Bowling for harmony

On January 29, Irfan Pathan made history by a hat trick in the first over of the India-Pakistan test match. That very day I travelled to witness a cricket match in Karawada village, 120 km from Udaipur. The field, I found, was a leveled valley and a partly flattened hillside; it had inner and outer marked boundaries and a well-rolled pitch. The players were in long trousers and the witnessing crowd followed every ball as the bowlers thundered at what seemed 80 mph speed to the unpadded batsmen. Under an improvised tent for VIPs, was a table with a silver cup, a shield and 22 bronze statuettes of two sizes for winners and losers. I wondered whether any English village green could replicate the serious enthusiasm of a Rajasthan village.

Karawada is only 10 km from the Gujarat border. Of the 200 households, the majority are Muslims, besides a handful of Patels, Brahmins and some Advasis. In 8217;99, a Muslim had eloped with an Adivasi girl, which infuriated the Hindu community and seven Muslim homes were set ablaze. In 8217;02, at the height of the Gujarat tension, hundreds of Muslims took refuge from Vijaynagar and Himmatnagar and relations between the communities became fraught. It was then that Seva Mandir, an organisation working in 500 villages in Udaipur district, decided to take up the challenge of restoring communal harmony. A 8216;Urja Ghar8217; was established where the children of both communities could play games, watch TV, borrow books and celebrate religious functions. Seva Mandir then decided to promote village cricket. Expert advice was solicited from Ranveer Singh Rathore, the former umpire, and Madhusudan Singh Ranawat, a Mayo college cricketer. Local teenagers motor-biked to adjoining villages and persuaded them to participate in a tournament. An affiliation fee of Rs 200 was fixed to cover administrative expenditure: 32 village teams responded, including 10 from Gujarat. MCC rules were extrapolated but each side was restricted to 25 overs. The first match began on December 24 between 8216;Morning Cricket Club8217; and 8216;New Mastan Club8217;, both of Karawada. The final, which I attended, was between 8216;Rocky Club8217; and Chhani, a village 15 km away. Each team had strong village loyalty but selection showed a careful balance of batsmen, bowlers and all-rounders, regardless of religious background.

While the match was still on, I visited the Urja centre in two rooms rented from a Muslim Gulf returnee. I invited myself to tea with Ansarbhai Makrani, next door, who had just returned after performing the Haj. He was astounded at the transformation of relations between the communities. While conversing with him I got an urgent telephone that the match was over. Rocky Club had made 288 runs but Chhani folded up with only 117 runs in 20 overs. I returned post-haste. The prize-giving was truly ceremonial. Rewards were followed by garlands and speeches. Abdul Rashid was declared the man of the series; Pawan Mehta, the best bowler; and Surya Prakash the best wicket keeper. Nazir Mohammed, a Kuwait returnee and former up-sarpanch spontaneously supplemented the prizes financed by the Seva Mandir and the Karwada 8216;Famous World Vision8217;, with generous cash gifts for the awardees.

The resumption of India-Pakistan cricket series in 2004 had confounded pessimists. In Karawada, patient persuasion had overcome tensions percolating from Gujarat. The tournament has had its ripple effect in at least three adjoining panchayats. Foreign policy must, of course, be decided in New Delhi and Islamabad, but confidence building at the grassroots is a collateral imperative. The pluralist civilisational heritage of the subcontinent must be regained. To our decision makers, I would simply say, 8216;Learn from Karawada8217;.

The writer is a former foreign secretary