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Journalism of Courage
The youngster with a green-painted face and a red nose supporting soda-bottle glasses screamed “chaal, chaal, chaal”. Or was it “chaar, chaar, chaar”? The accent was confusing but the sentiment wasn’t. Like others in green and red, he wanted his team to score boundaries. 122/4 in 30 overs wasn’t just slow and boring, it was getting scary for Bangladesh’s fans.(Full Coverage| Venues | Fixtures)
Afghanistan had bottled them up and were now reaching out for the cork. The “chaal” – or “chaar” – chants were now getting more frustrating, echoing in the stands at the Manuka Oval.
Out in the middle, a barely five-feet tall batsman with the looks of a teacher’s favourite student was facing a 6’ 6’’ pacer, whose flowing mane was the kind that would have a school-goer summoned to the principal’s office. If it were boxing, Mushfiqur Rahim vs Shapoor Zadran would have several categories of separation.
At Manuka Oval, they were equals.
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When the battle started, Rahim, fresh to crease, had no fluidity in his footwork whereas Zadran, flying in from 40 yards, was in perfect rhythm. Maybe it was the shouts of “chaal” that got Rahim going as he hit a stunning front-foot push through point. This was the first four that Zadran had conceded in the game. Rahim had de-mystified the best Afghanistan bowler, broken the shackles and made the red-nosed fan to push his glasses back in place. Now he needed his eyes, now he was finally watching. The Bangladesh innings’ U-turn had started with that Rahim “chaar” he was pleading for.
Along with the team’s elder, Sakib Al Hasan, Rahim would score 45 in the Powerplay overs and more than 7-an-over in the final 10. What looked like a losing total at one stage was now looking imposing. Afghanistan, while chasing the winning target of 268, seemed confused. They were dithering in choosing to play their naturally aggressive game or be calm as their first foreign coach, Andy Moles, had told them. They didn’t start well, they didn’t middle well and they ended up on the losing side. They were never in the game, finishing at 162 and losing their first-ever World Cup game by 105 runs.
Fans’ day out
On Wednesday, it wasn’t just about supporting their cricket team. It was about dancing like they do at festivals, playing the musical instruments their ancestors were fond of, speaking like they did at home and wearing clothes like they once wore. The World Cup match was an opportunity to flaunt their identity. It was a chance to be their own self.
This morning when the gates opened, Afghan men wearing ethnic turbans walked in. Their women wore shinning long skirts that seemed more apt for wedding than an ODI. Little girls with rose-pink cheeks had frocks with intricate and colourful embroidery. Rubbing shoulders with them were fans from the other side – the Papa, Mummy and Baby Tigers. The usual pride had the father leading the way holding a big stuffed and very fake-looking Tiger. The mother, typically, wore the Bangladesh cricket team T-shirt on a kurta with animal prints, and held a jumbo picnic basket in her hands. The little one lovingly clutched Hobbes. There were, too, grandparents in wheelchairs and newborns in prams.
The Afghanistan fans, though minority, made more noise. Early wickets would see them break into a traditional dance. Fathers, while dancing, would help their kids get the moves right. Pre-teen boys, born away from their fathers’ homeland, spoke with a thick Aussie twang. Often they would be corrected when they pronounced the names of Afghanistan’s players wrong. The group would run around the stadium with flags, shouting ‘Afghanistan Zindabad’. There were also young boys with ‘Jordan 23’ Tees and girls with ‘AFG’ written on their bare arms. Many of them would refuse to get videotaped. “You guys will put this on youtube,” they would say.
Behind the very crowded hill, the bar was to be deserted all day. Crowded hill, empty bar… it doesn’t feel right in Australia. Taking advantage of the vacant space, a Bangla family rolled out a thin carpet and spread out their lunch spread. Kebabs from casseroles and biryani straight from pressure-cookers would be served on cut-glass plates.
Post-lunch, after the children got another layer of sunscreen, the family moved to their seats. When they settled, they heard the “chaal” chant. When Rahim hit that all-important four, the family, but for the wife wearing full sleeves and her head covered, jumped out of their seats. Few balls later, Sakib hit a six, this time the wife too joined in. She kept jumping for most of the evening and also climbed the chair to wave to the Bangladesh team on the victory lap.
