Bura jo khelan main chala !

this is my tale of plight that i had the other day. plz read the following with a bit of compassion for me all through the read!!!!
I had a time of my life yesterday in a TT club here. There is this dangerous guy , who is known in the city sheerly due to his TT playing abilities. Hes' the captain cum coach of the district team that we have and often represents the state in sm events. Hes' as dangerous to look at as is his game. 80-90 kgs of meat stacked somehow in a skeleton frame...... on his face ,only the white of the eye is distinctly visible (may be due to its comparative color contrast.) You didnt need to stretch you imagination too far to conceptualize how Mahisasur would have looked. You only need to look at him and here you are, standing in front of mahisasur in blood and flesh.
You know those frnds of mine, they as they are threw a challenge on him that I play good TT and that I ll beat him.(in the game of TT ,that is. make no confusions)...
so you know ,,,,, pehla game to 21-2 se haar gayein ...( was not getting any clue of his serves, even all my smashes flew all across, but for the table, and on my serves he would smash(read smack) so hard that five red spots would appear on my thighs and arms instantly in each round of my serves.)
then in the second game I carried on the fight up to 21-4.(the ball seemed to dance to his racquet's tune and i was left a helpless spectator to those spinning smashes and serves.).That demon would grin at me with his each smash or serve of his. believe me had it not been for his giant built up, He would have been a dead man by now.. but his biceps (which incidently were as thick as my thigh muscles) restrained me from such ideas.
Nyways game three,21-8. but by now I had started noticing that he was very temperamental and would yell at himself for each wrong shot he played..
Well... this was my chance. It was now or never for me. Do or die(read lie), Prashant!....
I told(beguiled, lied to) him that his style of smash delivery was totally erroneous and that he should improve upon it. i shadow smashed few shots to demonstrate it to him. I even told him that his basics were totally wrong. I followed it up with few other tips too, knowing fully well that he was getting irritated with each of my suggestions .(how can a menial creature like me teach him the basics of TT ,the game in which he represents the city??)
well..... the iron was hot, it only needed me to give it a gentle strike and I , to your fullest of assurances ,very efficiently, did it and without any mercy.
. :-)
game 4.... 13-7. With the demon to serve. the stage was all set for him to route me with another show of his superiority. But .. but...hey, what r frnds for?
With each smash and point that the beast robbed of me, he was greeted with anti cheers(cheer for me ) and all the other discouraging compliments for him like , a frnd of mine yelled at him that.... iss se ghatia shot aaj tak nahi dekha maine? with other one adding that he only plays spin and is a very limited player...
perhaps this irked him and it was followed by a series of too many unforced errors from him.( accompanied with ear deafening yells which threatened to crack open the glass windows of the club ).
and here i was ,16-19. I was to serve. As a last nail to his coffin, I gestured to him to play straight which in any case he was doing. That soared his temperature to 106^F. with hands tumbling with anger, each of my four serves were greeted with a mach 3 returns.... but ... outside the playing area, with my frnds cheering me like a craze. this took him totally off the ground.
finally I was leading ,could you believe it, i wasn’t.?? .. without showing him my disbelief of the situation, i served it to him and stood like a helpless lamb waiting for the Martian to smack it at any place he wished it to. But God gracious, The Devil netted the ball with all force that he had.. Poor net...... it met with its untimely demise due to the ferocity of the last shot...
Could you believe it, I HAD WON... I had won against this beefy creature.
He could not believe it either. He stood his ground in sheer disbelief.
He was tasting his own medicine and me, the sweet lime soda.