Mumbai

India beats its archrival Pakistan in the semi-finals of the Cricket World Cup. On the sidelines, however, the policies of the two hostile nations are also the focus.

There are many gods in India. Today, though, the most important of them is not called Ganesh, Shiva, Vishnu or Lakshmi, but Sachin Tendulkar. He is wearing royal blue, a number 10 on his back and a leather hat that makes him look like Indiana Jones. Or should we say India Jones? “Cricket is our religion,” my colleague Sukhada Tatke tells me near the end of the seven-hour match. After yet another hour, India is the winner and will go up against Sri Lanka on Saturday at the finals of the World Cup. Today, on the day of semi-finals, the city is at a standstill. Nothing is moving; everyone is watching cricket.

What a sight, what a liberating feeling! No clogged streets, hardly any noise. Many people got the day off, some took the day off by simply not appearing at work. Even the police officers and beggars on the kerbside follow the match on portable radios. On television, the announcers are wearing the national jerseys, in interviews cricket superstars such as Mahendra Singh Dhoni say sentences like “Only one team can win.”

The semi-finals of the Cricket World Cup are an historic event; plainly the event of the year. The Indian government’s corruption scandal can wait. That new biography of Mahatma Gandhi that reveals he had a German lover? Who cares? It all can wait; there is more important news.

This time, the tussle between India and Pakistan is not about Kashmir, but cricket. At the sidelines it is also about politics. In this encounter the two states that were one until 1947 once again approach one another. For the first time since the 2008 terrorist attacks in Mumbai a Pakistani head of government has been invited to India. Before Pakistan’s Prime Minister Yousuf Raza Gilani takes his seat next to his Indian counterpart Manmohan Singh on the grandstand in the northern Indian city of Mohali, the two agreed that they would now push the peace talks along. It’s called “Cricket Diplomacy.”

My personal dilemma with the sport of cricket is that it takes too long. The rules, which are similar to those in baseball, slowly become clearer to me, but not entirely comprehensible. I am told that a short version of cricket was once introduced that only lasted three hours, but no one wanted to watch it. Which is why it takes a little longer here in what they call “one day cricket.” We cannot even spend the one day in one place. We follow the first few hours in the newsroom of the Times of India, then we head down to the nearby press club, where they have set up public viewing for journalists. They offer spicy chicken and Kingfisher beer. It seems that every three minutes there are commercials for soft drinks, large family cars and American athletic wear. At last, between the commercials, the men in blue win.

The nation that was only once world champion in 1983 is overjoyed at making it to the finals. Fireworks light up the night sky over Mumbai and the people dance in the streets. There is something like a convoy, but made up mostly of mopeds. There are celebrations on Marine Drive, the beach promenade where even on normal days without cricket mania the traffic flow breaks down. People honk their horns all the time as if India had reached the finals, but today it is at least the case. “Go, India, go,” the crowds shout. The finals will be held on Saturday in Mumbai. The United States has sent out travel warnings. The police presence in the city will be increased. Oh, but Ganesh will surely watch over me.