Maybe we in India understand it more easily for like Pakistan, we are accustomed to finding a path in what seems a maze, we are familiar with chaos. When we begin a journey we do not always know how it will end but we know that it will. And we are conditioned to live with such uncertainty. The toilets might overflow occasionally on the train but the samosas might be much better than we anticipated.

But just as we expect people to understand us, so must we understand them. It is true that there is a war being fought not too far from Pakistan. It is true that some of the countries that we hope will play the Champions Trophy have troops fighting there; needlessly we might think, but that is the truth too. If I was an Australian cricketer and I read that my country had just shut down its consulates in Lahore and Karachi, I would be uneasy. You could tell me all you want but if I turned to my wife, or to my mother, or to my son, and they implored me not to go, if they said “must you?” I would be torn. I would ask myself if cricket was that important. And I know what I would do.

And so this is a time for understanding, not to enact another episode of us and them. Actually, correction. It was a time for understanding. That moment has long gone. Any longer, and the ICC will need magicians, not statesmen. Unless, of course, the idea has been to stretch it out so long that no alternative is feasible. This is now like a limited-overs game where the batting side, having lost early wickets, tries to bat out the overs and a time comes when the required run-rate becomes impossible to achieve. Sadly, it now looks like there is only one solution, er, possibility; play the tournament in Pakistan and play it with the teams that turn up.

... contd.