The atmosphere is a tensed one.
Everybody’s on tenterhooks.
There’s something costlier than life at stake – it’s the Pride of billions.
And there’s a tarot-reading bitch on this side and a shitty Shayar on the other and it’s already a WAR….
Yesterday was the day of conquests and defeats. The day of epic battles, on and off the ground, between two fierce arch-enemies of the world. The war, which wasn’t merely a clash of 11 athletes, but billions of people, who fought their counterparts with the bravery of Hussain, on twitter and facebook, and who prayed to a million and one Gods, and updated their status every two minutes, and replaced their profile pictures with the logo of the national teams. Jokes were being flung, profanity flew at its peak, accusations, trolls and memes crossing borders like missiles. It was the night of chaos and conflict, and whoever won would emerge as the ultimate champion.
Doesn’t that sound epic?
Fuck that. People, it was just a game, to be logical. I’m not saying this because India lost to Pakistan by 180 runs (that hurts, why don’t they exchange Kulbhushan Jadhav with Ravindra Jadeja) but because I was expecting (not hoping) such a turn.
Let me begin this by saying India has a billion cricket fanatics. Cricket is not just a game here, it’s a religion. And when the match is against this rival called Pakistan, temperatures are bound to go soaring like rockets. People are anxious and hopeful, and the evil media cashes in on their insecurity and aggravates the tension by multitudes.
So days before the big match, the stage was set up on every news channel. There were audiences holding flags, Shayars and poets, musicians and commentators, a chauvinist host who was as sure about his team’s win as MC Sharma about peacock’s asexuality, and the whole show focused merely on degrading each other to prove they were better. It was as pointless as Ekta Kapoor serials. The TRP whores would go on to any lengths to exploit the ignorant viewers. There was Yograj Singh, confident as fuck, and others, already celebrating India’s victory even though the game was two days away.
Social media was abuzz with Father-Son trolls, with prominent celebrities like Sehwag and Rishi Kapoor trolling Pakistanis brutally, some even ridiculing the poor English of the Pakistani captain. In a world where English is the parameter of competency, the Pakistanis were bullied way too much than they deserved. And as a famous theory in history goes, when exploitation reaches its zenith, a retaliation follows and ensures there’s a change. It was the day of change. The underdogs had to take the crown again.
All this only put insurmountable pressure on team India and it showed right from the second over of the game. Their performance was affected and the game slowly slid away from their hands. The tarot reading bitch had claimed that Rohit will emerge as the star performer and Virat will see a rise in performance. Rohit went on a 0 and Virat made 5. The batting order fell like ninepins and a majority of Indians turned to hockey. Rahul Kanwal started posting hockey stats and that only revealed the nature of Indian Media, as corrupt in character as the politicians.
It was so hyped up that it appeared to be a game of life and death. It didn’t have to be.
And lastly, there were fuckers letting crackers just after the match ended, celebrating Pakistan’s victory with a roar. Doesn’t matter if Pakistan was a deserving side, you as an Indian don’t have to CELEBRATE the defeat of India. We shouldn’t appreciate the brave at the cost of mocking our fallen ones.
Anyway, it was a sad day. I hope Indians stop mocking Pakistanis for trivial reasons and instead concentrate their energies to supporting team India in its highs and lows. Let the competition stay on field and stop being a chauvinist for God’s sake, for humanity will always be greater than patriotism and nationalism.