Nothing happened – An excerpt from Imran Khan’s diary

Dear diary,

It was the final of PSL-2 at Gaddafi Stadium in Lahore yesterday as Peshawar Zalmi took on Quetta Gladiators for the epic showdown. However, it proved to be a one-sided encounter as Zalmis didn’t let the Quetta lads to settle at all and secured a thumping 58-run victory to lift that glittering trophy.

Nothing happened. Honestly, nothing happened at all! No stampede, no fights because of poor administration, no injuries resulting from people pushing each other in long queues while attempting to get into the stadium, no aerial firing or pitch invasion following Peshawar’s triumph – absolutely nothing! It’s not that I’m for chaos and unrest, but if I say that matters were managed rather well, don’t you think it’d be—I don’t wish to say the word—hypocritical?

People actually came from all over the country to witness the game. I expressed my concerns that something bad might happen during the match but it has become rather evident that people heed no more to invaluable, life-saving suggestions from a far-sighted being, and tend to follow their own desires. Pakistanis really need to understand that, at times, in order to make revolutions a success, it’s not necessary to step out of your homes in relatively large numbers. You can play your part as much as you want to by staying within your living room, sitting on the comfortable couch and enjoying the game with your best buddies with some loud, rock music in the background to truly relish every boundary scored and wicket taken—this is exactly what I did.

Guess what? Jehangir made cheese pop-corn yesterday during the second innings. Though it took him two attempts to get the right outcome as he overcooked the bag during the first try, resulting in unbearable smoke spreading throughout the residence, it was totally worth the effort. The smoke, however, reminded me of Sheeda and his cigars. Sheeda, of course, stranded me and went to Lahore to watch the final all alone. That good-for-nothing, opportunistic Pindi boy! I haven’t been returning back his calls or replying to his texts since Saturday, and will probably carry on like this for a day or two just to make him realize of his treachery.

I didn’t entirely like the opening ceremony. I mean, the parachute part was good, but other than that, the performances were OK—and just why did Ali Zafar had so much surma in his eyes? It was a proud moment for me, however, when the crowd started to chant its heart out while Sethi was giving his speech. Hah! In your face, PSL Chairman. Bet you didn’t see that coming! Did you?

You know what? Reham was there too. When I saw pictures of her sitting in the stadium circulating in social media, I lauded my decision of not going to the final. Had I been there, I’m pretty sure Sethi would’ve arranged seats for me somewhere in the same media box where she was just to make me feel awkward throughout the whole game. That old freak! You never know the lengths he could go to avenge the 35-puncture rhetoric.

I guess it’s good to see everything ending up well—or is it? I think I should stick with my suggestion of having this final in Dubai. Though people showed up in large numbers and seemed to be happy with the development, I’m absolutely certain that they were petrified from within. What’s the point of having a cricket match if you’re scared all the time that something bad might happen at any moment? What if Quetta lost because its players didn’t have a sound sleep the other night due to the tremendous pressure on them for playing in such ominous circumstances? Just have a look at Sarfraz Ahmad’s face from the post-match presentation, it’ll tell you one hell of a story! These are some subtle aspects that these patwaris will never understand.

Oh, well. For a week or so, I expect bit of roasting from noonies who are utmost jubilant over organizing a trouble-free game of cricket in our own backyard. Things will get calm soon. I am quite certain that the Panama case will be ruled in our favor, and then we’ll see who gets to have the last laugh!

It’s 3:30 on the dial. I don’t think I’ll be able to get some shuteye tonight. Perhaps I should give a call to Qureshi to see if he’s up or not. If not, I’ll probably order more food.



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