A son recalls the highs that Bangladesh cricket gave him and his father
Zeeshan Mahmud23-Aug-2014
– Alan Watts
Cricket transcends from being just a sport when it ends up building a bond between father and son. Both of us are completely different people: He prays five times a day, while I am agnostic. He keeps fit, and me? Well, I am just fat. He prefers formal attire; while I like white t-shirts and jeans. He graduated with a Masters in Public Administration and I am a college dropout. He has travelled to at least 40 countries while I get my fill of the world by collecting stamps. We share the same genes but we are two different souls. But, as Steve Jobs said, it is only when you reflect back upon your life and when you connect the dots that you begin to see patterns.Our story begins in South Africa. Like every kid, my mind ran amok with what I wanted to be when I grew up. One day it was a 6’4″ renaissance man from Harvard, or a magician like David Copperfield. But I desperately wanted to be a cricketer and never got the support from , as I call him. Bapi worked at the embassy and he would urge me to focus on studies, often highlighting Anil Kumble’s engineering degree. So when I left him for the US, I wept like a little infant.I followed the game via Cricinfo before the era of Sopcast. Naturally when Bangladesh pulled off a stunner – controversy or not – I was ecstatic. Then one day I travelled to South Africa to meet Bapi. We roamed here and there, sometimes to Italy or Egypt or Zimbabwe bordering Zambia in a river boat cruise and Windhoek. We visited a Bangladeshi friend’s house and as chance would have it, they had the VHS tape of the Pakistan-Bangladesh match. “!” My Bapi could not ontain his delight, which roughly translates to “Put it on! Put it on!”Although I do not remember much of it, but I do recall someone telling me how fat I was. But that moment is one of the most cherished of my life. It began my bond with Bapi.I had to return to California soon after the South Africa trip, but I occasionally went back to Bangladesh to visit Bapi, who moved back to the country. Then one day he had to visit India for work but I got to tag along. So after visiting Humayun’s tomb, Agra Fort and Qutb Minar and enjoying the local flavour, I returned to hotel.Bapi took one bed and I took the other with Robert Ludlum’s on my lap. As he flipped the channel, highlights of Mohammad Ashraful’s innings came up. This was years after I ran away from home, but I can still recall how Bapi said the adrenaline from watching that game left him unable to sleep.I was hospitalised for mental instability, but things did get better after I was discharged. Bapi and I grew fonder of each other. Bapi, by the way likes his records. So when highlights of the Test came on television and Mashrafe got Wasim Jaffer with a jaffer off the first ball of the match, Bapi was up on his feet. “Bowled!” he cried out. “May be Bangladesh won this that is why they are showing it,” he said. I chuckled. It was actually drawn as I would later find out.These are some of my most cherished moments. I roll them over and over in my head. Recently, I was back in hospital for being danger to myself and all I could think about was if my stay would end before the West Indies-Bangladesh ODIs start.After I got out, I called Bapi. After the initial exchanges, he asked, “Do you write for ESPN?””You know how hard it is to get published,” I replied.”Oh” he said. “I love you.”I did not reply. In our culture it is a bit awkward to say something like that. But, I am saying it now: I love you too, Bapi.If you have a submission for Inbox, send it to us here, with “Inbox” in the subject line
