Salman Qadir, son of late Abdul Qadir-the great leg spinner of Pakistan, once told me that I could be a good batsman than a bowler. But, the unyielding me, who just wanted to bowl fast, told him about my least interest in batting. The only passion for which I had started cricket in my late twenties was my love for bowling.

Time flew…..

I was pouring effort in bowling. It was not working out for me. My pace did not improve. I was clicking 125 kph at max. The only thing that I discovered in my bowling was my late out-swing. It later proved lethal. But with meagre speed, it was not as effective as I wanted it to be. It was okay to bowl to club level batsmen, but first-class batsmen used to hit me big time with the old ball, getting little to no swing at all. Such beating always let me down. I felt useless and pondered as if I were wasting my prime time in cricket at an age when players are debuting for the National side. Should I reconcile with my studies again? O No! The study isn’t easy, lets stick to cricket for a bit; a deluge of thoughts came to me.

Meanwhile, I completed my first year of LLB from Punjab University. Two more years were left for my degree to be completed. My inner self was still not ready to pursue LLB. I had made a resolute resolve of becoming a professional cricketer like Misbah ul Haq. His story of starting cricket at a late age etched on my perplexed mind. I started giving more time to cricket. Playing in the university’s ground after the club and gyming the whole evening became my new normal. I was as fit as a horse. In fact, I was enjoying the zenith of my fitness. My bowling pace had improved. I was egoistically feeling superior in the club. Now, those were my days. I was enjoying every bit of it. I used to unsettle the batsmen after a quality duel in matches. My already impressed coach recognized my effective bowling. He offered me a big match that was mainly reserved for first-class players. A trepidatious vibe with a bit of elation took over me. With no self-belief, I faked my confidence. Match started. I was chosen to bowl the first over with the new ball. I bowled on the right spot and succeeded in scalping three wickets. But we lost the match.  Every team member was reprimanded by the coach in his own Punjabi style, but I was left unattended with no praise & no scold.

More time passed…..

The year was 2016. Coach called me and offered a tour to Malaysia to play against their emerging National side. With no second thought, I agreed delightfully.

The ground was Kinrara Oval in Puchong, Malaysia. We won the toss and elected to bowl first in the first night-T20 match. Being on the equator, the country exhibited unpredictable rain showers. After the rain had stopped, the match continued. The ball was getting the swing in a manner which I had never witnessed before. I lost control of my swing in the very first over. Three cover drives in a row by the batsman demoralized me. I was waiting for my next over. I regained my momentum and delivered to my team’s expectations. In the spell of four overs, I conceded 21 runs with getting 4 batsmen out. I replicated my performance in the next matches to come. Tour Finished. It was a healthy contest of 3-1. Getting the lion’s share of winnings, our team arrived Lahore. 

My tour’s performance kept my confidence to crescendo. I had got every right to be euphoric. I was aiming for first-class cricket. I started training intensely.

But perhaps, God had other plans for me

One day, the dream to step in the first-class cricket came to an end, when once during nets, while practising, my leg stumbled and I fell down like the house of cards.

Something bad happened….

So bad, that an athlete can only think of in his worst nightmare.

 What was it?…….

A Lower back injury….

 Players gathered around me and picked me up as if I were an injured soldier in a battlefield. Coach advised me not to join the club until I feel better. After resting a few days, I rejoined the club. Again, the same thing ensued.

This time I did not fell down. But my strength wiped out.

Now, I started taking it seriously. I went straight to the physiologist. He indicated the possibility of Sciatica. Until the MRI came, I was on painkillers. Once, the report came, I was happy that no nerve of mine was compressed and no disc was slipped.

After a pause of a few days, I resumed cricket. This time I changed my bowling action altogether. Until now, I had a slinging bowling action like Waqar Younis. Possibly, the faulty action rendered me injured.

The new action was not delivering the swing.

Ahhh……

Swing- the lethal weapon in my arsenal was long gone.

My bowling became ineffective…

Nobody coached me to change my faulty action in the first place. I was angry at my coach. He had me wasted. At the end what I got was a career-ruining injury.

I was at cross roads. LLB final year exams were looming.

Already, had I exhausted my three years in cricket. How could I leave it now?

So obstinate to work things out in my own way, I started batting. I recalled the wise words of my previous coach Salam Qadir and started working on my batting techniques. In no time I got matured. That day, I praised the cricketing insight and prowess of Sir Salman Qadir. I played matches and pilled up runs in a blasting fashion. Now, I was eagerly waiting for trials again.

But it ended up in farce…….

The newly-elected Imran khan’s government restructured the cricketing selection process. Senior district cricket was eliminated. All the opportunities for players, having aged above twenty, had been put to dungeons.

I was helpless yet not depressed.

That was the turning point. The mindset of, “To be or not to be”, ousted. I was at ease. Now, I could focus on my studies. I finished my degree and became a Lawyer.

Aye Ibn E Adam! Ek Teri Chahat Ha…..Aur Ek Meri Chahat Hai Per Hoga Wohi…..Jo Meri Chahat Hai Pas Agar Tu Ne Supard Kar Diya Apney Aap Ko Us K….Jo Meri Chahat Hai To Mein Bakhsh Doonga Tujhey Wo Bhi Jo Teri Chahat Hai…. Par Agar Tu Ne RuGardaani Ki Us Se Jo Meri Chahat Hai To Mein Thaka Doonga Tujh Ko Us Mein Jo Teri Chahat Hai Phir Ho Ga Wohi Jo Meri Chahat Hai.