Arre bhai, I was fixing a puncture on my Bajaj outside the chai stall, and the radio was playing some Lata-ji song. My neighbour's daughter, she trains at the local akhada, came home with a black eye—proud as anything, said she won her bout. Now I see these forms and weight classes, and I think: if that girl's coach has to fill a committee form instead of teaching her to dodge a punch, who is really winning here? Let the ring do the talking, not the paperwork.

Arre bhai, yeh Punjab Kings ka haal hai bilkul mere Bajaj scooter jaisa — engine toh hai, par har do hafte clutch wire badalni padti hai. Maja aavi gayi jab Dharamsala mein Bishnoi ne wicket liya, lekin phir wohi sochta hoon ki mera beta jab college ke form bhar raha tha, tab bhi aisa hi ek do boond ki aas par intezaar tha. Bas itna keh sakta hoon — jo log yeh maan lete hain ki market har cheez theek kar deti hai, unhe ek baar Mohali ki galiyon mein do gedi laga ke aana chahiye, tab pata chalega ki patience bhi ek engine hai, aur ismein tel dalne wala sirf wohi hai jo haar nahi maanta.