In an uncharacteristic display of unity and common sense, the members of the Bangalore Turf Club (BTC) actually managed to vote in favour of sweeping reforms that might—just might—restore some credibility to the institution. These long-overdue changes, especially in the structure of membership, seem to have been designed to soothe the ever-watchful eyes of the government. And for once, the members didn`t fall for the well-rehearsed theatrics of the usual suspects—those seasoned saboteurs whose idea of club service involves stirring the pot whenever they`re not handed the remote control to the committee room.

Yes, the Special General Body meeting held recently passed the resolutions, despite the doom-and-gloom chorus from BTC`s resident mischief-makers. These self-anointed saviours of the sport—whose sole purpose appears to be either occupying the throne or setting it on fire—got a rude shock this time. Their bluff was called. Loudly. Let`s hope the echo lasts.

And now, let`s address the elephant—or shall we say, the Twin Towers—in the room. These two charmers, Aravind and Ashok, who began their ascent from the obscure ranks of tote-disrupting background noise, have since become full-blown wrecking balls. Their alleged qualification? A conveniently timed claim to part-ownership of a racehorse. That flimsy credential propelled them straight into the Karnataka Racehorse Owners Association as Secretaries—though "Secretaries of Chaos" might be a more apt title.

Their track record? Oh, just a casual trail of destruction: derailing racing seasons, orchestrating paddock protests, singlehandedly ensuring the only Derby cancellation in Indian turf history, and generally treating BTC like their personal drama stage. And through all that drama, they somehow sweet-talked their way into membership—and beyond. One even scaled the summit to become Chairman... only to be unceremoniously ousted after the government slapped him with criminal charges, under sections 406, 409 including the notorious Section 420. Quite the résumé.

Let`s talk about His Legal Highness, Aravind Raghavan, who—despite currently facing serious criminal charges—still struts around as if the Turf Authorities of India need his divine guidance. This is the same gentleman who made himself a Permanent Invitee to TAI during his tenure as Chairman. His crowning achievement? Eroding the sport`s integrity to such a level that government interference became inevitable.

Aravind and Ashok possess the kind of slick-tongued charisma that convinces you they`re assets—until you check the balance sheet. One Karnataka minister who once took legal advice from Aravind is still nursing that particular regret.

One truly marvels at how these two seasoned performers still manage to send shivers down the spines of fellow members and office bearers every time a decision is even whispered about. It`s almost like a magic trick—only with fewer ethics and more melodrama. The Managing Committee, poor souls, lives in mortal fear of their daily dose of disinformation and political gymnastics. These two are full-time, round-the-clock practitioners of BTC politics—flipping stances with the agility of Olympic-level chameleons, depending entirely on which way the wind blows in their favour. Frankly, it`s baffling that their voices are still heard—when, by all logic, they should have been politely escorted to irrelevance with a comfy bench and a cup of nostalgia.

One particular incident sums it up: Aravind`s petty vendetta against a top trainer backfired spectacularly in court, which shredded the club`s position for violating natural justice. The result? A fat legal bill, a red face for BTC, and a courtroom reminder that personal grudges aren`t governance.

It`s high time the Turf Authorities of India did some spring cleaning of their own. Until Aravind clears his name (if ever), his “Permanent Invitee” tag should be permanently revoked. Because let`s face it—when your name is associated more with courtrooms than clubrooms, you don`t belong at the high table of Indian racing.