India didn’t win the match, we lost it

It was Mark Twain who said that “when we remember we are all mad, the mysteries disappear and life stands explained”. Indeed, we must be mad; especially the well-known journalist who wrote to say the other day that we lost the semi-final to India because God was angry with Pakistan and hence did not answer our prayers. According to him, God was irked because we took to the streets to listen and watch the match at Mohali but not to protest the burning of the Holy Quran by Pastor Jones or the shameful release of Raymond Davis, nay, worse because we elected the corrupt PPP to power.

Such sentiments, motivated not by piety but mindless hatred for the current regime, make for a good laugh. It’s far more entertaining than what the journalist writes during his occasional bouts of sanity. But it does make this country unfathomable to the outsider. Imagine a lunatic asylum being reported on by lunatics.

And it’s not only deranged outpourings which are constant reminders of our plight. Twenty-five people were injured in Karachi, three critically, as a result of celebratory firing every time Pakistan scored a four or a six. Sadly, these gunmen did not shoot each other when we lost.

“Man” said the essayist Charles Lamb, “is a gaming animal”, which was the provenance of yet another explanation for our defeat — match-fixing. It formed the content of an hour-long programme. Possibly spurred on by concern for his low ratings and based on what can charitably be described as slur and innuendo, this anchor laid the blame for our loss squarely on the shoulders of the Akmal brothers and Misbahul Haq. He trotted out the former wicket-keeper Zulqarnain Haider, now seeking asylum in London, to expose “guilty” match-fixers. As if on cue, Zulqarnain said he would be able to persuade the guilty to admit their follies by swearing on the Holy Quran, forgetting that the last luminary who swore on the Quran and denied he was corrupt was the former religious affairs minister now cooling his heels in jail. In a society where people lie when it is easier to tell the truth, Zulqarnain will find it hard going to get anybody to admit to anything.

Thus far we have two explanations for our defeat. No doubt, other reasons will be forthcoming like, for example, the suggestion that it all happened because Tendulkar ate yogurt, and the Pakistani fielders butter, prior to the match. Come to think of it, our batsmen did seem desperately eager to return to the pavilion. Hence, whatever else they ate they must have moistened it with a double helping of baked beans. Why else would their need to reach the pavilion prove irresistible?

As for the match itself, it had little to offer the cricket purist. The bowling on both sides was at best of club level. India did not win the match; rather we lost it. Even Nawaz Sharif, had he been given four lives, like Tendulkar, would have stood a chance of scoring 85. Umar Gul was unrecognisable. No one who bowls four full tosses in a row, on the leg stump during a ‘Powerplay’, should be taken seriously. I studied Umar Gul’s expression closely to see what he was thinking. When he is not thinking he looks like someone with a massive sinus problem, when he is thinking he looks the same, except that he blinks all the time. I suspect if doctors x-rayed his head they would find nothing.

Younus Khan should stick to playing imagined shots on TV ads, the reality is much too ugly to behold. As for Misbahul Haq, he clearly believed he was playing in a five-dayer rather than a one-dayer till, that is, a runner from the pavilion reminded him that he was not, whereupon he switched to baseball mode. Afridi, of course, is bad at math, as his decision on the Powerplay showed, but the sight of his arms akimbo makes up for all that and his batting. Nor does Afridi have the hallmark of a great captain which, Richie Benaud once said, “was the ability to win the toss at the right time!”.

The war, without the shooting part of course, which was waged at Mohali may nevertheless redound to the benefit of relations with India. The several hours that Gilani and Manmohan Singh spent in each other’s company may bode well for the future. They seemed to get on well — opposites usually attract. The sense of urgency lent by their words suggests some quick agreements may be in the works.

Of course, this time neither can afford to do nothing. Sharm el-Sheikh, after which India reversed course, and Thimphu, following which India remained obdurate, show we have been there, done that. We can’t go through that routine again. Kargil, to my mind, was the outcome of despair as much as Musharraf’s foolishness. Besides, however mellifluous they may sound, words, like falling snow, can only temporarily blunt the edges of old hatreds. When the sun comes up and the snow melts these ‘ancient animosities’ stand out once again, jagged, ugly, cruel and as threatening as before. In due course and from time to time they lead to an explosion of anger and resentment, whether over Kashmir, water or what have you.

Will things be different this time? One incident on the field may be a portent that they will. This took place when Ashish Nehra needed to tell the umpires whether the catch, which he seemed to have taken, had, in fact, been taken cleanly. Hence, we awaited his reaction. Nehra hesitated for a brief second. He desperately wanted the catch to be a clean one and so did every Indian in the stadium. It must have been tempting, irresistibly so, for him to pretend that the ball had not touched the ground. To his everlasting credit, Nehra did not. His demeanour, but most of all his expression, indicated that the ball had touched the grass. Now that, in the India-Pakistan context, is progress. Will our leaders own up to the truth, as he did, and attempt to settle matters as honestly and honourably as Nehra?

Fat chance, some say. Let’s see.

Published in The Express Tribune, April 2^nd,  2011.