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Tales From The Locker Room

India has clinched the test series against England—a feat as rare as seeing Himmeshbhai without his cap or Michael Jackson without a warrant. Victory in sport is a special feeling. The Incas, in fact, said that such a victorious feeling was second only to the rush they get during circumcision.

Let me go back 24 years. The scene is the western India swimming championship, where my sister was hell-bent on covering herself with glory. I was hell-bent on covering myself with Thumbs Up and potato chips, a feat that for me produces a bigger rush than even circumcision.

It was Group 1V, under 11 and the event was 25 metres backstroke. It’s a wrongly named event because you never really touch your back whilst performing the damn stroke. Anyhow, I won the event much to my parents’ delight. I won it on my own steam, due to the rigorous training I had undergone and primarily because there was no competitor.

The next event was another matter. The field had quadrupled like a nuclear explosion. We, four strong young boys were ready to take part in the 25 metres free style events. My 42-year-old father stood before me with a picture of a tiger. He had read somewhere that if you stared at a tiger’s picture, you imbibed its qualities and eventually became a tiger.

The whistle blew, I was leading the pack. However, five metres from the finishing line my costume gave way. I had two choices—glory with nudity or no glory with dignity. There’s no point telling you what happened after that. It suffices to say that my father gave away the picture of the tiger. Though someone did point out that tigers are known for just one thing—they never wear clothes!