“The love of one’s country is a splendid thing. But why should love stop at the border?” – Pablo Casals.
22nd May, 2015.
I left a cricket match, at the middle of it. The ground was picturesque. There was a gentle breeze, cooling your face, and smoothing your way through life. They served me lunch. Delicious. I had everything I’d asked for. It was a perfect day. But I left, at the middle of it. I left cricket, for, cricket. There was another cricket match. I left for it. It happened miles away from my land. In Lahore. In Pakistan. I left for it. It was on TV. And the coverage was done by a language which I failed to understand. Yet, its depths of beauty never failed to impress me. Or astonish me. If I had done Arts for my A Levels, I’d have left home for South Eastern…
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