So the other day someone told me that this year F1 is coming to India. He was very excited about it and apparently for him, F1 coming to India is the next best thing after the Indian youth's discovery of Anna Hazare. Don't be surprised if you see Formula One fans wearing Gandhi caps during race day proclaiming "I am Michael Schumacher" in English and Marathi, he told me.
What you see below is a work a fiction, how I imagine this event to pan out with a flavor of "it happens only in India" .... in a lighter vein.
Race day was spectacular, people from different strata of the society had come to witness history in the making. The rich and the influential used their contacts to get free passes in grand stands. Couple of film stars who happened to buy a team or two were accompanied with their coterie all dancing to the loud blaring tunes of Daler Mehndi and Akon. Alcohol-barons and kings of good times were cockily gleaming with their toothy sons and long-legged actresses. Life could not be better, except for the Rs 32 per day daily wage earners who were frantically trying to fill up the potholes on the racetrack, formed due to the late night unexpected rains. They didn't have the slightest clue of why this shapeless stretch of tar was more important to be fixed than the roads leading to municipal hospitals. But he had a job to do, to keep his head above the 'poverty line'.
The initial delay for a couple of hours was because the local minister was late. Apparently he was in his farmhouse in the previous night and couldn't make it for the inauguration on time due to the traffic jams. Culprit - few protestors had blocked roads demanding for a separate state or reservation for their sub-sub-class, I forgot which one. Finally, after a meager delay of 4 hours, the minister arrived with his convoy, made some speech on population control and eradicating poverty, declared the games open and got back to his cell phone calling some relationship manager in a Swiss bank.
There was some more delay because some cow had squatted in front of the Ferrari and wont budge till it made its mark on the track. Our friend, the Rs 32 earner was called back to clean the act. Finally, the race started with some skimpily clad women did some cheerleading and walked off the tracks waving their checkered flags.
As the race proceeded, most of the laps were uneventful, except a few stray instances. Somewhere between the 15th and 20th lap our minister fell asleep, but not many realized because his rhythmic snores were effortlessly enveloped in the loud buzz those heavy duty Bridgestones. Sometime between the 25th and 30th lap there was a rumor that government has increased petrol prices by Rs 5 effective this mid-night, and that let to some spectators queueing up in McLaren-Mercedes and Renault pit lanes to get their tanks filled. It took some effort to usher them out of there, and the race went on.
If McDonalds can serve tikka masala burger and Dominos can serve tandoori paneer pizza in India, then F1 cannot be left far behind. Pit lanes were dotted with a hawkers selling mini flags, or young boys selling pirated copies of Paulo Coehlo or Jeffery Archer's latest. There was a speedbreaker just before the stretch of tar leading to the grand stand with huge hoarding strategically placed so that the Manikchand, Royal Challenger soda and Paneeri sari ads can get maximum eyeballs.
As the race drew to an end, someone nudged our minister out of his slumber and prepared him for the final award distribution. The stage was prepared yet again, this time wide enough to accommodate some 20 odd guests, 3 MDs from sponsoring companies, 2 local MPs, 5 members of Indian Car Racing board (this also included 4 more MPs as board members), 3 commentators and few other family members of MPs or board members who just managed to squeeze themselves on the stage.
Soon the organizers ushered everyone out of the arena because this same venue was chosen for Anna's next fast. And thus ended the famous raceday, the first one in India to make way for yet another fight against corruption.
