The Greeters

You see them the moment you step into the foyer, seated behind their desk “, in the lobby. They greet you with a smile and “good morning sahab, kaise ho ap?”

You see them huddled under the shade of an umbrella or the archway of the gate, at once greeting you with a smile and a good morning, as you flash your I-card to them. In way reminding you that you need to smile too.

The moment you enter your office premises, after you have swiped in, you find them seated behind their desk, behind an absurd white box from which you have pick out a ball (a random checking thing). They mostly will greet you with a smile and make small talk with you, for a short while.

At the mall, after they have scanned you, they have checked you, they will always greet you with according to the time of day.

How many of us have returned their smile, or even returned their greeting. We are so caught up in our lives, in our mobile that we ignore, we forget, to notice these little gestures, let alone responding to them. At time we feel it even below ourselves to reciprocate to these gestures. You may even argue that they are just doing their duty, they are just doing what they have been trained to do, cause the next thing they would be doing is checking your I-card, bag and you. But then it doesn’t take much to appreciate the effort even if it is out of a sense of duty.

These little gestures remind us to smile, no matter how tough life maybe, cause smiling may not take troubles away but it will sure going to make the burden lighter. Greeting morning, noon, evening or night, is a wish of the greeter to the greeted. So no matter how the day may be or has been, they are always wishing you the best.

So the next time they smile and greet you, greet them back, or the least you can do is smile back at them. Who knows this greeting, this smile, would be the thing you needed to remind yourself that you are alive and blessed, and you wish others well.

The Dancing Queen

She was small and mousy, bespectacled little lady. There wasn’t anything striking about her to make you want to give her a second glance, to remember her. In fact her looks were quite ordinary making her easily very forgettable, just another face in the crowd. But she didn’t mind being that way, being lost in the crowd. cause she had a secret and she hoped to keep it that way.

Come Friday night, when the lights are low and everyone were looking for a place to go, she metamorphosed into a striking beauty, someone polar opposite from the way the world perceived her daily. She danced, she jived, having the time of her life. The dance floor was hers for the taking. She owned it, she ruled it. She was the queen of the dance floor, the queen of the night, the dancing queen.

Wherever she went eyes followed her, she was centre of every attention. Men wanted her, to dance with, spend the night with, all clamouring for, hoping for a little romance but given only half a chance. Women wanted to be her, wanted her, envious of her. Wherever she went their jealous eyes followed. Little did they know her secret.

But she didn’t mind, cause for those few hours she was the Cinderella of the dance floor, dancing and jiving, having the time of her life. She didn’t mind attention though she didn’t care for it. She just went on dancing the night away.

But come Monday she was back to her mousy, bespectacled, ordinary ways. She didn’t mind getting back to her ordinary self cause she enjoyed holding on to her secret that was hers to keep and for no one else to know. She knew that come the weekend and once again she would be the belle of the dance floor, the dancing queen.

Reminiscing the Night Away

They sat there on the front porch, by the fire, slowly sipping their whiskey, reminiscing about a starry night just like this, quite a long ago that now it seemed like another lifetime. They were young and brave and full of life and were not prepared to die.

They strummed and hummed to calm themselves down, while they could hear distance sounds of drums. Though they didn’t admitted it then but were not afraid to say it now that the sounds of drums and bugle call almost made them cry. As that night went by, every minute, every hour felt like a day. With every passing moment they could hear the sounds of guns and roar of canon, approaching closer that it made them cry out of fear.

But then something stirred within they. They were so afraid that couldn’t be afraid anymore. They realised why they joined the fight, for liberty, for freedom. There was something in the air that night, the stars shone so bright, as if they shone brightly for them, as they fought valiantly, fought bravely, filling them with a sense that they could not lose, they didn’t have any regrets.

Now they were old and grey and its been many years since they held a rifle in their hand. But they could still hear the beating of the drums, the bugle call, the roaring of the guns and the booming of the canons as they crossed the river grand. They could see the pride in each other’s eye as they fought for freedom of this land. 

And through it all they found each other, a life in each other, a companion in each other, but they still longed for that life that now seemed to have passed them by. They longed for action, for purpose in their mundane lives. If they had to do the same again, they would without any hesitation or fear, they would fight for freedom for the lands.

And as they reminisced about that starry night, so long ago, they fell to sleep on that porch, before that burning fire, but holding each other’s hand.

A run in the park that ain’t a walk in the park

Learning to run may seem quite easy, just like walking in the park, but running in the park ain’t no walk in the park, well unless you do walk in the park, like I did today. The weather in the park can be quite moody, showering with you little drizzles and then vanishing altogether, adding to the humidity. And then you have the slopes and the inclines.

At the start of the race you are all smiles, greeting one another, and hoping, chal atleast ek dang ka picture milna chaiye jismay no t-Rex hands. Around the mid point you have your limbs screaming at you, abhe motay kitna kaam karvayenga tu humse, chal take a deep breath and take in more fresh air. Then at the end you’re limping, you’re crawling, trying to get over that finish lines. You legs are smelling of Violini and have been iced, you try to run but your muscles keep pulling you back, then every ounce of energy left in you pull yourself across that damn line, and even if you have to crawl on all fours you bloody to get over it.

Throughout the race you keep telling yourself to take it easy, taking walk breaks, whose frequency and length seemed to increase. The weather didn’t do you any favour (as if it was going to make it easy for you). You keep cursing with every slope and incline, who plans these routes, who put this incline here, why lord why me... and the list of curses of a weary mind keeps going endless. And when a runner who was quite behind overtake you, you’re tempted to give chase.

They say you should smile all your troubles away. I tried applying that, I am not sure about the success, but I sure did start looking quite freakish, almost like a creepy joker, think Pennywise from It. I was afraid that they would catch me and put me in Arkem. But then you had an awesome set of volunteers who had one time poured cool water down your spine, much to your surprise and delight, and who did an awesome job at it. 

Crossing the finish line (after almost slipping on muck) you begin to analyse your run, especially if you had a run like the one I had, and all I could think of is , abhe sale tu to mota aur budda ho gaya. So now it’s back to the drawing board, but not after preening and posing and screaming and cheering and congratulating.

On a closing note firstly kudos to the BNP Greener Runners for putting together such a well organised and managed event. Thank you all the volunteers and photographers and people who came to cheer. I may be far from my best but I know I can persevere and pull through and today proved just that, I endured through the BNP Endurathon. So now it’s time to drop some weight and train well, but enjoy every run.

City Lights

As he parked his vehicle he glanced at his watch. He was early which meant that he had a couple of minutes to himself before she arrived. He checked himself in the mirror, making some quick adjustments to his hair and bow tie and his messages. 

A few minutes later, right on the dot, he saw her get off the cab. The sight of her took his breath away. She was a beauty to behold. However, he felt that that gown did no justice to her beauty, but simplicity was her style which carried with elan, with confidence, even though she never thought of herself that way. He was amazed by how beautiful she could be while keeping it all simple. She had never ceased to amaze him. 

She smiled at him as she noticed his car, making his heart skip a beat, well a couple of beats. She got into the car and settled in the seat next to him. She leaned forward and pecked him on his cheek, whispering in ears “How do I look?” He looked at her and smiled and just whispered back these few words, as if he didn’t want anyone but her to hear them. “My darling you look wonderful tonight.”

As they drove he couldn’t help but wonder how did he get so lucky? How could someone so beautiful (though she never acknowledged it) fall in love with him? They were as similar as chalk and cheese. He was the popular jock when he first met her. She was studious kind, fiercely independent, intelligent, radiating strength and confidence. They were polar opposite of each other, but in their differences they were whole, they completed each other. It was their differences which held them together rather than tearing them apart.

Although the party was his, she was the centre of everyone’s attention, as she floated across the room, greeting his friends and acquaintances. Wherever she went heads turned and eyes followed and egos burned. He became the envy of every man in the room. She wasn’t his arm candy and he wouldn’t treat her like one. She was his equal. Although parties weren’t really her thing, she was totally at ease. She didn’t have to put on any sort of act. He felt privileged to have her by his side.

That night, after they left the party, they decided to take a walk instead of heading directly for his car. They came to bench from you could see the entire city. The lights of the city shown like diamonds in the dark of night, mirroring the stars in the inky blue night sky. This was their place, a bench where they spent many evenings and mornings, admiring the sight in front of them, many sunsets and sunrises, sometimes not even uttering a single word, just enjoying each other’s company, each other’s presence, taking in the world in front of them, the city lights.

As they sat on the bench he felt something inside him stirred, nudging him to come to a realisation that it was time. She was the one for him, the one he wanted to spend the rest of his life with. He wouldn’t want to lay claim to her, he never thought of her that way. He knew she belonged to him as much as he belonged to her. But she was fiercely independent and he wouldn’t have her any other way. It was now or never.

As he turned to her, she whispered “How was I tonight?” He knew she was teasing him as she always did when she wanted to playful get in the first word, trying to confuse him with what he wanted to say. He smiled and said, “My darling you were wonderful tonight.” Then taking her hand in his, looking into her eyes, he said, “Will you be mine?” 

He didn’t have to say anything else, he knew that she understood what it meant, she knew him quite well. He didn’t have to make any grand gestures or use any eloquent words. He knew she wouldn’t want that. Those simple words was all she needed. 

She looked at him and smiled, and with that he got his answer. She didn’t have to say anything. The look in her eyes, her smile was her answer.Still holding her hand he took out a box that he had with him for a while now, waiting for the right time, and this moment was it. He took out the ring and gently slipped it on her finger. She pulled him towards her and kissed him with all the love she felt for him, all the love she had in her. Sitting on that bench they took a leap forward, pledging their love to each other. They continued to kiss on the bench with the city in the background and the city lights, star lights, glistening brightly in celebration of their union.

Running etiquette for dummies (literally)

Now that summer’s heat has given way to monsoon’s rain and humidity, a new racing season is upon us, like it was never really gone. So every weekend you have some race or another and with it you have runners, elite, amateur and hobby runners, training diligently to get better, to get their bodies in shape, for their next big race.

With every race, with every training, comes some basic running etiquette which should be imbibed in a Runners psyche. It cannot be taught, these are basic human decency (which sadly loads of runners lack) that needs to be followed.

When running on the road always run in the opposite direction of traffic (if your training) and if your racing follow directions, but always keep to your left. Stop hogging the road like you own it (which I am sure you don’t) or it has been hired out just for your (which I am sure it hasn’t). Stop blocking runners coming from the opposite direction, give way, especially if all you’re doing is walking and gossiping (if you want to gossip find another place). It’s rude to occupy the road and not give way. If you choose to walk, keep to your left. If you want to walk in a group see to it you give way when you see a running approaching either from the front or back. 

Do not litter. You don’t want to garbage lying around. If you take a bottle of water from the volunteer and need to dispose it, hold on to it till your find a dustbin or hand it over to the volunteer at the next water station, don’t throw it to the side. Water from the bottle spills on the road make it a road a slipping hazard, not to forget that the bottles themselves are hazardous and could cause accidents. The same goes for your gel sachets and sponges.

As a runner do not waste water. Yes you need to hydrate well but if you are going to take a bottle and take just a few sips before disposing the bottle then that’s quite sacrilegious. Preferably hold on to the bottle till you finished all the water, better still, carry your own bottle and refill it at the water stations. At the same time you do not refuse water to a runner. Water is a basic source of hydration to a runner, so whether they are running with you or not, refusing water shows a basic lack of humanness.

Taking selfies in the middle of the race or road should be avoided. I know you want to capture this moment and experience , but can you do it at the end, or take at the side of the road? Moreover there are photographers (even for training runs) who capture your moments of the race.

Always remember to thank the volunteers, whether they have been hired for the job, or they have signed up for it. They stand for long hours at the water station to support you, so show them some gratitude, show them some love (if I can borrow this line from Sam). They are not your servants so don’t treat them like one. Don’t expect them to pick up after you.

We are mostly hobby runners, amateur runners, not racing elites, not all podium finishers. We need to cheer as much as we need cheering. Every runners could do with a small thumbs, with a smile, with a little acknowledgement. Who knows it will help you in return. So put that inflated ego aside and just go with the flow and enjoy every race and cheer all you who could do with a little cheering.

So there you have it, a few running etiquette my sleepy head could think of, and which I hope you do follow. If you do feel like you could add to it go ahead and be my guest. Let’s make running a decent and human sport, giving it and the runners the respect that they deserve.

The Great Ageing Debate

What is age but a number, is something that we keep telling ourselves when we want to blunt the effect that ageing has on us. The first sign of wrinkles sends us in doldrums, leading to tensions, leading to further wrinkles. The first greys sends us running for that scissors, that pincher, anything that can get that grey out of sight. Then comes the anti-wrinkle creams, hair colours, visits to the parlours for hair colouring, visit to the doctors to get rid of them, and if all doesn’t work, then Botox. 

We want to be forever young, always searching for the secret of eternal youth. And if we were to find it, we wouldn’t just have a sip, we would be gulping it down, so much that we would be in danger of returning to infancy. We are so obsessed with youth that we don’t want to let go of it. We hold on to it as tight as possible, trying to grasp at it when it begins to slip through our fingers, doing all we can to hold on it. Each birthday is welcomed with a dread as if each new year will take us closer to the grave (which in fact it does). Age appropriate greeting is always greeted with earth shattering rage, as if the addresser has committed a grievous crime, a mortal sin, against us. How dare they call us uncle or auntie, do we look one (answer of which is most likely going to be YES... but we don’t want to accept it).

For all our fears and concerns, growing old has its advantage. For starters people will actually give you some sort of respect. You finally can occupy that jaisht nagrik seat that you always are forced to give up when a jaisht actually appears. People aapka umar kay lihaj rakh kay will underestimate you, will let you off the hook, giving you the opportunity to spring a surprise. You get a valid excuse for, forgetting, blame it on those weakening grey cells, for slowing down, after all our joint are no longer lubricant as they used to be. You get bumped up your race category furthering your chances of making it to the podium. You get offered seat and allowed to move to the head of the line. 

So live befeekar, live bindaas. Embrace all your wrinkles and greys, like George Clooney has. And although you may be no Clooney, whose stopping you from adopting his school of thought. So age with grace, even if it means slowing down a bit of pace. Fikaar not and just live and love life a lot.

Mumma’s First

It’s not like she didn’t go anywhere. Mumma did go out but it was always a family affair going with tour packages (that were found in the The Examiner), which meant staying at lodges and guest houses and traveling by trains and buses. Financial constraints, taking care of a sick family members had tied her down. Dadda never was able to take her or any of us abroad with him, like others who worked in the Gulf. Maybe it was the nature of his work, where he was never on land for too long, or maybe it was that he didn’t have a place of his own.

All this changed in the past year. With the passing of my aunt there was no one to care for, leaving her relatively free. Got her passport done knowing she could travel abroad to be with her daughters and visit family abroad. But before that she had her first plane ride, albeit in not too happy situation. Nonetheless she traveled abroad not once but twice with each stay better than the last one. 

Last weekend she took a trip to a place where she hadn’t been in over two decades. The last time she was here  Baba auntie, papa, Gerty nana, Tatu and dada were alive, we were not out of school and cheryl had just celebrated her 21st birthday. The last time she had been here she took an overnight train journey, with the family, and stayed at uncle Kenny’s place. This time she flew down, a journey that took just over an hour, and stayed at hotel, which she would consider as a great luxury. 

Whether she was eating a buffet meal, or relaxing in her bed, she took in all the luxuries. There was a joyous light that shown on her face as we drove from Hyderabad to Secunderabad to Sainikpuri, all the way to Kenny Uncle’s place. She took in the sights, she took in the experience, as Yash and Vipin drove her across town. She savoured the food that was prepared for us and that Yash and his sous chef Vipin prepared for her. And when I asked her how she was doing she just smiled and beamed and gave a sweet head nod.

She took in all the experiences and treasured every little moment in her heart. Somewhere I can hear my aunty’s voice telling her, in her slightly nagging tone “See what your husband couldn’t give you see my children are doing that for you” (as you see, she always considered us as her own children as she was a spinster). No matter what she would have said mumma took in every moment, her first of many first, making us proud to be enablers of this experience, this happiness.

The Semicolon

What is a semicolon but a brief pause

Before you continue with your sentence 

Unlike a period It doesn’t end it

But there’s something more to come

Or like a comma grouping words

But separating each of them

Just like the semicolon,

 It doesn’t mean the end

When things don’t seem to go your way

When your outlook turns dark and gloomy

Just take a brief pause, a deep breath

Continue living your life

Life may not stop for you

The world doesn’t stop

When you feel your life has come to a stop

Just pause, collect your bearing

And continue living your life

Cause the world will move ahead

And you may find yourself

Left behind, alone by yourself

After night comes day

There can’t always be darkness

There will surely be light

That breaks, that burst

Through the darkness

Lighting up everything that it falls up on

There can’t be darkness forever

Just give the light of hope a fighting chance

To break the hold that darkness has on you

After the darkness of night

Comes the light of day

What falls down

Will always bounce back and higher

Don’t loose hope

When thing don’t go your way

Don’t give up on life

Just keep the faith

And have a little patience 

Cause things will get better

You can make it better

There’s so much to live for

There’s so much that you can give

You just need know where to look

You just need to know what to do

For that you need take pause

Take a deep deep breath and carry on

Not all hope is lost

Cause what was lost can be found

Just look in the right direction

And you will find your way home

Though you may have

A million reasons to loose hope

All you need is just one reason to live 

That’s all it takes to find hope

So be a semicolon and continue to live after a pause

Cause there’s so much to live for 

Just don’t through it all away

Just take a brief pause 

Continue living the way you meant to be

A Bike ride through Aarey

What happens when your daily social responsibilities get you running late for office (no, no, not the NGO kind but the daily post on social media), you take your bike, I mean Activa, and go to office. 

If you’re a Mumbaikar then you are well aware that getting into a local at peak hours is a next to impossible task unless your are up for the challenge. So not wanting to be crushed in a crowded local, and having no better option, the only thing to do was to ride all the way office, and cutting through Aarey would be an ideal way to save time.

Once again, as Mumbaikars are well aware of, the temperature in BNP, or Borivali National Park, and Aarey is always a few degrees lower than that of the areas that surround it. So as soon as you enter Aarey, you are embraced by this coolness that relaxes you and refreshes the senses. The lushness of the foliage, just after the rains, is soothing balm to the weary eyes. Everywhere that the eyes see you notice small riverlets and streamlets flowing, running, gushing.

The air has this crispness, this freshness, fresher than any place in Mumbai, save BNP. You feel a cool gentle breeze against your skin, as you make your way riding the slopes, the ups and downs, the twist and turns of the road. Or as we runners would call it, a rolling terrain, or is it rolling hills.

The trees on either side of the road seem to be reaching out to each other, meeting over the road,  touching each other so as to create a canopy shielding the road below from the elements of nature. Creating a sort of tunnel like the ones created during the bridal march at weddings.

Sadly these little joys of having a green patch within the city won’t be there for too long as the greed of man and their scrupulous nature wouldn’t have it that way. With the eye on prime property, under the pretext of progress, Aarey is being poached on little by little.

Sadly the generations to come would never know Aarey, would never know that there used to be a green patch within the bustling city. The only way they would know Aarey would be through a footnote in some book or through some newspaper or magazine documenting Aarey’s struggle for survival. 

Till then lets make the most of the beauty that we have been blessed with, to do our best to conserve, protect, fight for it, save it, for a better, greener and cleaner future for the generations to come.