Daily Times

They came, they saw and they conquered. Yes indeed, the Zimbabwe cricket team did just that. Whatever we might say of the quality of cricket played at Gaddafi Stadium between Pakistan and Zimbabwe, it was the spectators that won each match. Filled to capacity, thousands of men and women turned up to watch; they were spectators as well as participants. The vicinity of the stadium was a traffic nightmare on game days and so were the security measures. In spite of this, cricket fans and Lahorites took it all in with equanimity. Considering the trouble people had to go through, expressions of indignation were rather muted.

Watching the crowds on television it was clear that all sorts of people had turned up and actually seemed to be enjoying the entire experience. Perhaps the most important thing about the public’s enthusiasm and participation in the cricket matches was the expression of a desire to have fun. Over the last decade, much of what used to be fun in Lahore has been lost, some to the mullah’s desires to see everybody in a state of fearful piety and the rest to the bureaucratic need to provide security. Yes, dear readers, you know where I am going: Basant! By banning Basant, the PML-N government gave in to the religious lobby and now in the name of public security refuse to allow Basant to be celebrated again.

It is a simple question: can a government that cannot assure that chemically coated and dangerous twine used for kite flying is neither manufactured nor sold, be expected to control the law and order situation and terrorist threats? Come on guys, you cannot control the production of a type of thread that is usually manufactured out in the open in full view of the public and you expect people to believe that you can actually control suicide bombers? I am sure that the amount of manpower used to provide security for the cricket matches was far more than what might be required to control any problem during Basant. The need to prevent kite flying obviously is due to fear of the mullahs and is definitely not about fear for public safety.

It is interesting to note that the rise of religious terrorism in Pakistan coincided with a simultaneous decrease in fun filled activities. Forty years ago, the people of Lahore were known for fun but were also as religiously devout as they are today. However, the emphasis on public piety had not become as excessive as it has now become. It is clearly more important these days to seem to be devout than to actually be full of heartfelt devotion in matters of faith. This excess of public piety has had two important side effects. First is of course that families now feel the need to literally force small children to become immersed in excessive religiosity and, second, public expressions of joy, even during religious festivals have become excessively muted.

My purpose today is not to go on a rant about this issue but one anecdote is worth mentioning to illustrate my point of view. Shortly after my return to Pakistan I started to work in a major public hospital in Lahore. One of my assistants was a bright young doctor who was, however, rather lacking in moral scruples. One day, during a discussion about children, he told me that he was making sure that his daughter memorised the Quran. When I asked him why he was so particular about it, he replied that if parents make their children memorise the Quran, the parents then are assured of heaven in the life hereafter! And we wonder why educated young people from middle-class backgrounds become religious fanatics. A good thing done for the wrong reason does not provide the same benefit it would otherwise.

My point, however, is that while we support religious devotion in the public sphere we must also support non-religious activities that provide a release from the problems of daily life. Yes, activities that produce laughter and joy. That is what cricket matches reminded me of: a time when we as families went out to do things together that were enjoyable. Today of course the only non-religious activity promoted by ‘believers’ is consumption of large amounts of food in public restaurants with obvious, unhealthy side effects. I realise that we cannot have cricket matches like that every week but as a child I remember small pleasures that were abundant. The snake charmer, the man with a pet monkey that did tricks, the dancing bear, the parrot that fired a gun, the circus, the acrobats and, of course, a plethora of public fairs. Even the commemorative gatherings for Sufi saints were an occasion for joy, singing and dancing, and lots of special food. Then there was the weekly movie that we went to see as a family. I wonder how many of our young people get a chance to participate in such public activities these days.

Modern social media, television, smart phones and computer/video games have all changed how we spend our free time. But more than 20,000 people turned up for every match and did that even though many of them were carrying smart phones and had access to social media. There is something invigorating and even enjoyable in a large number of people coming together in public places to participate in a joint activity. As was obvious to all those who watched the cricket matches, just being at the matches or even watching them on television made people feel more united. This sense of togetherness that comes from public participation in such activities is a vital precursor for unity of purpose that we as a country need so badly. If we can learn to laugh together and have fun together perhaps in time we will get over sectarian differences and learn to live together.

The author is a former editor of the Journal of Association of Pakistani descent Physicians of North America (APPNA)