The Faking
Match point. Not only was a tournament win at stake, but a 7-day training session at Singapore Tennis Association’s prestigious tennis camp. The crowd went silent and my hands felt clammy. I tossed the ball up, brought the racket down and the ball whizzed past my stricken opponent. Ace!
A few days later, my prize arrived in the mail. When I opened it up, to my surprise, there was a ticket for two people. Yay!
But, how do I take my dad, whose dream is to play at this very camp and not take my best friend who finished 3rd in that very tournament? I was over the moon, but at the same time, perplexed, what should I do?
The camp was in a mere 48 hours, time was of the essence. I was set to leave in the morning. The night before my departure, I sat there pondering before a great revelation popped into my head.
I tiptoed into the kitchen and heated up some carom seeds. After popping them in a tissue, I kept it on my head and waited until my head was warm. I took my temperature, 39.0 degrees celsius.
I ran back to bed after hiding the fennel seeds and called out, “Mummy, I’m not feeling well. I don’t think I can go.”
After the typical Indian household drama of taking the temperature again and again and after drinking 10 glasses of hot water, I was deemed sick and I was tucked into bed and my dad and best friend went and enjoyed a week of fun at the camp. Mission accomplished!

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