We may be ordinary… but we inspire!!!

I am nothing special 

In fact I am a bit a bore

I am nothing special 

Just another ordinary bloke

But in my ordinariness 

I find a way to inspire others

I don’t have to do anything special 

I haven’t to do anything grand

I don’t have to make a great deal of it

I have to just be me

The simple, ordinary me

Just go about doing the things I do

Do things I would normally do 

The way I would normally do it 

Nothing out of the ordinary 

Nothing extraordinary 

Never intentionally doing anything 

But still in all the simplicity 

All the ordinariness of my action

I’ll never know who I might inspire

Who I might motivate

Who you want I might save 

I don’t need to do anything

I don’t have to be anyone else

I just need to be me

Who I am meant to be

And you never who I might save

You don’t need to do anything extraordinary 

I just need to be myself

Let my simplicity shine through

And there’s no telling

Who may need this light

To find their way 

When they find themselves lost 

In the labyrinths of life

Stumbling in the darkness

Searching for a  spark to light up their way

And they may find that light in you

And you don’t have to anything extraordinary 

You don’t have to do anything out of the ordinary 

You don’t have to make an attempt

To influence others

You just have to be you 

And let the light within you shine through 

Lighting up the way for those who are lost

Lighting up the way for those who need it

So you may think you’re nothing special 

You may think you’re a bore 

Just an ordinary bloke

But you never know might inspire!!!

The Object of Inspiration.... Paying it Forward

As I stood there cheering them, I knew I was part of something momentous, something so bigger than me but yet so humbling. I beamed proudly as the HoD handed them a certificate and a memento to mark the  occasion. I stood there proudly beaming, trying to capture the moment in a photograph, as my friends Maya and Chaitanya Basrur completed their hundred platelets donation as a couple at the Tata Memorial Hospital. It was such a beautiful coincidence that we all got the same slot for the donation, letting me be part of such a momentous occasion.

We all had our own reasons why we started donating platelets. I remember Maya and I discussing this while we ran from Mira Road to Gorai Beach. We had different reasons but a singular objective, that is to do our bit, and in our own small way make a difference to society, in our own way, save a life. It wasn’t like we had inspired each other. Maya and Chaitanya had long since been donating before I started. I started donating platelets in memory of my Godmother, my Tatu, who had passed away because of Lung Cancer.

I admit that I felt a pang of jealousy when I saw  them donating all through lockdown and I wasn’t being called. Unke platelets main kya hain jo mere platelets main nahin hain? Just kidding! But yes we were driven by the need to do some good. Through our posts we tried to shine a light on platelets donation and try to encourage others to become donors too.

In the running community you find people who love to be recognised, who love to have their moment in the sun. They want to be ambassadors and influencers. One day you find them with one brand, the next you find them with another brand. One day with one group the next day with another group. They may be deserving, or they may be not, it’s not for me to say, not for me to judge. It could be they were using the brand as a mean to gain popularity, or the brands and races using their followers as way to push their races, their products. All through this you keep wondering what difference were they making to the running community? How were they helping the community as a whole besides pushing theirs and the brand’s popularity, as done when you see every Tom, Dick and Harry named as influencers for a brand. Or a famous personality fronting a group when you know exactly what’s going on behind it all.

But one thing I’ve realised, majority of the people, runners or not, and even running groups, brands and races, look at what’s in it for them. Very rarely you find people who are selfless, or organisers and brands who put the safety of the runner in the forefront, or work towards making a difference by supporting those in need. And trust me you had a lot of scope to do so as there were so many runners who needed support.

My friends Maya and Chaitanya fall in the rare category of humans who do things selflessly, who gave without thinking what would they get in return. Making a difference and saving a life was a reward in itself. And if they could be the object of inspiration for anyone to become a donor, then that’s the cherry on the cake that they shared with many others, a way to pay it forward.

We may have not directly inspired each other, we always have kept each other motivated, whether in words of encouragement, or the best machine to donate on, we have managed keep each other motivated, and in our own way had helped affect a change.

So as I was asked by Maya to be in a picture with her and Chaitanya it made me proud that I could join them and be part of their journey. And though the number of time I’ve donated  platelets would be dwarfed by the number of times they donated, I know that there’s no race between us, but somewhere we have a feeling of gratitude that we can make a difference, be the object that inspires, to pay it forward.

..when Santa ran a Half Marathon... ok 21 k

I have always known him to be a jolly soul, always cheery, a bit loud, ok quite loud. Someone so full of life, someone always ready to support and lend a helping hand to those who need it the most. Someone who will always cheer and motivate you the loudest, as big as his personality. Someone who reminds you (and for that matter, everyone else too) of a holly jolly soul from the North Pole.

As he had been training diligently, it was a natural progression for him wanting to attempt a Half Marathon distance (that’s 21 km, for the uninitiated), and it was good he was attempting this distance on a supported training run which meant there was no timing pressure, running at a comfortable pace. And so we egged him on and cheered him on, the day before, boosting his spirits, trying to keep his josh high, only to add to the pressure of completing it. And in the words of the man himself, it felt like giving a board examination.

So on the day of the run I was quite happy to see him alight the rick, greeting him with the enthusiasm I could muster (after all who wakes at 3 am on a Sunday morning and not run... the answer to that is a crazy Admin). So after getting the warm up done (while you go on a clicking spree) and giving the necessary instructions and clicking the group pic, while trying to balance yourself on a wooden plank like platform, off they went.

After waiting for them to pass by I went to my water station, but not before seeing him pass by. Reaching the water station, I began to work with my fellow volunteers to prepare the hydration before the runners begin to flow. So once the hydration was ready you and your fellow volunteers go about doing what you do best, be buoyed by each other’s enthusiasm and that of the runners who stop by to hydrate, to chat, to click a selfie. You continue to be your cheery self, shouting (if not literally screaming it out) “Water, Fast and Up”, irrespective whether the runner stopped, just acknowledged, or plainly ignored you.

As a large group of runner arrive at your station you get busy serving them water and Fast and Up, preparing Fast and Up, chatting with them, enquiring about their run and the Unpredictable Mumbai weather. You get totally caught with your volunteering responsibilities that you begin to wonder if he passed you by. You ask friends if they have seen him pass by, cause somehow at the back of the mind you have this nagging thought that he would be amongst the last runners to reach the station. But then no one had seen him, and he already passed by the previous water station (which had packed up and headed to the end point), you begin wonder if he decided to give up, after all Mumbai weather can be treacherous, and can never be easy to cover the distance, especially for a first time runner. 

Your fellow volunteers think they saw someone like him pass by, but somehow something nags you that he hasn’t passed by. You reluctantly wrap up your station as the last runner has passed your station. However, you ask your fellow volunteers to wait for you as you get rid of the garbage from your station.

As you search for a dustbin to dispose off your garbage, you see him. He looks tired and weary, a bit hunched, running at a slow pace. But doggedly determined to cover the distance he set out to do. I breathe a sigh of relief, and can’t help but smile and cheer him on loudly. He may have been weary but spirit is high and the josh burning bright. He was still his jovial, cheery, loud self. And yes you couldn’t help but wear a really broad smile. 

You quickly try to find a garbage bin, but then by the time you get back to your station he has already passed and proceeded on his way. You finally wrap up the station, hail a cab, and you head to the end point. On your way you see him go, renewed and refreshed but still determined to finish it. You inform the other water station to be on the look out for him as he would be the last runner to cross, and then they can wrap up the station once he has passed by.

Reaching the end point you’re  greeted by runners who have completed their runs. You go about chatting and socialising and doing what an Admin got to do, avoid posing for pics but always ready to click. So while the cool down stretches are being done you go click happy, but not before you get your face smeared with blue colour. By that time the volunteers from the last water station arrive at the end point, which meant that he has successfully crossed the last water station. When you enquire about the same with the volunteers, they confirm that he indeed had passed the last water station. So you know that by hook or crook he’s going to complete his first 21k.

You get busy making announcements and trying to get the runners to assemble, talk over their chatter and fit them in a single frame (which trust me, is not quite an easy task, unless you are willing to fall off into the Arabian Sea)! But then he’s no where in sight and it has been a while since the last water station team has returned to the finish point, making him miss a majority of the post race shenanigans. So you begin to worry again, if he would make it. But the low and behold you see him in the distance. You can’t help yourself but let out a loud cheer, encourage him, and then when he finishes you beam proudly as he  raises his hand in jubilation, a victory of mind of over body, of dogged determination, a victory for himself.

If I could tear up I would, and I fight that feeling. Making me wonder if you ever got that emotional on seeing someone complete a run! But then you know you did that day, when Santa decided and completed a Half Marathon!

Sunday with the RuNCouragers!!!

After Saturday’s long run cum hill training (i.e. killing yourself at BNP at the hands of Dylooo and Pankti... on the plus side... the weather was good for a change), some baking adventures (or misadventures, as the cookie taste, but then that’s fodder for a different write up), and very little time to rest and recover (to add to it, 3 hours of ballroom), didn’t quite think I had it in me, or in my system to squeeze any more mileage for the day!

But then there were some special reasons to go. Firstly, it’s been a while since I have run in Thane (I think pacing Neha Gharat for the Thane Pinkathon was the last). Then RuNCouragers ne hume bhuliya main chala aya (dang I am getting good with Hindi, or am I). Lastly Admin hain to jana padenga (vow I am on fire, or what?)

So here was I, waking up at the usual ungodly hours on a weekend, when the rest of the world is fast to sleep (unless they are runners, then they would be wide awake to catch their weekend long runs), meeting up with my fellow admins and heading to Thane, to the start point, to meet a very cheery and enthusiastic and noble bunch of runners that form the RuNCouragers, who had meticulously planned the run and had everything put in place.

So after greeting and meeting many runners (some of whom I hadn’t seen in ages, some who I was meeting for the first time) and a quick warm up and briefing, not to forget the singing of the National Anthem, off we went. Though I had initially planned to take it easy (after all the body was still in its recovery mode from the exertions of the previous day... don’t ask me what... I’ve already mentioned it) but then the weather was kind and the route challenging, and when life challenges you rise to the challenge to the best of your ability, rather than cowering in front it. The road beckoned and the volunteers cheered you on enthusiastically. So even though the initial pace was easy, for the first couple of kilometres, thanks to a chit chat running with Prabhu, the legs did what the legs wanted to do, so finally upped the pace.

So with a gentle breeze on my face off I went. There were volunteers at every turn, supporting you, guiding you, cheering on, especially my buddy Shilpa Rao who kept cheering even while she drove from one water point to another. So I ran up gentle slopes, for once not cursing them but glad they were there, cause it made the route more dynamic rather than one dimensional, passing fellow runners on their long runs (I assume) and walkers on their morning walks, at the Upvan lake you had some race being conducted, and you passed children who were practising some form of martial art (have very little knowledge in it). Though one wrong turn took me down a different  route, in the end it didn’t matter as I managed to complete the distance.

Reaching the end point it was time to enjoy some much needed post run refreshments of idlis and chutney and chaas, courtesy of our wonderful host. It was then time to do what we runners do best, apart from running, chat, socialise and click pictures and selfies. But not before a leisure walk in the park to cool down, exploring the beauty of the well manicure lawns.

It was then time for the customary group pic; what training run is complete without a group pic? Not before thanking the wonderful RuNCouragers for being such a gracious host, for all the arrangements, the wonderful support and meticulous planning.

In the end it was a Sunday morning well spent, for some important mileage, though on weary feet. Got to meet and be introduced to many noble running souls. So glad I was able to make it and have a wonderful Sunday run.

P.S. Thank you the awesome team of RunCouragers SN sir, Sachin, Murali, Vasu, Neha M, Hansa C, Rupesh P, Amit G, Payal C, Manish, Jatinder and Vaibhav (for capturing some amazing pics), Shilpa, Ved, Santosh M, Hitender, Ajay K, Hrishikesh, Rakesh D, Santosh S, Sunil Talwar, Vilas H, Arvind S and Sandeep P (sincerely apologise if I missed out anyone).

.. Begin Again

She went straight from her father’s house to her husband’s house, never quite knowing the world in between. In him she found a life partner, someone who she would share the rest of her life with.

She was quite the seamstress, a skill which he noticed, which he encouraged, which he nourished. Together they started something small, something their own, a partnership of his business acumen and her sewing skills. Together they made a name for themselves, a partnership, an awesome twosome. 

They had two boys, who became a part of her world, occupying a major part of it. She nurtured her sons into fine young man, guiding them to become gentlemen capable of starting a family of their own. He ably supported her playing the good cop or the bad cop as the role demanded. A role model for their son, very often her knight in shining amour. This was her world, she didn’t know anything beyond this, Shaw didn’t feel the need to know anything beyond it. This was her world and she was content living it, a small world consisting of herself, her sons, her husband and their little business. 

But all this changed with that one single report. It was this report that changed the world as she knew it, bringing it crumbling down. She couldn’t imagine a world without him in it, she had built a world around him, he was her a world. But now there was possibility of him not existing in it. She felt shattered and broken, but she needed to be strong, not just for him, for her sons, but most importantly for herself.

She stood by him throughout the treatment, his pillar of strength. Their sons were her strength. She couldn’t bear to see him in pain, to wither way, but she vowed to be with him through thick and thin, in sickness and health, in good times and bad, all days of their life, and she intended to see this promise through.

When he finally succumbed to his illness, she shattered to a million pieces, all broken and bruised. But she knew she had to pick herself and piece herself together. She had to live not just for their legacy, but most importantly for herself. Their sons were old enough to look after themselves, so she had find a way to live for herself. She was unsure if she would be able to manage without him, but she knew she would learn cause she had a good teacher, she was a good student.

Days passed by and she went on with life, almost settling into a routine she had once known, when her younger son showed her a life that she had missed out on, a life she had all forgotten about, a life she hadn’t lived. People scoffed, and relative spoke behind her back, this wasn’t her age and place, it didn’t suit a person of her age. What would the world say, what would society say? But then her son stood by her.

She realised her life didn’t have to end with his passing. There was a world out there to be discovered, new experience to be had. She had to close one chapter so that she could start a new one, to begin her life all over again, to love every moment she had missed out on. And with help and support of her sons, she was going to find herself she thought she had lost. She loved him, she always had and always will, she took him wherever she would go, in a special place in her heart. But now it was time she lived for herself, to put the past behind her and begin again.

When the lotus bloomed and became a runner

It’s been a while since I’ve tried to get him to join me on a run. We had connected on our mutual need to stay healthy and fit and our love for exercising. I had even helped him pick up running shoes, gave him running tips (though I am no where’s qualified to do so) and even got him to install a running app on his phone. But barring the one time, when I stayed over at his place, we didn’t run together. Not even when we went to Thailand. Though he had promised me to join me for a run, he was always was a sleep when I went out on my run.

So I was pleasantly surprised when he decided to do the 5k at the IDBI Federal Life Insurance Mumbai Half Marathon, was actually quite happy. He even signed up his mum and got a common friend to run the event. He was quite excited to run his first marathon, though had to remind him, and burst his bubble, that 5k ain’t a marathon (cause the distance is a matter of pride for any runner who has done at least one full marathon). But that didn’t dampen his spirit (and that wasn’t even my intention), and he was all excited as the date came closer. 

So come the expo they went very eagerly for their first expo, to collect their first ever bibs, for their first ever race. Even asking me if they should pick up shoes from the expo. And although I couldn’t be there with them, they clicked a selfie with my pic on the ambassadors wall and shared that with me.

On race day they were all ready and rearing to go, even altering their race tees. I missed meeting them at the start or to greet them when they returned back. But the glow I could see on their face, the happiness, was one of the best thing on the hot and humid Sunday. The happiness on completing their first run was evident on their faces that was flushed with glee as they displayed their medals, and clicked pics.

I was so proud of them, but I was even more proud of his mum. They  had recently lost one of their own, my friend lost his father, and auntie her husband, but here stood a lady, who had overcome that grief and was ready to move on, start something new. Her joy radiated and just added to the beautiful soul that she is. The way she posed with her medal, took in the experience and even pampered and took side of her Sonu, all left me in admiration of a strong and beautiful woman, reminding me so of my mum.

Now that he had got the taste of his first race, he’s looking forward to the next one and the beauty of it all is that his mum is looking forward to it. And meanwhile the three of them have been bitten by running bug and are eagerly training for the next one, even roping their friends in turn. So now I can proudly say that I am so proud of my friends and his mother, cause even though they may have done a 5k, no distance will ever be too small. Even a journey of a thousand kilometres starts with one single step. So no distance is ever too insignificant. So here’s to many more races to come, many more runs to come, to the joy that running brings to life.