To the Men in Green - with Love.

I made the mistake of posting a couple of Facebook statuses about the match and people went into a tirade about the failures of the team. It felt like it wasn't 11 men playing a sport but our soldiers going into war with India. Give me a freakin' break, guys.

I've often mentioned on my blog how Pakistanis get all worked up when it comes to religion - well, there's one more thing that makes them that emotional - cricket. Cricket is religion in Pakistan. Cricket is also what brings all Pakistanis together. Support for a certain player has nothing to do with what part of the country he's from, but how well he plays his sport. I started waiting for 2011 years ago because that was the year we were going to host the World Cup.

So yes, 180 million hearts were broken when we were denied hosting rights, when two of our top bowlers were banned, when we lost the semi-final. Yes, it would have been easy to console ourselves had our team played like it was actually playing a big game, just the way it had performed all through the tournament. The heartache could've been a little more bearable had we seen our team strategize, field better, not given Umar Gul those overs, taken the powerplay earlier. But in retrospect, there's more reasons to celebrate than to be sad about. It's true I didn't watch the group matches because I wasn't expecting much from this team. But look where we got? We ended Australia's unbeaten run to reach the semis. The young team played some great cricket. Afridi became the highest wicket taker of the tournament. It was after a long time we saw Pakistan playing positive - there was no politics and the team was united under one captain. The stark reality is that lady luck was smiling upon Tendulkar that day and ignoring poor Gul. The stark reality also is that the match gave us many sleepless nights and got us excited and gave us something to look forward to. It is heartening to see that people are praising the team even after the loss. This shows that we are not that fickle after all. This shows our love for this game and our patriotism for this country. This shows we are one nation, after all.

Like I've said before, Afridi need not apologize. We love this team and we are so proud.

Green for life.

The Vitruvian Pathan by Komail Naqvi

Love As We Know It

One word describes how we've grown up thinking about love: Bollywood. Most of us don't want to admit it, but our idea of love is undoubtedly influenced by Indian cinema. What do people in love do? Well, according to Bollywood:

• They break into song and dance at unexpected times and locations. Complete with an orchestra, back-up dancers and costumes. In a white chiffon sari - in the rain or in the snow. Running between trees. 
• They don't realize they are in love through the entire three hours of the movie. Unless the heroine is getting married to another man and the hero decides to show up at the wedding with a 30 minute speech on how he has loved her since they were kids, playing cricket in their diapers. All the guests at the wedding get off their seats and start clapping; the groom is totally ignored. 
• They leave their families and elope. And then the heroine's dad sends gangsters after them, who beat the crap out of the hero and take the heroine with them. Dad then gets dear daughter married to his best friend's son. Dad's best friend turns out to be mafia boss at the end.
• They have several lives at their disposal. If god forbid the hero is killed during the first half of the movie, he will return after the interval - in another corner of the world, with a new name and a new hairdo. The heroine will find him in that corner of the world, without any issues.
• They break all boundaries of social status. Girl is rich; boy is poor. Girl drives around in Daddy's Mercedes with her girlfriends; boy works at a car workshop. Girl goes to get her Merc fixed; boy stands there in his shabby overalls. Their eyes meet. It is love at first sight. Girl leaves boy to marry rich guy to fulfill Daddy's wishes. Boy drinks his life away and becomes Devdas.

Is this really what people in love do? Or do they sit around listening to mushy music all day and watching lovey-dovey movies all night?

Like me.