Bengaluru, 1983.

"What's your room number?" Pakistani legendary batter Javed Miandad kept insisting to his opposing Indian bowler, Dilip Doshi. The reason? Miandad wanted to hit the ball so hard that it would go for a sixer and land in Doshi's hotel room.

Kolkata, 1999.

Massive crowd, high stakes. Pakistan's express pacer Shoaib Akhtar had just bowled one of India's batting greats, Rahul Dravid, and in walked another: Sachin Tendulkar. First ball—Akhtar charged in, full and fast, swinging in. Tendulkar misjudged it, the ball sneaked through, and boom—off-stump gone! For a second, there was complete silence in Eden Gardens. Even Akhtar appeared to be in disbelief. Tendulkar was stunned. And then—wild uproar!

It was Miandad's and later Akhtar's way of owning the game, their opponents, and everything else that mattered on a cricketing field.

But more than that, it was simply the order of the day in Pakistan cricket. This was just how Pakistanis played their brand of cricket.

• ***

I must admit: when my editor asked me to write about what's happening with Pakistan cricket, my immediate reaction was that an obituary would best fit the occasion.

Obituary may sound a bit mundane, given the craze for the sport in South Asia—a region of billions, the overwhelming majority of whom follow the game religiously.

So, a more fitting word to describe the decline would be marsiya, an Urdu term for an elegy—a lament for the dead, a poem of mourning, sometimes carrying religious connotations.

Perhaps cricket is the one thing that unites Pakistanis as much as their religion.

As a reader, you may wonder why we're suddenly talking about marsiyas, obituaries, and cricket in the same breath.

Because on Sunday, Pakistan got thrashed at the hands of its arch-rival India in an all-on-the-line Champions Trophy encounter in Dubai.

It was an important game for India—but even more so for Pakistan to keep their hopes alive in a tournament they were hosting—yet, for reasons rooted in politics, found themselves playing a "home" contest at a neutral venue.

To cut a long story short: Pakistan started its Champions Trophy campaign on February 19 and virtually ended it four days later, on February 23.

Hence, the need for a marsiya.

It was a dismal performance. The kind that hardcore Pakistani cricket fans had long feared but never truly wanted to believe—until the moment of reckoning hit them hard.

***

Miandad and Akhtar earned their reputations as street fighters—something even their fiercest opponents would attest to.

Compare that to Pakistan's present performances, and it certainly feels like a "terminal, slow decline".

Since 2022, Pakistan has been at its lowest in the game it once dominated. What's surprising—or perhaps more painful—is that they keep hitting new lows. So much so that even the country's meme game, once a coping mechanism for crushing defeats, has been taken over by a sense of mayoosi (hopelessness).

The 2023 Asia Cup—meant to be hosted solely by Pakistan—was yet again, for political reasons, played under a hybrid model with Sri Lanka as co-hosts. Pakistan failed to impress, barring a few oohs and aahs courtesy of their express pacers.

Shortly after, in India, on the biggest stage of limited-overs cricket, Pakistan's poor run continued with a first-round exit, including a humiliating, first-ever defeat to Afghanistan.

(For semantics, must add: Nothing to take away from Afghanistan's superior efforts in all facets of the game.)

But the misery didn't end there.

Another major cricket tournament—the fast and furious version of the gentleman's game—was reaching the shores of the Americas, both to promote the sport and explore new financial avenues.

While America is often touted as the land of opportunities, there were none on offer for a Pakistan side that had won the tournament in 2009 and played two finals in 2007 and 2022.

The Greenshirts, as Pakistan's team is often called, crashed out in the group stage after losses to India—who ultimately became champions—and the US.

Some local cricketing circles suggested that losing to the USA should have been a wake-up call. But was it really? Or was it just another chapter in a familiar pattern—Pakistan losing to second-string, lower-ranked, and associate teams more frequently than ever before?

A first-ever Test whitewash against Bangladesh followed soon after.

So, did Pakistan lose its mojo? What exactly is ailing Pakistan cricket so badly? Has the country stopped producing express pacers and street fighters like Miandad and Akhtar?

A closer look at the sport's management might offer some insights.

Since 2021, Pakistan has had four different chairmen for its cricket board. But these weren't just four individuals—each change meant a new selection committee, a new administrative setup for domestic cricket, and a new plan to restructure the sport.

What has this led to?

A revolving door of leadership, frequent team reshuffles, and at least six different players being upgraded and downgraded from captaincy and vice-captaincy—all within four years.

But through all of this, one thing remained constant: Pakistan kept hitting newer lows, leaving its millions of fans in despair. Not even memes could compensate for this zawaal (downfall).

Hence, this marsiya.