In Gujarat, a few years ago, some fortunate people were able to save their lives by changing their names to hide their religion. In Pakistan, at about the same time, people did the same thing for less desperate causes — like winning a cricket tournament.
Meet Mohammad Salim, or Ram Das, son of Lakshmi. Star player and coach of a cricket team of Hindus who want to win every 'tape-tennis' tournament in sight. A few years ago, 'Ram Das', in collusion with his friends at the Krishna Cricket Club, Multan went to Bahawalnagar to play the 'Diwali Cup'.
This is an annual 'tape-tennis' tournament (there are others, like the Holi cup and the Easter cup) that Pakistan's minority communities play among themselves. 'Tape-tennis' games are played with a tennis ball with scotch tape wound around it. The tournaments have two rules: teams can't play anyone who's graduated to leather ball cricket (the hard ball used in internationals and grade games); and no Muslim is allowed to participate.
But 'Ram Das' went anyway. He steered Krishna Cricket Club to the final and the team was on the verge of winning when rivals told the organisers that Ram Das wasn't a Hindu. The game was up. The tournament — and the Rs 250 entry fee paid by the club — was lost.
{{/usCountry}}But 'Ram Das' went anyway. He steered Krishna Cricket Club to the final and the team was on the verge of winning when rivals told the organisers that Ram Das wasn't a Hindu. The game was up. The tournament — and the Rs 250 entry fee paid by the club — was lost.
{{/usCountry}}Once used as a tool to enable the British to 'divide and rule', cricket continues to play that role in Pakistan, despite the efforts of the Mohammad Salims. In general, the smattering of Hindus and Christians in this country seem to play along. "The chances of them graduating to the Test level are very remote given both their very small numbers (1.5 per cent of Pakistan is Hindu) and that the caste system exists in its own twisted way even in Pakistan,” says social scientist Talat Aslam.
Result: they play among themselves.
It isn't that the minorities haven't been represented in the Pakistan national side. Anil Dalpat kept wickets for them in the 80s; Yousuf Youhana, a Christian (his name is a corruption of Joseph John) is a frontline batsman; and leg-spinner Danish Kaneria, who is in the Test side, is a Hindu, though from an affluent background, which helps.
Still, it's an uphill task. Pakistan cricket, like almost everything else here, is a pretty feudal set-up. Opportunities for the less privileged come in the form of largesse, regardless of talent. "People who are sweepers by caste are hardly welcome to the club," says Aslam. When they do, they are the exceptions that prove the rule.
What makes matters worse, is that a large chunks of the minority population can be found in Sindh, a province which is short of representation in the first place.
But the Krishna Cricket Club, its players, Balmiki Hindus (sweepers by caste, but not untouchables in this country) doesn't seem to care. It's team continues to play tape-tennis cricket, wherever an unoccupied pitch can be found.