To go or not to go? Nobody has asked me, but I''m saying it anyway: Don''t go. Not now. Not even after May. And my words have nothing to do with the elections. It''s not about India Shining or India Fading. The hell with the Feel Good, Feel Bad factor, too. My concern has to do with just one thing — the safety and security of our boys. That''s it.
It''s all very well for officials and politicians to debate the issue from assorted safe-as-safe-can-be venues in India and Pakistan.
It''s fine to send a three-member fact-finding team to check out the arrangements across the border. It''s also fine for ex-cricketers and other sports personalities to pitch in with their recommendations. At the end of the day, it''s those chaps out there in the ‘maidan'', who have to take that difficult call. Who are we to say it''s cowardly for any of them to back out of the series? Or that India is sending the wrong signal to the General, especially at this delicate point when the peace initiative is finally taking off and taking a positive turn?
Political commentators can say what they want about the rightness and wrongness of the players decision. But at the end of the day, it is our boys who will be putting their lives on the line and risking everything. For what? I''ll tell you for what: for some absurd notion we call ‘nationalism''. Come on, guys. Get real. Let us delink cricket from jingoism.
It''s only a game. A fascinating one. A compelling one. A riveting one. Sure. No debate. But it isn''t war. Don''t convert it into one. When you deconstruct the mythology that surrounds the game, it isn''t hard to figure out the truth: India''s honour does not rest with 11 cricketers alone. India does not fail if they fail. Of course, we want them to win. We take pride in their victories on the home ground and overseas. But surely, we also see the game in some sort of perspective? Surely, we recognise the difference between losing in Lahore and losing in Siachin? We do, don''t we???
Sports arouse uncommon passion. Accepted. But it''s only in India and Pakistan that we fail (or refuse) to draw the line between losing on a cricket field and being thrashed on a battlefield. It is as if we can''t tell the difference. Our cricketers are sportsmen, not soldiers. Yes, they feel for their country. But not any more or any less than you and I do. These men just happen to excel in one particular game. That does not make them gladiators in an arena filled with blood-thirsty spectators.
People talk about the absurd amounts of money the boys earn via endorsements. That''s a separate issue. Let''s not confuse their modelling fees with the high-risk performance we demand in return. Or even exposing themselves to any kind of threat. Be honest. Would any of us, for whatever the amount of money, willingly go to a hostile country, knowing the chances of injury, even death, would be exceptionally high? Would any parent encourage a child to go compete in a situation that is potentially life-threatening?
The players are nothing more than well-paid athletes. It is we who have decided to cast them in the moulds of super patriots. The need to see them in this light, is our need. It may not coincide with theirs. Who are we then, to superimpose our emotional requirement on these unwilling men? Is all this fuss worth it? For whom?
The only thing at stake is money. Big money, nothing else. Whether it''s the multi-million dollar betting syndicate who''ll rake it in, or other interested parties who want to cash in on the mania, nobody is really concerned about other issues. Everybody stands to lose if the series is cancelled — TV channels, advertisers, organisers, sponsors, viewers, gamblers. If I were a player I would feel awfully sickened and disillusioned by the cold-bloodedness of it all. It isn''t about India''s honour or players'' lives at all. It is about bank balances and fat fees. Too sad! Too bad!