The Pakistan team arrived in Hyderabad two weeks ago to a rousing reception at the airport. They’ll leave the city on Wednesday having resonated the same warmth, and pocketed two wins.

The second of those, on Tuesday night, was special. A strong crowd in the vicinity of 25,000 witnessed Pakistan scale the highest successful World Cup chase on a night of high-quality batting that brought four hundreds.

Around the time Mohammad Rizwan was approaching his century, shortly after limping and cramping in excruciating pain, the DJ got the crowd going with the familiar ‘Jeetega Bhai Jeetega‘ chants. They completed it with ‘Pakistan jeetega‘. The moment wasn’t lost upon anyone. Even Babar Azam, seated on the steps of their pavilion fixated on the action, allowed himself a chuckle. It was unlike anything.

Hostility towards the Pakistan team in Hyderabad? Not a chance. Fans came in from far and wide, some drove 850km from Bhopal, to watch ‘King Babar’ play. On their part, the Pakistan team acknowledged the adulation wholeheartedly.

As Rizwan arrived to train before toss time, the head curator told him “Rizwan, 200 here.” Rizwan remembered those words after seeing Pakistan home. Long after the rousing reception, he joined Shaheen Afridi towards the centre for photographs with every member of the ground staff, thanking them for their hard work.

“This afternoon as I entered the ground, the curator told me you need to score 200. I met him afterwards, we’d developed a bond, not just with him, but the people too. They did their duas (prayers) for us and we did the same for them.”

Rizwan termed the reception “unbelievable” and likened the atmosphere to playing in a full house back home. He used the word mohabbat (love/adulation) a fair few times to describe his feeling at the time. Only an hour earlier, he was slumping pitch side, yanking his gloves off and falling flat on the ground. It was only the adrenaline that kept him going. Some “magic liquid” later, he was back on his feet, slowly but surely razing the target, first with Saud Shakeel and then with Ifthikhar Ahmed.

“It felt like I was playing in Rawalpindi,” he said of the atmosphere. “The way the crowd gave us mohabbat, it was amazing. Not just to me and the Pakistan team, but even to the Sri Lankan team. I had great fun. I say Rawalpindi in terms of atmosphere because the noise levels were like that. Lahore is a bit bigger, so you have a lot many more people. It felt like a home match for us.”

Rizwan continued to field questions about the love and adulation. For a moment, you wondered if he’d ever tire answering variations of the same questions. He was asked if they’d visited Char Minaar, a famous 15th century monument in the old city, an area known for its colour, flavour and, of course, the food. He was asked where they’d been outside of the ground and what else they were up to.

Rizwan fielded it with patience, joked about forgetting the early parts of questions that seemed to go on and on, until he decided to anyway begin answering. “We went to….oh, well, that restaurant…Jewel something….no, not Char Minaar.”

By now, Rizwan suddenly remembered there was another part to the question he’d forgotten to answer. For a moment, it felt like this was the culmination of a giant wedding celebration with the guests leaving town after experiencing warmth and hospitality unmatched.

“Sawaal ka jawaab agar bhool gaye toh bata dijiyega. Chaar sawaal ho gaye mere khayaal se. (If I forget answering your question, remind me. You’ve asked me four questions, I think)” he laughed. Then came a cricket question. Rizwan was asked about what’s changed for him in ODI cricket. How he’s adapted to the No. 4 role and the adjustments he’s had to make.

“Nothing, I know just hard work,” he said, philosophically. “I believe in luck. When I started my innings today, the first edge that went for three, it went over the fielder’s head. It could’ve so easily gone to hand. I just believe in hard work and leave the rest to god. I haven’t done anything too different.

“When I was cramping, I was mindful of not playing a stupid shot at that moment. I’ve seen how difficult such situations can be for those who bat at No. 7 or No. 8. I’ve experienced it at the start of my career. I didn’t want to give his wicket away.”

What Rizwan gave to Hyderabad was a piece of his heart. He got back much more in return. As he walked off to a stream of selfie seekers, he obliged them one by one, before sipping on some more energy drink, slowly soaking in the calm of an empty stadium, giving one final dua with closed eyes to the venue that loved him before heading back into the change room one final time

It truly was unlike any other game in recent memory in India. Perhaps just a bit extra special, for the quality of batting, the chants, the colour, the atmosphere, and of course, the mohabbat.