My daughter stirs in my arms at 3 a.m., right when a CPL game is winding down in Trinidad, and I hold her closer—she doesn’t know yet that the heat across the ocean is someone else’s morning, and that the money in these leagues still flows from where the sun never sets on parched fields. The commentators call it a “global game,” but I check the numbers: one league pays a player in a single game what a district cricketer in Bengal earns in a decade. We trade our sleep for their daylight, and call it entertainment, as if that makes the exchange fair.
#cpl#urdushayari
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