ALL of us are vulnerable when it comes to the occasional flash of hubris or full-blown grandiosity. Even the most reasonable can be dismissive of the other without a fair hearing, convinced for the moment that everyone else is talking rot. This much is natural, for perfection is not a trait attributable to human beings.

Hubris comes in many forms and retribution can be swift. Like Aamer Sohail hitting Venkatesh Prasad for a four and walking down the pitch to point out exactly where the ball had been dispatched, only to be bowled the very next ball. Or columnists, present company included, who’ve conned themselves into thinking that they really have something worthwhile to say, week after week. Nothing brings you thudding back to earth like eating a paan wrapped in your own words, little more than raddi in just two days.

It is morale-boosting to think that what goes round comes round but some, sadly, never get their comeuppance, at least not in this world. The promise of deliverance in the hereafter struggles to match the joy of instant gratification, and so live we must with the con artists, ego maniacs and two-bit social climbers who never get a black eye in the here and now.

Solace may be found in reminding ourselves, now and again tomorrow, that we have not come to fight flesh and blood but spiritual wickedness in high and low places, like Marley said quoting a higher text. But spirituality, even for those so inclined, is comforting only to an extent in the concrete jungle. Most of life is in black and white, not in the wondrous hues of some sublime truth that is said to be out there but remains consistently out of grasp.

We must also suffer the know-it-alls, the people who are grandiose not just occasionally but have made superiority a way of life. The sort that use as many semicolons as possible because they think that a punctuation mark that is neither here nor there reflects deep thought, when in actual fact — believe me, I know everything — the contrived combination of the comma and the full stop is little more than a crutch for the convoluted who can’t string two related ideas together in one coherent sentence.

Then there are those who have wilfully fallen victim, head over heels, to what the wife and I like to call the ‘no, I agree’ syndrome. In meetings called to decide the agenda of the next meeting (people get paid for such nonsense), there will always be the one germ or bloodsucking tick who must differ come what may. Not that she or he will have anything novel to offer, no sir. Instead they will register their dissent and then proceed to paraphrase what was said earlier, as if something entirely new was being proposed. Thank you Dr Einstein, oh so contrary.

That said, very few among the citizenry suffer from what can be called the full-blown messiah complex. True, we have more than our fair share of fanatics who will swear on oath that they are on a mission from God and whose ideology calls for the death of all heathens who do not see eye to eye with the Taliban ‘truth’. These barbarians are swarming all over the tribal belt and have been lately throwing their weight about in Swat as well. But the fundos, dear Brutus, are not the immediate concern here.Ignore also the deranged of mind who, sitting more or less naked in the city centre, scoff at your limited wisdom as you try to engage them in conversation, and even throw a rock or two to press home the point — or drive the devil away, as the case may be. Particularly pathetic are the lunatics who revel in the delusion that there are messengers of the Almighty. Let it pass, for they are mad.

Less tolerable are the ostensibly sane, the emperors sans clothes, who have completely lost their grip on reality. Today we must suffer a man who believes, without an inkling of self-doubt, that he alone is the country’s saviour, the one and only true patriot. His horse is high, on what God alone knows, and he cannot be budged from his point of view. He has been sent, from Rawalpindi of all places, to save us from ourselves and will not desist until the bloody civilians see the light.

As a tailpiece (don’t often use that word for reasons of an incurably adolescent mind), I leave you with something I wrote for another publication a few years ago:

“Conflicting theories abound regarding the training, nutrition, natural behaviour and moral fibre of canis familiaris. On one primal point, however, there is no argument whatsoever: there is no democracy in the dog world. Pack animals that they are, canines willingly adhere to a rigid and almost feudal social order. A strict hierarchy temporarily eliminates infighting and counter-productive power struggles, wasteful activities that are anything but conducive to survival and propagation…. Authority is rarely challenged. The dog world is dictatorial.

“[But nothing] is set in stone from now to eternity. Prolonged periods of uninterrupted rule can end abruptly when a dog that was previously subordinate, if not downright subservient, decides to go for the kill. In the wild it may be a case of the leader turning feeble or simply becoming weary of the pressures that are part and parcel of being top dog. In such circumstances, a potent subordinate sniffs out a window of opportunity and may decide to stage a coup. If the top dog doesn’t slink away on its own, a fatal battle ensues.”

No such pressures or power struggles for the congenitally meek. Stripped of my fundamental rights years ago by the home department, I’m perfectly content with my bottom-of-the-pack status, at least within the confines of the humble abode. Regular meals, a tummy rub here, an ear scratch there, and life is good. One paw out of the flat, though, and it’s a different story altogether.

Enough said, for now.

imalik@dawn.com

It was a small item which carried big news. The modus operandi — spin of the coin — adopted by Dr Nasim Ashraf recently to induct a regional representative in the newly established PCB Governing Board has raised quite a few eyebrows in cricketing circles.

Amir Hayat Khan Rokri, president, Lahore Region, beat his Sialkot counterpart to earn a seat in the 15-member Governing Board after the PCB chairman, in a surprising move, opted to toss up a coin to elect one of the two candidates for the job.

The followers of the game have scoffed at this non-serious approach from a top official of the country which has clearly shown the PCB working in a poor light.

According to the critics, the already inducted 14 members of the Governing Board should have voted for Amir and Naeem in the first meeting on Nov 9 or the two gentlemen could have shared the term. But it was reduced to a spin of the coin.

As for Rokri’s eligibility for the job, it is also very much in doubt since he is holding another important portfolio, that of secretary Pakistan Badminton Federation (PBF). His candidature for the PCB post, therefore, is against the norms of the much talked about sports policy.

The Pakistan Olympic Association (POA), which governs the PBF, also appears least bothered about Rokri’s election. Apparently, the POA has compromised on principles of the sports policy because the Olympic body itself continues to be dominated by a clan of old hands who clearly lack motivation and direction.

Coming back to the PCB, the people connected with the game heaved a sigh of relief after PCB Patron-in-Chief, General Pervez Musharraf, approved the constitution and formed a Governing Board to run the affairs recently.

The eight-year reign of adhocism began in the PCB exactly a month after Pakistan team’s failure in the World Cup final played at Lord’s on June 20, 1999. It was a spineless display by Pakistan against Australia on that fateful day and the national cricket scene has been in shambles eversince.

The eight-year period — plagued with controversies and debacles — saw six prominent personalities at the helm of the PCB affairs including Khalid Mahmood, Mujib-ur-Rehman, Dr Zafar Altaf, Tauqir Zia, Shaharyar M. Khan and Dr Nasim Ashraf. The ad hoc period was possibly the worst experienced by Pakistan cricket, mainly because there was no transparency in the board’s ranks and decisions were made on the whims and fancies of the officials.

Mujib took over the reins on July 21 after Khalid was shown the door following the ’99 World Cup loss. During his tenure, which lasted less than three months, Mujib ran the PCB like his privately-owned Redco company, taking decisions one day and going back on them the other.

His tenure was followed by that of Dr. Zafar Altaf who remained in office for only two months.

Then came Lt Gen Tauqir Zia who occupied the vital post for almost four years before quitting on Dec 1, 2003, citing domestic engagements.

However, Tauqir’s departure was preceded by a row over telecast rights during the Pakistan-New Zealand home series which was an aftermath of awarding the TV rights to a private channel by the board for the first time ever. The first ODI — which Pakistan won by three wickets at Lahore on Nov 29 — could not go on air and that brought the curtains down on the Tauqir era.

Seasoned diplomat Shaharyar M. Khan succeeded Tauqir on Dec 9, 2003. He also enjoyed a fairly long term of three years in the office before another ugly saga at The Oval caused his sudden ouster from the PCB.

The incumbent chairman, Dr Ashraf, who assumed charge a year back, has now been given a fresh term of three-years by the Board’s patron-in-chief.

Though end of adhocism augurs well for the game in the country, things have to start afresh and the mess needs to be cleaned up.

For this to come about, the PCB chief will have to prove his credentials as a tough, clear thinking administrator and that might pave the way for the extension of his tenure. Under the constitution, he can contest yet another three-year term after the completion of his current one. Whether it is also decided on a spin of a coin remains to be seen.