Also Ran !

It all started with a move to arrest the arrival of a paunch. Seemingly seamless. But pronounced. The seams of the trousers were bursting. Obviously all the sweets and fries had to show up someplace !!

High calorie food stuck to all parts of the body. Like a Fixed Deposit that was left to grow. The paunch was packing quite a punch ! Then one day, a friend suggested that he was 'running' the marathon. Running ? There was enough to being an 'also ran' in life!

Ten minutes on the treadmill was about what the feet could ever manage. Huffing, panting and almost sure that the 11 th minute would cause instant death ! This was June '09. An internal war broke out. Resplendent slumber waging a relentless war on physical activity.

'Running ? For gods sake, get real ! And four days a week'. Was a constant conversation in the mind. But when the favorite trouser didn't fit, the missus had her hands on the hip and gave a look. A look that was a curious mix of pity, joy and sarcasm!

The next day, I signed up for running. This was August '09. The schedule was given. 'Mondays. Wednesdays. Fridays. Sundays. Reporting time : 5.45 AM' ! The eyes popped. The ears didnt quite register. 'Reporting at 5.45 ?' That meant getting off the bed by 4.30 AM !

With a trepidation reminiscent of my maths exam, i prepared to howl in protest. The only words that escaped the lips however sounded different. 'Sundays too?' So it all began. Running.

But the mind was clear : I wasn't going to go anywhere close to the marathon. I was just going to run. Run the paunch down. That was that. But the group i was training with had other ideas. Of course, my coaches kept it to themselves.

August '09 : A couple of kilometers that the feet covered burnt a hole in the wallet buying pain reliver sprays and left the bedroom smelling of Bengay ! Perpetually. Gasping for breath was now not restricted to seeing stupidity at work. Parts of the body loudly announced their existence with stinging pain and stagnant aches. Knees. Muscles. Joints. Bones. All.

September was better. The pain was around. Less pronounced on the body. More on the mind. I wonder if it would be any different with you..when somebody a good 20 years older zips past and completes the distance in half the time !

And we ran on the roads. We trained in Aarey. Dotted with thick greenery. Rustic smell of cow dung and grass punctuating the morning air and of course, awesome sunrises more than aptly compensated for the mosquitoes that were perhaps next only to the Scud missiles of Saddam Hussein !

We trained in Bandra on the road besides the Arabian sea (and Shah Rukh Khans home. Just in case the Arabian Sea was an unknown entity). Sundays meant driving to marine drive to run those distances. ( I promised the missus that i will not write about the lump of breakfast that followed. So)

October was even better. November fled by. Suddenly, It was early December. I was running 20 odd KMs. Slow. Steady. Huffing and puffing. But running. 'Perhaps i can run the marathon' became a refrain. As with most human minds, the monkey on the mind had moved on to the next branch. Finishing was not THE issue. 'In what time', became the big question.

Jan fled. Taking with it all doubt of 'completion' of the race. It was 17th Jan. I was after all running the marathon. The timing chip was tied to the shoe. The bib was pinned to the t-shirt. Off i ran the Mumbai half-Marathon ! 2 hours 14 minutes was on the watch display as i finished.

There were hordes of men, women and children cheering us on. Faces that i dont know. Voices that i hadn't heard before. But words and gestures that i just cant forget. 'Go Mumbai Go' they screamed !

The slum dwellers who held out oranges. The sophisticated types who had household help offer biscuits, juices, water. The men and women who stood by clapping. I wonder what gets them to do these.

Oh yes. Our blogger bunch cheered on too. With cheers, wishes, presence, prayers and offer for payasam ! The one gent who traveled from Pune to click a snap and cheer on. The others that set a mail thread that went like a river in flow ! What a swell bunch of people inherit this earth ! How blessed am i to know and connect up with them all ! So much for an 'also ran' !

Phew. I am done. With this race. But two things remain. Which must get mentioned.

a. I am looking for one man with a blue T-shirt which had 'are you tough enough' written on his back. I will never forget this man. For at the 4th Kilometer he overtook me, looked into my eys and shouted 'Dont GIVE UP' 'Dont Give up'.

With bewilderment plastered on my face, i waved him on. 'Give up?!!?' Whoever talked about giving up ? I had just started running. So, if you know that man, or you are that man...well, i need to talk to you.

b. The paunch...you know... well...the paunch also ran ! The cause for all of this running, is by and large ( actually by and LARGE) at large ! Theres been no impact at all ! The missus thinks running 42 kilometers will perhaps wear it down.

Ofcourse, like all times, i differ.

Also Ran !

Nat Geo

Silvaasa. A three hour drive takes me here. This is a resort they call. The night we arrive in is too dark for any kind of soaking up of the place. Except perhaps of the night air. Other thoughts keep me occupied. For i am here on work.

We stay in a 'resort'. 'on the banks of the Daman Ganga river', it was announced with pride. When the first rays of the sun sneaked past the cloud and the December darkness, the river showed up too.

Actually, a huge river bed shows up. The river itself is a trickle of a mix. Of water, chemical, detergent. Largely stagnant. Flowing in parts. Thats a subject for a different post though.

A few meters from the river is this huge banyan tree. This is what it says.



Eye squinting wonder pops in the mind. For this tree must have been witness to life before the Portugese came here. Of portugese rule. Of British rule. Of Indian rule. There is wonder at the depth of the history that India holds. Every other sundry rock and seems to have along history beneath it !

Coming back to this tree, perhaps in its tall structure and broad all encompassing expanse lie stories of valour and passion. Of kindness and joy. Of meditation and activity.

How must it have been a 200 odd years ago ?

The river would have been flowing in full speed. Taking with it dead leaves and dried wood, perhaps ! The birds would have been chirping. There would have been no need for the bridge across the river.

No vehicles. No building. No resort. Perhaps some monkeys. Some snakes. But then..No TV. No multiplex. No cinema. No Facebook. No EMIs. No newspapers. No traffic jams. No border crossing. No strategy meets. No publicists.

Sitting under the banyan tree and watching the river and the world go perhaps was a National Geographic special of that age !!

'Sage', they say. Hmm. 'Knowledge worthy of Gods'...Hmm !

Nat Geo

Pushing it !

"Try the pineapple juice". We have been advised. Many times over, by well intentioned friends. Mustafa seems waiting for us today. A juice vendor on a side street at the heart of Mumbai , he indeed is proving to be quite an attraction ! And so is his offering. Almost as proof, a crowd gathers.

That he does something to his offering is evident. Tossing up the oranges before they go into the juicer. Pouring milk from the packet. Actually squeezing it from about three feet away, straight into the mixer. Seriously. No typos there. From three feet away !

Customers ask for more. We wonder if the lip smacking taste comes from the the showmanship of the man or the freshness of the fruit ! Perhaps its just his talent in weaving it all together.

At other times, there isnt space for wondering, for we are busy taking gluttonous gulps as the juice disappears from our glasses with the suddenness of a power shutdown ! Its obvious that there are regulars. And if the local gossip is to be believed, there are a steady stream of 'office types' girls who gather to see his 3 ft milk show !!

Lets leave the showmanship and the taste to the others for now. Focus on item NO: 3 on his menu !


For all his showmanship, there seems to be a philosopher lurking in him. For sure, he didn't put this up to get a blooper spotting blogger excited. This goes beyond. Think about this.

What has the man done ? 'Pineapple' has been spelt 'Painapple' ! Sure. You are saying 'this could be a spell error'. Sure.

"But doesn't 'Pine' lead to 'Pain' !", i spout, licking the remnants of juice from the corners of the lips. Spouting the grand 'pine-pain philosophy' to the missus.

What follows is stare. With an intensity that only seems to grow. Like a cyclone warning flag going up in slow motion ! A cyclone of the highest intensity. A stare that seems to mean ' one more word and anything about this on the blog....and you have had it'

'In the new year', i had promised, that i will 'push'! That statement had the missus letting go a half smile. So here i am. Pushing my luck !!

But this 'Pine' leading to 'Pain' bit...makes sense, no ? Watsay ?

Pushing it !

01.01.10

A new year arrives. Brand new. When the sun comes out of the night, he brings with him a new morning. And a new year too. 'Its time to change', the morning seems to scream. Change. If not anything else, the calendar and the notepad needs to change.

Taking care to write '2010' when habituated practice auto veers toward '2009' every time the date has got to be written ! Wishing you oodles of health, happiness, healing, fulfilment and great joy ! A wish that's soaked with emotion and dipped in sincerity.

Perhaps devoid of the pomp and show of a five star party, but howling with hope to preserve the promise of a better present ! A 365 day present that offers itself for use.

Every single day ! May we choose to use this present well. May we find meaning with grace. Perhaps some grace with love. Maybe love with gratitude. And gratitude with fulfillment. Lets throw in all our best intentions and make a bonfire of warmth that will lead us to action.

May there be balance, in all that we do.

May we LIVE. In 2010. Soaking each second and relishing every moment. May we see beauty in life and living, in Earth and in sky. In all colour and splendour. And by the way..., may we learn to have a good laugh at ourselves. Missing that could well mean the biggest joke of the year !

Happy New Year !

01.01.10