Dear Virat, Why Must You Be So Goddamn Fit?

Humour

Dear Virat, Why Must You Be So Goddamn Fit?

Illustration: Akshita Monga

D

ear Virat,

This is Kulkarni, Santosh Kulkarni. I am an agent. Not like Bond, James Bond. I am an insurance agent. I am writing this letter because I have a problem. Let me get straight to the point, just like your pointed beard. Dear Virat, please stop being so fit.

I understand you are the captain of the Indian cricket team, an athlete, and Mr Anushka Sharma. But your fitness challenge has got me sweating.

Last weekend, my 16-year-old daughter Shweta showed Mrs Kulkarni something from your Instagram account. Why do you post your workout photos and videos to everyone on Instagram? What is so fascinating about watching a supremely fit young man, showcasing his perfectly crafted muscles to the world?

I don’t get it, but looks like the madness is starting to spread. You’ve gone from just showing off to actively challenging us – the online #FitnessChallenge. You challenged our Modiji, and he made all us all watch this video in which he tries to convince us that he is the original Captain Planet, toying with the elements of nature. If I were to attempt a starfish pose atop a rock like our PM, I would surely suffer a slipped disc. And I’d never be able to pull off that sassy workout look with three-fourth pants and a gamacha.

Yesterday, my daughter showed my wife a photo of your six-pack. She can look at young men’s photos if she wants, I am pretty open-minded that way. My problem is that after watching your ripped body, Mrs Kulkarni starts having high hopes for me. She doesn’t understand that I am 52, and even if I eat a whole poultry farm of protein I will not look like that.

Mrs Kulkarni was saying, “Come on Mr Kulkarni, you are the building’s secretary. What impression will you set with that belly?”

I told her I am the secretary, not a youth icon. I don’t run around international cricket fields making the country proud.  I sell life insurance. My unfit body is what puts food on our table. I tell people I have high blood pressure, high cholesterol, high fat. Except my income, everything is high. I say I am just like you. I can die anytime. You can also die anytime. Please take life insurance.

Yesterday, I saw an advertisement where you were eating chips. I told her, “See, he eats chips! Now please let me eat my favourite potato chips from Sathaye Farsan Mart.”

But she didn’t buy my excuses. Just like you, once Mrs Kulkarni thinks of something, she gets it done. Now, she has given me some type of wristband, something called FitBit, that spies on me. It records how many kilometers I have walked and all that nonsense. And I only get food if that stupid device shows her the desired numbers. You remember how tense the dressing room atmosphere was when Anil Kumble was in-charge? That’s the situation in my house right now.

Yesterday, I saw an advertisement where you were eating chips. I told her, “See, he eats chips! Now please let me eat my favourite potato chips from Sathaye Farsan Mart.” But no. My wife turns around and tells me that those chips that you eat are healthy. What are healthy chips? This is just like saying Australian cricketers don’t sledge.

But I understand. You’re a sporting icon with an image to maintain. All I’m asking is that you recall this #HumFitTohIndiaFit insanity before oldies like me get a stroke. You are free to be fit of course. After all, you have to run between the wickets with MS Dhoni who is a cheetah with two feet.  So yes, stay fit but please don’t post so much on social media. And if you still have to, please find some way to block Mrs Kulkarni. All the best for the England tour. And , I’m serious, do let me know if you want life insurance.

Yours truly,

Santosh Kulkarni.

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