Stand up for the Champions

Written by- Hiba Anis . A1G1

Sometimes you write not because you want to be read but because you have so much to vent and rant about, that you feel a compulsion to let the words take their own accord and break the barrier of silence. So everything I will write is probably already written, spoken, heard or felt. And at the cost of sounding truly cliched I will still write. I will write because I have been touched beyond words by a man’s apology to his nation. We have seen politicians and leaders defaming the country shamelessly, making irreversible mistakes, damaging the country’s pride over and over again, humiliating us as a nation without an ounce of repentance, and yet, there he stood in the hostile grounds of India, tall and proud apologizing with such simplicity. It does something to your heart, you feel a lump in your throat, despite being plagued with decades of cynicism and bitterness. We didn’t know how it feels to be wronged and be apologized to, as everyone has always taken it as their birth right to use, abuse and bruise us, crippling us financially, emotionally and psychologically.

Source: Internet

The world will never understand how we can be so passionate about a game of cricket, because they will never know what it feels like to constantly live in the shadow of fear, fear of life, hunger, theft, poverty, injustice, crime etc. When there are multiple faces of adversity, all uglier than the other, we grasp the slightest trace of joy and clutch it ever so tightly. This was our joy, the shared joy of the nation, the binding factor. What we all secretly, idealistically longed for and didnt achieve is that unity. So when the world says “its just cricket” we know better. When we see the entire country painted green, the sheer homogeneity is overwhelming for us beacuse we know we live amidst; cultural, ethnic, sectoral, social economic divides. When 180 million people, start living, breathing and chasing one dream and collectively prays for it, that alone is an unparalleled achievement for us. For two weeks no one in this country spoke about anything else, from my driver who kept playing the commentary in the car, to the waiter who served me lunch while catching quick glimpses of highlights of the match on the projector, from the random shopkeeper who tells me the score to my tailor who refuses to come to my house to collect my clothes on the day of the match, we all had one dream. 180 million hearts longed for that cup. All talks of politics and the wretched drone attacks, suicide bombings and Raymond Davis, target killings became inconsequential, the thrill and excitement of cricket had taken over, washed out all the negativity. It was our getaway.

Cricket was being played a 1000 miles away from home, and yet the whole nation was with those 11 men on that field, rooting for them and applauding them every step. The cup was not ours this year, so it didn’t come home, but our team will come home to a nation who stood united to cheer for them, putting all our differences behind. We were for once, Pakistanis and in that moment we would not have traded our identity for anything and anyone. Our chests swelled with pride for a team of cubs, led by a lion, fought like tigers in the tournament. They made us proud. Pride which was lost to us long time ago, they brought that back, they made us momentarily believe that revolutions and miracles and unity and faith are not as farfetched. The idealist, the patriot, the believer and the dreamer would find himself nodding to this despite himself. We are being accused of being petty. Yes this is petty, but when our joys are numbered and inconsequential to the world its upto us to stand by them and magnify them to greater levels. Its about time we start recognizing our heroes.

For us the sound of our National Anthem resonating in the stadium of Mohali where Shahid lala stood proud was a far more revered memory than winning or losing.