What Pakistanis can teach the world

Pakistan cricket is in the doldrums, but some former players are doing very well for themselves, travelling the world like the old wise wanderers of ancient tales, imparting knowledge and philosophy to the natives while drinking all their tea.

Javed Miandad has been teaching the Chinese how to bat. Wasim Akram has been teaching the Kolkatans how to bowl. Mushtaq Ahmed has been teaching the English how to grow beards.

The effectiveness of their mentoring is somewhat in doubt. I'm yet to hear of a single promising Chinese cricketer, the Kolkata Knight Riders didn't make the IPL semis, and Kevin Pietersen and Jimmy Anderson - despite their clear talent and strenuous efforts - can still only muster a few wisps of boyish bum fluff.

Yet our guys are still in demand, and I wish them good luck. (I particularly wish the Chinese a whole fortune-cookie bag worth of good luck in understanding what on earth Miandad is saying to them.) In fact, other ex-players, or players serving bans, or players between jobs, or indeed players between retirements, should also test the "Those who can, do; those who can't, teach" mantra.

Mohammad Yousuf should give that Islamic televangelist Zakir Naik some much-needed healthy competition. Sure, Naik is a powerful public speaker, is fluent in several languages, is a qualified doctor, and can recite the holy scriptures at the snap of a finger. Yeah, but MoYo scored nine centuries in a single calendar year: call me biased but in my eyes that makes our bearded wonder the man who's closest to God.

Shoaib Malik could reinvent himself as the stud-muffin guru of the subcontinent. Neil Strauss, an American author, has helped shy guys and losers and cricket tragics across the world pick up women with his book The Game (which in the interests of research for this article, I read; twice). Malik could become Pakistan's version. Those lame men on motorbikes at traffic lights, with their empty, sleazy stares at the desi girls in nearby cars, would be transformed into smooth-talking ladykillers, and a thousand flowers would bloom. Or rather a thousand violent incidents, as said girls' drivers/brothers/fathers get out and start throwing punches.

Saqlain Mushtaq should stop teasing us and actually show the world his much talked-up teesra, and then teach it to young offspinners with a penchant for twisting their fingers and bending the rules.

Shoaib Akhtar should be wheeled out (literally) to schools and presented at the assembly to the kids as an endorsement of the need to "Just Say No". No to what? Erm, where do I begin? The smart kids will get it. No. Just, no.

I can see Sarfraz Nawaz infusing the fantasy novel genre with a new lease of life. Writers should go to him for sparks of inspiration. After all, so wild is his imagination and so fantastical his stories - which, indeed, often express deeper truths - that surely his ideas would even augment the wonderful worlds created by JK Rowling and Terry Pratchett.

And finally, Rana Naved-ul-Hasan. If he can grow those fresh locks of hair on the barren desert that used to be his bald head... well, if I was Mushtaq Ahmed, I'd really be looking for another job.