"We are about to land in a few minutes. I hope you had a pleasant journey. Thank you for choosing our airline. We look forward to serving you again," the pilot announced. Hearing this, I breathed a sigh of relief, as the turbulence had made the journey quite unsettling. Although I had kept my eyes closed, deep inside, I was nervous. Air travel is always like this.
The young man sitting next to me had been watching a movie on his phone, but as soon as the plane started shaking, he put his phone away and began reciting prayers. The flight wasn't particularly dangerous, but given the number of air accidents this year, everyone was naturally apprehensive.
My journey began in Karachi. Just like last time, there was a long queue at the airport entrance. A porter approached me and offered a "fast-track" entry. When I asked about the price, he replied, "Whatever you feel like giving." Since I knew it wouldn't take long, I declined his offer. Inside, the immigration counters were crowded, mostly with people traveling for Umrah. However, the FIA had improved arrangements, ensuring that everyone cleared immigration before their flight.
Upon arriving in the UAE, the e-gate clearance process took only a few minutes. A quick passport scan, an eye scan, and I was through, ready to collect my luggage and exit. For first-time travelers, regular immigration counters were available.
From the airport, I headed to my hotel. My taxi driver seemed to be a fan of Michael Schumacher, driving at speeds over 120 km/h. If only Pakistan's cricket team showed such speed and aggression, they might have been playing in the final. After dropping off my luggage at the hotel, I took another taxi to the stadium. This time, the driver was a Pakistani, who dropped me off near the stadium. A long walk awaited me.
I had planned to impress my friends by recording 10,000 steps on my fitness app, but just like in the Pakistan-India match, I got lucky. An Indian family in a VIP buggy offered me a ride, saving me the trouble of long walking. They told me they had traveled from England specifically to watch the match.
Inside the stadium, blue jerseys and Indian flags dominated the scene, but the atmosphere was not quite like a Pakistan-India match. No matter how weak our team is, Pakistani fans always arrive with hope, expecting a miracle. Unfortunately, the team has been mostly disappointing lately.
As expected, the media center was filled with Indian journalists, though I spotted four or five Pakistanis as well. Among them was Sibt Arif, a seasoned journalist known for his intelligence and friendly nature. One can never get bored in his company.
When Rachin Ravindra started his aggressive batting, the stadium fell silent. I jokingly told Sibt Arif that we were free from pressure since Pakistan was not playing. However, the New Zealand players felt like our ownwatching them hit boundaries gave the same joy as seeing Babar or Rizwan bat. But it was important to control emotions. The Indian media, on the other hand, reacted loudly every time a wicket fell.
Initially, the crowd was quiet, but as Indian bowlers took wickets, their enthusiasm grew. Security was tight at the stadium, with thorough checks at the entrance. However, as I mentioned earlier, armed personnel were barely visible. Laws are strictly followed here, and people act accordingly. In the enclosures, security officials in black suits, ties, and white shirts kept a close watch on the crowd, intervening wherever necessary.
As I sat in Dubai Stadium, I reflected on how the Indian Cricket Board had managed to create a "home away from home" atmosphere for their team. Pakistan was officially the host of the Champions Trophy, yet India had deprived us of hosting such an important match in Lahore. Even if Pakistan had not qualified for the final, Gaddafi Stadium would have been packed with passionate fans.
The poor performance of our team only added to the disappointment. Imagine if we, the official hosts, had ended up playing the final in Dubaiit would have felt bizarre.
During India's innings, when Rohit Sharma began attacking from the start, chants of "Rohit, Rohit" echoed through the stadium. Despite leading his team to the final, he had been facing criticism over his fitness and calls for retirement. Ignoring all the negativity, he played a crucial role in securing victory for his team.
Although the organizers had arranged food, local journalists like Razia and Abdullah brought traditional homemade snacks, including pakoras, dahi baray, and chaat For iftaar, The dining area turned into a festive gathering.
The absence of PCB representatives was noticeable. Journalists remarked that Pakistan was the official host, yet no one from the board was present. Now, as the match nears its end, the Indian team is about to be crowned champions. Fireworks have begun, marking their victory.
This tournament leaves Pakistan with many unanswered questions. As hosts, we were merely guests for a few days. We built stadiums but failed to build a strong team. The most frustrating part is that we never seem to learn from our mistakes. Who knows when things will improve?.
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