The inevitabiliy of shame

I feel cynical.
It was instinctively and helplessly that I made certain observations way back in September about the Indian tour to Pakistan (for I had been to Lahore myself), and expressed my concern over our ability to reciprocate what we received there.
I was not ever in the thick of things, nor was I where it mattered-India- to judge to what extent we showered our warmth on the visiting Pakistanis- team and fans. But from whatever I can see, hear and read, my fears were not unfounded.

I cringed when I heard the commentators talking about the bottles in Jamshedpur. And Delhi, yesetrday, was hopelessly putting off. This is the capital of the country, the seat of its political power, the location for a hotly cricket-vist by Pakistan's leader and the venue for the last ODI. Yet who seemed to care that irrespective of the last few weeks, a memorable last day could leave not justa good taste in the mouth but warmth in our hearts, and theirs.
"Oh, what sentimental bullshit," they would have said to this. Cheer, hospitality, sportsmanship,...warmth? Bah!
Let us sit silently as their batsmen play scintillating shots, moan dejectedly when bowlers take our prized wickets, throw bottles in a graceful trajectory towards their fielders.

While I have spoken often about offending grounds being banned from international cricket matches for a period of time, this goes beyond that anger. It is something that leaves me dejected, despairing and hopelessly frustrated. In fact, this post seems so pointless now- mere words, serving no more than to patchily express my disgust at my own countrymen.
Pakistan have come and Pakistan have gone, and I can only cherish my Lahore experiences even more.

thoughts @:
IndiaUncut