Champ, A Rags To Riches Story

Copyright 2015 Rajesh Rao

Published by Rajesh Rao at Smashwords

Smashwords Edition License Notes

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your enjoyment only, then please return to Smashwords.com or your favorite retailer and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

Table of Contents

Acknowledgements

Prologue

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Acknowledgements

I wish to thank all of my friends who read the initial few chapters and gave me the thumbs up to go ahead and write this novel. I would like to thank also my sister, Sharmila who has been my constant source of inspiration. Thanks for the words of encouragement sister. I also wish to thank my dear departed parents who were a constant source of inspiration. I dedicate this novel to them. Also dedicated to many of my former colleagues, Shakti, Tushar, Rojell and my Facebook friends who have reviewed my book at different stages of its development.

In part, I would like to thank Jay Kowli for being my mentor and on whom I have loosely based a character in this novel. Special thanks to the many friends who also thought I wouldn’t complete this novel since they knew that I seldom took things to their logical end.

And last but not the least, I will never forget the role MY boxers and students of SIES College, Mumbai who have borne the brunt of my emotional outbursts over the last decade. I also give out my thanks to many a student from other colleges and the different teams that I have taken on tours. Thanks also mainly to Mr. Jaywant More, my coach in boxing and the combination of a butterfly and bee for us students of Kirti College. For the ‘music’ that he encouraged us to produce on the punching bag.

Chapter One

'You bastard, you have nothing else to do in your life but drink and ask me for money. Why don't you kill me for the last time? I would prefer to die once rather than dying like this piece by little piece every single day.'

'Hey catch that fucker. He has been evading arrest for a long time now. What the fuck does he think of the police that all of us are assholes? And that he can ride his luck to glory every time?'

'There is a contingent of cash going from the bank down the corner that is supposed to be a low profile transfer of some high level amount. What a windfall of a heist that can prove to be.'

These and many other such dialogues of abuse, frustration torture and misadventurous heists are an everyday occurrence in many of the slums that dot the landscape of big cities around the world. And hence they are also known as the breeding ground of many a criminals and losers, nay givers up in life. However, this is a tale, rather a saga of a boy who has seen all this but eventually, struggled and come out of the muck to emerge as a champion. A REAL CHAMPION.

Narendra Ramakant More was born to an in-and-out-of-job Ramakant Hari More, a lowly daily wage helper and a handcart puller. A typical day in this laborer’s life was getting up at the crack of dawn, going to the local liquor joint, get himself a quarter and then after guzzling it voraciously, go hunting for menial jobs.The same ritual would be repeated at the end of the day. Sometimes it would be pulling the handcart for a paltry ten bucks for a small errand to fifty bucks for a longer one. He was just thirty-nine. However, he already looked sixty. This was thanks to his constant and never ending love affair with the bottle and tobacco. He was married when he was of the right age- around 22 years of age. However, without any means to support himself, much less his future family. His family now consisted of his wife, Anandi; three daughters and a son who was born after much desperation. He was named Narendra, meaning king of men.

So before we even get into the nitty-gritty of being Narendra More, let us peek into his tiny one room tenement. In fact, it is nothing short of a hutment. The only thing that separates the structure from a regular hutment is that it is certified legal by the government. That after a harrowing eight years of struggle by the people staying there, illegally initially for seven years. Every now and then, they would be evacuated, their houses razed and then when the bulldozers left, the people would gather the shambles and again begin building their dwellings.

Things had come to such a head that there was a time when the locals started predicting when the municipality trucks would roll in and get to work destroying the colony. And where there is brain involved - albeit for guess work – there is an opportunity for speculation and industry and of course money. Jagtarsingh Chhota and Vardisingh Rathod, two friends saw this industry potential and starting operating a small betting center. They would start a small betting ring, collecting small amounts of money from the men folk and draw a wager. The odds were highest

with the best prediction. Of course, the dates were unpredictable and whether any of the bettors made any money or not, the two friends made tons of money. They had grown influential during the years. With the kind of money that was gambled that they masterminded a game plan for their business to flourish more. The plan was simple and many times effective. Get a mole in the municipality office and get the exact date of the raid by the squad for illegal structures. And later raise the minimum bet.

Of course, the ploy would not work all the time, since there were some hard to break officers who were happy with the pay that they got from the government, and who wanted to see themselves without any guilt or remorse in the mirror when they are naked in their bathrooms. And also pass on a legacy that will make their children proud to strut about in the society, even much long after they have themselves gone from the face of the earth.

Narendra or Naru to his mom alias Narya to his friends would watch all this and grow up to be a youth that would be influenced to someday get into this flourishing industry. After all, the two bosses of the gambling den made millions in the years that they had been operating the gambling operation. However, as they say, man proposes and God disposes. Things took a turn for the good one day when he was a kid of ten. The events that followed turned his life upside down. His interpretation of life as he knew it until that point would change forever. Life for him was school, friends, class work and homework (which he and his peers never took seriously).

On one of her trips from the house where she worked, Anandi met with a minor accident. A black Mercedes took a wrong turn and crashed into her with a low impact. Not that the physical injuries were grave or serious. But the person who was the owner got out of the vehicle, angry at first and about to blurt out obscenities for not looking while crossing, went soft on his words when he saw it was Anandi. After all, she was his maidservant.

He took her in the car to his palatial flat, bandaged her wounds and gave her something to drink so that she can get her bearings together. She was completely taken aback by all this show of sympathy. Later, she was dropped off at her house and told to take rest for a couple of days and not report for work. She just could not believe her good luck. Anandi was besotted with life. Her perception about life and the way it unfolded every day in the shanty colony would change --- for now. Anandi was very happy and now she was admired and envied by the local women just because her employer dropped her off in the colony in 'that big black car'. After all, in all her twenty-seven years of poverty stricken and uneventful life, this was the best moment and she was intoxicated by it. Her intoxication was even more than the quarter of country liquor that her husband consumed on a daily basis.

After a couple of days of rest, she was raring to get back to Nashville Apartments where her boss stayed. He was a man of fifty, a widower who lost his wife to a freak accident when he and his wife were coming back from a high profile, page three type of a party hosted by a social butterfly, hoping for the media mileage that everybody craves so much. After the party, Mr. and Mrs. Dubash Engineer, the proud owners of a multi-faceted corporation that had its fingers in such big pies as shipping, travel and hoping to start a domestic airline business, which of course would spread its wings to the international skies. However, if what we planned were all worked out, we would have all considered ourselves to be HIM. Moreover, he being the great leveler brought Mr. Engineer right down on the ground.

On their way back from the party of the social butterfly who was intent on launching a fashion pageant and what not, to get into the multimillion dollar fashion industry business, obviously getting Mr. Engineer to be involved in the capacity of the financier. Of course, the couple was happy that they would have their fingers in one more pie that they had never ventured into before. Maybe it was the high-end liquor or mere carelessness or even fate that on that day, Mrs. Angelica Dubash Engineer just about closed the passenger side door of her Metallic Grey Mercedes Benz S series. Surprisingly, the indicator didn't flash on the driver's panel which suggested an open door. Then, before they knew it, they were heading out to the Mumbai Pune Expressway. As it is, the expressway is never too clogged with traffic. And that too at 2am, there was hardly a car a kilometer ahead or behind them. Dubash, normally a quiet and subdued person got a particular rush of adrenaline and looking wryly at Angelica, took her hand and laying it on the gearstick, put it into overdrive. Within the blink of an eye, the speedometer was showing a speed of 200 km/h. A smooth ride thanks to ingenious German technology and love and confidence were the perfect ingredients for a lovely romantic drive, which normally would take just under three hours from Nariman Point to Koregaon Park would take forever on this particular trip.

Just as they exited the Food Plaza, where they stopped for a quick bite once in a while, were nearly knocked off by a Volvo coming from behind but it just sped by. On getting out of the car and examining the car he loved as much as his wife, he started to rev the engine and pursued the bus that was taking a load of passengers to Goa. He wouldn't have to follow the bus right to Goa or even Pune, he was easily gaining on the bus and seeing that he was really gaining on the bastard, he simply stepped on the gas for just this once and all the while angered at having his mood spoilt. As he neared the bus, he started honking continuously and signaling to the driver of the bus to stop.

However, even when the bus driver was readying to pull over, in spite of a warning of 'DO NOT STOP ON THE EXPRESSWAY" displayed every hundred or so meters, Dubash just overtook the bus and in a rash moment banged into the Volvo giant, which instantly- and mysteriously- rendered the passenger side door open and flung Angelica outside, tearing her from the loosely strung seat belt. In a flash, Dubash's face changed from contortions of anger to surprise to shock and then…. Silence. A silence so sharp that he just kept staring at the half naked body and smashed-in face of his wife, whom he so loved and worshipped. This was a silence that would characterize this man's persona for the years to come.

Since that fateful day five years ago, he was not his normal self. He had just retreated into his shell. Business was fine and in spite of an impending slowdown in the markets worldwide, he continued the business, even without laying off people in his companies. God was kind to him, in a way. However, twists of fate are not things that can be predicted by fortune tellers or even the best astrologers in the world. What occurred in the week to follow would put Dubash in the news. Every newspaper, television channel, in fact even bloggers wanted to jump on the bandwagon.

The week following her recovery, Anandi was back to work. A place she always enjoyed coming to everyday. In fact, she just wanted to work there all her life. It was not the money that she got. A princely 2000 bucks – of which she declared just 1000 to her husband in connivance with the mistress of the house. The rest of the money was put in many savings schemes and low premium insurance products, thanks to Anjali madam. That is what Anandi called her mistress. However, even now, when Anjali madam was not around, she was still being paid the same amount, the same savings, et al.

Chapter Two

Dubash was not really in the mood for work that day. And uncharacteristic of him, he hit the bar right in the morning. Downing a couple of Johnnie Walkers – on the rocks – he saw that many of the servants had not turned up. Later it dawned on him that many of them were on leave since it was Diwali – the festival of lights. He just resigned to the fact that it was yet another festival without his beloved by his side. Just then, he heard the opening of the front door and Ramu, the oldest of the staff and as dedicated a person as Anandi was heard happily chatting with someone who just entered. On looking out, he saw that Anandi was back. She was

fit as a fiddle. Wearing a blue sari and an unusual style of sensuously fitted blouse that had a low cut that exposed the cleavage of her full breasts just enough to make a man weak in his knees. Maybe Angelica had passed it on to her.

What surprised Dubash was the fact that she had traveled past the shanty colony and the walk after that without a hitch. Even the normal hoodlums and other loose characters had failed to notice this exquisite sculpture. Of course, Ramakant would be too drunk to notice it or maybe he always eyed her with a lustful gaze. So, he wouldn’t notice the difference. In fact, the reason that nobody had noticed the features that Dubash was going over himself admiring was that she had covered herself with a shawl, which she had apparently folded and kept in the locker that was provided to the servants.

Now, call it fate or deliberate design that normally it was Ramu who would come to Dubash’s room and enquire what would the morning breakfast be. However, it was Anandi who walked to the room, knocked and entered. Dubash was spellbound and could just mumble “half fried on whole wheat”. He normally detested anything that is half done. But today, he ordered it just so that he knew that it would be Anandi who will come back with the breakfast. And Dubash wanted her to come back as soon as possible. He just couldn’t wait for more than ten minutes – the time taken for a half fried served with whole wheat bread to arrive. And he was right.

Just when she entered, Dubash was informed that Ramu would be gone for some time to run an errand that had skipped his mind and he would be a bit late in arriving. Acknowledging the same, the master of the house settled into his normal routine of polishing off the breakfast. However, there was a difference. Milk was replaced by Scotch on the rocks. Anandi was serving the breakfast where Dubash was sitting. Enquiring about her health and how she was recovering, nobody could comprehend what happened but Dubash just took Anandi’s hand and tugged at it. She was shocked at this behavior. However, she didn’t make it obvious that it bothered her.

A man when intoxicated by alcohol can behave in a way that is not his nature, quite the opposite. And that held true for Dubash the business magnate, devoted husband, lonely widower, socialites’ aspiration. The transformation of all this into a vicious, lust filled beast was swift and unprovoked. He just pulled Anandi to him and tore into her clothes. He ripped apart her clothes and with that her self-respect, her respect for him, his reputation, career and the admiration of

all around him.

He raped her violently, making her run for her life, nearly fully naked through the room, shrieking and crying to let her go. She had to get back to her children and her husband. That she was a dutiful wife and she was devoted to her family was on her mind even in this moment of wronged passion. In fact, she even implored Dubash that she was always in awe of him and Anjali Madam. And why was he doing this to her was a question that she couldn't even imagine, leave alone asking hims. No words, just action was forthcoming from the red eyed, intoxicated and unruly Dubash.

When a rape is committed, the rapist is acting out of anger or lustful glee of having a woman under his control and the sheer sadistic pleasure of hurting her body, mind and finally her soul. However, Dubash was not acting out his frustration. In fact, he had no reason to be frustrated with the way his life had been going. A multimillion-dollar business empire, the company of the elite in business, politics and with his charisma he had also won accolades (and not just protection) from the mafia. And many super models would be ready to die for a night with him in bed beside them. He was simply put, a man who just could not be the ogre that was acting out such a brutal attack on Anandi. In the end, everything was in disarray. The house, the room, Dubash’s reputation and of course Anandi’s life. She was left there in a heap. She could not bear to look up to anyone now. Moreover, she was not even crying.

The news was flashed across the world. Every tabloid, newspaper, television channel and even blogger communities converged on this drastic occurrence. It was so heavily covered that even the Nithari serial murder case would seem small. However, the strange thing is that none of the correspondents could get even a word out of neither the victim nor the perpetrator. This could have been a case that even the Judiciary of the country would have a tough time to judge. After all, Dubash Engineer was a devout Parsi, a soft-spoken and god-fearing person who was not just successful in earthly business and social ventures but also gave a lot back to the society. He did not give back to the society in the Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde way but there was a very sincere effort on his part – till this unfortunate thing happened.

Anandi was taken to a hospital where it was found that in the process of being raped, she had miscarried since she was a couple of months pregnant, with a male child. However, she herself

did not know it. In addition, her innards were badly injured since in his moment of blinding rage, he had pierced her with -- shards of glass. There was lot of blood loss. She was very weak physically. She was not thinking. Not of her honor, her husband, of Naru Bal or her three daughters. She was diagnosed with a severe damage to her brain, along with her fallopian tube and uterus. She was a vegetable now.

Chapter Three

“Aai… what happened to my aai. Where are you taking her. What has she done?” Lata the eldest daughter was pleading to the doctors when they were shifting her from the trauma ward to a psychiatric facility where she would be kept under observation and also treated for.

Narendra was back from school and oblivious to whatever had happened, called to his sister to give him tea so that he could finish it and go for his jaunts with his friends. After all, there is a great movie that is released in town. And Salim, the CD (and occasional drug) peddler has got a copy for the exclusive and free screening for the elite group of friends. Naru was a member of the elite group. However, Latatai was not around, nor were the other sisters to be seen. He just saw his father sitting crumpled in a corner. Sad and crestfallen. He was crestfallen not because he lost his wife and for his love for her. After all, a wife not earning money (because of her mental state) is as good as a dead one. Now he will have to take care of the responsibilities.

What will he do? Whom can he ask for help? How will he pay the fees of Naru’s school. He had decided that he would sell off the two little girls and let Lata be retained for making the food and tending to him and Naru. Or maybe he should just let Narya go and work like him. After all, he is not going to be a babu in a government office with a matric education.

Therefore, not just two but half a dozen lives were shattered in one moment of rash and thoughtless behavior. Naru never saw two of his sisters again. At least he had Latatai. She was now tai (elder sister) and aai (Mother) for him. Moreover, maybe baba (Father)? Ramakant came out of his sorrow and into his stupor from the very next week. Life was normal for him again. Lata resigned to her fate of cooking, cleaning and looking after NaruBal in addition to the daily wages she earned at the women’s co-operative where she found work… and solace.

On one of the normal routine home-school- friends- home routine, young Narendra chanced upon a poster that said ‘Come and watch the best of the boxers in an evening of raw talent and undiluted energy. Do you have it in you?’ An inquisitive child that he was, marched up to the person standing at the gate and asked him when will the show start?. “Any moment child. Would your mother not worry about you?”. “Run along, go home and tell your parents where you are and come back. The show will be there till 9 at night and then again tomorrow when there will be the finals”. Narendra started running towards his house. Reaching there, he threw his bag in a corner, freshened up, had a piece of roti (Indian Bread) and telling Lata tai not to worry, he will come by 9.30 pm, he bounded off gathering his gang.

They reached the place and the same person who had sent him home saw him and told the gang to take their seats and watch the action. It was a local boxing tournament held to encourage local talent. However, you had to join a boxing club, get trained and like a piece of gold come out of the furnace shining and without any flaws. The bouts were not so much talent as they were sheer energy. Narendra was enjoying every bit of the action. In fact, he was the noisiest of the crowd in cheering the boxers to hit each other.

Normally, when young minds are exposed to the game of boxing, or for that matter any contact sport, which in turn is glorified by Hollywood and Bollywood, they tend to follow the movies blindly and focus on just the glam of the sport without taking into consideration the grit and grime that one has to pass through to reach that ultimate goal of being put on a pedestal. However, Narendra did not go the cinematic way. Not that he couldn’t lay his hands on the movies. With Salim around, he would have easy access to any boxing based movies that he wanted to see. Narendra just developed a natural and unbridled passion for the game, which later would bring him untold wealth and fame. But, as of now, he would have to search for a gym that would teach him the skills that will make him another Ali or Tyson… or Narendra More!

Later that night, when he was at home he confided in Latatai that he wanted to join a boxing club. Sensing that there was something in the boy's enthusiasm for the game that she knew nothing of, she reluctantly gave him the go ahead. But then he was just a ten year old kid in a municipal school, which didn't have even a proper playing area, much less a playground. It was decided that she would hunt around for a 'place where they teach that fighting'. And so it was a

routine for Lata. She would finish her household chores, push Naru off to school and then set about searching the places where they teach boys the art of 'that game'. On one of her routine search trips, she came across a poster that displayed the caricature of a couple of boys 'fighting' and there was an address. Not thinking twice, she just tore off that poster and carried it home. When Naru came home that evening, she gave him broken cream biscuits. Seeing that he had been served something other than the usual tea and chapattis, he searched for a reason. But he couldn't guess what it was. Finally, Latatai showed him the poster and told him to get ready so that they can go and see the person whose name was mentioned on it. Happiness oozing from his whole being, he just couldn’t wait to go. Although cream biscuits are a hit with any kid, he just chomped on them hurriedly, had his tea and was ready to go.

It seemed like it would take forever to reach the place that he was even willing to kill to go. However, it seemed that all the traffic that was not there normally, was out on the roads that particular day. Also, on the way Lata met nearly ten of her friends en route there. Of course, he would not dare to restrain Latatai from meeting her friends since she used to hardly ever get a chance to leave the house with all the cleaning and washing to be done round the clock.

At long last, they finally made it to the address that was printed on the pamphlet. However, it seemed that destiny had gone against Naru since the front door was slammed shut. Crestfallen, they turned back. Just when they were ready to resign to fate, they heard voices. One of them shouting to many others. And then sounds that felt like frequent exhales from more than one person. Finally, they figured that there was one more way inside the gym and that was the normal entrance. It was then that they heaved a sigh of relief and Naru almost bolted inside wriggling his tiny hands from Latatai’s hand. On reaching inside, he saw the things that he wanted to use for a long time now.

Chapter Four

'Hey you idiot, can't you do anything right. It's been nearly three months but you are still just taking unconfident steps back and forth'.

'Do you really want to win medals or just buy them with your dad's influence?'

'Yes yes. Just go in and hit him right there. Power and speed does it boy.'

'Hey you on the bag. I don't want the sound of splat. I like to listen to BOOM on the bag. Come on, turn the music on… and dance, dance. Yeah. That's it.'

At first glance Jaywant More looked like anything but an accomplished coach with over 15 years of coaching champions. A lean man of four feet eleven inches weighing in at 49 kgs and a gait of a drunkard, though he never touched alcohol. Many a wannabes were taken to 'sir' and introduced as a potential student. He then proceeded to 'rag' the student. This was his normal way of inducting a new guy into the club. After all, a boxer is not just all physical power. He has to have a steady head on his shoulders. The slightest hint of restlessness or anger (towards Sir's system) would force Mr. More to put him to a slightly tougher next test. He would have to spar with an experienced boxer, who would be instructed to not throw a single punch and just keep dodging for a full three minutes. As for the new boy, he had to show what was he made of.

There were instances in the past when boys would turn up, after watching a boxing based movie, go through the first two rounds of 'ragging' and leave with a bad after taste of the sport. In fact, what they thought to be an after taste was actually nothing compared to the kiln or furnace that they have to go through if they have a strong desire of being a world beater.

The day would begin with a call for "LINE UP BOYS". The wannabes would stand one behind the other and in a grid formation of 5x5 or 6x6 with the senior boxers standing in front of the grid facing the trainees, showing them the punches, footsteps, dodges as and when 'Sir' would give the command. This was a routine that was religiously and unquestioningly followed. Although Boxing is a scientific game where every step, dodge, punch and exercise had their reasons, hardly anybody asked him the question why; lest they attract his wrath. However, everything has a cycle which has a start, a beginning and possibly an end – though we are not focusing on the end of this legend here.

However, 'Sir' was introduced to a young (20 year old) guy who had tried his hand at various games and quickly grown tired of each of them. He was a tall, well-built guy. Jaywant More saw

potential of a medal winning boxer in him. It should have been left at that to bring out the potential since here was a guy who would deliver only when the chips are down. On the contrary, if you appreciate him or tell him that he had promise, he would just take that potential for granted and not try hard enough to realize the true worth of the potential. Of course, anybody would stand in awe of a college kid standing at six feet one inch, weighing all of 80kg. Okay, there are boys taller and heavier than this guy. But what attracted 'Sir' to him was he had the guts to come up and endure the three month training, in spite of having being thrown out of the gym on an earlier occasion, when he had come into the gym with some ‘outside influences’ and hit the punching bag that was revered by Mr. More. Even after not making it to the college team that year, he did not get dejected and came back to try his luck (of getting selected) the next August.

However, this is not the story of this 'potential champ'. And anyways, he didn't last long as a boxer. His career stats read 1 fight, 0 won, 1 lost (TKO). The mention of this loser, however is imperative in this story because he is the coach of the boxer Narendra More, who made it to the world stage and also became the undisputed feather weight champion of not one but all the three major organizations of professional boxing. It seems that Govind Rao's boxing career would come a full circle when Narendra stepped into the ring. But then there is a lot of sweat, tears, blood to be spilled in this story.

Well, after his first round unceremonious exit from the inter-collegiate tournament, Govind got back to studying, cleared his graduation and took up a job. He could have been a conveniently forgotten 'also ran'. But boxing is such a sport that, whenever he would get time off from work, he would come to the gym just to help out More sir. By and by, he changed jobs, nay careers from courier industry to travel industry to marketing to BPOs. But all through the years, he would come as and when he got the time to indulge in his passion at the boxing gym. Finally, in 1999 on one of his trips to the boxing gym and between training the boxers at More Sir's gym, he got the calling of his life. Maybe destiny was beckoning to him.

After the boys from 'Sion' finished talking to More Sir, they were introduced by Sir to Govind. At the risk of losing a free help, More sir offered the independent charge of the as yet nonfunctional Sion (Dharavi) boxing club. Govind was elated. A new chapter was about to begin. He also felt apprehensive since he was not even a fraction of what Jaywant More was in experience of boxing or coaching. Also, during one of his days of training long back he had witnessed an incident in that gym where two wannabes were sparring and that bout got out of hand, albeit unintentionally. In the course of sparring (mock fighting), one boxer hit the other on the nose. Now, getting hit on the nose is not all that uncommon. However, in this case, the

nose of that boxer who was hit had been his weakness. Angered by the punch, he just rained a barrage of untaught punches and then what happened was totally unexpected.

The other boy was also not to be cowed down by this sudden barrage of blows, tried to punch his way out. And just then that melee was broken by a shout and a thud. The boxer who got hurt on his nose (instinctively) slipped below and tried the upper-cut, but failed and on his way out, bumped his head awkwardly into the other boy's arm. Nobody knew how, but the next thing everybody saw was his arm snapped and protruded out at the elbow with the skin. He was immediately rushed to a hospital, treated for a fracture and sent packing. As for the other boy, he was eaten away by guilt and he never set foot in the gym again. The memories came flooding back to him and Govind shuddered to think of what would happen if God forbid, something like that happened in his gym. To top it, he found that he was to coach in Dharavi, the largest slum in Asia, where they didn't even have access to a regular supply of clean drinking water, leave alone facilities that were needed to make a champion out of a nobody. But as days passed into months, the gym grew from an initial group of four boys to a fuller strength of around twenty and at one time even forty boys and girls (three of them) practicing regularly at the gym. As for the fees, Govind sir had to make his ends meet with the fees that came when and only when the students got some money out of their parents. Not that the parents were rich and miserly but they were just about making ends meet.

And destiny works in strange ways. It makes and breaks relationships. It is up to the individuals how they square up to it. It so happened that Narendra More was at the tournament with his friends where Rao sir was the one who had sent him packing to inform his parents and then guided the motley crew to their seats. Seeing Rao sir, Naru started narrating the incident and Rao sir had this strange (and judged oft times snobbish by people) habit of remembering just his favorite boxers. They could be the ones who have won medals or lost fighting good bouts. But he did not remember, or rather care to remember all of the also rans. Okay, Naru was not one of the also rans, but then he had met hundreds of kids trying to get in on the action.

Anyways, Narendra More was admitted to the gym. The first two weeks are a boxer's honeymoon period. He or she is just given the basic moves and the stance which they have to practice. And that's that for them. However, there are other variables that decide on the wear and tear of the exponents of the system. One of them is the turn-out on a particular day, the attendance and hookey players. Overall, it is the same motions day in and day out. You come in, freshen up, stretch, do your freehand exercises, shadow for four to five rounds minimum, do the bags for another four or five rounds, do the padding and then cool down. After that, it is time to go home and rest. The routine gets tougher with time and it is at its breaking point when

the championships are around the corner.

It so happened that one of the days when the tournament for that particular year was just a fortnight away, one of the boxers who had the potential to win the medal and also was quite regular for practice suddenly wished to withdraw from practice. All the cajoling and threats could not turn the boxer back. That and other cases of very regular-in-practice- boxers falling by the wayside in the very first round of the tournaments started being the folklore of this Boxing club. And Naru used to enjoy all the stories, absorb the best parts and leave the entertainment part. That is what made him strive for the proverbial pot of gold at the end of the rainbow, whereas there were others who were amused at the stories and laughed their hearts out and later they fell by the wayside. Of course, you cannot always have your cake and eat it too.

A month into practice and the kit bag was first shown to the new boys. Before that, they were not even allowed to see what the contents of the bag were. Leave alone trying on the gloves and mits or the pads. At the sight of the pads and the gloves, Naru felt a sense of deja vu, as if he had seen the things that were in the bag in some dream that he may have had when he was just a smaller kid than what he was now. After that, the practice started on a different note with sessions of punching on the bag, a couple of rounds of padding with the coach or one of the senior boys and of course, sparring which not just makes you get the hang of the real thing but also is an outlet of the adrenaline and the talent that the guys have inside. In fact, in the session of sparring many of the boys will be separated like chaff from the wheat. And then one of the boys can dream of making the team which will finally get the glory.

Chapter Five

The first day of the tournament of the inter schools boxing tournament at the prestigious Azad maidan which is known for its role in the Indian freedom struggle began as usual with the medicals and the weigh-ins for the competition. Narendra More was at the venue with the coach, Govind sir. After the initial formalities, the boys were told to go home take rest and return in the evening for the tournament. The first round was a shocker. Narendra started his match with a display of footwork that made the officials wonder whether this was his first bout or that he had been playing elsewhere. The first round ended with the score at 5-1 in Narendra’s favour, who was playing from the red corner. The second round was a comeback of sorts from the opponent and he managed to nearly close the wide gap that Narendra had managed to gain. The end of the second round saw the score at 8-7. However, the third round saw the finality of the bout and severed any strings of doubt that the opponents camp had. The opponent just couldn't face the continuous barrage of blows that Narendra started landing on the

opponent and the bout ended with the opponent nursing a bloody nose and the previous round score being forgotten by all and sundry since the outcome of the match being Red winning RSC-I in the third round.

The second bout was no different with the end result. Now it seemed that Narendra had got the taste of blood. And he was always keen to draw first blood. Whether he played from the Red corner or the Blue, it would always be him winning the bout that he featured in. That helped him to secure his first district selection. And after that he was smoothly sailing in the boxing fraternity of the State. Was he the Ali of Maharashtra boxing? Or maybe Indian Boxing. He had earned the respect of all the people that were connected to the game. In fact, many a coaches had tried to lure him to their clubs and promised him that they would shower him with many an incentives if he joined their club or association. However, he would be left confused and would seek solace in the guidance of his mentor and coach, Govind sir. That was what Rao Sir liked to be called. For some strange reason, if someone called him Rao Sir, it would make him feel that people were addressing his father, who retired as a Sr. P.I from Maharashtra Police.

As time passed by, he got totally engrossed in his new way of life and its schedules and itineraries. But that was done at the cost of being fully educated. He dropped out of college after his twelfth. Narendra was happy to be a boxer and nothing else. He could walk into the ring, blow the daylights out of his opponents and feel that he was doing the same to the world. And so his journey continued unabated. He would prepare relentlessly for the tournament, win that one, come back, take a break at the behest of Govind sir, who believed that even just boxing all the time and thinking of nothing but the game would result in breakdown or rather burnout. So he encouraged all the boxers to live their normal life outside the gym. He went by the adage “Inside the gym my boxers are my slaves and outside the gym, we are the best of friends". In fact, it was the normal practice that after every tournament, depending on the club's performance, there would either be a small party or a picnic to celebrate and put things in perspective by getting your mind to wander from the unforgiving sport of boxing.

There are clubs around the world where a boxer runs the risk of being thrown out for being a smoker. However, Govind Sir made it clear that although smoking leads to loss of stamina, if you are into it and can't get it out of your system, it is okay. That would put the boxer at ease and in some way, set the guy thinking and choosing between the game and life on one side or lungs blackened with the exposure to tar on the other. Of course, in the course of the decade that he had been training, he had seen many a guys quit either smoking or boxing and then there were boys who didn't smoke earlier and just quit thinking that they had learnt the game. Of course, this book isn't dedicated to such losers. In fact, no one would be motivated to write about such

characters.

Narendra More became the prodigy of Maharashtra boxing. All the clubs wanted him and the other states and associations tried their best to lure him to them. Even associations who had produced boxers that represented India were trying to outdo each other to try and get Narendra in their fold. However, fate had something totally different written in the books that were meant for this lad. And what was that will be revealed not even to him. At least not just yet. The following year also went by with Naru attending various tournaments at the district, state and national levels. It was the same old story for the lad. He would play the tournament, win it, get the gold medal and the certificate, come back home, put away the certificate, toss the gold (plated) medal and the trophy in a corner (since he had no more space to display the fruits of his endeavors) and then call up Govind Sir to go for one of their experience sharing jaunts. This had been going for the last ten years. Narendra was all of twenty now. And this time when he came back winning the selection tournament for the national team that would play in the Commonwealth games; he was invited by Govind Sir to share a drink with him.

They had a ball of a time and when it was time to pick up the tab, Narendra felt his eyes wet. It was at that moment that he promised his mentor, coach and idol that this would be the last time that Sir would pick the tab and also that this was the last time that he would sit in this sidey bar, sipping liquor that wasn't guaranteed that it was the original stuff. Of course, Govind was not a regular at the bars since he could hardly make ends meet with the meagre income from the boxing club. He has a different story all together, which could be a part of a sequel that can be put together. A man of many inspirations and as many, or more failures in almost every aspect of life; be it education, social status, love or finance or even Boxing that he was so passionate about. Anyway, all good things have to come to an end and so too this jaunt of two people who were introduced by accident and forged friendship that went beyond everything that could limit it.

The whole of the next day Narendra spent sleeping and relaxing, which although he didn't like to do, was suggested by the one man who he would even lay down his life for. After all, it was Govind Sir's first student who will be donning the Indian National colors. It would be a long time before Narendra could come back and they could meet again... in a better joint this time. Of course, the focus would never be and it never was liquor but the company and the act of de-stressing and enjoying the time, nay quality time together. Govind Sir had also instructed him to get photographs of the places that he had been to and visited. Also, that since it was his first visit abroad, he would be tempted into trying out different vices, but not to give in. And last but not the least, to respect his seniors and to assimilate the training that the deputed coach would

impart into what he had learnt till date. He would be under the tutelage of the coach appointed by the IABF and not his coach who knew his game inside out since it was he who had done the hand holding and mentoring. Of course, Govind Sir had imparted to each and every one that he was just a teacher in the kindergarten of Boxing and that they should learn to accept and assimilate the coaching styles of other coaches under whom the boxers would be put at various stages of their boxing career.

At last, it was time for him to get on the plane that would take him to England where the Commonwealth Games were going to be held. As he entered the jumbo, he felt his heart racing for this was the first time that he had seen the insides of an aeroplane. Before this, he had just seen the many planes taking off and landing at the Mumbai airport. It was a long trip and he planned on enjoying every moment of that trip, not by guzzling down glasses of the free quota of booze but by asking his seniors, his coach and manager about things that he didn’t understand and when even they couldn’t answer the questions, he would press the button which would summon the air hostess or the flight purser to answer his queries and needs.

When the flight touched down at London Heathrow, he was more surprised to see such a grand airport. It was more than double the size of the international airport at Mumbai of which he had been proud of all this while. And it was not just the physical size, but the overall hygiene and an underlying sense of order that prevailed here at London, the capital of a nation that had a favorite pastime of standing in queues that had him floored. It was a dream come true for Narendra More alias Narya alias Naru Bal. The Bal (kid) had grown to be a man. And this was just the start. They were then taken to the bus waiting outside for the team to be taken to the games village, where they could rest and practice and live out their lives for the rest of the days that they were here.

A typical day for the boxing team was waking up at 5.30 am. After finishing the hygiene routine, they were to assemble at their designated training areas to go through the practice sessions of warm-ups, P.T exercises, rounds of shadow boxing and then on alternate days of mock sparring, also known as technical sparring, where the onus was not on hitting but on the movements and the swaying and weaving in and out of the opponents defenses. At the end of the training session in the morning, they would line up at the doctor’s table and get attended to the problems that they would have. Lesser the better.

Three days later, the games would officially be declared open. And even on that day, they would go through the same routine, albeit with a difference. After the hygiene routine, they were to report at the stadium designated for Boxing for the medicals and weigh-ins. Everything went on fine. The medicals and weigh-ins done, Naru headed back to his team quarters. His coach and manager would however have to wait out the rest of the morning at the stadium where the

draws would be scheduled. On reaching the games village, Naru went to the room and crashed so that he could get enough rest lest he were to fight in the evening.

In the afternoon, the schedule for the day’s fights was available to the teams so that they could formulate their strategies. Narendra More, being in the feather weight class would have to start his campaign on the first day itself. That, however, was not the main concern of neither Narendra nor the Indian coach. However, Naru suddenly had this strange feeling of emptiness and his mood went from normal to sullen. By lunch time, he had gone into depression and was also demotivated. He just felt that he wanted to go back. Back to India, nay Mumbai and to his Aai (Mom) and Baba (Dad). He just couldn’t fathom what was happening to him. When the coach of the Indian team came to know of this sudden eruption of emotions, he assured Naru that he will have special permission to have a chat with his parents back home after he was done with his bout for the day. That problem seemed solved at least for the time being.

In the evening, just as he was preparing for his first bout in the international arena, he was summoned along with his coach and manager to the liaison office where a message had come in from India for Narendra More, marked urgent. The news was that Narendra Ramakant More had lost his father to heart disease, which was brought on by excessive smoking and liquor. He was aged around fifty. The support team of the Indian boxing contingent had a real task on hand of making Narendra refocus on the job at hand. He had to win his bout and keep an untainted record which even Muhammad Ali would be proud of. His stats (till that moment) read 30 Played, 30 won, 25 KO’s. And now that record was in danger of recording the first ever blotch. Narendra was told of the news. And at that moment, he could understand the reason of his uneasiness throughout the period which he was feeling so ill at ease with himself. In fact, he had never felt homesick before this day. After all, he had lost his father, a man who he despised for not treating his mother the way she deserved, for selling off his sisters, for making Lata tai the wretch that she had become. And yet, he felt sadness envelop him from the loss of his father.

The announcement was made on the public address system of the bout which featured N.More of India versus a boxer from unfancied Ghana. The bout started well for the Ghanaian boxer who immediately started with a splash of punches that put Narendra More right on the ropes and the referee started administering the count of eight. However, More gained his stature and finished the round with a score that read 2-0 in favor of the Ghanaian boxer. In the corner, the seconds just didn’t have words to tell Narendra since the whole team knew that he was going through a trauma. He was just administered some quick massages, given some water and the chief coach told him to hang in there.

Start of round two and the Ghanaian boxer, riding on the confidence that he gained from the first round again tried to do a repeat performance of the first round. However, Narendra was more agile and although he couldn’t get his punches thrown, avoided getting punished this time around. In the event, he did get a caution to ‘box’ from the referee. After that, Narendra did start to try to connect. However, the round had already drawn to a close. The score at the end of round two was 4-1 still in favor of the Ghanaian boxer.

The third round saw a catastrophic change in the mood of the leader of the last two bouts. In spite of the decent lead that he had gained, the Ghanaian boxer just went all out at More, who by now had regained his composure and was reading the Ghanaian quite well. This tactic was totally uncalled for in case of the Ghanaian since he was clearly in the lead and should have just capitalized on that lead. The real reason however came to light later at the end of the bout. Anyways, Narendra started getting his momentum right and dodged and weaved in and out of the Ghanaian, much to the surprise of the Ghanaian corner and the public. It was as if More was the leader in points and the Ghanaian was trailing. At the sound of the gong, the scores read 4-3, still in favor of the Ghanaian.

In the corner, the Ghanaian team was all red with fury at their boxer’s folly. They started reprimanding him and advised him to stay out of harm’s way and not get into too much of a slugfest since his stamina was wearing thin. This was the first time that the nephew of an influential tribal leader was fighting in the final round of an international boxing match. He was in the habit of finishing the bout within the first two rounds and when it went into the third round, he would try anything that was in the reach of his influence to win the bout. However, this was not Ghana or even Africa. He was in Manchester, England and in front of a boxer, who had the same reputation, albeit not due to his political clout but due to his sheer power and ring craft.

The start of the fourth round saw Narendra coming in the middle with a confident demeanor. Although he was trailing by the solitary point, Naru was an epitome of a champion. In fact, the last round did not even see the culmination of the full time. It so happened that seeing the body language of Narendra, the Ghanaian was half demoralized right at the start of the penultimate round. And the icing on the cake turned out to be more luscious than Ghanaian cocoa. Narendra threw a perfect combination of three lefts that caught the Ghanaian off guard and the perfect hammer of a right punch to the chin saw the mentally stressed boxer flat on the ground with a bloodied mouth and an ego that was shattered to smithereens. The referee went through the formalities of the mandatory eight count and extended it to ten. The final result of the bout announced on the public address system ‘Winner in the Red corner. N. More of India by a TKO (Technical knockout)’

That night saw a great relief on the faces of the Indian Boxing team and also the rest of the Indian contingent, who turned up to condole Narendra on the great personal loss that he was facing. He was given hope and re-assurances by all and sundry of the contingent. However, when the loss is that of a father, it seems to be an unrepairable loss and that too to a man barely in his twenties, with a full life ahead of him. The rest of the tournament was a kind of a cakewalk for Narendra, except the finals where he met the defending champion of the last games. That bout was a spell binder, which Narendra More won on a split decision, thus bringing home a gold medal for India.

CHAPTER SIX

Returning home a hero, Narendra More was a celebrity who was followed by the paparazzi. They would not let him out of sight for even a second. However, despite all the media attention and the endless rounds of television, print and radio interviews, he would think of his laborer father, who even though was indifferent towards Naru, was still his father. He had dreamed of going back home with the gold medal and showing his father the medal. However, all this had come to naught with the tragic news of his death. And his mother, Anandi… she was in and out of shocks during the last decade that Narendra had been growing into a successful boxer. Maybe the sheer weight of the hatred for how things had gone for his family and for the thing that people referred to as destiny was his driving force. He had resolved, even as a child to fight destiny till his last breath.

The burning desire to be a world beater and also to bring endless glory to his parents had egged him on to be hungry for more and more success. Ever since he had returned from his successful sojourn at the Commonwealth games, he was flooded with offers of a job from top notch companies and he was promised a sum of one crore by the government. There were many modeling agencies trying to get him to endorse the products of their clients. He was a bigger star than even the best paid cricketer or the most sought after actor/ model.

The following year saw his stars sore. He moved from the shanty in Dharavi to a plush flat in Andheri, a suburb of the city where you could rub shoulders or at least run into several film stars and other celebrities. However, he grew tired of all the plastic smiles and the pseudoisms that thrived so much in the whole atmosphere of the locality. The people who would hog the limelight at the slightest pretext were themselves living a life full of the same problems that they were seen fighting so voraciously. He missed the real grime and dirt of Dharavi, the place where he was born, went to school and enjoyed his life in the protective arms of his mother, Anandi and his elder sister, Latatai.

And just like a sudden flash of lightning out of a clear blue sky, he remembered that he had two more sisters who were sold to someone by his father who had died some months earlier. He was overcome with this powerful desire to search for the sisters. And so started another chapter in the life of this champion. He caught up with his mentor Govind Sir and began to talk to him about his experiences in England, the bouts, etc. he also updated Sir with the news of his father’s death. Govind Sir though not moved much by the news still comforted Narendra and they ended the day talking of the plans ahead, of boxing in general, of what kind of knowledge Narendra had gained under the tutelage of the coach of the Indian team. After all the topics that both of them had close to their hearts were exhausted, Narendra took the opportunity to ask Govind Sir about his plans to search for his two sisters who were sold.

Govind Sir was taken aback when he heard the story of the champion’s sisters being sold to fend off additional burden to the hand to mouth existence that Naru’s family was already in. Govind Sir had this unusual habit of getting into the crux of the problem and then thinking of the possibilities of arriving at a logical solution to the problem at hand. He would be a perfect shoulder to dry your tears on. He had both, a sympathetic heart and also advice that he would give the seekers with a pinch of salt. And that is what he gave Narendra. He reminded Naru that instead of coming and talking to him of the problem, he should have talked to someone who had seen the two girls before they had sold them off due to the abject poverty that they were facing in that phase of Naru’s life. And who better than his mother and Latatai. Hearing what Narendra had heard from Govind Sir’s mouth felt like suddenly the heavens had opened a pathway for Naru. And he asked himself as to why didn’t he think of the two women to ask about the girls.

Having dropped Govind Sir at his residence in Sion, Naru set off to his home -- in the falsified world of artificial emotions and plastic smiles where the perpetrators would seem to be smiling to you, but are actually plotting and praying for your downfall, which gives them a chance to look down upon one more character who had dared to break into their circle, leave alone the elite group. As he was driving along the highway, he was suddenly stopped on the western express highway by the police. He was reprimanded for driving above the speed limit permissible. He was quite surprised to see that there was a bandobast (a check point) near Santacruz. He slowed the car and lowered his tainted glass of the Maruti SX4 that was presented to him. The police checked his driving license, told him to step out of the vehicle. Narendra thought he was stopped for drinking and driving. He tried to plead with the police to let him go after settling the matter. When the inspector heard it, he said something that Naru had never heard in his life. The policeman told Naru that they had stopped him not for any offence (though he was cruising at a speed well above the permissible speed limit) but just for a few signs on some papers – and that too blank ones. He refused to sign them and that he would go to the commissioner about this. The policemen readily agreed and agreed to have this document sent to the Commissioner of Police’s office.

Narendra was shocked to hear this. He changed his demeanor and language from that of pleading to the one of being angered. However, the next day at the Police Commissioner’s office when the dust settled, he realized that the papers were not empty but the writing was seemingly blurred from his guzzling of liquor last night. The document was an agreement that he would appear for a charity show for the underprivileged children of the constables who were never given a second look and that forced them to get into all the ugly trades of crime and a life of criminals. If he could rise above the filth of Dharavi and become a rising international star, then there should be hopes for everyone who is willing to take that route. Narendra More felt that his life had come a full circle and he felt happy, nay elated to be of such a service to the community. However, unknown to him, his life had not yet come full circle. Far from it.

After that incident, his life was becoming more and more stressful and busy. He had to divide his day among charity, endorsements, family and of course boxing. Thankfully, he had no time for controversies. At least not at this moment. In the meantime, whenever he had some time left from the busy schedule of a celebrity, he would get to the nitty-gritty of the search. He would ask eagerly about his other two siblings to Latatai and she would not fully recollect the occurrences except for their name Ganga and Parvati. He then decided to use his clout at the fourth estate. He contacted one of his friends from a well-known daily to help him track down his long lost sisters. To that, Bipin Salvi, the sports reporter and one of his favored friends in the world of sports reporting, gave him the contact of a reporter who covered crime and social activities and news.

Delighted to no end, he immediately set out contacting Mr. Ram Rane who readily agreed to help in this noble endeavor. They started the campaign of locating the missing sisters. The twist of fate however was not in Narendra’s favor for a long period of time. That is because although he had their names and descriptions when they were young, he did not have a photograph since they were abjectly poor. And thus, they could not afford to have family photographs and also that neither Ramakant nor Anandi were inclined to relish the growing up years of their children because of their hand-to-mouth sustenance. However, Bipin remained stoic and he vowed to reunite the champ with his long lost sisters.

There were news articles about Narendra in regards to the gold medal and then there were interviews that may catch the sight of some person who may have seen them or known about their whereabouts. Narendra was so obsessed with this task of reuniting with his sisters that he started to bunk practice sessions. However, initially Govind Sir gave him the leeway to skip practice. But when this continued for nearly a month as Naru would turn up for practice just a couple of days in a week, Govind Sir couldn’t take this lying low any longer. He summoned Narendra in his cabin. On being reprimanded for skipping practice sessions for days on end, Narendra realized his mistake and returned to the sport that he not only loved but also that had

brought him to a position and stature in society which would have been impossible otherwise.

On one of such occasions, he was just preparing to leave from the gym, he was approached by a young woman who said she was in her late twenties but looked like she could be in the mid-thirties. She was wearing a nine yard sari, an attire that was the norm in his community. She introduced herself as Ganga. He enquired what she wanted. And to his amazement, she replied that she was Naru’s long lost elder sister, Ganga. He was skeptical to believe that it was not that he found his sister but the other way around. He asked her about some details that only Ganga or her mother would know. He asked her to give some identification marks that she had. On further questioning, he found that she was not his sister but an imposter, who was attracted to the advertisement for locating the long lost sister of a champion boxer, who must be rich, if not filthy rich.

As soon as he realized that it was not the real person, he consulted his mentor and coach, who promptly dialed the police station. When the girl was patiently waiting and imagining her good fortune, she could see from the glass of the cabin that there are cops outside, she panicked and in a flash confessed that she was not Ganga but Savitri, a bar girl who was lured into this by her mother so that she could make a quick buck and a quicker exit. But that was not to be so. She was handed to the police, who took her to the police station and had her arrested for impersonating a person with an intention to cheat.

Some days later, another woman appeared at the training gym and claimed that she was Parvati. And that Ganga was also living with her since she was not in proper health. On examining her and asking her all the verifying questions to which she gave satisfactory answers, Narendra took her home with the due permission of the authorities. They started with her to the place that she said she and her sister were living. She was the genuine Parvati after all. She took them to the flat where she, Ganga and one Miss Durga were put up. It was in Hiranandani complex at Powai. What Narendra saw at the plush apartment would make Narendra forget all his exterior toughness and he would weep like a small child.

He saw that Saraswati and Ganga were living in this posh duplex flat with Durgadevi, a woman who had dedicated to the service of mankind in the form of running a higher learning center. It was a spiritual center which was affiliated to one of the largest NGOs in the world, which was in turn recognized by none other than UN. He was elated and happy to have finally found both his long lost sisters and that too at such a spiritually rich place, where they were both teachers of spiritual knowledge. They were looked upon with awe and respect for not just their knowledge but also their handling of the various problems that the attendees of the class would bring to them on a regular basis.

When Narendra pleaded with them to return home and to a good life where they would know not a single hardship, they refused. Their argument was that when they had found their True Calling, they were not interested in any of the worldly pleasures or the bandhanas (bonds) that exist. Of course, he was welcome to visit them whenever he felt like it. They did enquire about the parents who had sold them off. Naru told them about their father’s death and also that Anandibai, their mother was a mental wreck and could hardly recognize her own son, who was staying with her for the last twenty two years. It was then that they decided to pay the distraught woman a visit and enlighten her as to the knowledge that the Supreme Godfather has descended from his heavenly abode to release man from his shackles.

In the days that followed Naru would often visit the spiritual center and after having the bhog (Godly offerings) after the discourses that he enjoyed listening to, would go to the gym to practice in the morning session. That would follow his normal routine of getting home and doing his normal bodily chores and then relaxing till the evening when he would be ready to go to his home away from home – the gym where he would train and then also help the younger aspirants who would be hard at work to copy the success that Naru had achieved till date. He would get an inner sense of happiness. Also, it seemed that his life had turned a corner and it was a straight highway that will lead to a great life. Thankfully, he was not in the rat race earning a ‘decent’ salary from some company that would grind people like sticks of sugarcane in a juicer till they were of no use to them and then throw them off under the guise of either recession or retirement or worse because he/she doesn’t fit in the scheme of things in the company or maybe he/she is too vocal about his/her feelings and the wrongdoings of the company.

And in this day and age, when companies were reeling under the throes of the recession and slowdown of economies worldwide, there were still some sects or classes of people who were making a really decent in fact even lavish lifestyles. However, we are not concerned with them for the moment.

Narendra had now taken this slight change in his lifestyle in his stride. He would come back from his morning discourses and training, have a sumptuous breakfast and go to his mother’s room where she would lay and think…of nothing. Or maybe she was reeling in the same sea of self-doubt. Nobody could fathom what was going on in her mind. Maybe she was praying silently to God to end her pain and relieve her of this mortal body so that she can witness him in all his glory. And as usual, it would be broken by the usual call to come for a bath by the nurse that would come home to take care of her for the entire day and leave in the evening. During the day, either Narendra would be busy watching bouts of his favorite boxers or videos of his

own fights and try to be critical of the way he had fought in a particular bout. Sometimes, these would be punctuated with visits from the many celebrity management companies or advertising agencies that would approach him to endorse their products or services. This was a life that was befitting a champion. However, not everything is ever lasting. Things were about to change.

-CHAPTER SEVEN-

It so happened that the two sisters Ganga and Saraswati were a part of a ‘Prabhat pheri’ which means nothing but a long morning walk where the students of the spiritual center along with the other brothers and sisters would go on a specific predetermined route to spread awareness about the teachings of their incorporeal father of all souls. And it so happened that the procession waded through each and every street in the plush neighborhood of this suburb of Andheri and ended just at the gates of the society where Naru was now staying with his mother and the care takers of his desolate mom.

When the procession neared his building, Narendra, who couldn’t attend the morning session of the discourse since he had returned late from a shoot for some energy drink, which he himself never touched or even personally advocated because of its many side effects went out to the balcony and was overjoyed to see his sisters leading the march. He prayed that he could take them and show them to his mother. However, he feared that she will not recognize them and that they may be sad. However, he still didn’t know that they wouldn’t be stirred so much as a normal human being is when someone he values fails to recognize him. Anyways, what transpired next was something that Narendra was not prepared for. The procession ended at his building after an hour or so. The two sisters started making enquiries in the neighborhood about Narendra More.

And it did not take them long to locate him since he was a very well-known personality, not just because of the obvious fame and recognition bestowed on him by the media but also for the reason that they knew in their heart of hearts that this was a man who wouldn’t hesitate to help people not just through his donations to the charitable institutions but also with his bare hands if the need arises. Never mind his status of being a sports celebrity. He had never lost

touch with his roots.

He welcomed Ganga and Saraswati, his bodily sisters and now also his soul brothers- since they say that the soul has no gender, they are all brothers. They were welcomed to the home of Naru Bal. he offered them water and asked what would they have. Instead, they were quite pleased to just meet their long forgotten mother. And after much cajoling by Narendra, they agreed to a glass each of freshly pressed (and non-iced) orange juice. Anandi, who was in her usual state of semi consciousness underwent a sea change when the sisters entered her room, albeit a bit apprehensively lest she may not recognize them. However, to everyone's surprise, Anandi seemed to recognize the both of them in a flash. And she was overjoyed at seeing them. Everybody was aghast at this occurrence. Nobody could have imagined that a recluse and a woman who would not recognize her son who stayed with her all his life, was sometimes asked by her as to who he was and also that whether he had come to meet Naru Bal.

The sisters were themselves surprised to a great extent. The mystery was lifted, to a certain extent by none other than Anandi herself, who by now was a normal being after spending years of solitude and self-denial. Anandi told them that all this while she was thinking of them and that she was guilty of not opposing to the sale of the girls by her husband. Latatai and her sisters were inconsolable. All in all, it was nothing short of a melodramatic yet happy reunion of the family after all these years. Maybe there is more to this than just the yearning of the mother for her daughters. And that is known as the sixth sense of a woman, rather a mother who can sense her children, even after years of being apart. The hours flew past and it seemed that it was just a couple of hours, but it was already nearing late evening. The two sisters realized that they had their godly duties to attend to at the 'center'. Taking leave of Naru, Latatai and their mother, they were dropped off to their residence by Narendra in his Mercedes.

Later that same night, Narendra had gone to bed when in the middle of the night he heard a thud. Sensing something fishy, he rushed out of his room. In the hallway, he saw Latatai had also woken hearing the same thud. They later checked on Anandi, who was lying motionless but with a radiance that no one ever saw on her face for the last decade or more. It was as if she was just waiting to see her long lost daughters. And now that the wish was fulfilled, she had nothing more to accomplish on this earth. Strangely enough, neither Naru nor Latatai had the bouts of sudden emotions and crying that are so evident in families in India when they have lost a near and dear one. Maybe they realized that even though she had died, it was after feeling happy at seeing her long lost daughters. Also, the sisters had imparted to her and the rest that it is useless to grieve for some body that is destructible and has to be given back to the

Supreme being.

The next morning, word was sent out to the meditation center to sister Ganga and sister Saraswati about the passing on of their bodily mother. They did come to pay their last homage and to wish her a pleasant final journey after a life of hardships. At that moment, a car drove in from the heart of the city. It was the CEO of the company that was sponsoring Narendra More for the last three years and he was to attend the big bash of the inauguration of the forthcoming venture of the group. However, when he exited the lift to enter Narendra's flat, he was surprised and the next moment, he had tears in his eyes. Not just because his brand ambassador had lost his mother but he realized that he had come to pay homages to his most faithful ex housemaid Anandi. And that was when Dubash couldn't hide his tears. However, he couldn't tell anybody why would he have tears in his eyes. From that moment on, he decided to not sponsor Narendra for tenures of three years but for life.

When Govind Sir got news of Narendra's loss, he too made his way to Narendra's home. He just stood there with sadness inside of him. After all, he didn't know Anandi personally but he was wondering as to how will his Champ deal with this loss in his life. The media was kept in the dark, somehow. So, there was not much fanfare. The mortal remains were quietly carted off in an ambulance to the cemetery and given a silent farewell. And after the ceremonies were done, Narendra went home and Latatai and he had a quiet rest of the day. No words forthcoming from either of them.

Just as he was about to retire to his room for the night, he felt something in his shirt pocket. Inside was an envelope that someone had slipped. He opened it and there was a letter with an itinerary. There was an international competition coming up in two months’ time and the paper had a regimen worked out. However, the letter said "....You may forgo training as you are mentally stressed about your mother's passing. I fully understand your loss. And I would also not like you to not focus fully on the training. Signed Govind Rao'.

And Narendra, being the devotee of Govind Sir that he was, reluctantly skipped practice for a week and post that period went all out for that practice. The international event was a selection for an inter-continental tournament, which would be followed by the Olympics. He launched himself into training so much that there would be days when he would have to be reminded

that the practice has crossed the stipulated time and that he has to go home and rest for the body to recover for the next session. This continued till the Inter Continental Cup, where he was one of the four from India for the Asian team. And eventually, he would come back from that tournament too with a neck full of medals and a bag full of trophies and souvenirs. As usual, many of the mementoes would be shunted to Govind Sir, as also some ring shoes and pairs of gloves and pads and other paraphernalia. However, not everything was hunky dory for this prodigy of Indian Boxing. After his super stellar performance at the Inter Continental Cup, he would witness the ugly face of Politics in Indian Boxing.

Coming back from the tournament with his confidence at an all-time high, he was eyeing the next Olympics, where he was as sure as death to win the coveted gold medal for India in Boxing. he was back to his routine of boxing, endorsements, events and of course his regular visits to the meditation center. Narendra would often ask his sisters to wish him luck and to pray for him so that he can be in the Indian team leaving for the next Olympics. It so happened that, he was invited to Delhi by the higher ups that governed the game in the country. Not suspecting anything amiss, he undertook the journey after consulting his mentor. Govind Sir too gave him his blessings and saw him off at the airport. However, what transpired at the capital drew his attention to the ugly face of politics in Indian sports fraternity. Where many countries will put national pride before individual preferences, the India Boxing Administration tried to pressurize Narendra into reporting sick so that a lad from Haryana, who was untested but showed potential, could be accommodated in his weight category. Narendra More, who was not fazed by the requests, cajoles and ultimately threats took their leave and started on his return journey. A journey which normally takes less than two hours would take him forever.

At the Indira Gandhi International Airport, where he had reported for catching his late night flight to Mumbai, he was detained at the airport on the pretext of checking his bag for suspected contraband. It was found that he was carrying nothing. He was free to go. However, it was too late for him to catch his favorite flight the AI 112 to Mumbai. Dejected and also angry at the callous behavior of the security personnel, he was booked on the next possible flight and checked into the lounge. As he had close to three hours before his next flight, he decided to snooze off in the Maharaja lobby since he was travelling Business class, gratis courtesy Air India.

When he finally woke up, he found out that he had his bag missing. After enquiring at the counter and being directed from pillar to post, he was made to proceed to the aircraft with the assurance that his bag was checked in as premium handling. One harrowing experience followed another. He was informed that the bus taking the passengers to the aircraft had left. And when he insisted on another bus be sent since he was not only a Business Class passenger but a

celebrity and also their Brand Ambassador, he was given a bus to get to the aircraft. It just didn't occur to him as to why was it happening to him now, when he was at such a level. He could have understood if the same had happened to him when he was still a newbie. And it never dawned on him that all this was a part of a larger controversy to break him down mentally and physically so that he could be certified mentally unstable and unfit to compete in the Olympics. And that was exactly what happened.

On his return to Mumbai, he contracted a viral flu, which turned out to be malaria. This deprived him of much needed practice for a full fortnight, which in turn made him ill prepared for the upcoming preparatory camp. And he finally missed the opportunity to make it to the Olympics. It will not be possible for another four years. In one of the reports, he read that his weight category is filled by the very lad from the North for whom he was cajoled, threatened and yet he was firm. That struck him like a lightning from a clear blue sky. And that proved to be his undoing for some time. He was dejected and skipped practice. He also got into the wrong company, started to frequent bars and while his time away with friends who used him for his money, fame and strength.

A month into this (so called soul searching) and he realized that he will not be in the reckoning anymore since the lad from the north will have filled his shoes, thanks to the tutelage of the powerful lobby. And it was then that he had decided to quit Boxing and live an incognito life. After all, he had no one to go back to save Latatai, who he knew was not a high maintenance personality. She was content with simple food, even now and she didn't yearn for a wardrobe. She would just shuffle around the dozen or so sarees that she had in her closet. As for his other sisters, he was happy that they were in safe hands. And then, he just retired for the day.

A week into his shell and the silence of the situation was broken when Govind Sir gave him a call on a Friday morning. "Hey Champ, where the hell have you been. Have you become an ascetic, moved to Himalayas or are u drunk and intoxicated with your success that you seem to have forgotten the lower rungs of the ladder on which you have climbed to cloud nine?". This dialogue made him realize that he was committing a mistake. That of cutting himself from the game he so loved and which had put him on the highest pedestal in life. After promising Govind Sir that he will be down in the gym, although not in the state of mind to practice. "Hey chill. You can just come and be around the boys, giving them some pad punching practice or just an elder brotherly supervision."

Govind Sir was known to be a pillar of support to any boxer who showed potential and commitment. He was, he would say, an exception to every rule. Take any proverb and he will say that he is the exception for it. Give him any adage or a principle in life or even mathematical logic or scientific reason and he would still say "I am an exception to that rule". His own coach was a big influence on how to (and also on how not to) coach budding boxers. In fact, he would say that “ I have destroyed more boxers’ careers than I have built. And the reason is although I knew or I saw, potential in them it is just because I didn't like their attitude."

The reason that Govind Sir had called his favorite boxer was not just because he missed him dearly but he had a call from the lifetime sponsor of 'Champ'. That is what he had started calling Narendra, ever since he scored his first knock out. And he felt that if this guy was ready to invest in the champ for life, then he does have the right to know what is happening to his prodigy. And as fate would have it, there was a call from the USA from the WBA. They had come to know of this rising star of Indian Boxing. And they were trying to get him to the professional side of the game, where he would rub shoulders with the international fraternity of Boxing. This was his destiny and he was busy being dejected. So much for a gold medal. When he was told of this news, he nearly fainted. He just couldn't believe it. He started dreaming of the glam and the razzmatazz of Las Vegas and the kind of atmosphere that he had seen in the movies.

Govind Sir although happy, was skeptical of approaching Mr. Dubash who was Narendra's lifetime sponsor. After all, how would he react to this news. Would he say that he can sponsor Narendra's appearances for the country and not the professional circuit. Or will he be as happy for Narendra as he was. After all, wealthy men can be moody and god forbid, if Sir were to meet him after one of those meetings that may have gone wrong... Everything will have to wait till they get a sponsor. Anyways, it is better he thought to 'Cross the bridge when it comes'. And so he continued his routine to let the plan of meeting Mr. Dubash with a proper appointment some other time.

As fate would have it, Govind Sir got a call from someone he never expected. It was Mr. Engineer who called to ask about Narendra. In fact, he had got news of the professional body approaching Narendra. As Govind Sir picked up the phone, he was surprised to hear Mr. Engineer's voice at the other end. After all, why would such a wealthy man call him? Did he

change his mind about the lifetime sponsorship; has he got news of Narendra not being regular at the gym for practice. He had a hundred doubts running across his mind. But all that would be put to rest by Mr. Engineer himself when his enthusiasm showed through "Hey Sir G" (That was how he had started calling Govind Sir). "I am on cloud nine hearing something about the WBC showing interest in Narendra. Tell me is it a rumor or is there really something to it."

Govind Sir was very happy at what he just heard from a person that he himself was skeptical of approaching. Now that the ice was broken, he was keen to put forward his proposal. He began "Mr. Dubash, what you heard was a fib." To which Dubash was aghast. How dare he get a rumor and...." However, Govind Sir was giggling at the other side. He continued "Hey Mr. Engineer, what I mean to say is that he was approached by the IBA not WBC." And then the deal was discussed at length between the two people who cared about Naru very much. Govind Sir and Mr. Engineer agreed to get into an agreement of sharing the net spoils of the champ in the ratio of 65- 35 in favor of Govind Sir. However, this didn't seem fair to this coach with a conscience so clean that it hurt him. But he counter offered his financier a 60-40 agreement in Mr. Dubash's favor.

That agreed, Govind Sir called Narendra for a session where they would discuss non boxing and personal things. In fact, this was not a non-boxing thing at all. He just didn't want Naru to get ideas in his head. After all, he had some vested interests in his mind too. And at least for now, Narendra should concentrate on the new chapter of his life rather than thinking of money at this point. Fair enough.

Narendra walked in the A/C section of Centre Point at CBD BELAPUR, got himself a seat and was waiting for Govind Sir. Belapur is a quiet suburb of the twin city of Navi Mumbai, where they would be allowed some moments of quiet as against the noisy bars of Mumbai and so they could discuss whatever that Govind Sir had in mind. In fact, even he had some news to share with his mentor. But since, Sir had called him, it would be sir who will do the talking first. Maybe he wanted to reprimand him for not being regular for practice. Or maybe, he had faced Mr. Dubash's ire at having wasted his money on non-existing practice sessions. It could be anything. But he was never expecting the news of the IBA call.

After about fifteen minutes, he saw Govind Sir walk in with another man. ‘Oh no. what was Sir

up to? Why had he brought Mr. Dubash with him? And how did Mr. Dubash agree to come to this joint when he never sets foot in restaurants that’s below 5 star rating?’. Whatever that was, he thought maybe that is the end of the road for him. And all this because of his rash decision of skipping practice and going on that pseudo soul searching sojourn. The two men entered. After the formalities of introductions and ordering were done and taken care of, they were ready to talk. To the surprise of all three present, Narendra started " I know that my actions in the recent past have been anything but gentlemanly or sporting. I am sorry for all my actions. I also promise to be as committed..." The dialogue was broken by a hysterical laughter from both the men that were hearing out this man, their hopes of a life. This totally confused Narendra. And he was dumb founded. After exchanging glances, it was decided that Dubash will break the news. he said "See, young man. I am here to give you a good news and a bad news....What would you like to hear first?. Narendra was just taken aback. In fact, not even that. He was speechless. But he still steeled himself up and said "Let's hear the bad one first". After all, he had lost touch with bad news for quite a while now ever since he stepped in the ring and knocked the daylights out of his opponent’s lives.

"Well, since you would like to have the bad news first, I would like to tell you that I have decided not to be your India partner anymore." "So does that mean that I have to keep running around for my own sponsors And when will I have time to practice for the upcoming tournaments. Can't that decision wait until...." Again, a splash of laughter from the mentors. And this time too, Mr. Engineer broke the news. "You know what, Narendra. You are too simple, my lad." "Okay, no more tortures. I have to tell you this. That I have been told by your coach here that he was contacted by the IB...A, right?" "Yes sir." "Okay so the IBA have contacted Govind Sir to sign you, Narendra More for a crack at the professional boxing world." "Welcome to the big bad world of pro boxing, kid."

END OF BOOK ONE

BOOK TWO

-CHAPTER EIGHT-

Now the graph of the champ will be on the way north. However, history has been witness to the stories of slum dogs becoming millionaires and rubbing their shoulders with the who's who and getting it in their heads and falling with a bang so hard that they are blown to smithereens. Will that be the same way that Narendra More will go or is he destined to come down gracefully, on retirement, like a giant Jumbo Jet that successfully completes its voyage and gets the passengers, cargo and the crew to their destination, remained to be seen.

That was all like a journey that was still to be undertaken. However, the journey with all its perils was to be started. And this part of the story would bring him into contact with some of the factors of one’s life that is associated with the world of glamour, with its share of wine, women and wealth. Unlimited wealth… and FAME.

It all started with a mail from the IBA (International Boxing Association), which got news of this potential world beater from a certain Don Lewis, based in New York and was known more for his links in the professional boxing circuit and of getting a better deal for his boxers and also for himself, since he would negotiate with both the federation and the promoter of the boxer, which guaranteed him a fair share of the pie of the prize money; although it was a well-known fact that if the boxer made money, the promoter wouldn’t make as much and vice versa.

Mr. Lewis sent an email to JK, a close associate of Govind Sir, who was well known in the Pro Boxing circuit for having contacts and getting even the newbies and greenhorns a guarantee of a fight or even a circuit if he is good enough. And having observed Narendra More’s career graph over the years, he was secretly praying to the Almighty that the lure of the cash would somehow get the better of More and he would one day enter the ring without his singlet.

And his prayers were answered to the fullest sooner than he had expected. He was approached by Govind Sir, who incidentally he had mentored in his early and formative years in the game. Govind Sir did not have much of sales talk to deliver to represent his ward. And it seems that JK, had sensed the purpose of Govind Sir’s visit to his small office, where he combined his profession of running a photography shooting company – He had a battery of photographers

under his tutelage from product photography to wildlife to modeling- with his love for the golden glove. JK started the conversation with his usual hint of sarcasm that would humble even a British. ‘Welcome, Mr. creator of the all conquering juggernauts in India Boxing’ he said in his oft recognized throaty tone. This was in spite of the fact that Govind Sir had not had a stable of world beaters, barring Narendra More. ‘Oh and who do we have here? The Rocky Balboa of Indian Amateur Boxing.’ he added, pointing to Narendra. ‘Come have a seat. What will you have?’

The formalities over, Govind Sir directly struck the business chord, without beating round the bushes. ‘As you know, Mr. JK., Narendra has been doing the rounds of Indian Boxing for quite some time now and he has won many a laurels for the country at the international competitions.’ ‘However, you may also be aware of the treatment that was meted out to him at the selection games and the heart break that was faced by Narendra here.’ ‘So we have decided to call it quits.’

JK just couldn’t believe what he heard. ‘Govind, I know that you have not achieved anything as a boxer. However, till now I was under the impression that you had the best interests of your boxers at heart. And you have just proven me wrong.’ ‘I was planning to recommend his name for the Arjuna Award (which is bestowed on performing sportspeople in India) for the next year. But this decision of yours will not even get him the Dronacharya Award (Awarded to coaches who have consistently produced the best in their respective sports discipline) since he won’t be keen to get into coaching.

Turning to Narendra, he tried to lure him into parting ways with Govind Sir so that he can groom him for something much better and then the much coveted Arjuna Award. However, Narendra was a blind and loyal follower of Govind Sir and he politely refused the offer. After he had seen the melodrama and realized that Narendra was the pole opposite of another student, Rujuta Hushing he had trained earlier, who jumped the bandwagon and disowned the affiliation to Govind Sir’s club once she got the fame, albeit at the national level. She had replied to a question from a sports journo as to who was her first coach who initiated her in the game and she replied “Oh thanks to Rishi Sir, I have reached this milestone”. Rishi Dars was a much junior coach, who was a coach in another college not very far from Govind Sir’s club.

Anyways, Govind Sir had his share of the back stabbers alongwith the also rans and the ones whom he had thrown out of the gym for rubbing him the wrong way. Hearing what Narendra told JK, he proceeded to tell JK that he wasn’t planning to pull his ward out of boxing totally, but was just not going to let him represent any team but himself. And that he wanted Narendra to go Pro.

Although on a subtle level, JK had wanted Narendra to go professional, he tried gauging the lad’s seriousness. After some real grilling and (pseudo) deterring, he promised to look into it and that he will talk to his contacts in all the major governing bodies of the professional boxing circuit in the US and elsewhere. And that it will take some time. Maybe a month or a year. No guarantee about that since India was never a producer of any sort of pro boxer. After thanking JK for his assurance, Govind Sir and Naru Bal or Champ pondered over what to do on their way back home.

Days passed and tumbled into months. Finally, after a long wait of five months, Govind Sir called up JK to enquire on the status of their enquiry. JK told him to come and meet him at his office in the evening. Govind Sir had known JK for quite a long time now. But still, he had a love-hate relationship with his mentor, JK. The reason being that he had this uncanny habit of promising the stars and not even delivering a trip to the planetarium. However, maybe it was racial prejudice or an innate recognition of talent that JK did try hard to get in touch with the powers that be in the echelons of the world of professional boxing and did get a match of 10 rounds of 3 minutes each with another wannabe. A boxer from Mexico, Jose Delgado who was showing promise in his country but was stopped short due to his belligerent ways of handling his bouts both in victory and in defeat. He was in fact outlawed in the amateur circles in his country after he assaulted an opponent outside the ring with a crowbar. The reason being that Jose lost his bout to the other guy, thanks to a superbly executed combination of left uppercut with a right hook. Delgado opposed the decision saying that he was struck with the elbow. The matter was to come for hearing at the end of the session, as is the norm governing the game. However, he couldn’t wait that long and seized an opportunity in the dressing room and struck his opponent with a crowbar that one of his accomplices had managed to smuggle in the dressing room. The result was he was banned for life from the amateur circles. The opponent although, not dead did suffer concussions to the head and internal bleeding that left him with a blurred vision in one of his eyes.

However, that was more than three years ago. And it was now known that he had mellowed down, although he was not a saint altogether. Research into his psyche revealed the he had

come from a broken family that lived on the outskirts of Mexico City. His father was a sexual beast with no particular liking. Anyone that caught his fancy would be fair game. In fact, he didn’t spare even little Jose a couple of times nor did he spare his own mother-in-law. Having been caught in the act of raping his mum in law, he was thrashed black and blue by the community and the police alike. He was found dead on a pavement some months later outside a shanty colony of transvestites. Nobody spared a thought for this creature.

Having been slated to fight with a beast in his first professional bout, Narendra was coached with such vigor by Govind Sir that the coach was tested to his limits since training for a pro fight is ten times more work than the work to be put in an amateur fight.

-CHAPTER NINE-

The scheduled day of the fight arrived with a cloud of anticipation hanging over both the boxers. Both were ruthless and both had the statistics of the other going on in their respective minds. Delgado however, was raring to have a go at the ultimate prize and not focusing on this fight at hand since he was confident that he would blow More away before the fifth round.

The aura surrounding this arena was something totally different to what Narendra was accustomed to. Normally, he would be accompanied to the ring from the dressing room by just his coach and a couple of seconds. He was expecting just that and was expecting just a bigger crowd.

However, when he was midway through the pad punching session, he could see a couple of girls catching up on his pre event padding and that unnerved him a bit. He turned to Govind Sir and asked him to shoo the girls away since he couldn’t concentrate on the padding. Not that he was semi ogling at them or anything but this was totally an alien situation for him. Of course, he had had catcalls and whistles from the crowd, but that was when he was in the ring… or on the way to the ring. But, this was something out of the blue.

Govind Sir, initially tried to talk him out of his distraction. But when he saw that he was hard bent to have them out of his domain, he broke the news to him that these were the cheer girls who would be escorting him to the ring. ‘So, will you not come to the ring, sir?’ ‘Will these meatballs second me?’ he asked, almost in a tone of anger. ‘Hey cool it champ. You have a match to finish out there. And besides these are not your seconds but just cheer girls. Remember, this is the world of Professional Boxing.’ Having said that, he continued to train Naru through the remainder of the session.

Outside, the atmosphere was a typically charged one. The crowds were eager for the fights to start. Although the bout between Narendra and Delgado was not the main draw, people would still wager on the bout. There was money to be made or lost, anyways.

At that moment, the support team was in a frenzy, running about making the last minute preparations for Naru’s bout that would start moments from now. The announcer bellowed to the crowd in the typical showman’s style of announcement of the fight (that’s what it was for the pro boxing world… not a bout) “And now we have the next fight of the night. Ladies and gentlemen, we have Jose - The Mexican Gaucho – Delgado. He has an amateur record of 10 fights, 6 wins, 4 through knock out” And facing him from India is Naraindra – the Indian Sledgehammer – Maure. This kid has an amateur record of 25 fights, 25 wins 15 through knock out. And though both of them are making their debuts, we promise you to witness the cream of action in the 10 rounds that these men are gonna slug out.”

‘The Indian Sledgehammer. Wow. Who suggested this acronym, sir?”

“Well, I did since I didn’t know what else to give them ‘cause they just came to me at the last moment and told me that this is a trend in the world of pro boxing that each boxer has a tagline with which he will be known in the fraternity. And since I didn’t have anything made up already, I thought of Peter Gabriel’s song and suggested the name.”

“Okay. So do I destroy his building within the time limit?”

“Be my guest, son.”

Both the boxers were ready and waiting to get into the ring to go after the other’s throat. The cheer girls escorting the both of them from the opposite ends of the arena. Narendra was accompanied by a blonde who had the demeanor of a college girl. She was dressed in a red and white two piece. Her assets bobbing with pride. It seemed that she was quite confident that she could bet a million dollars on the boxer who she was accompanying and go home rich.

Delgado was accompanied by a Hispanic girl. She had straight dark hair and dressed in a blue outfit that complimented her olive skin. And Delgado being the brute that he was, did try to rub his elbow a couple of times to her full breasts. ‘hey gorgeous, can we have a beer after I knock this tribal out?’ She smiled a very formal smile lest he be angry.

The bout started with both the boxers gauging each other. And since the fight was scheduled for ten rounds, both had time on their hands. However, Delgado was showing signs of restlessness. He was in some kind of a hurry to get through with this more experienced but level headed challenger. Oops, what was he thinking of himself? Was he the defending champion?

The first round ended. Both the boxers were quite fresh, having had not much exchange of blows. Govind Sir knew in his heart of hearts that Naru would win this one. However, what was not in the prediction range was which round will be the last. The gong was sounded for the second round to begin. Delgado charged Narendra More and landed a couple of jabs to his abdomen. And when Narendra was unsteady, he started to charge him again in a bid to finish off the fight in that moment. However, the referee stepped in and administered the standing count. He knew that both the boxers were new and they would have to be taken care of. At the end of the count, when Narendra showed signs of readiness, the referee restarted the fight. However, there was hardly any time left for the gong to signal the end of the round.

In the corner, Delgado was getting more and more flustered at not having the opponent floored so that he can take that Hispanic chic out for a beer… and then possibly to bed. His seconds’ advice fell on deaf ears. He was too busy envisioning his victory ceremony and the chic and the beer. And that proved to be his undoing. Because the Queen’s language has given us so many proverbs that teach us of how to (or not to) live life. One of them is ‘Haste is Waste’.

The next round saw Delgado coming out with so much aggression that at one point in time, it was thought by the crowd that the stats of the Sledgehammer were just eyewash. He started the round with an unthought of punch. He started the round with a flurry of uppercuts. And after getting inside More’s defenses and starting the infighting, which did surprise Narendra. The sound of the gong sounded sweet for the first time in all these years.

In the corner, Govind Sir didn’t go into much of the usual seconding that he had stuck to doing till the last round. He just told Narendra ‘hey Champ, why are you giving this phirang public a wrong impression that your career stats are nothing but eyewash?’ ‘That’s it. We are here to win this belt, not to show the legendary Indian hospitality.’ ‘Kill the Mexicano.’

And to his surprise, he saw from the corner of his eye that the blonde who had accompanied him, came back from her round of the ring portraying the round number to start and whispering. ‘I have faith in you.’ This was something that he was totally unprepared for. And the thought process was ‘hey even this blonde is seriously vying for my victory.’

The gong was sounded. The round began with Delgado rushing to his opponent like a bull seeing red. However, the sledgehammer was ready and waiting for him. He just took one step back and landed a perfect counter right to the charging Delgado’s right eye. And since the bull was charging blindly, he couldn’t contemplate anything like this. Forget plan B. The result was a bleeding right eye for the Mexican hoodlum. And the bout was stopped. The medics were summoned. The doctors diagnosed that the injury was not very serious and that Delgado had the option to continue if he wanted.

However, the Mexican hoodlum – the nickname given to him by the press in the following day’s headlines – had a jolt out of a clear blue sky and he was back to his dressing room. Beaten truly black and blue. He was missing his country and the crowbar. But if he used it here, he would run the risk of being outlawed even here. So better sense prevailed and he decided to return home and work in his step father’s super market.

The camp of the sledgehammer was on cloud nine. They knew that Naru would win. But the

margin was not expected. And the humbling of the ‘hoodlum’ was no mean feat for this Indian underdog. The term ‘Underdog Sledgehammer’ was a term that was doing the rounds albeit secretly, especially after this sudden and unexpected win. However, maybe the term will not be used for this new phenomenon in the world of Pro Boxing for Narendra for some time.

The new found confidence put Narendra on top of the world. He and his team would be famous as the new guys on the block. And when he left for Mumbai, he was not just rich in bank balance but he had his first number of a female in his mobile.

Jennifer was yearning for Narendra to come back for more. And she had started dreaming of being with him, not just as his pom pom girl but his girlfriend. And the days were not the same for her. She returned to her day job at McDonald’s with a new spring in her step. Her friends did recognize that extra spring in the steps of this southern belle who had migrated to the big apple in pursuit of a dream of a better life. However, when she arrived at the Big Apple and moved in with her then boyfriend, she found out that the promises and the assurances that Johnny had given her were very frugal. In fact, he was a peddler and a part time hustler too.

This was too much for the simple southern girl to bear. In fact, she thanked her lucky stars and the strict upbringing that forbade her from hitting the bed with her love interest within days of knowing each other, which many of the girls in this big city had been known to do.

-CHAPTER TEN-

On his return flight home, Narendra was a totally different person. He would be found mostly lost in thoughts, of the southern blonde, who had graduated from being his mascot to being his love interest. He would spend hours thinking about her. Sometimes, he would also have the fear of him losing her since they were half a world apart. It was not a normal romance where boy meets a local girl, proposes, gets accepted and then they start seeing each other.

In this case, the sheer geographical distance and also the cultural differences had the potential to either make this relationship an unique one or fizzle out due to the geographical distance. Another bone of contention for the champion was that she was an American, who may not adjust to living in India or with his family, who were a tad orthodox. Anyways, he thought, let’s cross the bridge when it comes.

The flight touched down at Mumbai airport and after the formalities of customs and security was done with, he was happy in the cab that he had taken to reach home. He would be back with his people after a prolonged absence of more than a month. It was the same routine for him, albeit with a bit of a detour for a couple of hours at night, since it was at that time Jennifer would be online and they could have those moments that they were looking forward to everyday. She told him that she had mentioned about him to her friends and that they were happy for her. And that she would be telling her parents about him too. Narendra was happy and he found that for the first time ever he blushed. That was strange for him. And the rest of the days would be normal for him.

On one of his trips to the gym from his home, Govind Sir met with an accident that would put him out of action for some days. However, Narendra was advised by both Sir and his team to report for practice every single day, barring Sunday. And committed as he was to both, the game and his mentor, he would do as he was advised. Although the injury to Govind Sir was not serious, he would not be able to come to the gym for at least a month since he had fractured his right hand and had cuts and bruises on his face and arms as a tempo had knocked him down when he was crossing the road.

After being in bed for a fortnight, he was discharged from the nursing home. Although the doctors advised him to take rest and not move about much, he would make his trip to the gym everyday so that he can watch over Narendra’s practice and also that he had other boxers who would be scattered if he were not around.

A week after his discharge from hospital, he had a call from JK, who had called him to tell him that there was an invitation from the WBA and that they were keen to have him fight their main contender for the title of the super featherweight title to have a fight with More. Govind

Sir would be happy to have Narendra fight this guy. So, the two chatted awhile about the nitty gritty of the fight and it was decided that they would meet in three months’ time.

This news was broken to both, Narendra as well as Dubash, who was quite happy that his investment was paying off well. As for Narendra, he was over the moon and as soon as he got the opportunity shot an email to his lady love that he would be there in three months. And Govind Sir was raring to go with the training sessions. However, it was not possible for him since the doctors had advised him complete rest for about two months at least. He would still be at the gym for the emotional support that Narendra was so addicted to and also those shoutings that Govind Sir would utter from time to time had a charging effect on the boxers. And as time passed, they would be so accustomed to it that if Sir was quiet on any day, the guys would feel that he is not in the mood or is sick or that something is not in order.

It was one of those days when because of his injury and the doctor’s advice, he would not be able to take active part in the practice sessions with Narendra. But, he still would be in touch with the team on his mobile about Narendra’s progress and the preparation for the fight. The said fight would be held in about twenty days. So, he started the countdown to the day. And the training began to gather more steam than normal.

-CHAPTER ELEVEN-

The number one contender for the title was a young but experienced pro. At 32, John Little had a record that would give even the defending champion, George Sullivan a chill in his spine. Little, an orphan was brought up in a poorhouse in the city of New York. He had seen the downs and lows of the mean streets of the Big Apple. He was nearly killed in a gang war. But fate had a course chartered for him that would bring him face to face with the sledgehammer. And so he survived the fight with 30 stitches in different parts of his body.

He was introduced to the game much the same way as Narendra More was. And yet he did have a rather subdued start and an on and off career which read 25 bouts, 15 wins, 5 Kos. And

yet he was anything but a humble guy. In fact, when he was in his late teens, he had a chance meeting with the woman who gave birth to him and deposited him on the steps of a church to whatever might be his fate. She recognized him immediately when she saw him because he resembled his father very much. However, by now he had accepted that he was an unwanted sidekick to the show that was known as life. And he disowned her. Later, he would say with the least amount of remorse in his eyes. “The bitch deserved the fate that she met because of what she did to me”. His mother was found dead at forty eight, looking like she was sixty, raped by a gang of six teens, who couldn’t get her to have sex with all of them for a fee. Later, it was found that they were from the same gang that Johnny used to hang out with. And on that fateful day, he was in prison for a misdemeanor charge.

He had the perfect ingredients for being in the rough and tumble of contact sports. He did try his hand at some like karate, muay thai, judo, etc. However, he was more influenced by the stories of all time greats like Mike Tyson, George Foreman, Evander Holyfield, etc. and would end up in a boxing gym. Although he had a keen interest in the game, he would have a nagging problem of attention deficiency. He would start the practice session but then within an hour or so would lag behind even the new boxers. This would lead his coach to reprimand him a few times and also turn him away from the gym. Whatever his coach would do to get him off the game, he would be back to the gym the very next day.

This would go on for months. One day, tired of these antics but impressed at his perseverance, his coach just went alongwith his shamelessness and trained him. A first for him since he would never tolerate such thick skinned behavior and lack of discipline from any of his earlier boxers. Finally, he was put through to his first fight with another local lad in a local competition which if he won would land him, in the long run, the national boxing team. He did participate in the tournament and came a cropper. He won the first gold medal of his life. That new found glory put him in the limelight and he started consciously liking the practice and he would tour the length and breadth of USA for many different boxing championships at various levels.

His coach, Martin Smithson was himself a prodigy in the game. He had started with the right kind of training and the right kind of attitude and also the right amount of support going for him. He was the spoilt son of a wealthy business magnet, who would practice for several hours a day and then rest, have fun with the many girls that he could get. However, all that changed one day when he met with an accident when he was on his way back from one of his drinking binge parties. That accident stopped his dreams of becoming a world beater in the pugilist arena. However, he was not a complete cripple. He did finish his education and got into his dad’s

business. However, he didn’t have much to contribute to the already well settled business. So he turned his attention to the one game that he had dreamed he would be a world beater in.

Although, he couldn’t be the world beater that he wanted to be so dearly, he vowed that he would one day produce a champion so great that his would be a record no one could even think of emulating, let alone beating. Of course, he too had his near hits and misses. It would take him nearly a decade of toiling hard with the many boys and girls (that would come watching Laila Ali) and then having a handful of them persevere. And even then, just a couple of them would be good enough to be pushed into the professional ring.

On one of his trips in the neighbourhood, where he would stroll to pick up raw talents in addition to the ones who would come by their own accord, he chanced to see John Little, who at age twenty was well past the ideal age to be trained into a world beater. Yet, there was something about him that Mr. Smithson would never get his mind off. He pursued the young man relentlessly to convince him to let go this life of high risks and low returns and instead come to the gym and practice to be a world beater of a boxer. Someone like Mohammed Ali or the others mentioned before.

Everytime he met Mr. Smithson, he would try to either avoid him or when caught unawares, he would show his unwillingness to adjust and live a life of discipline and the idea of giving up the Huckleberry Finn type of life that he had so grown used to. Smithson was ready to give up, when one day Johnny was seen being driven off by a patrol car. When Mr. Smithson contacted the police station that he was dumped in to be produced before a court the next day, he swiftly pulled the right strings and got the unruly guy out on bail and a personal assurance bond of $100,000.

On the way back, Smithson asked him to come and join him and leave this life of being an unworthy loser, he went home to his ghetto and cried like a baby. It was surprising that a guy who didn’t shed a tear when he heard the news of his mother’s rape at his own friends’ hands and her consequent death, was so overcome with emotion. The very next day, he reported to the address that Smithson had given him after he let him go, on his release from prison.

He never looked back after that. He just focused on the game that was going to place him at the top of the world in the days to come. In the ensuing days, he would get into the ring and fight as if his life depended on it. However, he did have his share of spills and thrills in the square ring. He was regarded as a silently brutal demolisher in the ring. He would let his opponents gather all the steam he could in the initial rounds of the bout and wait till the last couple of rounds when he could move in for the kill. He had also heard of the Indian Sledgehammer and his reputation for quick kills or victories in the ring. And he thought it will be an easy bout since the Sledge hammer, because of his fetish with the quick finishes would be very low in the stamina department, which was his forte. Also, he had mastered the art of enduring heavy punishment in most of the fights that he featured in. His opponents would start the fight in great enthusiasm and speed, hoping to finish the fight within the first three or four rounds. But this American of mixed parentage, maybe had the right kind of genes to endure the hardest punishment and yet take the fight to the fag end to get the opponent in the right spot, mentally broken down so that he can finish him at his own leisure.

In fact, it was said that you cannot predict the outcome of the fight even when the opponent is leading in the whole fight. That is because Little could spring a surprise even in the last seconds of the fight and knock the opponent out cold. He had done exactly that with a South African Augustus McMillan, who was quite burly to behold and yet was within the weight parameters of the feather weight category. McMillan started the fight with a great flurry and with the passing of every round of their scheduled 13 round bout, he carved injuries to the body of Little.

Even in the final round, Little was being beaten and it seemed that with every blow, he was enjoying the fight. However, when the referee stopped for the final count, he whispered to the referee that he will kill his opponent in the remaining seconds of the bout. And believe it or not, he did exactly that. When the referee restarted the bout, the clock showed just twenty five seconds to go before the final gong to signal the end of the fight. And it was then that he clinched his opponent and whispered in his ear “You will need a stretcher, mate.” His opponent broke the clinch and just as he was about to throw a right jab, Little dodged the jab, weaved into the defenses of the big Protea and wham!! He uppercut exactly into the big South African’s solar plexus. The Big guy just fell like the twin towers in a heap on the ring canvass. Doctors immediately scampered on the ring and tried locating his pulse. But to no avail. The South African Jumbo had been felled. He lay there dead. And Little was the victor. He walked away with the $1 million purse for the match.

This was the rogue that Naru would be facing in about three months time. He was not in any kind of tension since he had faith in his game, coach and the Almighty. And now, he had the additional support of Jennifer, who would always be there to cheer him on. Also, now he would enter the ring to the cheering of crowds shouting “Sledgehammer, sledgehammer” all the time. And the emotional guy that he was, he would feel an extra surge of adrenaline rush through his blood. And he would then make the crowd proud by doing what they wanted him to do.

In fact, there was a group of his fans who would spread across the arena and try to influence those around them to urge Narendra to finish the fight in a particular round. However, with Little, they would have a tough time cheering Narendra to stop this ‘dagad’ or ‘stone’ since he could take any amount of punishment and that too for as many rounds as he can endure. Of course, this endurance was built over the years. However, this also had taken a toll on his overall health and the aging of his brain. His team of doctors had given him an ultimatum for his health. They had told him to stop fighting the way he did – and in fact, was told to retire immediately. However, John Little was not to be convinced since he had grown addicted to this way of going about his bout.

-CHAPTER TWELVE-

On the designated day of the fight, Narendra More reported at the arena. However, his support team wore a different look that day. He had one additional member, Jennifer, the new member of the team was not a pom pom girl anymore, but his fitness guide and his permanent pillar of emotional support. That certain someone who would not just be with him at the ringside in boxing, but also in all the bouts that he would fight throughout his life. However, there was an important absenteeism in this fight. And that was Govind Sir. He couldn’t make it to this fight since he had lost a near one and he had to remain back in India for the funerals and the mourning period which would span a fortnight. By the time he would be through with that, Narendra would be done with his fight and would already be on his way back.

Narendra was well aware of the fact. And he was instructed by the team to not think of anything else but the upcoming fight. Especially since the opponent this time was a person bereft

of emotion and feelings especially of pain. And that Naru would have to endure being in the ring, which was going to be nothing short of a torture chamber – for the full thirteen rounds and come out triumphant.

The crowd was ranting “Sledgehammer, sledgehammer” and the atmosphere was electrifying. The normal razzmatazz of pro boxing was taking place. The announcers were shouting hoarse about the upcoming potboiler being just a degree short of the title fight. In fact, this fight had the presence of two mighty names from the world of pro boxing. Mike Tyson had come down to witness the fight and of course there was the reigning world champion of the featherweight division, Sugar Ray Leonard Jr. who was there just to make an appearance for the WBA charity event after the fight. Maybe he was there also to see the reality of the stories that he had heard of the human stone wall, John Little.

What surprised him though was why was the crowd ranting the name of a relatively unknown boxer and that too from a country that had never produced any pro boxer in the past hundred years? And that roused his imagination more. And instead of his proposed presence of ten minutes as a goodwill gesture, he decided to witness the whole thirteen rounds.

The fight was about to commence. The initial formalities were completed by the referee in attendance, Mr. Ike Johnson, himself a veteran of over a hundred fights. The people at the venue would of course come to witness the fights. However, not every fight was an edge of the seat affair. In fights such as those, the antics of Mr. Johnson were a treat to watch. However, he was of course wise enough to not steal the limelight from the main stars of the show if they dished out what was expected from them.

But, maybe this particular fight would be a test for him too since, given the reputation of Mr. Little, he may have to bring out his antics to enliven the show till the main contender for the title was ready for the final showdown. Anyways, ‘let’s not cross the bridge before it comes’ thought Mr. Johnson and proceeded to read out the rules, the do’s and don’ts of the fight. Of course, history is witness to the infamous ear biting episode, which was of course not a part of the deal for ‘The Real Deal’ Evander Holyfield when he fought Mike Tyson.

-CHAPTER THIRTEEN-

At the sound of the gong, Narendra was already out of his blocks and ready for his opponent. Little, however, was taking his own sweet time to come to the centre and dodge and weave to the initial jabs from Narendra More. The Indian Sledgehammer was just trying to warm up too since he knew that he would have to put the whole of his endurance training out for the world to know that even he could resist the urge to go out for a kill right from the beginning. However, when you are up against an opponent who can stand there and take unlimited amount of blows for over an hour or more, one does tend to get frustrated.

That is exactly what was starting to happen to Narendra, and he was starting to attack Little. However, Little was already prepared for such a ploy since that was his forte. And he just ducked, weaved, parried till the end of the round. Of course, he did throw a couple of jabs at Narendra, not to hit him. But if he didn’t even pretend to throw a single jab, he would run the risk of having his license suspended by the WBA. And everything would come to naught. Of course he was a darling of the paying crowd, the book makers loved him and his opponents feared him like everybody fears death. The round finally ended. Not much scored by either boxers.

In the corner, he was surprised to see someone other than Govind Sir seconding him. But Alen, sensing his unease, steadied him and said “Don’t be surprised champ. Sir hasn’t come with us on this trip, remember?” That put Naru at ease and he started breathing deeply, which would re-energize him to face the next round. He was advised not to waste his energy at trying to knock the opponent out early since ‘whether you bang your head on stone or bang the stone on your head, the head will bleed and not the stone.’ Advice taken.

The gong sounded the start of the next round. And again, the same game of cat and mouse restarted. Both the boxers were again sizing each other. The sequence was played over and over again till the seventh round. In the middle of the seventh round, Little suddenly had a rush of adrenaline and started attacking without provocation. This surprised not only Narendra, but also

the referee, the seconds (of both boxers) and the crowd as well. Even Narendra, experienced as he was with the ways of the many boxers that he had faced in all these years was taken aback. He did receive a couple of jabs to his head and reeled a bit. However, he also recovered in time to dissuade his opponent from continuing the attack. The round ended and the crowd heaved a sigh of relief for the sake of their new hero, Narendra.

The last and crucial phase of the fight would begin from the next round. Alen, although an experienced hand at assisting Govind Sir in many a bouts. But, he was in a quandary as to what advice should he give to Narendra in the dying minutes of this hugely draining fight with this boxer who would literally stand at a corner, getting beaten from his opponent, taking his opponents on a north bound trip. And then, in the last phase of the fight blow his opponent to pieces. Sometimes, with a flurry of punches, or at other times with a couple of well timed hooks and/or uppercuts to the vital parts of the human body that lay above the waistline, namely the solar plexus, the adam’s apple or the chin. A right punch to any one of the three points could render the best of the bodies to the ground within seconds. And as the Sledgehammer’s camp were trying to contemplate what advice would be forthcoming after the end of the eleventh round, everybody was surprised by Little again. He landed a strong left right combination to the face of the sledgehammer. And to everyone’s surprise, he was himself amazed at the clarity of his straight punches. This was because, although he was a tall boxer, he was better known for the killer hooks and lethal uppercuts, that are usually associated with shorter boxers, who have a disadvantage of a short reach and have to rely on getting inside the defenses of their taller opponents.

A minute which comprises of sixty seconds usually seems longer and is a welcome relief from the impending tensions of the rounds to follow. They are used by the team of seconds to advise their boxer of what to do and what not to do in the ensuing rounds, based on whatever has been happening till that point of time. However, this last interval seemed to whiz past as if it never came. In between a crucial point that Alen was making, Narendra heard the gong, motioned him that he will be okay and started to walk towards the middle. The round began.

The real monster that was hiding beneath the cool exterior was boiling with rage to get out as usual. However, some things are very difficult to comprehend and that is exactly what the crowd was surprised at. They started the last and most feared round of this bout without much fanfare. Although, Narendra did try to get to Little to finish him; Little was not very keen to finish off this little known challenger from an unknown country (to him or the pro boxing fraternity). He just wanted to finish this bout (and for a change, not the boxer). They did exchange glares and

punches; some of them hard ones to the body from Narendra. But this last round was more like a cockfight, with graceful moves from both the boxers. Exchanges were happening on and off.

Everybody in the stands, in the press enclosure, people watching live and on the sports channels were surprised at this sudden change of heart from an ogre. The gong finally sounded the end of the bout. Both the boxers shook hands and went back to their corners. The seconds of both the corners were surprised. But the words that flowed were of different magnitudes. Johnson seemed happy that Narendra was still alive and wouldn’t leave the ring on a stretcher or end up in a morgue after the fight. The result announced was not important for the sledgehammer’s corner; not just because he lost it, but that he wouldn’t go to India in a bodybag, like many of the previous opponents of Little.

When everything was over, Narendra was in his dressing room, getting ready to leave for the hotel and the comforting arms of Jennifer. He heard a polite knock on his door. Thinking that his lady couldn’t wait for him to come to her, he started to tell her that he would be with her in no time and opened the door. And he was surprised at what he saw.

-CHAPTER FOURTEEN-

John Little was at the door. Narendra, surprised at first welcomed him into his enclosure and the conversation that they had made friends out of two people who were baying for each other’s blood just some time ago. What was more surprising for Narendra was that although even Little was as injured and tired as he was, he had come down to his dressing room to pay him a visit. John Little told him what no other opponent had ever said to him and would speak volumes of this guy’s character. He said “Hey that was a great fight. I enjoyed it every moment. And what separates you from the pack is that you were as gentlemanly as anyone could possibly be. I have read about you and heard from my sources that you come from a slum. However, your behavior in and out of the ring have surprised me buddy. It seems like you are royalty. To this Narendra, the son of a lowly house maid and a hand cart puller smiled and replied “I agree that I have had humble beginnings, that I was born and brought up in the largest slum in all of Asia. I also agree with whatever information that you may have gathered about my father, my mother and my upbringing. But let me tell you something, buddy. In college, my favorite subject was Psychology. And psychology had taught us that a person is made up of not just genetics but also

the company that he keeps. And I have been fortunate that I have chosen the right kind of company ever since I was a ten year old kid. I chose to be a boxer. And my coach and mentor saw that, took it to be his raw material and promised to make me a champ. And I think he has fulfilled his promise.”

“However, what pains me is that I do not have him by my side today since he had a personal tragedy and is in mourning. He would have been really proud of this moment. And he would have surely congratulated me for the fact that in spite of being defeated in the ring for the first time in my entire life, I have earned the accolades from a person who is reputed to be a killer in the ring. Anyways, I would advise you to take a break from your schedule of boxing, go on a vacation. In fact, you should come to India. We will train you to fight… sorry box in a way that is least damaging to your health and which will make you a winner, even if you lose a bout. We call it holistic Boxing.”

‘Holistic Boxing. Wow, there was a certain ring to it.’ In fact, Johnny had never heard anything like this before. He could almost feel an aura around him. He immediately decided to make a trip to India, get his bearings right and to also alter his way of seeing his forthcoming fights… sorry bouts. Of course, he postponed his championship fight with the reigning champion for a further six months. During this time he hoped to make the trip to India, get the feel and knack of this new brand of boxing and also try a hand at a different approach of a fuller bout of pugilism, where he would not hang around and wait and wait till the opponent broke down and then move in with the full brutal force that would surely kill his opponent. Instead, he would try to discharge periodic bursts and concentrate on preserving his sanity and the rare commodity of sportsmanship, that was lacking in this rough and tumble of pro boxing.

Later in the year, Narendra More was personally invited to witness the championship bout between John Little, who was now known as the white Buddha, which was unofficially his nickname given to him by the fourth estate. This change of stance was a surprise to not just the press and public but also his opponent and defending champion, whom he defeated in the tenth round. But this time, he was involved in the bout right from the first bout. And he also remained unusually composed, not just a cold calm which was his previous trademark approach.

Meanwhile, back in India, Jennifer and Narendra got married. They had two kids, who are yet to

make their choices of sports clear to Poppa, as they would call Naru. Govind Sir is continuing with his lifelong passions of Boxing, writing, smoking and a life of chronic bachelorhood. He one day plans to write his autobiography. But fears that on the one hand, it would turn out to be as thick as the Indian constitution and on the other hand, would expose the not so enjoyable details of an also ran boxer. So he is still contemplating it, just like he had contemplated this novel and nearly given up writing it for a full year when he was laid off from a job that he quite enjoyed.

As for John Little, he has since hung up his gloves and is into sports goods manufacturing, specializing in Boxing gloves, Ring shoes, and other equipment that is used in the sport. He wants to set up a worldwide organization that will promote not just pro Boxing, but is also coordinating with his new mentor, Govind Sir who has ideas constantly popping in his mind about new ventures, ideas or new ways to run an old business. He is a surprise package, as someone told him that he is a strange combination of brain and brawn because he also plays chess, besides boxing. And has also written quite a lot of content for blogs and websites.

About Rajesh Rao

A serial entrepreneur and a true jack-of-all-trades, the author has been changing paths while not amassing wealth, but tons of experiences, which he uses as fodder for his upcoming fiction novels.

Connect with Rajesh Rao

www.facebook.com/coolscorp

www.linkedin.com/rajeshrao

www.planb4marsenterprises.com

###