The reception was familiar,crowd greeted with a huge roar,the ring master’s entry..whose show they have come in numbers to watch..hands clapping,tongues chanting,hearts throbbing..waiting for the Khyber Rifle to unleash its ferocious scuds with tremendous BOOMS,to further pummel an already demoralised Indian attack.

And the beginning was really inauspicious, the master blaster started off by taking singles,followed by loud and prolonged boos  and to make matters worse, he ran out his best friend and the well set younis khan,on 199.

Crowd went silent.Younis didnt raise his head,didnt utter a word, just trugded off the the field dejectedly and the expression on his face said it all, not to speak of the expression on a speechless shaoaib akhtar in the dressing room..a commentator had the audacity of proclaiming an indian revival..maybe his voice was carried over down to the field of play and managed to enter the ears of the Khyber Rifle..as if he was waiting for a provocation like this, to open up, burst into a ball of flame and unleash his fecrocity over the hapless indians, to set lahore ablaze and light up millions of TV screens ,sending billions into an aura of admiration and fascination.

It was a watershed moment in the game. Because after that, all  hell broke loose,  floodgates of sixes and fours opened up..and for next hour or so, it was all raining sixes and fours and that rain tuned into a deluge in that harbhajan singh over, which not only ended harbhajan’s day’s work but also sunk india into a pacific of doom.

Pakistan amassed a staggering 110 runs, in just 60 balls, and for a few minutes everybody forgot it was a TEST match not some festival game going on.

Through his belligerent,aggresive,majestic,intimidating yet trademark show of firepower, Afridi not only batted India out of the game, but also set the perfect tone for the rest of the series.

How will the former turbanator will overcome this whipping?

How will kumble reconcile himself to the fact that he went for plenty?

How will the previously high flying,now shot down pathan be
able to muster up enough steam to get airborne again?

whether agarkar be able to bowl again in the series?

will the knee cap of yuvi will ever be in the same position again?

these are the questions which pakistanis asked from the indians and i dare say,over the course of next month ro so,indians wont be doing little except finding answers to these riddles..not to mentionthat today’s show was only the tip of the ice berg.

Salman missed out, Malik faltered softly,Inzi was lazy..what if all 3 of them also get their act toghether at faisalabad?

afridi may have sacrificed some animals on one of the previous three days..but he reserved his personal butcher’s skills for today..he sluaghtered the indians with such neatness and dexterity that even the most skillful of butchers would be proud of him today

Like a knife through butter, a bullet through a frail human flesh,clean as a whistle, he made Pakistan out run the indians at a pace,which cant even be emulated by Micheal Johnson.
 

It was the Afridi circus, the crowd wanted to see..

It was the display of fireworks every fan wants to witness..

It was a unique talent at its majestic and flowing best..

It was an artist at work, only that he was an artist expert at slaughtering bowlers, and the colours of carnage he imprinted with a forceful stick, on the walls of gaddafiand ofcourse in the hearts of his fans and on minds of the opposition,will not fade away for a long long time to come.

The writing was on the wall. The napoleans of  lahore and Faisalabad had met their waterloo at Karachi, that too really early in the decisive battle. A fiery pathan from Baroda had cut the opposition to size, by his very first swing of the sword. The front lines stood demolished, camp in disarray, nation’s hopes in tatters, destruction written on each wave of the breeze traversing through the field. Historians had already picked up their pens to write the obituary of a team of fighters, who went into the battle with high hopes,but were stung ruthlessly,and butchered mercilessly by a blood thirsty opposition.

But as every play has two acts, with each act having its own hero,world had seen the sanguinary genius of one of the knights..now it was time for the clock to take the opposite course. it was time for the tide to come to a halt, and then revert back.it was time to throw a few punches back, it was the time to launch a counter offensive, to wrest the initiative from an increasingly hostile and beligerent opposition. Indeed it was time, for the second act to be enacted, and it was time for the new hero to take centre stage.

While the first one had all the ingredients to make for a perfect knight, the second one looked anything but a cavalier. With his diminutive and thin frame,and a child like innocence scrolled all across his face..no body would have given him a chance at even pricking a balloon.

With all of his more heavyweight comrades, either knocked off or pinned into submission,he knew,if he had to salvage his precinct here, he had to come up with some miracle,in short he had the fight of his life on his hands.

But the last man standing, was calm,composed and confident.Totally unruffled by the gravity of the situation. after all, he had done it all before against the same opposition, against the same weapons and that too in their own back yard.If he weathered their storm in their own backyard, he can always stave off yet another charge, this time in his own home.

Few people can stand up and be counted in times of a rout, fewer still can actually make any impact, hardly a handful can turn the tide on their own, and put the dominating party on the back foot-that last guy standing, did all three.

No, this is not the story of a battle of crusades,  neither its from folklore. But this is what transpired on a cricket field.The last man standing, was not hercules, neither was he any napolean ,nor was he any Alexander. But he was our very own kamran Akmal.

He exploded like a dynamite, punch for punch,fire for fire..
with a breathtaking display of his vast array of dazzling and exquisite strokes, he showcased his unique alacrity with the willow,and threw up a spectacle which will remain imprinted on the minds of cricket lovers for a long time to come.Needless to say he will never forget his exploits on that sunday afternoon for the rest of his life.

Kamran’s meteoric rise over the last 12 months has been nothing less than phenomenal.What you have to say about a man, who has scored no less than 7 international centuries,
including 3 one day hundreds and four test match ones. He is as nifty behind the stumps as anyone. For me he is the true epitome of agility,vigilance,athleticismand enthusiasm behind the wickets, and a befitting personification of grace at the crease.

Through his exploits, which triggered a trademark Pakistani style rear guard fight back and may eventually prove fatal for the indians, he not only has stamped his authority on the opposition but also has announced his entry to the international arena and sounded a clear message, that he is here and he is here to stay.

When he smacked that wide ball towards the boundary to notch up yet another century, the reaction said it all.

We had just seen an amazing turn of events, an incredible fightback led by a cricketing prodigy gifted beyong belief by the Almightyand more importantly, we had seen the birth of a new generation super star. The sensational beginning of another golden chapter in the long yet illustrious annals of our glittering and glorious cricketing history

Lets round it all off, and let the celebrations erupt with the slogan

Kami zindabad

Pakistan paindabad _____