Ranjitsinjhi - Ranji to all cricket lovers - was an Indian prince who had a taste for cricket. He is revered as Asia's first proper batsman, but he was born in an era when India used to be a cricket wasteland and he ended up playing his cricket overseas. In 1888, he traveled to England and enrolled at Cambridge University.

He had talent, but his style was considered unorthodox and he kept getting overlooked for selection into the Cambridge side. Ranji's response was resolute. He hired England's Test stars - Richardson, Lockwood, Hearne and Hayward - to bowl at him in the nets. The style remained unorthodox, but his batting flourished.

As his ideas developed, Ranji was struck by the limitations of English batting technique. The clockwork method of straight bat, elbow up, and back-and-across footwork allowed good defense but left many scoring opportunities wasted.

Most puzzling to Ranji was how no one seemed to play shots behind square leg, in effect blocking one-quarter of the available scoring area. This occidental straight bat-elbow up stuff wasn't conducive to it, but if the ball was coming on the line of middle and leg, couldn't you just roll your wrists and deflect it? To Ranji it seemed the most natural thing in the world. He tried it in the nets and it came off beautifully. The leg glance - a quintessential wristy stroke - was born.

Ranji never played cricket for Asia, as his prime was long past when India finally attained Test status. But the batting ethos he founded has seen a great flowering in Asia and has come to be recognized as a characteristically Asian genre.

As with any art form, Asian batting poetry has its subtleties and variations. The basic elements of this style are high backlift, deft wrist movement, a God-given sense of timing, smooth and seamless transitioning of body weight, and a calm and unhurried disposition.

Today the leading exponent of this style is Mohammad Yousuf of Pakistan. India's V.V.S. Laxman and, to an extent, Sri Lanka's Marvan Atapattu are also respected practitioners, but Yousuf's phenomenal success consecrates him as the modern heir to Ranji.Of the various pleasant feelings evoked by Mohammad Yousuf's flowing strokeplay, an appeal to the esthetic impulse is the strongest. This is the hallmark of the batting poet, that when you watch him bat he moves your appreciation of art and artistic expression to become the dominant force in your mind. In Yousuf's case, this comes from his fluid motion, his sweet timing, and the elegance of his follow-through. Many can pierce the gap between extra-cover and mid-off, but few can do it with the grace of form and movement so distinctive of Mohammad Yousuf.

Just as Ghalib once famously conceded that a giant like Mir had preceded him in greatness, Yousuf will be the first to recognize that there have been other batting poets before him. No follower of the game will dispute the claims of Salim Malik, Zaheer Abbas and India's Mohammad Azharuddin to this tradition. That's another hallmark of the Asian batting poet - they are easily spotted, and you know one when you see one.

They have each had their particular strengths. Salim Malik was all calmness and fluidity; he had an ice-cool composure and when he swung his bat there was not a trace of jerk or hesitation. Azhar was a lot of wrist, probably the most wristy of all; where unattractive workmen like Steve Waugh and Allan Border hit boundaries through heft and grunt, Azhar did it with just a curl of the wrists.

Zaheer was a lot of wrist too - with a mere flick he could unleash double-hundred after double-hundred - but his true poetic genius was on another plane. Every artistic movement needs an uncompromising champion who is ahead of his time. For Asian batting poetry it has been Zaheer. We used to feel he lacked a fire in the belly because he would often throw away his wicket when the chips were down. But Zaheer's foremost commitment was always to the pursuit of his art, and narrow concerns like victory and defeat struggled to engage him.

Asian art, be it music, literature, dance or painting, distinguishes itself through ornamentation, beauty and mystique. Poetic expression through Asian batting is no different, and you would be hard pressed to find these artists outside Asia.

In modern times, the only bona fide non-Asian has been England's David Gower, who meets the basic criterion of esthetics being the most noticeable feature about his batting. There has been no one from New Zealand or South Africa, and the closest an Australian comes to it is probably in the person of Damien Martyn. West Indies did produce a stylist like Rohan Kanhai, but Kanhai's ancestors came from Asia.

Neville Cardus had understood long ago that the idea of Asian-ness is necessary to explain this marvel. Treated to several magnificent partnerships between Ranji and his longtime England and Sussex colleague C.B. Fry, Cardus was moved to ask "Who will ever forget those days, salt tang in the air, and the deck chairs full, and a stand in progress between Ranji and Fry? East and West twain for hours, the occult and the rational." Occult and the rational, indeed. If Cardus could have contrasted Mohammad Yousuf with, for example, Ricky Ponting, we can be sure he would have spoken exactly the same.

One is somewhat unsure whether the end of the Mideast Hospital, in Clifton, Karachi was noticed --and whether citizens realized that a hospital had died. Possibly because the Clifton underpass was coming up --and one of which was close to the hospital, it wasn’t really noticed what was happening. The hospital, which was there for almost thirty years, was being brought down brick by brick, blow by blow.

One Karachiite who saw workers at the site was rather naïve when he said the hospital was being expanded. But sooner than he and his friends had anticipated the hospital was gone and he was upset. Citizens want to know why there is a silence and ambiguity about what is the future of the vacant plot of land which greets people as they come out of the underpass. One news report says a hotel is to be built by an international chain, if this is true, it is disappointing.

Karachi has an unhappy record of losing parks, playgrounds and amenity plots, cinema houses also, to shopping plazas which symbolises the consumerism of this society. The issue of conversion of plots from residential to commercial is all over the city and citizens helplessly witness residential plots being turned into assorted commercial centres. This is in evidence all over the city to such an extent that at times a residential plot owner has to put up a sign “this house /plot is not for sale.’’

Not only Clifton residents, but generally Karachiites want to know what will happen to the hospital land. People in the neighbourhood speculate a shopping plaza is coming up in its place. Were another hospital built in its place, it would be in the larger interests of society. Karachi is growing as a city, and its medical needs are also expanding. It is obvious that this city needs more doctors and more medical facilities than what it has presently. Given the state of government hospitals, both with regard to their reputation and their reality, the private sector has to shoulder a large part of the responsibility. What kind of message is being conveyed by this city’s planners and decision makers if we begin to lose our hospitals to commercialism

I am told that in the medical circles there has been deep disappointment at Mideast’s demise. It served as a platform to several leading medical specialists, who had their consulting clinics there.

All that has gone and a huge plot of empty land stares people in the face. The hospital was a landmark and a point of reference in many ways. In lighter vein, when someone refers to the former hospital if one is searching for an address, it is invariably asked where is the hospital? And there is a familiar expression cynicism after this — with at least one individual remarking what else can you expect from a society that has become so commercial, why aren’t the environmentalists speaking out? he wonders.

I spoke to leading cardiologist Dr Azhar M.A. Faruqui, Executive Director of the National Institute of Cardiovascular Diseases about this situation who agreed that this was indeed something to worry about. He said it seemed society was indifferent to what was happening, on this front. He feels a hospital should be replaced with an even better hospital, even if it is private. And then we spoke of specific requirements of Karachi — in health sector. We spoke of the rising cost of medicare, which is also linked to scarcity and inadequacy factor vis-à-vis doctors and medical facilities. He also felt that conversion of an amenity plot into a commercial one could send green signals to others in this field--and other clinics could be lost to fast food outlets, for example. Another doctor termed the demise of Mideast Hospital sheer disaster for environment and society.

Let me refer to the news report which gave details of the proposed hotel for this site. It said the hotel would have 25 floors and four basements with enhanced, sophisticated security and privacy for guests. But which guests? tourists? They have stopped coming. Unless we are planning more Ideas related occasions, which are already making Karachiites scream for relief. Ask Gulshan-i-Iqbal residents of how they feel when their residential and commercial areas are closed for security reasons. Please take the exhibitions elsewhere say most residents in desperation.

I am sure there is an element of ethics that goes with all environmental planning, can someone please ensure that the sanctity of residential areas is upheld.