We arrived at the indoor stadium at the Kalinga Institute of Industrial Technology (KIIT) in Bhubaneswar for the All India Dental Sports Summit, 2026, with a quiet sense of anticipation. Dentists from across the country had stepped away from clinics and routines to remind themselves that their identities extended beyond their profession.
Event Context
At 56 years, my own event was table tennis, and like many others, I arrived with that familiar mix of competitive excitement and simple joy that sport brings.
The first impression, however, was jarring.
What followed was a lesson in humility. Aligning players across age categories, recalibrating schedules, and creating a workable flow—particularly for the table tennis events—proved far more challenging than pointing out flaws. Discussions were prolonged, opinions differed, and patience was tested. Yet, as everyone realised that consensus meant play—and delay meant none—the tone softened. With the umpires involved, fresh draws were prepared and matches finally began.
And almost imperceptibly, the earlier resentment dissolved.
Once the ball was in play, attention returned to where it belonged: The table, the paddle, the spin, the return. Complaints gave way to strategy. Grievances were replaced by game plans. By evening, conversations revolved around missed shots, hard-fought rallies, and how to improve the next day.
It was striking how quickly the mind reorganised itself.
There is something deeply therapeutic about sport. When something larger replaces a smaller irritation, the latter simply fades away. Competition absorbs the mind completely—not through force, but through focus.
Perhaps this is what Swami Vivekananda was pointing toward when he remarked that one might be nearer to heaven through football than through the study of the Gita—not as a dismissal of scripture, but as a reminder that strength, engagement, and vitality are essential foundations for higher thought.
That day at the stadium was a quiet reminder: When purpose returns, friction fades. And sometimes, all it takes to reset the mind is a game that finally gets underway.
The writer is an Ambala-based prosthodontist and can be reached at vikasdeepak23@gmail.com
Match Outlook
The playing surface lacked proper matting, raising concerns about slips and injuries. Last-minute entries were allowed, rendering earlier draws meaningless. For participants who had travelled from far-flung places, this was discouraging. Most had come not merely to compete, but to prove—to themselves as much as anyone else—that they could do more than treat patients. That they could smash a shuttle, spin a paddle, strike a cricket ball cleanly, play a spirited game of kicker football, or find rhythm and precision at the table tennis table.
This passion for sport, running parallel to professional life, was the real reason many had closed their clinics for a few days to be part of this annual gathering.
I had attended an earlier edition of this event in Mumbai in 2023, where organisational shortcomings had left a similar aftertaste. A friend from Chandigarh and I had come away disillusioned enough to decide that we would skip the next one altogether. Yet Bhubaneswar drew us back—perhaps because of the added charm of the temple city, perhaps because of the pull of Jagannath Puri, or perhaps simply because passion has a way of calling again.
So when disappointment resurfaced, the rebel in us did too. Concerns were voiced, frustrations aired. Then came an unexpected response from the organisers: We were invited to help reorganise the event ourselves.
It was a moment when criticism met responsibility.
