Different dictionaries use different words to explain the meaning of sports. But their gist remains the same. Sports, by most definitions, involves competition between individuals or teams, a set of rules and physical activity.

Shooting, increasingly India’s sole guarantee against Olympic bankruptcy, meets the first two criteria, not the third. So in the strictest sense of the word, the cynics are right. Shooting is not a sport. Gagan Narang, one of our elite athletes, can afford to be a food-loving panda of a man with a belly that those with strong maternal instincts would like to scratch. The sedentary nature of shooting also makes it possible to have long careers. The oldest Olympian ever, Oscar Swahn, was a shooter. He won his first gold, two in fact, at 60, added another gold four years later and then a silver at age 72.

But if an activity is challenging enough in other respects, if it is a severe test of several human attributes all at once, we should accord it due respect, and not obsess over whether it meets certain definitions. And shooting is indeed an extreme test of concentration, willpower, accuracy and control over every little twitch of our muscles. Some sports are about explosive action, some about absolute stillness. Both are remarkable. The ability to keep body and mind still and find the most minute of targets is as special as the ability to blast off the blocks in a 100 metre race.

Narang’s bronze in the 10m air rifle category was the fruit of 70 high-pressure shots, 60 in the qualification round and 10 in the final. He got 75 seconds for each crack. The centre of the target was 0.5mm. Even ants are bigger, generally starting at about 1.5 mm. All shots were squeezed under the burden of the knowledge that even a little drop in performance could destroy a dream. Nearly all the shots were accurate. His final shot was extraordinary. It had to be spectacular, else a podium finish would have eluded him. He nailed a 10.7.

The British shooter James Huckle, who competed in the 10m air rifle event in London, put it succinctly when he said, “I don’t think anyone watching an elite sport will understand how difficult it is without trying it.” We could argue that Narang could have done better than bronze, but to not consider his discipline worthy of Olympic status would be unfair.

Patient safety is an issue of concern in India. There is an almost total absence of records of cases of negligence and errors. Recognising this, in April this year, Dr Nikhil Datar formed the Patients Safety Alliance (PSA) in collaboration with the World Health Organisation. On 1 July, its first patients empowerment workshop was held in Mumbai. The session prompted a discussion on various aspects of patient safety. The UK’s National Health Service has reported that the risk of a patient dying of a healthcare hazard was more than in an air or nuclear disaster. “Medicines today are potent,” says Dr Datar, a gynaecologist, lawyer and consumer rights activist. “If a cotton wrap cannot do much to control someone’s body temperature, it can also not do much harm. But if you are using a drug capable of curing cancer, a slight overdose can prove fatal.” Vasumathi Sriganesh, CEO, Qmed Knowledge Foundation, which guides doctors and patients alike on reliable resources for research, recommends two websites—Pub Med health and Cochrane. “These sites provide an analysis of the research done over the past few years,” Sriganesh says. The idea behind PSA, Dr Datar says, is this: “Before we are doctors, we are patients, and to empower ourselves is our right as much as our responsibility.”