Second..errr

SCENE: It's M-27, Vikas Puri, Delhi - home to me (8 yrs), my younger brother Chimpu ( 4 yrs), and guest house to my Uncles and their friends (the able supporting cast). Both me and my brother are a source of amusement as always. It's early evening (4 pm), and the right time to think of a new game and play. Lately I hadn't been very innovative. We played games that I saw at school and later in the evening introduced a crude version of the same to my enthusiastic bro, pretty much like our dear bollywood. Today's game was - run. As we get set to race between two separately stretched and tied up sagging plastic ropes on our roof top terrace that earlier in the day shouldered a ton of wet clothes that dried by the Sun. One rope acted as the starting line, as both of us could stand under it comfortably. The finish line (the second rope) on the other hand was lowered to my waist height (and Chimpu's nose height). I had seen this at school. The finish line - rope was loosely tied so that the victor can cross and run some distance along with the rope (you do get the picture, right).

So chimpu has no clue about this, is what I presume. And I take it on myself to introduce him to Running-101, which I had seen a bunch of my classmates do at school after classes as we waited for the evening school bus back home.

He learns quickly, as always, and after a few practice runs, we do the FINAL. I manage to beat him in the first race comfortably (shameless me) and enjoy the new momemtary moment of victory, glory, superiority... and then get back to race again, looking for more of the same. So now Chimpu knows that the favoured outcome of this race is to finish first ( This was cleverly left untaught at running - 101 class) . He trudges back with me and we stand under the starting line again. I say the beautiful words (the privileges of being the director and the actor) ..."On your marks...get set..go.."and off we go again...I win. He is a bit sad now.

My dear Mama Tintin shows up on the scene suddenly. He has seen Chimpu lose the race and goes and whispers something into his ear. I am a bit disturbed at not getting some coaching advise, but hell...I could still win.

This time the race has an audience as other friends of Tintin turn up on the terrace. Tintin volunteers to act as the referee. I run with all my 8 year old energy and reach the finish line real quick. As I turn around, I am amazed to see my brother screaming out his heart happily and running crazy with "SECccccccOND.......................".

He is obviously delighted to have won the race, that I thought I had won. Apparently, Tintin told him that it was better to be second in the race than being first.

I was confused ....I still am.