So here goes the story. My clash with #RahulDravid in #Indiranagar. That morn, in Dec 2007, I woke up to a surprise call from my parents. They were gonna visit me in Bengaluru. There were a lot of surprises in that call, but none of would compare to what transpired later that day https://twitter.com/mathaijv/status/1380459419129933825

My dad had to get some medical tests to check the progress of #diabetes and some heart ailments. Obv, my parents couldn’t stay in the super amazing, slightly filthy, paying guest facility that I shared with five other boys.

Obv, I had to look for a place where they could feel at home, get food that is suitable for a sick man, and so on. That search took me to a small lane in Cambridge layout between Halasuru and #Indiranagar.

Finding places online was a lot less easier than it is now. I had sourced a number, spoken to the owner but still had to go see the place where I intended to put up my parents. Once I took the turn into the 2nd cross, opposite the #SBI, I had to find the right house.

As my red #Bajaj Platina cruised along, telling me to focus on finding the house. So, I swung my head left, then to the right, keeping up with the bike’s breezy drift.

It was slow enough for me to read the number on each house, and fast enough to be aligned with the next one by the time my head swung back. My right palm on the accelerator was as useful as a condolence text on #WhatsApp. So, the bike ambled without a roar.

I was getting #high on swinging my head from the right to left on the count of 3, and back to the right by the next 3. A few moments later, my face whizzed past a blurry presence right in front of the bike. I slammed the brakes before I could turn my face to the front.

It was too late. I had already #hit someone. It was as soft as a knock on the boss’ door, but abrupt enough to trigger rage. I was staring down still, with my bike tilted, and the front tyre turned away to avoid impact.

A couple of apologies had already slipped out of my mouth while the eyes probed the victim for any damage below the waist. If this was in the Mask movie -- yes, the Jim Carrey one -- my eyes would have been jutting out of the socket, all the way to the ground.

Clearly, the tyre hadn’t hit anything but there was definitely some impact. I had felt it. What was it? I was ready to lift my head up and look for signs from the victim. And what do I see? #RahulDravid caressing his left wrist.

The handle, turned and protruded, had knocked his wrist. That golden wrist! That part of #RahulDravid’s body that even the 100-milers could never beat. I did it at less than 20 km per hour.

A moment earlier, the Legend was waving goodbye to someone standing a few floors up inside The Good Earth Apartments, outside which a car (sent by the @TajHotels, I think) was waiting for him to board.

I had definitely opened my mouth to say “sorry” but all I did was blow some air. I was well within range for, arguably, a well-deserved slap but all he did was, at first, show me his full palm on the right hand. And then...

Rahul #Dravid twisted it all so slightly, and his fingers eased, in a very Indian gesture that meant to ask ‘Why?’ There were a million things I could have done at that moment.

Asked for an autograph. Pinch myself, or the legend in front me, to make sure it was all real. To this day, I wonder what chemical reaction caused my decision at the moment.

I called Mathew to ask if I should place an interview request on his behalf. I was with @IndianExpress , and he was with @ESPNcricinfo. #Dravid wasn’t even going to discuss it. It was absurd to start with. Even if Mathew had said yes...

The car had already moved with #dravid inside. But I persisted with the conversation I had started, aware of all the pointlessness. I had run into Dravid. I had never dreamed of seeing him. Not like this. It is still a dream. Those couple of minutes never sank in.

A couple of narrations later, I was reminded that there was a Test match against Pakistan in Bengaluru, around the same time. #dravid had scored 19 and 42.