Carrom was the favorite passtime at the hostel. I often spent a couple of hours a day at the board. I was once playing someone much better than I. He was reputed to be the best player in the hostel. It was late, so there were only the two of us, and no crowd waiting for their turn at the board.
We played a few turns. I was a little down, as expected. Then a funny thing happened. It was my turn, and the board was particularly complicated. It would take something fancy to drop a coin.
My opponent came over to my side of the board, analyzed it, and started suggesting various shots.
“What the hell are you doing? Why are you helping me? I’m playing against you, remember?”
“Who cares who’s playing against whom? I want to make the game more interesting.”