‘Extra Cover’ is veteran journalist Pradeep Magazine’s column on the Men’s Cricket World Cup 2023.
As the city of Ahmedabad, the nerve centre of Hindu-Muslim politics, gets ready to host Pakistan for a World Cup encounter, I am reminded of Zardar Khan. While I imagine, with apprehension, a mass of humanity (one lakh thirty thousand) watching the match at the Narendra Modi stadium and wonder what fate awaits us, my mind races back in time.
When I think of the complex India-Pakistan relationship, symbolised by a very passionate and turbulent cricketing rivalry dotted by many memorable moments, this tall, young, fair Pathan from Pakistan flashes through my mind. Young he no longer can be. Nearly 25 years have passed since a bunch of cricket writers met him in London during the 1999 World Cup, which England was hosting for the fourth time. Zardar was a taxi driver by profession, like thousands of Indians and Pakistanis living in the country of their former colonial masters are.
He was a proud, patriotic Pakistani who believed his country to be no less strong, cultured and civilised than India. There were many moments during our interaction when I felt he even believed his country to be superior to his neighbours’, torn apart during the horrific partition in 1947. Professional needs had tempered his conduct and he was more respectful of us than he may have liked to be.
As he ferried us in his taxi in London and many other match venues, we became friends. It was, perhaps, the best and the worst of times for the citizens of the two countries to befriend each other. The Kargil battle was at our doorsteps and, with each passing second, even threatening to engulf the two nations into a full-blown war. War was threatening to disrupt the India-Pakistan World Cup clash, scheduled for June 8 at Old Trafford in Manchester.
Those on the extreme right felt it was madness to play cricket with Pakistan when their army had engineered the war and killed our soldiers. The World Cup organisers feared violent clashes between the thousands of expats from the two nations who were going to fill the stadium.
Zardar had driven us to Manchester and he firmly believed the Pakistan army was in full control of the war and would emerge victorious. Somehow, and I would say it was the miracle of cricket and sports, the journalists from India and Zardar were still friends and were discussing the pros and cons of the match more than the war. Cricket had led to the forging of a bond which could transcend the negative baggage of a bitter past and rigid national boundaries. We could see in each other qualities and vulnerabilities common to all human beings. The very idea of the match getting cancelled was unacceptable to a cricket fan, no matter with which country his loyalty lay. Unlike war, which produces dead bodies, cricket produces harmless fours and sixes.
As a manifestation of camaraderie and friendship, we decided to travel to the ground in Zardar’s taxi with the flags of both India and Pakistan hoisted on the bonnet of the car. On the neutral territory of England, the two national flags adjacent to each other, unlike the hundreds that were waved that day inside and outside the ground, pleaded for peace and togetherness.
I have not been in touch with Zardar since the 1999 World Cup. What would he make of 2023 and the literal collapse of his own country, in economic and even cricketing terms? Unlike the fierce, determined and ferociously competitive Pakistani teams from the past, the current one seems in awe of the Indians. As someone put it, they treat their Indian counterparts with too much respect and seem even apologetic that they have to compete against them.
The formidable Indians, without doubt the favourites to win not only the Ahmedabad match but the World Cup itself, have multiplied their fanbase in India. They believe their team is invincible and this Pakistan team is like a sacrificial lamb, with Ahmedabad being the chosen venue. The thought of defeat never even brushes their mind. “India can never lose, that too in Ahmedabad,” the emphasis on Ahmedabad is very pronounced from this Indian fan when I seek his reaction to a possible Indian defeat. It is a city synonymous with Modi and it is obvious this invincibility flows down from their beloved leader.
I replace Zardar Khan in my imagination with the lone Pakistani, Mohammad Bashir, who is in India supporting his team. Pakistani journalists and citizens have not been issued visas by the Indian government so far. Bashir was because he is an American passport holder. He has been to every World Cup since 2007 and I visualise him in Ahmedabad, heading towards the stadium to watch the match. If he is very observant and aware of history, he would be very pleased to spot the emblem of the Indian Institute of Management (IIM), Ahmedabad, sporting a “stylized representation of an exquisitely crafted sandstone lattice (zali) window” that is taken from the design of the Sidi Saiyyed mosque built in the 16th century. What would thrill him even more is when he realises that Ahmedabad was built by a Muslim ruler, Ahmed Shah, in the 15th century and its name has not been changed by a government which abhors all Muslim rulers of the past.
What would be hard for him to comprehend is that in the Gujarati subconscious, the name of their city is not to be confused with Ahmed Shah. They call it Amdavad. It might be even harder for him to comprehend that in a stadium hosting the largest number of supporters in the history of this sport, there may not be a single spectator showing his affinity for the Pakistan team. If there are some, like there were many rooting for Pakistan when they played in Hyderabad, they better remain silent. I am not sure if it would be prudent for him to walk to the venue holding the Pakistani flag and wave it inside the stadium, as his safety and security could be at risk.
Pradeep Magazine is a cricket writer and the author of two books, Not Quite Cricket and the recently published Not Just Cricket, A Reporter’s Journey Through Modern India.