Australia Built a "Babaristan," We Built a Narrative of Hate.

On one side of the world, in Australia a country known for its hostile crowds and aggressive cricket culture—they are literally carving out a safe space for our captain. They’ve named a section of their stadium "Babaristan." It’s a dedicated spot for Babar Azam fans to sit, cheer, and feel at home.

On the other side of the world, right here in Pakistan, we are busy calling him "Zimbabar."

Let that sink in for a second.

The Australians aren’t doing this out of charity. They are doing it because they know something that a lot of our local keyboard warriors refuse to accept: Babar Azam is a global brand.

Cricket Australia begged the PCB for NOCs (No Objection Certificates) for Babar and Shaheen. They didn’t just "allow" them to come; they requested them. Why? Because they know that one Instagram post from Babar gets more engagement than their entire team combined. They know that when Babar walks out to bat, the world watches. They see dollar signs, viewership, and class.

Yet, open any comment section on Pakistani social media, and what do you see? "He only scores against minnows," "He plays for himself," "He’s Zimbabar."

It’s exhausting, honestly.

The video I watched recently pointed out something heartbreaking. In a recent Test match, after Babar got out following a gritty 50, he walked off with tears in his eyes. He didn’t just look disappointed; he looked broken. That’s the toll this constant, unjust criticism takes on a human being.

We ignore the fact that he was the only batter averaging 50+ across all three formats for a long time. We ignore his hundreds in South Africa, England, and against Australia. We just wait for him to fail so we can copy-paste the same old tired insults.

The Australians have designated a "Babaristan" because they want to celebrate a legend while he is still playing. Maybe it’s time we learned a lesson from them.

We don’t need a designated stand in a stadium. We just need to give the guy the respect he’s earned. Before we know it, he’ll be gone, and we’ll be left wondering why we didn’t cherish him when we had the chance.

Let the Australians enjoy "Babaristan." But let’s make sure that here at home, we stop treating our hero like a villain.