Before I even start I would like to give a big shout out to AKD and Josh, its the great articles they wrote that inspired me to tell my story to the world.
Growing up in my house wasn't always easy, we had our ups and downs like any family but when it came to wrestling we have always been loyal watchers, well when my mother wasn't around anyway.
My journey began when I was 7 years old, my uncle brought home Wrestlemania three tape, he was loud obnoxious and always had to swear, so when he did bring a tape home my mother first reaction was
"That's not a porno or anything like that." (now imagine that being said in a very strong indian accent)
"No, no, no it is just half naked men..."
My mother would interrupt, "No my son is going to become a gay."
Before they new it though i had taken the tape and started watching it, I was fixated with the flashy lights, the muscly men and the violence of course. This is when my love affair started with the WWF/WWE.
The problem with watching wrestling in the UK is it has always come on at 2 am which was obviously past any kids bedtime.
So I would have to watch all the re-runs, which was fine but with three other siblings and one TV it was never easy.
I had to convert my brother it was the only way forward.
Me and my brother became addicted, somehow I would always end up in a sharpshooter. He loved Bret Hart I was more of HBK fan and this lead to many great wars and the breaking of many beds.
Every Christmas we would write letters to Santa asking him to give us tickets to Wrestlmania, but my parents could never afford it.
I'll skip ahead nine years to when I was 16, this is when my passion for wrestling became my dream to become a wrestler.
My teachers at school would ask "what do you want to be when you leave school?"
When I would answer "I want to be a professional wrestler," they would almost laugh, but that was nothing to the disappointment I saw in my mothers eyes when i told her.
She wanted me to become a doctor or a lawyer not waste my time as a glorified stuntman. `
I started training anyway and got really good (well that's what I was told).
I came home one day to find the police parked outside my house, I knew I had not done anything. The door was already open with two officers in the house. I saw my mum sitting on the floor crying her eyes out.
"Mum...mum, what happened?"
I got no reply.
One of the police officers put his hand on my shoulder, my heart sank, I fell to my knees.
"Sorry son, it's your brother he was mugged and brutally attacked." I moved across the floor toward my mother.
My mum held my hand and said to me in gujarati, "Son he's gone, those animals took him away from us."
"He can't be dead, he just cant be"
My mum held me and we just cried, it was if time stood still, people came in and out of our house but all I cared about was taking care of my mum.
Those were the darkest days of my life I gave up every dream I ever had.
I went to college and university instead choosing as my darling mother would call a suitable career choice.
I am 23 now, I still wrestle from time to time but nothing serious. Recently me and my mum were cleaning out the loft and we stumbled across a box with all of these drawings and letters from my childhood
I saw a stack of letters all addressed to a certain Santa Clause. My brother letters where there too.
I opened the last one he wrote, I started reading it and it said, "Santa I don't want anything for Christmas this year or any other, but will you please give my little brother tickets for Wrestlemania, he loves all that stuff and I want him to be happy and get his dream."
Tears ran down my cheeks and I remembered just how special my brother was.
This year I got two tickets to the grandest stage of them all Wrestlemania 25, and surprise surprise I even convinced my mum to come with me.
So this is my road to Wrestlmania...