Narain Karthikeyan probably will not have time on Sunday to pause and think on the what-ifs of his career. What if Jordan hadn’t come around when they did? And what if his father had agreed to let him take up his first love, rally driving? On such split-second moments do great achievements hang. According to schoolmate and rallyist Naren Kumar, the period before he signed the Jordan contract was the bleakest in Karthikeyan’s life. ‘‘Off the track, he was always cool. But at that point, he seemed to have lost his will. He was flustered, angry. Twice earlier, he had been offered a seat with Formula 1 but he was done in by the sponsorship factor,’’ recalls Kumar. Rough patches are nothing new to Karthikeyan. As a child, he was deeply in love with rally-driving. His father’s ‘‘No, it’s not safe’’, however, put paid to the cross-country dreams. And then an F1 video made its way to their home television, courtesy a cousin’s friend from Germany. ‘‘That tape of the 1989 season—when the Senna vs Prost rivalry was at its peak—changed it all,’’ recalls Karthikeyan Sr. Watching the video over and over, life changed tracks for Narain, and his family couldn’t help but notice. ‘‘When I realised he was really passionate about the sport, I promised to help him fulfill his goals,’’ says his father. Once Narain completed his schooling (from Stanes High School in Coimbatore), his father kept his word and sent him off to train in France. The preliminary course, for which he enrolled, proved to be too easy, and Narain joined the advanced batch. ‘‘He was the only easterner in a group dominated by Americans,’’ recalls Karthikeyan Sr. But that made little difference to the youth, who’d alreay decided on his motto: Outdo the rest. After finally acquiring a racing licence in England—he’d just met the age bar of 17—Narain drove in the Formula Vauxhall series. Back home in India, the Formula Maruti was his first home race series. If his mentor in India was his uncle Karivardhan—a renowned name in Indian motorsport — Narain found a rival-cum-tutor in Akbar Ebrahim on the famed Sriperumbudur track. Thirteen years his senior and far more experienced, Ebrahim quickly spotted Narain’s unique talent: ‘‘He drove from the heart. Racers are usually far more mechanical and clinical.’’ Ebrahim, who had learnt the ropes from Karivardhan himself, soon became Narain’s coach. ‘‘We practised for part of one season. The next season, Narain matched my pace,’’ recollects Ebrahim. ‘‘He was very confident. very fast on corners, and not worried about what would happen when he was taking them.’’ By this time, Narain was already being hailed as the ‘fastest Indian’, and the country’s first possible shot at F1. But media coverage could not wish away the one bugbear of all Indian sportspeople: finances. ‘‘He had done the 1994 Formula Asia series on his own, and was raring to go. Since it was too expensive for me, I lent him the car,’’ says Ebrahim. ‘‘With just half-a-season to go, Narain was quite impressive in the races he drove. His talent was natural, something not very common even among racing drivers, but he lacked finesse.’’ The most important lesson he ever gave Narain? ‘‘I told him he could not win races if he did not treat his tyres well. This was something he had to learn. But Narain is sharp, and that reflects in his feedback to his engineers.’’ At 28, Narain is a latecomer to the F1 circuit, Ebrahim agrees. ‘‘I’d say it’s taken him at least three to four years longer (than comparable drivers from other countries). Narain probably drove his best race in 2000 in the Formula 3 championships—and he logged the worst finish, too, in the same race (when he disregarded the engineers’ ‘‘back off’’ instructions, braked too late and crashed into a wall).’’ But rough patches are nothing new to Karthikeyan. And today, he’s in the driver’s seat again. NEW RULES
