Kamran Akmal had plenty on his mind ahead of the first Test © Getty Images

Slowly the facial familiarity began to unfurl – similar face, sharp nose, pocket-sized body. He was here to meet Mansoor Amjad, a promising legspinner, and disappeared in a flash since a friend was waiting for him downstairs. In one minute, though, walking from the lift to Amjad's room, he showed his mettle: "Of course, I play first-class cricket. For ZTBL. Ya, I am also a wicketkeeper. We both love keeping. Oh, you want to meet Kami? He's at a team meeting at the moment, but he maybe coming home in a few hours. Actually no, he may not. You see, our mother has had a heart operation and he is very close to her. So he will be in the hospital. Some valves in her heart were blocked. Inshallah all will be fine. You want to come home? Sure why not. Take down my number. Call me anytime. Mansooooor …."

Three days passed. I had tried calling Adnan several times. All I got was 'call diverted' and gave up. Two days before the Lahore Test, he calls back. "Ahsallummallekkum ji, Eid mubarak. You have to come home today. It is Eid and we will talk lots. Whenever. Six? Ok. Come to Model Colony and ask anyone for Kamran Akmal's house."

Getting to 54B, Model Colony requires one to go from a 100 feet main road to several rickety lanes, around 20 feet in width. Pakistan's latest star he may be, but he had continued staying in the same place where he was born and where he had played gully cricket. What had been a small house had been renovated, more levels added. Two posh cars stood outside. It was like finding a diamond amid the pebbles.

Adnan was dressed for the occasion – a spotless white salwar below a sparkling vest. The bedroom walls were decked with trophies, medals and photographs. Eid had caused a bustle and a couple of tots flitted in and out. Piping tea and delicious sweets were served. Mohammad Akmal, born in Hoshiapur and migrated to Lahore during partition, spoke about his seven sons – Afzal, Azhar, Irfan, Kamran, Adnan, Rahman and Umar. "Until Kamran, nobody had played cricket in our family. Now there are days when one of my sons is keeping wicket at the Gadaffi and the other at the adjacent NCA ground. It feels good to walk on the road in between."

Is he surprised about Kamran's outstanding success? "He always believed in Allah, keeps muttering Allah o Akbar while playing, it was bound to happen." Does he think it's a disadvantage? "I don't think this boy will fall into the trap of stardom. He knows what he's doing. Always been a mother's boy, listens to whatever she says. Whichever part of the world he's in, he will call twice a day." What does he make of Kamran's outstanding success? "He began playing in this 20 feet gully, with me constantly telling him not to hit against the walls and not to hit above a certain height. He was bound to succeed. No major coaching is needed for this game. It is very simple." How does it feel to know that his two sons are competing for the same spot? "Great. Hopefully they will give each other a tough fight. They play for opposing teams in first-class cricket and often have a go at each other." What does he think of the series? "We should be one country, it will benefit both."

Adnan once dismissed 11 batsmen in a first-class game, a Pakistan record. He also had five scalps in a game in last year's Twenty20 tournament, despite playing with a broken nose. A year back, he came perilously close to national selection and has treaded the periphery since. Do they discuss a lot about wicketkeeping? "We rarely meet. Both are constantly playing games. I couldn't even be there for his engagement. But we speak on the phone. He often calls to ask if I watched the match, whether he was keeping ok."

Just as I was about to leave, Kamran entered. He looked a bit pre-occupied but it was understandable considering his mother's situation and also considering that it was two days before a big series was about to start. He checked if we had been given refreshments, consented for photographs, some with his brothers, some with his dear ammi, and volunteered to drop me to a rickshaw, an offer which was politely turned down. As I walked away, I heard an agitated voice behind me: "Wait. Wait. I am going towards your hotel. I will drop you. I have to meet Zahid. You know, it is Eid …" It had to be Adnan. And the merry chatterring continued.