Ah, these young fellows on their superbikes, leaning so low you'd think they're about to kiss the tarmac—makes an old man's back ache just watching. I used to mend a little 100cc Rajdoot for my niece's husband, and I tell you, balancing that carburettor was more nerve-wracking than any last-lap duel. How can one man's tyre budget feed a whole Goan village for a month, and we call that sport? Show me the lap times in Rupees, na, that would be the real race.

We hear so much about Haryana’s medals, but I wonder about the accounting. Does any study show what portion of a family’s income goes into those akhara fees before the first medal is hung? My own pension barely covers my leaking roof; I cannot imagine the sacrifice. It must be a hard choice between a child’s chance and the family’s susegad.