The Ambassador Quandary

Let’s face it, even though you may not acknowledge it, flat out deny it, but in your hearts of hearts you want it, long for it, pine for it, pray for it, like the desert praying for rains. You want to be known, if not famous, you don’t want to be just another face in the crowd, but definitely not infamous.

So when you are selected to be one of the Ambassador of the IDBI Federal Life Insurance Mumbai Half Marathon, for 2018, (phew that was quite a lot of words to type) you let a big wooohooo, because you have finally made it. But then you ask your self what did you do to deserve this honour (if not accolade... but then for someone like me it amounts to something like it)? This replaces the previously silly niggling question, what do I need to do become an ambassador (come on, I know you too must have thought about this)?

Perplexing and confounding as it sounds (and downright silly) let me try and analyse what could possibly have led to me being selected for this profound honour (ok now I sound like a typical Miss India... but hey let’s go with the flow) not just for my sake but for the sake of every person whose brains are definitely getting fried with this burning question (and for some... why him and not me... Us may kya hain jo muj main nahi (wow I am seriously trying to flex my silly Hindi)). So for these poor lost, perpetual envious souls, let’s analyse. 

Being a runner, the first requirement would be podium finisher. But hey I have yet to get my podium. Still waiting for it, hoping for it, longing for it, praying for it. Maybe I just need to hit the big four oh and then I get to compete with the seniors, people more or less my age, may be then I could stand any chance (come on, I can’t run at the speed of runners  half my age and let’s face it, I am not getting faster with age). The only time I stood on the podium was in school when I ran track and I don’t think anyone knows about it (or do they now).

Another possibility is being an ultra runner. But hey I haven’t run anything beyond 42km and that too I have struggled (still smarting from not completing my 42 at TMM), and I have shied and refrained from all the 12 hour and 24 hours runs. So this is definitely not the reason for my selection.

Another point of contention would be popularity. But hey as compared to my fellow ambassadors I don’t think I am that popular, or so I think (just not trying to be humble). Yep I have seen a spike in the number of friend requests on Facebook and follow request on Instagram but really I don’t think I have a dedicated followers. Heck I have just one follower for my blog. So I am not sure if popularity has anything to do with my selection.

Another reason, which I can think of, is being an inspiration. But then I don’t have no inspirational story to tell. I haven’t had to overcome adversity or had dramatic weight loss. Dang I am still trying to loose weight but it doesn’t want to get lost at all. My life is definitely not what inspirations are made of, in fact it is far from it. But then I do find joy cheering others on and seeing friends finish on the podium.

Shoot it seems like I am running out of reasons to analyse but I am still far from the true reason. It feels like the truth is out there but it is eluding me. Dang I am even begun to be over dramatic about it.

Well two people who can surely throw light on this predicament (hey this is not my predicament). Maybe I can ask Sunil Sir or Sangeeta ma’am (or just ask both of them) on why did they choose me, cause the nation wants to know, ok ok, not the nation just curious people, me included. So till I get their response, I will revel in my newfound popularity, as well as responsibility, while those who envy can eat their heart out.... just kidding.

Alfie: Not your typical love story

I have known Alfie since we were little but the one standing in front of me bore no resemblance to the boy I had once known. Gone was the happy-go-lucky, friendly child and it’s place was a sullen, withdrawn, rebellious youth. There was not a single shred of the boy I had spent my childhood days with, the boy I had spent so much of my growing up with, the boy who I was totally inseparable from. My best friend forever.

They said that his family fell on hard times and they moved to a cheaper, poorer part of town. That was the last I heard from or saw Alfie. Their departure sent the rumour mills in overdrive. There were talks of dishonest dealings, investigations, dealings with the mob that had gone sour, abuse, affairs, bad investments. Rumour seemed to be swirling everywhere. I was too little to even care. What I did care about was about my friend who I missed dearly. The boy who I saw was someone else. Though most of his childhood features were gone there was still something familiar about him. 

From the moment I saw him I knew that he would be preyed upon by the jocks, the snobs, the princesses and the brats, the queen bees and their sidekicks and their minions. He didn’t conform to their standards and refused to bend to their ways. They targeted him with their meanness, their tricks and pranks and spread rumours about not just him but also of his past. For them he was an itch they needed to scratch off. They spread all sorts of rumours speculating on what brought him back to town.

They tried to break him but he refused to be broken. He stood up to them, always ready to take them head on. He challenged them and their position, much to their annoyance as they hated to be challenged. This made them even more mean. Sometimes I wondered what would I have done if I had found myself in his place. I am sure I would have cracked under all that meanness. That made me admire him even more.

But despite of all my admiration I found myself guilty of not standing by my friend. Maybe it was the fact that I was one of them and mixing with him would get me disgraced and disowned. This would not be what I wanted and would not bode well with the family too. 

I stood by, a mute spectator of their meanness, never joining them but at the same time not stopping them. So it may have hurt to see and hear them slandering him and spread false truth but I didn’t do much to stop it, at first. 

But I came to a point where I couldn’t be a mute spectator any longer. Maybe it was the age old friendship kicking in, or the feeling of protectiveness towards someone dear to me, or something that I just couldn’t figure out what. Nonetheless I tried my best to make him understand their ways and then began intervening, where I could, trying my best to ensure that things didn’t get out of hand. Much to the annoyance of all the parties. He warned me that he didn’t need my support, not knowing that he needed it. Sometimes I wondered what would I need to do to thaw this icy exterior to find the friend I once knew underneath it? What did I need to do to make up for all the time we had lost?

At the same time his grades were not too good so I was assigned to tutor him (good for me and bad for him as he was trying to avoid me). Initially he was resistant to this saying that he didn’t need any help but later on grudgingly accepted that he needed it. During this period I felt we did make progress, albeit a slow one, in reconciling. Slowly but steadily I got glimpses of the friend I once knew. His grades did improve and he became a bit more cordial to others and others more accepting towards him, he even made a few friends. But more importantly was that we were getting to spend time with each other and this time was helping us rekindle the bond we once knew. 

Then one evening, while I was returning from my grocery shopping, I heard a ruckus in the parking lot. When I reached the spot from where the noise was coming from, I found him being held back and beaten up by a group of jocks who had had it in from the day he refused to tow the line and back down to them. They were throwing punches at him while a couple of their minions held him back. They mocked him, taunted him. He winced in pain with every blow but still tried to free himself from the hands that held him back. 

I dropped my grocery bag and ran to his side pushing away his attackers, shoving them away. They taunted me too and warned me that there would be dire consequences for my action. For the first time in a long while, I didn’t care what they had to say. I threw in a couple of blows and landed a couple of punches on the intended target. I freed him and together we fought them off. They ran away with their tails between their legs but not before they hurled a few abuses, taunts and curses at me.

This was the first time I had been in a street fight and it felt exhilarating. Could feel the chill and excitement of the fight. I could feel the adrenaline pumping in my vein. In a strange way I felt more alive than I have ever felt before. A glorious sense of victory, even if it was only just a small one.

I turned to see if he shared the same sentiment as I did. I saw him bent over trying to catch his breath. There were a few bruises where they had rained blows on him. There was a cut on his lip that was bleeding. I reached out to him to check and see if he was alright. He pushed my hand and shoved me. “Why did you do that,” he said angrily, “why did you put yourself in harms way, you could have got hurt.” “I don’t mind that, I am not afraid of them or their threats,” I said hottily, “You needed my help and I was there to help you.” 

“I didn’t need your help,” he said angrily, I could sense the anger growing in him and this perplexed me. “I could have easily handled them myself, I didn’t need any help from you. What do you care?” “Well I could see that,” I said with a  growing annoyance that was threatening to boil over, “I could see how well you were handling them. They outnumbered you and you needed my help. Don’t you see that I care for you. You were my best friend and I want that friend of mine back. You need my help and I came to your aid”

“If you cared so much where were you all these years, where were you when I needed my friend the most,” he said finally bringing down the wall that he had built around himself, “when I was used and abused, physically and mentally. When I was in a dark place and needed my friend but I had none,” he said trying desperately to fight back the tears that were welling up in his eyes.

“If I would have only known,” I said trying to find the right words to say but struggling because in a way I was hurting through this revelation. “But I was only a child, what could I do? Who would have believed me?” 

“Bullshit,” he said angrily, “that was the thing that I told myself too and let the abuse continue. People knew about it, your parents knew about it but chose not to do anything about it. They just looked the other way.”

I looked at him stunned, beginning to sob myself. “If only I would have know I would tried to do something, I would have done something, anything.” I said with tears welling up in my eyes too.

“No child should go through what I had to go through.” He said through the tears. “I was scared and in pain knowing not what to do. People just used and abused me taking advantage of our situation. I even contemplated on put ending it all but couldn’t find the strength to go through with it. I thought that things would improve coming back to the setting I once knew and felt safe. But things didn’t get better. Friends I once knew, turned on me making my life a greater hell than it already is. They treated me like a pariah dog.”

He finally broke down. Here he was a person who I had learned to care about, who I cared about, all broken and wounded and aching badly. Nothing that I could say would soothe the pain he felt. So I did what I knew would be the best. I just hugged him, a warm, tender hug, a way of telling him that I cared for him and would not let anything bad happen to him, cause everything will alright, eventually. I pulled him towards and held on to him tightly. He sobbed bitterly as he buried his face in the embrace, I on my path tried to hold it together and not let my emotions show, not for him, trying my best to comfort him.

We stood that way for quite a while, how long I couldn’t tell, two souls in their own way trying to comfort each other, in a warm embrace. I finally broke the embrace and took his face in my hand. His eyes were red from the tears but grateful to have poured it all out. I wiped away the tears that stained his face. In that moment he stared in my eyes and saw the emotions that I was feeling, damn my eyes for betraying me, and in that moment he leaned forward and kissed me. For a second I was taken aback with what happened, not knowing what to do. But then my feelings for Alfie took over me and I kissed right back.

So there we were, two souls standing in the dark parking, sharing a tender moment. The warm embrace had made way to a passionate kiss, laying emotions bare, raw and right there. For those moments we didn’t care for the world around us, didn’t care if anyone would see us and what would they say, at least not at the time. We were lost in the moment.

I was the first to come out of the moment, and with it came the realisation of what transpired in those moments. Not knowing what to do panic set in. All I wanted was to get out of the place, escape the moment. I just left him standing there wondering what had gotten in me to cause a total 180 degree flip from what had happened just a few moment ago. Left him feeling hurt and confused.

For the next couple of days I tried my best to avoid him, to avoid anyone. I started to feel ashamed of what happened. What if someone saw us? What would they say? I knew there were enough that happened to get the rumour mills running overtime. I cancelled our tutoring sessions and bunked lectures saying I was not feeling too well, had caught a bug. I couldn’t bring myself to face anyone, to face him. Whenever there were people whispering, looking at me, I wondered if they were talking about us and what happened between us making me even more paranoid, making me want to run for the hills, bury my head in the sand, to stay in my room and refuse to come out.

I avoided his calls, finding some excuse or the others to avoid it. But as time went by I began to realise the foolishness of my behaviour. My behaviour was pretty immature and uncalled for and only ended  hurting and damaging the both of us. So I made the call and agreed to meet him at the local coffee house.

When I saw him sitting there, waiting for me arrive, I felt a dagger go through my heart, felt the burden with the guilt. He was sad and broken and hurt and tensed and I was to blame for it. He must have been crying all night as the colour had drained from his face. It seemed like he aged in those few days.

When he saw me, he smiled feebly, trying to smile, trying to put on an act. “Thank you so much for agreeing to meet me,” he said, “I thought you would never want to see me after what happened between us. Trust me I don’t know what got in me.” His voice betrayed the pain he was feeling although he tried hard not to show it but you could see the pain in his eyes, you could feel it in his words. “I am sincerely sorry for my actions,” he said, making me feel all the more guilty, “You were kind to me and stood by me when others taunted me,  mocked me, ridiculed me, spread rumour about me. And I did this to you. I do not want to loose your friendship cause  it means the world to me, even though I may not show it. I am glad you never gave up on even when I was indifferent towards you.”

“If I may dare to say this,” he finally said with hope replacing the pain in his eye, “can we forget what happened and continue to be friends?” He said hopefully.

I looked at him, trying to find the words I wanted to say, I needed to say. “It won’t be easy to forget what happened but we always can and need to move on,” I said slowly, measuring my every words. “I worship I could  but I know I can’t, we can’t take back what happened but what we can do is to try to makes sense of it and what it means.”

“I too owe you an apology,” I said, “ I have treated you badly and there’s no logical excuse for it. What happened caught me by surprise and I ended up not handling it too well. I really care about you and the truth be told, I like you too. What happened caught me unaware. It was spontaneous, it was beautiful, but it also scared the bejesus out of me, left me feeling all confused.”

“As I said, I do like you, but what this is I don’t know. I have never felt like this before, definitely not for any guy, “ I said truthfully, “But I really care for you and you too mean a lot to me. I am not sure what this is but what I do know is that this is definitely not a silly infatuation, there’s some attraction.”

As I said this I could see a smile break on his face, a first for him in a while, I guessed. Seeing him smile brought a sense of relief to me, and I smiled too. “I don’t know where this will lead us, will leave us,” I said, “but I do know that that I will be there for you whenever you need me. I promise to be by your side at all times as your friend, and we can see where this will lead us. So would you be my friend?”

“Of course I will,” he said, smiling from ear to ear, “You are the best thing to happened to me in a while, the best thing that has ever happened to me. A bright light in my darkest day, my knight in shining armour.”

“Ok ok,” I said, unable to hold back a laughter, “I am definitely not all that. But I am honoured that you feel that way. So now with your permission can we order coffee and something to eat, I am famished from all this talking.”

“Of course we can,” he said joining the laughter, for the first time in a while looking all the more adorable, all the more handsome. And I swear he looked even younger as a tension lifted from his face.

So there you have it, an atypical beginning to a not very typical love story.

When the Girl meets Man... and a series of beautiful misunderstandings

As she finished unpacking the final box she felt sharp hunger pang. It had been a a very busy morning. The movers had delivered her stuff last evening and she had spent the entire morning unpacking and arranging and rearranging. She was so caught up that she had forgotten that she had taken a very light breakfast and now was suffering the consequences of it. She knew there was nothing in the house and would need to go down for a quick bite before she could continue with the task which she had set for self.

She stepped in to the bathroom and splashed some water on her face. She surveyed herself in the mirror. A part from the weariness that she felt from all the packing and unpacking and shifting, there was no toll on her features. She was still the pretty, athletic 25 year old who refused to acknowledge her attractiveness, who considered herself a big dork. 

She dabbed her face with a towel and quickly fixed her hair. She made a note to herself that she needed a haircut. She hated her hair getting messy and the summer heat was just getting it matted from the sweat. 

She put on the a fresh tee that she had kept for drying and stepped out of the bathroom when she heard that familiar annoying sound of the leaky faucet of the kitchen sink. She had asked the society to send someone to fix it but no one had come as yet. She could stop by the society office on her way down and insist they send someone.

As soon as she was out of door she saw him there, fixing something on the door of 3A. Age had been kind to him. His salt and pepper hair and stubble just added to his allure. Even wrinkles added to his raw masculinity. He had his tool belt strung on his waist and had a posterior to die for. Maybe this how they felt, she thought when she started to feel flush, referring to those Mills and Boons heroines which she had read in her growing years.

She finally shook herself and willed herself out of her daydream. She tapped him gently on his shoulder. “I know you’re busy. But I’ve recently moved into flat 3D and have a leaky kitchen faucet. I have informed the society but they have yet to send someone to fix it. So if you aren’t too busy could you please come over to fix it.”

She waited for a while for him to react. He gave her a bewildered look at first but then smiled and said “I will be there in a while.” As she walked towards the lift, she turned around to get a glimpse of him one more time. She quickly shifted her gaze when he caught her staring at him, giving her a smile once again.

Later that afternoon, after she had completed unpacking and had satiated her hunger, she heard a knock on the door. She opened the door to find him standing in her doorway. He was still wearing his tool belt and looked hot like hell. Her heart skipped a beat, did a back flip and began racing. So this is what they must have felt, she thought, when they saw the handsome handy man, once again referring to the heroines in those romantic novels.

“So where is this leaky faucet?” he asked her. She led him to the kitchen and pointed to the sink where the faucet was still dripping. He immediately went to work. She couldn’t help but stare at his well shaped ass as he bent over the kitchen sink. He seemed to be struggling with tightening it. “Why don’t you use the larger tool that’s in your pants”, she said innocently without realising what she had just said.

This caused him to squirt water all over himself, getting his tee all wet. He raised his eyebrow and gave her stare and then began grinning. When she finally realised what she had just said and went red with embarrassment. She apologised profusely and offered him a towel to dry himself. They then broke into peels o laughter.

Finally when he fixed the faucet, she offered him cash for his service, he refused to take it. “That wouldn’t be necessary”, he said, “I stay down the hall in flat 3A, so if you need any help you can always ask me.” He gave her his most dazzling smile. She thanked him and closed the door and couldn’t help but be delighted. She knew she was smitten and smiled goofily like a teenage girl. Just then there was a knock on the door again.

“That was quick” she thought to herself as she opened the door. But it wasn’t him, just another man. “Hi! The society sent me to repair the faucet which you had complained about,” he said. For the second time that day she felt embarrassed about what she had just done.

Later that day, she made her way down the corridor to apartment 3A. She gently tapped on the door and waited with baited breath. She was not sure what she was going to say but one thing for sure, she was embarrassed with what had transpired earlier in the day. She had come to apologise for her folly and with a peace offering.

He opened the door and once again her heart skipped a beat, did a flip-flop and began to race. For a moment she did not know what to say, she stood there with a goofy look on her face. “Hi,” he said, finally snapping her out of her foolish thoughts. “How can I help you? I hope the leak has stopped and the service was up to your satisfaction,” he said with a smirk on his face.

Once again she went red with embarrassment. She finally blurted out “Why didn’t you tell me who you were? Why didn’t you stop me?” “For starters you didn’t give me a chance to tell you this,” he said, “and secondly how could I refuse such a beautiful lady.”

“Good Lord he’s flirting with me again,” she thought, “could he get even more better.” “I am no beauty, but I really am grateful for your help. One of my friend gave this wine bottle as a house warming present,” she said holding forth the wine bottle that she had in her hand. “As I am not much of wine drinker, I would like you to have it as a small peace offering, a thank you for coming to the rescue of this damsel in distress and I am not going take no for an answer,” she said with a mischievous twinkle in her eye.

“Since you have given me no choice, I will accept this but on one condition,” he said smirking, “If you would join me tonight for dinner. Nothing fancy, I am making meatballs and spaghetti, and I have been told that I make a mean meatball. So what do you say?” 

“I think that would be perfect,” she said delightfully. “Then it’s a date,” he said, “I will see you at sharp eight. Don’t be late I may just start without you,” he said with a grin. She couldn’t help but return his grin with a big smile. This was probably best thing that happened to her the whole day, the best thing that happened since she moved in.

She couldn’t wait for it to be eight. She couldn’t decide what to wear. She didn’t want something too casual. She wanted to look sophisticated but not too aloof. She wanted to look appealing, but not too desperate. She didn’t want to seem like she was trying too hard. She finally settled on a blue jean and her favourite crop top.

She couldn’t wait for it to be eight. She didn’t want to be late, but somehow time seemed to go by really slowly. “It’s not a date,” she kept telling herself, “just dinner to get acquainted with the new neighbourhood,” as if she was trying to convince herself. She knew she was smitten by him, she liked him, and hoped he felt the same way too. At least that was she felt, if she read the signals right.

She quickly took a shower, put on the clothes she had selected and applied some light make up. At exactly eight she made her way to 3A. She could hardly wait to get to spend time with him, to get to know him, smell him all over again. She couldn’t wait to feel her racing heart pounding against her chest. Was it possible to feel this way for someone who you had just met? She knocked the door and waited with baited breath. 

The door opened but the person behind the door was not him. Instead it was this stunning woman, who was more closer to his age. “How can I help you,” she asked. “I came to..” was all she could muster herself to say. “Oh yeah, you must be the new neighbour,” she said. “Your handyman is in the shower and will be with us in a short while. He told me about the whole incident and we had a good laugh about it.” She said much to her growing embarrassment. “I can’t wait to hear more about you over dinner.”

She felt crushed when she heard this. So there was a us for this dinner. Who was this lady and what was she doing here? Why is she crashing what should be a perfect evening? “Well I actually came to say that I have to take a rain check on dinner. I have been called in for some urgent work and wouldn’t be able to join for dinner,” she lied. “Could you please apologise on my behalf.” In a way she was grateful that he was in the shower, she wouldn’t have been able to look at him and lie to his face. She felt crushed as she made her way back to her apartment, felt like a fool for getting ahead of her own self.

“Who was that?” He asked from the shower as she shut the door. “That was your neighbour. She said she wouldn’t be able to make it for dinner, something about some urgent work that has come up,” she said. “That’s bad”, he said a hint of disappointment in his voice, “I was actually looking forward to it.” He got back into the shower. 

She felt shattered, almost sobbing through the night. The next day she poured her heart to her best friend who had come to visit her. “Girl it looks like you’ve fallen head over heels for your handyman,” he said teasing her, “Who knows that may have been his sister.” “How I wish she was but I don’t think so,” she said. “From what you’ve told me about him, he seem quite the guy. Are you sure he’s straight otherwise I could try for him. I hope you don’t mind the competition,” he continued to tease her. “What competition? Looks like I am already out of it,” she said with a sigh, “But be my guest. And I think he’s pretty straight.” “Girl you need a drink and some R&R,” he said with a big grin, “Let’s go get you a drink.” “So early in the day?” She complained, “but hey, I could do with one. Let me grab my coat and we are off.”

As they made their way down the corridor and to the lift, there he was standing outside his apartment all suited up. She could swear that he looked more handsome than he already was. 

“Hey”, he said, acknowledging her, “so sorry that you couldn’t make it last night, I was really looking forward to it.” She could die a thousand time she heard those words. “Me too! But then work’s work and you can’t run away from it,” she said, trying not to look at him. “That’s too bad, you missed a wonderful dinner. So where are you two heading?” 

“Ouch!” She exclaimed in pain from the nudge that her bestie gave her. “Where are my manners,” she said and paused for a while as it contemplating her next words, “This is my boyfriend Drew, and we were just on our way to check out the roof,  heard it got one awesome view,” she said while clinging on to Drew’s arm. “Hi I am Drew and it’s nice to meet you... wow that’s one strong and firm handshake,” Drew said admiring him. “Well we better be going, we don’t want to keep you away from your work,” she said while pulling at Drew’s arm who continued to admire him. “Hope you like it, it’s one of the best in the  neighbourhood,” he said with a smile on his face, “and hey, hope my ex didn’t give you any problem last evening. She has a way of dropping by unannounced and making herself at home. Well Drew it was nice meeting you.” 

Saying this he went into his apartment and closed the door leaving her gaping. She looked at Drew who gave a look in return. Once again she managed to assume wrongly and mistake the entire situation and shoot herself in the foot. “Why does this always happen to me,” she complained to Drew, who pulled and hugged her as they made their way down the stairs.

Later that evening, she once more found herself standing in front of apartment 3A. She knocked once more and hoped that it wasn’t opened by some strange unknown lady. And it seemed like her prayers when he was the one that opened the door. “Boy he looks so irresistible,” she thought.

She couldn’t help herself but to just have a go at it, “I am so sorry,” she said, “This has all been a series of misunderstanding and bad assumptions. The truth is that I like you, I like you a lot l, and have been doing foolish things, saying foolish things like would you like to grab dinner with me tonight.” 

“I would like that,” he said, catching her totally unaware. “You would like what? She said sounding a bit lost till she realised what he was agreeing to. “That... wow... awesome... then it’s a date.” She blurted excitedly. “Well wouldn’t you have to ask your boyfriend first, I am sure he’s not going to like it,” he inquired. “Oh he’s not my boyfriend. It was just something I said to make you jealous.” She said coyly. “Thank God then,” he said, “he seemed so...” “Gay,” she said interrupting him before he could complete what he was saying, “yes he is and he actually fancies you. So tonight at eight. So that’s a date.” “It looks we are,” he said with a smile. “Then I’ll see you at eight and please don’t be late. I’ll text you the address of the restaurant,” she said excitedly as she made her way back to her apartment.

That evening she wore the best dress and reserved the best seats at her favourite restaurant and ensured that she was there before time. Then she waited for him arrive. She waited and waited for him to arrive but there was no sign of him. She checked to see if she had texted him the right address and then checked to see if there were any message from him. But there were none. She waited and waited till she realised the inevitable, she had been stood up.

Dejectedly she made her way back home. She thought of stopping at his door and check if he was alright but she couldn’t get herself to do that. She just walked by his door and went to her apartment. That night sleep didn’t come to her easily. All she could think of why didn’t he not come? Did she do anything to offend him? There was so many thoughts running through her mind refusing to let her sleep.

Around the early morn, while it was still dark outside, she heard a beep of a new text notification. It was a message from him asking if she could meet him on the rooftop, if she was awake. She thought for a while before responded back with a Yes. She put on a tee, tied her hair and groggily made her way to the rooftop.

He was already there, staring at the cityscape in front of him, while he waited for her to respond, waited for her to come. The view was indeed beautiful with sounds from the street below as the city slowly stirred from its slumber. But all this was lost on her cause all she wanted to do was to find out why? What went wrong?

He turned round to face her. Though he tried to appear to be calm but there was pain in his eye. Even in all this she found him heartbreakingly beautiful. There was so much she wanted to say to him, to ask him, but words seemed to have deserted her. There was an uneasy silence between them.

“I don’t know where to start, and I don’t know if you’ll forgive me for what I did,” he finally said, breaking the silence that was getting unbearable, uncomfortable, that was threatening to choke them. “But I did come to the restaurant on time and through the window I saw you sitting there. You looked so breathtakingly beautiful. I knew that I would be the envy of so many men. But then I saw something that scared me. I saw me. I saw my reflection in the windowpane and I  realised our age difference. While I am at a point in my life I would need stability, you  are discovering love. You will have a number of opportunities to experience love, for me that would not be possible. I worry of hurting, of hurting you if things were to go south and as we we stay in the same building, on the same floor, things could get very awkward between us.”

He paused for a while just to study her expression, her reaction, before he continued, “For this I don’t think we should see each other. I don’t think things would work between us. We would only end up hurting each other, and I am scared of hurting you. I am not getting any younger and I will only disappoint you. I am so sorry, but I needed to say this before it’s too late.” 

“No”, she muttered, finally breaking her silence. “No I didn’t agree with you! You don’t get to decide for the both of us”, she said sternly.

“But...” he began to protest before she cut him off before he could complete what he was trying to say. “It is totally unfair of you to assume this even before things have started. I am aware of the age differences and I am aware of the pitfalls of this but I really like you and I am willing to risk it all. I am scared too of things going south. I am aware that the importance of relationship may be different for the both of us but it is wrong on your path to assume what I want, you are wrong to try nip things at the bud when you have not even given it a chance to take root.“ she said trying not to choke, fighting by the lump that was welling in her throat.

“I may not know love like you do but I would love to learn love,” she said growing ever more confident and sure, “and we all deserve to be loved. I don’t know what the future holds for me, for you, for us, but I am willing to take a risk on it, I am willing to take it one day at time. Are you willing to do the same?” She asked him.

He slowly looked at her, studied her face. A smile slowly broke across his face releasing him from the tension he had felt all night. “I would like that,” he said with a big smile on his face.

“In that case, let’s start from the very beginning,” she said, reciprocating his smile. “I am Grace,” she said, extending her hand to him. “... and I am Will”, he said as he reached out to grab her hand and pull her to him. Before she knew it their lips met and they were in a passionate embrace.

And as they stood there all enveloped in passion, dawn broke and the sun rose basking the world in its gentle morning light, signalling the start of a new day, a new bond, a new relationship.

This Boys Life

Growing up, I was never inclined towards sports, much to the charging of my dad who actually wanted me to take to sports like football or cricket. But then I hated either sport, and still don’t like cricket. Though my dad was over weight he was pretty nimble on his foot, whether it was playing in the goal during the zonal football, or volleyball, in what we called the building’s gutter, or at dancing. In fact, my sisters were more inclined towards sports than I was. I was always that cute kiddo, a bit chubby, who everyone loved to pinch, either the cheek or the butt cheek, completely domesticated.

Maybe that was the reason behind my dad and aunts wanting to put me in a boarding, to play sports and make a man of myself. It was at Don Bosco Lonavla where I played a variety of sports like football, hockey, basketball, volleyball, table-tennis, badminton and even softball, to varying degrees of success. But it was on the tracks where I found my feet. For this I got thank football, all the running and sliding helped me develop my speed. For the first time in my life I won my heat in the 200m, it didn’t matter that I got disqualified in the next heat. In the subsequent years I podiumed (a term I now learnt) in the 100m, 200m, 400m and relay, even representing my school at the taluka level. But I never did long distance running, I felt I didn’t have it in me.

Coming back home, after my stint in the boarding, sports took a backseat to studies and later to my job. Though occasionally played badminton on the weekends with my friend. I remember going to watch the Dream Run of the Mumbai Marathon and being enamoured by all the stars and runners but still felt I didn’t have it in me.

In 2007, for the first time I signed up for the Dream Run at the Pune International Marathon. Though I didn’t much run, I enjoyed the atmosphere. Returning back to Mumbai, after my brief stint in Pune, the Mumbai Marathon was on my To-do List, along with getting a tattoo. And after I got a tattoo on my shoulder, it was time to tick off the next item on the list, to run a marathon. So signed up for my first Half Marathon (you see, they didn’t have any qualification criteria then).

Having no clue how to train, I just went running round and round around my garden for an hour, even getting an inflammation on my knees a week before the race. But all was well by race day and on race day I was excited. I had a good run, completed my first half in 2:00:04 and was super excited about it but even more stoked to see the runners go by and cheer till I went hoarse.

This was what kept me coming back in subsequent years, doing well at times and at times bad. Those days the Mumbai Marathon was the only race I knew of and participated. A chance run-in with an ex-Project Manager who introduced me to the Mumbai Road Runners and to my first race outside the Mumbai Marathon. Remember seeing this dude who ran bare chested and another bald gentleman win a walrus moustache (or was it a handle bar) who kept running back and forth helping runners to finish. During this time I was also introduced to awesome and beautiful Runner, a total diva of the Road, who totally admire and adore. In between I even did a skyscraper dash, where I climbed a 50 storey eight time as part of team Unstoppable. 

It was not until Easter was the first time I ran the Bandra-NCPA with MRR and from that I tried to make it a point to run with them every first Sunday. They became and have become such a great part of my running journey. Through MRR I have met so many runners, who inspire me, who leave me in awe, who mentored me, who I call friends.

It took me a while before I finally decided to attempt my first full, five years to be more precise. My first full was disastrous. Went too fast and suffered cramps, muscle pulls but made it to the end. The next one was much better, no much struggle. But the one after that was a struggle and I promised myself never again, only to sign up again. However this year couldn’t finish it due to bad dehydration much to my disappointment but left me even more determined. 

I don’t think my story is that inspiring or even inspirational. I am work in progress, nothing much to write about or be I spred by. I have never podiumed up till now (waiting to turn 40 so can move up an age group and then at least get something... just kidding) and no dramatic weight loss, in fact, my weight has always yo-yo-ed and with age my pace has dropped. But I have found joy when my close friends find success, I can’t help but cheer and hoot for them. I am one distracted runner. I love to run with my music and will begin humming a tune when I hear my favourite song, and not to forget cheering my friends and fellow runners on, not to forget about being on the look out for them. I am in the end the most indisciplined Runner and have no plan or strategy.

I have always been grateful for being part of the Mumbai Road Runners, for putting me in a position to give back to running for all the love I received from it, for introducing me to runners who have have left me with my jaws on the floor. But most importantly for giving me friends for a lifetime and my running a purpose.

So there you have it, nothing interesting, not quite inspiring, but in the end it is.... This Boys Life.

The Obnoxious Morons

You find them everywhere, at every nook and corner. You turn and you will find them there, totally oblivious to the world, thinking they are above the ordinary. You name it and you’ll find there.

In the office these are the loud mouths who insist on taking calls at their desk, on their speaker phones, in their put-on accents, at times taking their personal calls in the office premises, making us privy to their bitchiness about their mother-in-law and servants, making us an unwilling eavesdropper to their conversation. These are the one who insist on talking, scolding and discussing loudly, much to the annoyance of the people who work near them. They are the ones who think it’s beneath them to stand in line when warming food and and keep the oven door open. 

These are the higher ups who have lost all sense of empathy and feel that everyone beneath them are there to slave for them and client visits are their birth rights, their paid vacation. They talk loudly and greet each other and keep their cabin door open (once again making have to go through all their stupid talks) but will shut it immediately when it comes to the good bit. These are the ones who act totally daft and ask the silliest questions and dress in a way they feel that they are the trend setters and pass snidey comments. But in their defence the air up there is thin and their brains don’t get sufficient oxygen.

While travelling you find them busily chatting on their phone, totally ignoring the orderly queue that is formed, often going beyond the yellow line even though the poor announcers keeps telling them otherwise. They are the ones who block the doors even though there’s just two more station to go for the last stop, and just refuse to budge. They are the one who will wriggle and push and make others uncomfortable so that they can play their games or watch their shows.

On television these are the realty show judges who know nothing about judging but just pander away for the rating really silly catch phrases. Hindi shows who assume that everyone has an IQ of zero.

On the roads these are drivers and riders whole love their horns and keep using them at every opportunity though it’s not called for, who think the road is their property (sometimes you wished they paid for the repairs of it as well). They are the ones who believe that traffic rules are meant to be broken, they’ll jump signals, ride triple seat, helmetless most of the time, on the wrong side of the road. They drive their big cars, but will open their doors to throw trash and spit their paan and tumbacoo.

Even in running you find them. They walk and block and just refuse to budge even if you you ask them to give way. These are the ones who will take selfies in the middle of the route. Sometimes I wonder if with all that pouting would they end up with a duck face.

These are the obnoxious morons that you can’t escape no matter how hard you may try. Sometimes you wonder where were they when God was distributing brains. But then you know you can’t help it because it’s a manufacturing defect.

The Farm-Boy and the Girl in the Cotton Dress

He fell in love with her the moment he saw.   She in her cotton dress, dancing in the wind, as she passed by. She was this beautiful creature that God had created at leisure and with care.

He had known her since they were little. They studied in the same school, however never talking to each other cause of an age old family feud that kept them away from each other. But that never stopped him from swooning over her without letting her know. 

He dropped out of school to tend to his family’s land while she continued her education, even going to the city for her studies. He was all caught with his farming but oh how he loved and missed her. He always felt that for her he didn’t exist as she was always surrounded by her friends, never truly acknowledging him.

Years passed by and the ancient feud was all but forgotten. She came back to tend to her ailing parents. She still wore her cotton frock that would dance in the wind as she passed by. She was even more beautiful than he had known her. 

He lost his heart all over again. But he didn’t have the courage to tell her. He always wondered if someone so well educated and beautiful could love someone like him, a simple country bumpkin.

One day he finally found it in himself to talk to her. He approached her and introduced himself. She initially was taken aback and looked at him with surprise. She listened to him attentively as he explained to her about the feud that had kept them apart, and then he told her how he loved her.

He paused and tried to study her reaction,  wondering yet again if someone like her could love someone like he. She finally looked at him smiled, and with that smiled began their courtship. She knew who he was, had seen and known him all her life, it was just his shy nature had kept her from befriending him. 

Their courtship was initially met with resistance but finally things fell in place. Come spring, the following year, they were married and started a family of their own, putting an end to the age-old feud. 

And so their love story came to be known about the young farm boy and the girl in the cotton dress.