Thanks to #2016KabaddiWorldCup, a small conversation of injuries ensued, with a colleague. For the few years that I have played Kabaddi, I have never seen serious injuries; me, my team mates, or my opponents. (My parents, without doubt, disagreed.) Young as we were, we bandaged even the smallest injuries. While it sounds (and definitely is) stupid now, injuries were conversation starters. Young men wanting to be in love understand the value of big bandages.
There were two reasons we didn’t like tincture. One, it stung, as if hell itself had descended where we were sitting. Second, it exposed the extent of the cut. There was no way to make it seem bigger that it actually was. Which, as you can imagine was a conversation non-starter. Big bandages made sense when you were in your late teens. Bandages were medals that weren’t celebrated.
Cut to 25 years later. Well, to today.
I have yet to find a knife that can cut through tomatoes, especially the wrinkled, sad, mushy tomatoes. This happened (See photo).
Needless to say, my ethos of demonstrating a cut has not changed. The cut is less than 3mm, but as you can see, the bandage is almost an inch.
Also, needless to say, the most important women in my life were concerned, and it started a conversation. For this miniscule cut, I have been advised bedrest. How can I not be in love with these two girls?
But I want this post to be less about starting conversations.
There aren’t knives in the market that cannot defeat wrinkled, old tomatoes. We need knives that cut through shrivelled tomatoes; not firm thumbs.
May there be better knives. And may I find them.
Perhaps, I will manage with small and appropriate bandages.