The distance between his waiting car and the door was barely a few feet, but stern admonitions to his wrestling friends simply did not work. They were determined to tell their hero exactly how proud he had made them. Eventually, he was carried to his car on a mass of hazardously shifting shoulders — his face betraying more trepidation than in his final repechage round in Beijing.

India’s Olympic heroes returned last night to crazy scenes at the Indira Gandhi International Airport late on Monday night and even the security personnel present — it’s unlikely being a fan was part of their job description — were just as swept away by the grand scale of celebrations as Vijender and Sushil themselves.

Normally a place of high-risk security measures with no place even for a hair out of place, Monday night saw the airport disappear under a swarm of drumbeats and bunches of dancing children. The cops themselves could be seen eagerly asking camera-toting mediamen for the finer details of these medal-winners’ feats, even as the latter struggled to arrange their equipment at precariously positioned vantage points. The endless stream of relatives, friends, and those simply wanting to bask in the glory of India’s new-found Olympic success had its starting point a few miles before the ceremonial lounge — a Haryana dairy van plastered with posters proclaiming the greatness of Vijender and Sushil; energy-enthused groups of friends who looked as though they would gladly have walked from Bhiwani or Baaprola to be part of the reception party; and a predictable posse of ministers in their VIP vehicles, enthusiastic enough to interrupt a good night’s sleep to be at the airport.

Sushil’s akhada and Vijender’s Bhiwani Boxing Club had ample representation, but amid these tall, hulking specimens, there were a few who were blinded by the enormity of it all. Kamla Kumari, the mother of the formerly unknown Sushil Kumar, took a few minutes to get used to those pushing microphones into her face. “There are so many people here, it feels very nice to know they’re here for my son. I told him to win a medal. Next Olympics, it will be a gold,” she said, offering a shy smile before the next group of cameras demanded her attention.

The parents of Akhil Kumar, who went down in the bantamweight (54kg) category, sat quietly on a bench right next to the airport exit. Their son was just a door away, but they couldn’t meet him right away. “I just spoke to him on the phone, they aren’t letting him come out because there are so many people. But we are very proud of him. I spoke to him after his quarter-final bout. It happens, I told him. He tried hard,” said Shiv Bhagwan, Akhil’s father.

And it was clear enough that the gathered mass treated the medal-winners and the almost-theres as one, for the bronze duo’s exits didn’t result in a mass exodus. Boxers Akhil, Jitender and Dinesh could be identified just by the different clusters that surrounded each of them, people unwilling to let go without relaying a few personal messages. The chaos only increased with each passing step, but unlike their usual struggles, this path was at least paved with good intentions.