The Jolly Running Soul

When out on your run you and you hear a voice calling out to you, don’t cower, don’t be afraid and runaway from it, it isn’t the voice of God calling out to you the way it did to Samuel or David. If you look you’ll see a short, slightly stout gentleman, with a slight potbelly and a balding crown, calling out to you, running towards you, waving at you with great enthusiasm. Don’t runaway from it, don’t assume he’s one of those crazies, just run to him cause your in for a really warm, genuine hug, one of the best you’ve experienced, one that the doctor recommended any day.

It’s easy to dismiss him as just another runner, but he’s so much more than that. He is disciplined and diligent, never missing a training session, never missing an opportunity to run (though his form when he does those drill may be far from perfect), you’ll always see him completing the mileage he set out to do.

But that’s not the only reason that makes him special. He’s such jolly, cheery and enthusiastic running soul, and his enthusiasm is infectious. He in many ways reminds me of a Laughing Buddha, always smiling, always cheery, always jolly. It so easy to get wrapped up in his cheeriness, his enthusiasm, his joy. He exudes a warmth that is felt in every hug, that fills your heart with joy, a recharge you never knew you needed, or your desperately needed.

He such a loving and warm soul that no matter which side of the road you are on he will always call out to you, cheer you on, greet you with his warm smile, and if you should find yourself on the same side of the road, will grab you in a bear hug. Seeing him always brings a smile on ones face.

He is truly one of the few runners who is always cheery when you see him, always smiling, always supporting and cheering your on. Someone you can’t help but smile with him. Truly unique person, a gem, a one of a kind runner, a true Jolly Running Soul.

Running Crazzies

It takes a special type of crazy to wake up in the morning and go for a run in the pouring rain, while the rest of the world is all cuddled and wrapped up in their beds, the sound of the pouring rain lulling them to sleep, deterring from daring to step outside, stopping them from showing any unwarranted bravery.

You question the sanity of your decision as the rain pours like cats and dogs and in sheets, as your visibility is low and most roads are waterlogged. But then you’re one crazy runner who can brave the rains just to get a good run under his belt. So no matter the downpour, you will go for your runs.

So you splish and you splash, running in ankle deep water for most of the time. But no matter the water level you continue to go. Even a herd of deer, who happen to cross your path, give you a strange bewildered look as if to say what are these strange doing in the pouring rain.

You’re least bothered about their expressions and just ooh and aah about seeing them up close and personal. You continue to plod on, splashing through the rains, not letting the water deter you from going on, till you can go further no more. The dry riverbed of summer, which turned into a subtle stream after the last few rains, is now a raging rapids, thanks to the continuous downpour, trapping the people who managed to go on the other side before the water began to flow. You’re captivated, left in awe with the fury with which the water flowed, taking with anything that would stand in its way. You want to click a picture of it, but the pouring rains prevents you from doing just that, till you find someone with an umbrella. For a moment the thought of crossing over, taking a chance, floats in your head, till it’s cruelly shot down by reasoning.

So you reluctantly retrace your steps and head up Gandhi Tekadi, aur kuch nahin to Gandhi say he kaam chalana padenga. So you hurdle over fallen trees and splash in flowing water to get to the top, nature’s very own obstacle course. By now your clothes have become your second skin, clinging to your body, highlighting all your curves and edges, things you wished were rather not showing (if you know what I mean). Reaching the top, as it is now customary, you borrow an Uncle’s umbrella to click pics. Once the pics are clicked, it’s time to make your way out of the gate and on to the actual road, right in time before the park is closed for all.

The conclusion of the entire little running adventure is that you continue to run, no matter the weather, the runnholic in you will always itch to go out for a run, come rain or sunshine, nor matter what your schedule will be like, you are crazy and insane enough to go out for a run in the crazy 

running weather.

It’s OK to not be OK

What’s normal but a subjective term, cause what may seem normal to you may not be normal to someone else, and what may be normal to someone may not be normal to you. To the world you may not seem normal, and to you the world may not seem normal. So who is right and who is wrong? It’s you against the world!

Who defines what is normal? Who sets the parameters of what is normal and what is not? Who gets to decide, who gets to judge? They say, ok, according to the Book of Genesis, God created man in his own likeness, so when you decide to label as someone as not normal, do you mean God created something defective, something imperfect. When you label someone as not normal do you mean to say that God is not normal, after all we are created in his likeness. Perfection is overrated. No one is perfect and we are no one. So we are imperfectly perfect.

We are who we are meant to be. Conceived and created in the way we should be. So it doesn’t matter if your black or white, male or female, transgender, straight or gay, tall or short, fat or thin, young or old, your nationality, your religion, your orientation makes who you are meant to be. You’re beautiful in your own way cause remember god can make no mistake, cause if god made a mistake then who are we but mere humans.

We are meant to be different, we are meant to standout. We are our unique in our own quirky way. What fun would it be if we were just like the next person, conforming to what society terms as normal. No one can tell you that your not normal when they themselves may not be able to state what is normal. Society will never see the world as we do.  It’s our duty to help them see the world the way you do, may be a better world.

If someone laughs at you and call you names, join them, laugh with them, laugh at them, cause let’s face it, they are an ignorant cause they know not what they speak, cause their logic will frustrate you and their brains have taken leave. Be who you are, the way you are meant to be. Let no one tell you otherwise. Remember, it’s normal to not be normal. It’s ok to be not not ok.

The Parental Control: An Eternal Struggle

What are parents but the giver of life, the ones responsible for our conception, our creation, for bringing us into this world, breathing life into us, our very existence. But as much as we are eternally grateful for their presence in our lives and all that they have done for us, they tend to become the bane of our existence when they refuse to relinquish control over us.

So often parents are the ones who want to be at the reign, the ones at the wheel, driving you crazy with their expectations. They have their own expectations and dreams and you are expected to toe the line, and if you don’t meet or fulfil them then you’re not going to hear the end of it. They will never let a single moment go to remind you about it, and when you decide to forge your own path and not go down the path they foresee for you, when you don’t turn out the way they want you to, or do the things they don’t approve of, you need to be strong to face what is to come. Any deviation is met with resistance.

Many conflicts are purely due to expectations, what’s expected from you and what you are meant to be, the standards you are expected to meet. This ends up be the cause for many strained relationship, many a unhappy and fractured families, all because one refused to loosen the reign, give up the driver’s seat, let someone else drive for a change.

A parent is the child’s first teacher, instilling both knowledge and discipline in them. As their child grow a parent become their guides, helping them forge their own paths, directing and nurturing them, treating them like an adult capable of taking their own decision, taking a back seat while letting them drive their own lives. We are humans and there are going to be times we will will stumble and fall, we are bound to make mistake. But it’s through our mistakes we will learn, in every fall we shall rise. It’s here we need some one to guide us, it here where we need someone to help pick ourselves up, it’s here where we need our parents the most. 

We look up to our parents for advice, for guidance, for support. As much as we want our parents to understand us, we too need to understand them, to understand where they are coming from, not blindly rebel, refuse, clash with them. Nothing good will come out from a conflict other than a strained and unhappy relationship. We need to learn to talk, to say what’s troubling us. If we want them to understand us we need to help them see our point of view, to understand who we are and what we choose to do. They would need to let go in order to let their child grow.

In the end rather we driving each other crazies with the constant struggle for control, we need to collaborate to help us grow. This would help both avoid conflicts and bitter feelings helping both to grow.

The Cheering Souls

We runners don’t run and race all the time. Sometimes we do turn up for races not to run but to cheer our fellow runners on, to cheer our friends on. I swear, we really do! It’s easy to get all caught up in the excitement of the start line, the nervousness, the unbearable tension of wanting to just go and get it done with, so it takes great restrains to not give in and just join in, after all the park is open to all, but then you are mindful you’ve got to run a race the next, your first complete Trail Run, your first Half Marathon post TMM (sadly the race got postponed due to rains, a wise division though, but we do pray and remember the ones affected by it).

So as you ride down to the park, in the pouring rain, you question your decision, your sanity, of riding in the rain not to race but just to cheer your friends on and maybe even pace a friend or two (or none). You somehow get to the park splashing away in the rains. You greet a bunch of enthusiastic runners who made it despite the pouring rain. And there at the start line you find the volunteers, members of the BNP Green Runners, many of whom are friends, many who you know by face but not by names, frantically and enthusiastically serving water and Enerzal to the runners who need it.

You join in helping them cause their enthusiasm is contagious and it gets to you too and you get enveloped in the excitement. The energy at the start line is electrifying (and not just because of all the lightening and thundering). They do an awesome job ensuring that every runner starts hydrated, ensuring that not even one runner is missed, even the late comers. When it pours we even joked that the Rain Gods were providing their own form of hydration, albeit in its purest form.

As the race starts you join them in cheering the runners who slowly cross the start line, screaming yourself hoarse wishing everyone the very best. Once the last runner is served you move with them to the start of Gandhi Tekadi, to help direct runners who would return from Kanheri and would have to go up Gandhi to complete one loop (they had to two loops to complete their 25). So we all stood there waiting for the first runners, positioning ourselves so that would not hinder runners but also be able to direct them in the right direction. They are open to suggestions and not once ignoring, and take into consideration any help and support I could provide, not once making me feel un-welcomes, in fact made me feel right at home, a part of the team.

So as we wait for the first runner to come, the kids practise their steps that they had choreographed to cheer the runners on, to provide them the energy they needed. Girls in their pretty pink visors and their Pom-Pom and the boys with their lime green hats, trying to learn steps, remember steps. We stood there smiling as we saw them practice. 

It was learned that a tree had fallen down near Kanheri, needing adjustment to be made immediately without hampering the race, without inconveniencing or endangering the runner. They immediately sprung into action, to troubleshoot the situation and be ready before the first runner finished. A big salute to their quick thinking and proactiveness for not letting the race get affected.

So as the lead bike approached with the first runner approached, he was greeted very enthusiastically, cheered on by each of us as  he took off up Gandhi Tekadi. And from there started the flow of runners. They too were greeted with enthusiasm,  cheered on. Not once did the energy ever dipped, cheering and howling as the runners went by, “Come on you can do this”, “Just keep running”, “One more loop to go”, “Runners turn left”! They kept cheering runners on till they went hoarse. But still continued, high fiveing the runners who went by, attending to runners who needed help (there’s a reason why it is called Endurathon).

Once the number of runners began to dwindle, and the leader finished his second loop, I finally gave into temptation and joined my friend to run a loop up Gandhi Tekadi, especially since I had given my water to a runner who needed it more at the time than I did. The volunteers at the top were more than helpful in getting the bottle filled, not once bothering that I was not participant and were more than willing to help. Even the volunteers on the way to Gandhi Tekadi were cheering all runners on irrespective whether they were participants or not. The beauty when runners organises races for runners. 

Now on my way to Kanheri I saw my buddy Pankti going at it, mustering every ounce or strength, stamina, energy she could muster, willing herself to keep going. So decided to help cover the the last couple of kms (which included going up Gandhi Tekadi once more). Since we train together i knew she would be able to catch up to the lady from her age group, who was currently running third. So pushed her, cheered her on, constantly talking to her, cheering her, was so ready to hear her scream back at asking me to shut the fuck up, considering she was giving it all and her legs were tired after all she had completed one and half loop and my legs were relatively fresh. But she didn’t really yell back and just chugged along giving it her all. And though she narrowly missed 3rd by mere 10 seconds, she did awesomely well, was super proud of her, after all Endurathon is always a tough race, but she did in a sub 2:30.

So after the race, as it is custom, it was time to congratulate the runners who had completed the race, the ones who had the courage to undertake this daunting race, to click pics and in general to socialise. Even though I didn’t participate not once did I feel out of place. It was great to meet so many running friends, many of whom you meet mostly at races and Running events (and as I hadn’t raced till TMM it had been quite a long time). It was fun mingling with them, to catch up with them, click pics with them.

In the end, as usual, had a fun Saturday morning (one of the few races actually to take place on a Saturday), cheering, supporting my fellow runners. Was so proud of so many of my friends who undertook and successfully completed the race, many of whom inspire you. And then it’s a big salute to the organisers and volunteers who did an awesome job taking care of runners, going out of their to ensure that runners have a good experience, selflessly cheering them , serving them, supporting them. I swear I am going to be back next year after missing it  this year, after all I can safely call BNP my home ground.

In an unfortunate turn of events the race that I had signed up had to be postponed due to the rains and the holding area getting submerged, but it was a wise and thoughtful decision. The organisers were instead helping to evacuate villagers who were affected by the rains and flood. Two instances of organisers going beyond themselves to ensure the runners’ safety and well being of the runners, their priority, cause it isn’t always about the money. 

Help ME make it through the Night

They were two lost souls, a bit broken, a bit damaged, imperfectly perfect. Their past may have scared them but it hadn’t quite broken them. They had weathered their storms, which had damaged then a bit, but they came out stronger. They were two lonely souls in this world, who felt drawn to each other, a pull towards each other, a kindred spirit. Circumstances had torn them apart but destiny had other plans and conspired to bring them together once again.

As they sat there, trying to catch up, trying make up for lost time, they could feel this pull towards each other. A tension, an undercurrent, an attraction that they both felt, but were too shy to acknowledge, too scared to accept, conscious of society and the world at large. They sat there, bring each other to speed to what had happened all the time they were apart, trying hard to fight the urge to act on how they really felt.

As they ate silently, an awkward silent, a song began to play, a slow music. In that moment, it was now or never, to be brave and acknowledge what they truly felt for each other, the feeling that they had been denying, the feeling that they were trying to push back but could not push back.

He got up from his seat and to him, taking him by the hand, taking him by surprise, pulling him towards him. He held his hand and put his hands around his waist, and began to move slowly to the music. At first, a little hesitant, a little shy, but slowly letting themselves get lost in the rhythm of the music, the beating of their hearts, which was pounding against their chest, threatening to break free.

He placed his head over his shoulder, as they moved slowly to the rhythm of the music, moving together in unison, two bodies joined by their souls. They didn’t care if the world saw this as right or wrong, they didn’t care what it would say tomorrow. They didn’t want to think what they would say tomorrow, they didn’t want to try and understand. Yesterday had come and gone and tomorrow was out of sight. All they had was here and now, they wanted to live in the moment. They needed each other cause it was sad to be all alone. They needed a friend, a company, but they also needed something much more to help them make it through the night.

As the music slowly came to an end, they slowly moved to each other, forehead to lip, nose to nose, and slowly and shyly and finally, lips meeting lip, letting them interlock, letting the passion they felt fuel it. They didn’t care who was looking, they wanted to live in that moment, live in that passion. They were two lonely souls, they didn’t want to be lonely no more.

He paid the bill and took him by the hand. They didn’t care what tomorrow would bring, all they had was here and now, they didn’t want to be alone, cause tonight they needed a friend to help them make it through the night, they needed each other to help them make it through life.

When all is said and done...

She had never envisioned her life taking this turn but yet here she was. Falling in love was never part of her plan, if she did have a plan in the first place, but yet here she was falling in love with this man. In fact he wasn’t even the type of guy she would normally go out with, let alone be interested in, yet here she was falling in love with him, each day of her life. They often shared a good laugh when they admitted the unfavourable impression that they initially had about each other.

He had checked out of the place where he was staying and moved into the apartment which she was given, as it was close to the cafe, where he had taken a role of the bartender, which he wasn’t very good at, but then most of the patron normally didn’t care and he was quick learner. On the plus side he got to learn about all the gossips of the town. On the negative side not all the gossip was welcome, and after sometime it did get to him after he heard the same thing over and over again. She usually laughed at it when he narrated his situation to her, much to his irritation.

Her life was perfect, not in the way she had intended for it. She liked the twist it had taken. And the twist was what that had made it magical. They spent major part of their day working at the cafe, taking lunch and breaks together, flirting at every opportunity. During their day off they explored the city, the nearby cities, spending time on the beach or in the meadow, if they weren’t making love. Life was beautiful, life was magical.

As days went by she began to notice a yearning in him, a call to return to a life he had once known. She could feel it every time he mentioned it, every time he told her about the people and office from his life who tried to get in touch with him. This life was her dream, what she intended for, this was not he wanted. He just latched on it because of her. She knew she had to do what was right by him, even if it meant breaking his heart and hurting him in return. She had to stop being selfish and have him live her life but let him go to live the life meant for him.

When he told her about an offer which he had received which kind of interested him, she knew this was her chance. She tried to convince him to consider the offer and take it, he may not get a such a chance ever again. She tried to counter his argument that this was her dream and not his, and it would be wrong, would be selfish to hold him back, when he said he was happy here.

When he realised there was no winning with her, he finally gave up and said he would consider the offer on the condition that she would come with him. But then she was not ready to return back to a life she left behind, that life was not meant for her and there was no returning back for her. That was a life meant for him, this was her  life, the one she was meant to live.

They argued the whole night and for the next couple of days, both not willing to budge from their respective position. She knew she had to hold her ground cause it was for his best, even if he didn’t see it. He finally relented in the condition she would visit him. She reluctantly accepted this condition.

Her heart broke to a thousand place as she saw him get on the ferry and leave for the main land. She knew he was hurting, hurting bad, maybe much more than her (if it was possible). She kept telling herself that was what best for him, best for her, best for them. Trying to convince herself that what she was doing was right, to keep her from jumping into the ferry and into his arms, but she knew there were was no happy ending for them, cause this was no fairy tale.

She returned back to the life she had made for herself, trying futilely to get him out of her mind. She couldn’t help herself when her mind wandered towards the thoughts of him. But she was determined to try and put him behind her and this thought kept pushing her on.

Then one day she felt queasy and needed to be taken to the doctor. She didn’t realise that she had missed her period, and was in shock when she learned that their love had planted a seed in her and it was growing and would soon bear fruits. After the initial shock wore off, she began to debate if she should tell him, but then he would have a reason to return, which wasn’t something she wanted (though secretly she hoped for). 

So she decided to go down this road all by herself. Once more she stood on the cusp of something new wondering where would life take her, what turn would it take now, what was in store for her. It was a daunting road that lay ahead of her, one if chosen then there was no turning back. This thought frightened her. But she realised she had this feeling before, and she made her way through it, she determined to do it once again. She had no clue what life had in store for her but she was ready to undertake the adventure ahead, to face what lay ahead. Cause when all is said and done she found the strength from within her.