An unknown athlete

Far from the spotlight and national anthems, it is nevertheless thanks to him that one of the boldest chapters in the history of skiing is being written in Vargèse, a small fictional resort in the Haute-Savoie region.

Let’s be clear: in Vargèse, the Maharajah does not ski: he invents!

While today's champions aim for the perfect line, controlled speed, and optimal trajectory, the Indian prince only has one goal: to reinvent the sport by breaking the rules that had been set until then. In fact, it makes sense, his practice is far from being academic…

The first major hallmark of his style was his chaotic skiing, which some purists mistakenly describe as ‘improvised’, but which in reality stems from a keen sense of balance... in imbalance. Sometimes head first, the Maharajah launches himself into a dizzying dive, his body stretched out like an arrow to cut through the snow and become at one with it. Sometimes with his back arched backwards—in an improbable pose that could rightly be called a 'reverse cobra'—he launches into a slide where the skilled skier seems to defy all the laws of gravity. His gaze is turned towards the sky while his skis carve their own path, drawing an almost perpendicular angle to the slope, as if rejecting any notion of a conventional descent..

Another discipline of which he is the sole representative: obstacle skiing, whose principle seems to be freely inspired by equestrian jumping. But beware, here there is no aerial bypass or avoidance. Where the rider clears the hurdle acrobatically, the Maharajah goes right through the obstacle. Doors, furniture, crockery: nothing stops him. The obstacle is no longer a constraint, but a substance to be pierced. A radical philosophy that leaves ski instructors speechless… and insurers sweating!

And finally, let's mention what is undoubtedly his most baffling creation: hole skiing. The absolute antithesis of the famous mogul skiing, this original practice consists not of following the contours of the terrain, but of disappearing into its gaps. It is an extremely physical and technical discipline, as it requires an instinctive reading of the terrain, millimetre precision in landing, and above all, a tremendous effort to pull oneself out of the hollow – after first touching the bottom, of course.

At a time when the Olympic Games celebrate standardised performance and the repetition of perfect movements, the Maharajah of Gopal reminds us that sport can also be a place for free expression and experimentation.

Little known, certainly. Unclassifiable, undoubtedly. But on the slopes of Vargèse, one thing is certain: skiing has found its rebel prince.