This is an outrage. How can we be so quiet about losing to India? We should thoroughly investigate the debacle. We shouldn’t have lost that game--simply because we are meat eaters!

Thus, my first objection is based on certain disturbing but confirmed reports: The Pakistan team was served only vegetables during its stay in Mohali. That’s why Umar Gul looked disoriented, Mishbah was so slow and Afridi delayed taking the power play. And anyway, what good is power play to a vegetarian, no?

Reports coming from Mohali also state that the night before the game, Afridi and the boys were lured by certain Hindus posing as Muslims into going to a restaurant that only served vegetable thali. Can you imagine, our meat eating boys having veg thalis?

That’s why God did not listen to the prayers of 18 trillion meaty Pakistanis. Our current team should learn from great Pakistani players of yore, like Inzimamul Haq, Saeed Anwar and Mohammad Yusuf, who are these days running a successful chain of meat stores. They know where their roots lie: In the land of fat, male camels.

Even more disturbing were reports about the players’ discipline. Famous cricket-jihadist and journalist, Sangsar, told me that he found a dozen or so carrots in the mini-fridge in Afridi’s hotel room, while Umar Gul and Misbah were seen carrying a kaddu (pumpkin) in the hotel’s lobby. When Sangsar spotted them, they claimed that the pumpkin was actually a lamb which they, along with Wahab Riaz, were planning to eat, absolutely raw. But Sangsar is no fool. He knew the players were still high on the thali.

Devastated by the sight, Sangsar began to weep and told them that they were worse than Raymond Davis who at least ate meat. He also contacted the team’s manager, Waqar Yunus, who at the time was having a swim in the hotel’s not surprisingly eggplant shaped swimming pool.

‘Sir, your team has converted,’ Sangsar told him. ‘They are having vegetables! How can you expect them to play like manly Muslims tomorrow? How can you expect God to listen to the 18 zillion meaty Pakistanis when their cricket team is chewing bhindi and kaddu and mooli?’

Waqar tried to cool Sangsar down by telling him that these were just rumours and that the boys were sticking to their diet of total meat and in fact, the team had been travelling with its own stock of goats, cows and chicken. When Sangsar said that he’d seen some players chewing carrots and watching Indian films in their hotel rooms, Waqar calmed him down again by saying that the boys were only trying to understand the mindset of the Indian players, that’s all.

Convinced, Sangsar pleaded that the future of Kashmir, Afghanistan, Palestine, Bosnia, Sudan, Somalia, Libya, Bahrain and the Vatican were riding on the shoulders of a Pakistani victory. To this, Waqar said he would try his best and then ordered a chicken tikka for Sangsar. But Sangsar refused, saying he can’t have a tikka prepared by a non-Muslim. ‘Don’t worry,’ Waqar replied, ‘the tikka is from the team’s own stock of poultry. It is a doosra kind of tikka, prepared by our very own Saeed Ajmal.’

Swayed by Waqar’s assurances, Sangsar said that he hoped the Pakistan team after it won against India and then the world cup, would not celebrate victory by throwing carrots, potatoes and eggplants at each another, to which Waqar said: ‘Of course, not! We plan to do a victory lap of the stadium riding camels and fire AK-47s in the air. Then, God willing, we will conquer Delhi!’

Happy and content with what Waqar told him, Sangsar went back to his room. But, of course, Pakistan lost. They played like vegetarians! Even Gambhir, who usually looks as being lacking calcium, showed more teeth in his batting than the Pakistanis; whereas Ashish Nehra, who seems to be always suffering from iron deficiency, bowled faster than Umar Gul.

Devastated and heart-broken, Sangsar appeared on his TV channel and angrily asked the 18 gazillion meaty Pakistanis to go out and save their country’s honour by boycotting Indian films, TV soaps and, of course, by burning down Karachi’s famous vegetable market, the Sabzi Mandi. Alas, we still have some honour left in us.