayed by extraneous considerations, Indians usually had a clear idea of the outcome they wanted in any given situation, the ability to remain focused on that outcome and the capacity to work hard towards achieving it.
It is perhaps natural, therefore, that a part of me is concerned that when the game begins at Mohali today, Indians will demonstrate greater unity, focus and steadiness, whereas Pakistanis may fall prey to the temptation of displaying individual flamboyance. Whilst I hope that does not prove to be the case and the Pakistani team wins, that persistent and contrary voice at the back of my mind interrupts, yet again, to remind me that it is about time that the team, and in fact the entire nation, realised that true honour and national pride does not lie in one-off victories against even the mightiest of rivals; that the hallmark of success is the sustained ability of a people to harness their individual egos to a collective team spirit and purpose, to act with impeccable integrity and to give a flawless performance no matter what the temptations and the odds.
Published in The Express Tribune, March 30th, 2011.
Whilst I was somewhat discomfited by the thought of Pakistan’s national honour riding at the back of what is so far only the possibility of a cricketing victory, (especially when in other, even more important circumstances, Pakistan seems to be unconcerned about earning her honour or when expediency demands, compromising it), I too had joined the bandwagon of cheerleaders for the Pakistani squad: I joined a Facebook page organising prayers for Pakistan’s victory and was determined to wear green on the day, in solidarity with the team and the nation.
However, a voice at the back of my mind seemed to take the cheer out of my blindly nationalistic cries of victory for Pakistan, by persistently suggesting that Indians were not only likely to be mighty opponents, but may well prove to be the better team. As if to support its argument, the voice started reminding me of my many Indian friends from college: I particularly remembered Mini whose family is from Chandigarh, not far from where this match is being played, with whom I had forged an instant, close friendship more than 20 years ago, which has neither been dampened by years nor distances, and Ramanan, with whom I have shared an enduring love of old Indian songs. I also remembered many more unique, vibrant and warm individuals who outwardly seemed so similar to us Pakistanis, but in fact were different in their psyches and aspirations.
The greatest difference that I noted between Pakistanis and Indians was the latter’s strong and uncompromising sense of being Indian, which they preserved irrespective of their backgrounds and ethnicities and despite any angst they felt towards each other. Sometimes this sense of Indian-ness was targeted at Pakistanis — I remember being riled if an Indian would flippantly declare that Indians and Pakistanis were in fact ‘one’ and that Partition was a tragedy, if not a downright mistake — but, on the whole, it provided an anchor to the Indian personality. In comparison, Pakistanis appeared less certain of their national identity and, in trying to define it, they either became defensive or divided. I also remembered noticing, not without envy, that unlike Pakistanis, who could more easily be swayed by extraneous considerations, Indians usually had a clear idea of the outcome they wanted in any given situation, the ability to remain focused on that outcome and the capacity to work hard towards achieving it.
It is perhaps natural, therefore, that a part of me is concerned that when the game begins at Mohali today, Indians will demonstrate greater unity, focus and steadiness, whereas Pakistanis may fall prey to the temptation of displaying individual flamboyance. Whilst I hope that does not prove to be the case and the Pakistani team wins, that persistent and contrary voice at the back of my mind interrupts, yet again, to remind me that it is about time that the team, and in fact the entire nation, realised that true honour and national pride does not lie in one-off victories against even the mightiest of rivals; that the hallmark of success is the sustained ability of a people to harness their individual egos to a collective team spirit and purpose, to act with impeccable integrity and to give a flawless performance no matter what the temptations and the odds.
Published in The Express Tribune, March 30th, 2011.