Kitna Deti Hai?

We irreverent Indians are not impressed by atmospherics and believe in quickly getting to the heart of the matter. I am reminded of one of the advertisements where when explained the displacement and size of a Dreamliner, a person is shown asking ‘Kitna Deti Hai’. Every time I have demonstrated by spinning wheel to an interested person the initial question invariably has been, how much yarn I can spin in one day and how long it takes to get enough material for my shirt?

This time before the Times of India reporter came knocking, I was prepared. The raw pressed cotton comes in bundles of one hundred grams each. Each bundle approximately translates to over one thousand meters of yarn, at my present level of proficiency of spinning. The yarn is removed from spindle in bundles of five hundred meters each and one hundred such bundles in turn becomes about ten to twelve meters of cloth. I am able to spin about two hundred and fifty to three hundred meters along with my morning green tea hydration session of between an hour or two. About six months of laboring at the spinning wheel gets me enough cloth for about ten shirts! See it requires no Ramanujam maths!

While externally, spinning can be evaluated in terms of meters of cloth generated, at a deeper level it is relaxing and meditative. Taking the analogy to running, while a run can be physically seen in terms of distance, speed or time spent, but, the internal transformation it brings to one is to be experienced and cannot be described. I will belabor this point further; when I was working in the Ministry, in my frustration at the Sisyphusian task of moving files up and down, I had ranted on one of the chat sites. One of my seniors had sent me the following story on my personal email id;

“God once asked a person to push a wall, the person after dutifully doing it for a few months cursed God that it was useless as the wall had not moved an inch. The punchline is God seemed to have appeared and asked the person to his arms and back muscles and the strength he had gained”. The fault sometimes is we are too narrow in defining our goals, be it speed or distance!

Now, a small episode from Biscuit’s friends’ lesson in stretching to lighten the atmosphere. Before the Last Sunday of Month (LSoM) run of Marina Runners when a trainer was leading his wards through stretching session, a stray doggie couple came to the center and did a synchronized and graceful perfect doggie stretch as if to ask what is so great about it, much to the amusement of the wards and embarrassment of the trainer. Biscuit on his part restricts himself to walking in measured steps unexcited by the provocations of his brethren in the colony (even the belligerent Tiggy!).

Having missed the 36 hour stadium run last week, the decision now was to whether or not to attend the 12 hour Independence Day run at Mumbai. The office situation decided the issue. I will have to miss the trip. While it hurts to be deprived of the cheers of the friendly Mumbai runner community and the famed @Pranav hospitality, I thought about the saving grace in the missing of the run during my morning constitutional 32K today! Twelve hour run on Monday would have involved missing my daily run from Saturday to Tuesday (four days at 32K would be a healthy 128Kms). I could have at best put in at best a 100Km in the 12 hour run on Monday. So even by ‘Kitna Deti Hai’logic, Lalithaji, Hometown mein Daudne mein hi samajhdari hai!

Old dog cannot be taught new tricks?

Few days into the ninth year of Biscuit, my wife excitedly told me after I came back from my run in the morning that Biscuit fetched the newspaper. This is earthshaking news considering that Biscuit has had no interest in fetching games and has always fiercely guarded with his life, and sharp canines, whatever he has grabbed in his mouth during earlier fetch trainings! Is he trying to disprove the old adage or the very premise that he is getting old! My daughter set the record straight by concluding that he must have grabbed the paper in his mouth and when confronted by my angry wife he must have just dropped it sheepishly! For his part he has not shown any other signs of growing up and thank God for that.

Though I have stopped counting the number of days I have run at a stretch, but, I must be fluffing up with pride every day when I line up for my run in the morning. Today, sadly, the little voice in my head won and I went back to sleep after my charkha spinning session in the morning. Must be the accumulated sleep deficit catching up!

This is that time of the year when national flags come out and policemen are out in numbers to guard our ‘Aazadi’! While the usual guardians of law and traffic policemen on my running route have got used to my ways, the reinforcements out during the I-day for, of, and by the police are not in tune with my naked display! A young policeman addressed me with his crooked finger (and some choice epithets in local lingo, which were offensive in tone and thankfully I did not get the purport!), and asked me not to run in the middle of the road. The naked power of the uniform exuding from him got my goat and all my pretense of Gandhian ways went out of the window and I confronted him. The senior official initially supported his subordinate and then saw my point and advised his junior to shut up. I was shaking from inside and jittery for some part of the run thereafter. I could empathise with the stone pelting youth who must be revolting against accumulated ire of facing the lording over by the uniformed in the valley and elsewhere. Is it not ironical that the very force which is sent for protecting the people of a place becomes hated by the same very people?

While on the theme of freedom, I must discuss the misuse of the freedom exercised by youngsters drunk on their brand of intoxicant and sleep deprived, who meet me on the roads during my morning run. Recently, I took the liberty of advising a few to not drink and drive and to wear helmets, if not for the safety of the old man like me who could be hit by them then at least with due regard to the anguish they would cause to their near and dear in case of any accident. From the sheepish smiles I get from them and the slowing down when they cross me I think the message is going in slowly and surely. The hefty increase in fines for such violations like, underage driving, driving without licence/helmet recently promulgated if applied strictly would surely make roads safer for all the users!

Two long runs, the first, the 36 hour stadium run this weekend in Bangalore and next week the 12 hour I-day run have me drooling. The first looks doomed as I am required to be in Chennai during this Sunday. As for the freedom run on the 15th August, I am still debating if repeat of the event done two years back is worth the travel? The Kirti college Vada-pavs, the speciality which Pranav Mehta feeds the participants and all the love and affection of Mumbai runners and crowds is making it tough for me to back out. Fingers and toes crossed!

Unsolicited advice

This heading stayed on a blank page for almost three weeks now. Is this the notorious writer’s block? I am forcing myself to unclog my mind so do not tell me you were not forewarned!

This being the first dispatch after 7th July, (do not tell me you do not know!), it is Biscuit’s birthday, that must take the headlines. For him it was business as usual, his bitter foe Tiggy showed him no concession and welcomed him with his usual ferocity during his morning walk. Being a holiday for Ramadan, he got a long bath and his favourite fruit Papaya and plenty of hugs from family members. It is not manners to talk of pet’s age when they cross a certain age, but, he has crossed a milestone and his age must come on record! One Dog year is considered equivalent of seven human years, and by that reckoning at his age he is now 56 years old and has crossed my age, how soon the time flies! He is bubbly as ever, but, finds climbing on to the steel trunk (which doubles as his perch!) for wearing his leash a bit cumbersome. Someone (another Labrador parent) had said that they are kids till they cross seven years, but, Biscuit must be the Peter Pan of his breed, refusing to grow up and we are not complaining!

Since my last blog many mukalats (verbal encounters!) have happened on the roads, but, this one should take prime place. I normally do not advise youngsters (barring kids on bikes, after they come to talking terms for not wearing helmets!), but, something in the group of three youngsters, standing behind their car blaring loud music on the Savera flyover, (must of be college going age!) glazed eyes made me stop and talk to them. I addressed them that I want to talk to them, but, one of them brushed me aside and started to get into the car. The other two stopped him (must be my unusual gear!) and asked me to go on. I started off telling them of my smoking addiction and how it is the most difficult one to quit. They asked me to translate a few words in Tamil and listened to me patiently. I told them to give a decent attempt at quitting smoking (told them it took me six failed attempt to quit!). I hope i succeeded in making quitting appear more heroic than smoking! I felt a different kind of high after talking to them, hope they succeed in kicking the habit!

There is some affinity between my passion for running and madness. I remember the lady on the Napier bridge who was enjoying the rain the other day and wildly clapping as I ran past her in the rain. A few days later when I ran past her near Anna square police station, she just took off and tried to outrun me. Not to aggravate her, I let her win and she gave me a slow clap as I crossed her. Another time on the pavement on the Flag staff road a guy with matted hair asked me in sign language as to why I run. I put my finger to my temple to indicate madness and that made him angry (he seemed to indicate that his madness was of a higher degree than the level my passion had reached). Guess I have a lot more to practice!

There is this guy who sleeps under the bus shelter near the church after the petrol bunk on the Uttamar Gandhi salai. He is bare bodied waist up like me and he seems to be comparing abs every day as I cross him. That day he showed in sign language that I should be careful of the oncoming traffic, I felt humbled. Here I was envying abs while discounting the loud mouth I have where he remains a silent wonder, comparisons surely are odious!

Then there is this old man (must be as old as our independence!) who sleeps near Saravana Bhawan café. That day his pet and he were snuggling on the sack. His ribcage prompting me to remember Anupam Kher’s dialogue in movie Saaransh, who famously commented about the wrinkles on his wife Rohini Hattingadi’s face that ‘Tere chehre ki jhurrion me mere jeevan ka Saaransh hai!, meaning the lines on your face are my life’s summary! The old man’s ribcage seemed to say the same of the country’s failed tryst with destiny!

Finally, the army guys (a little older lot today!) when crossing me commented that I should be recruited into the Army. I stopped and told them that I had cleared the NDA exam and could have joined the Army about 30 years back, but, if I would have taken to running like I do now would have been anybody’s guess! I think the Army with all the flak for AFSPA and rubber pellets of Kashmir could do with a Gandhi in their ranks!

Mani has been regular in accompanying me on the morning run as he is preparing for the Javadhu run on 7th August, or meeting point on the base of the Savera flyover towards the Saravana Café side. Apart from the morning runs, I got to run the six hour stadium run hosted by the Nungambakkam Nitros, and I got to run a little more than 50Kms between 2.30 PM and 8.30 PM on Saturday, the 9th of July. It felt like old times, running in the stadium round and round! That the run in the afternoon was in addition to the normal 32K in the morning that day was a double treat. I did have to go on diet the next day due to the binge on Saturday!

Keep the child alive in you

Biscuit no longer gets up with me and prefers to get his eight hours of recommended beauty sleep. Does that make me lonely when I am sipping green tea and spinning the charkha? A persistent cuckoo in the neighbourhood gets up around the same time and polishes her singing. The signal for me to stop spinning is when a raucous bunch of birds start their chorus drowning the pleasant cuckoo’s crooning. Interesting how these little creatures have a perfect sense of time.

A dog has littered in the colony and the pups have grown right in front of our eyes. Biscuit watches over them with a longing look as the pups follow their parents having their ‘Masti ki Pathshaala’. They have now been granted independent charge with their parents abandoning them to their vices. The pups (at least the most intrepid and vocal of them) bark at Biscuit as he passes them by in his walks. He does not mind them a bit and has a proprietary air about them. Do I see a wistfulness in Biscuit in having traded for security over freelancing!

Today was my 16th day in a row of running after the long walk during Pinkathon on June 5th. Usually the dogs do not trouble me and mind their own business. Today a dog (veteran of many fights going by his mutilated ear) decided to take me on. Two people in the shadows came out in my support, but, an old man told them to stay put and watch. He told them that I would purr to the dog and it would go back wagging his tail. I was thrilled at this compliment. The dog did not disappoint his trust in my Pied Piper like skills on mesmerizing dogs.

Long distance running as I am sure must be the case with all endurance sports makes one view one’s body with a sense of detachment. This we do experience when we talk to our parts of the body coaxing them to bear the pain with the tacit understanding that given time and persistence the niggle eventually goes away. This came in handy when I was down with dehydration and fever recently.

Unable to get the flow the narration was abandoned here yesterday, today a mild drizzle welcomed me as I started for the run. A police vehicle came very close to me from the opposite side when I was on the Savera flyover. I was surprised that a police beat vehicle was playing truant. I crossed over to the other side of the road across the small divider bracing for some tough questions. Two young policemen in their muftis asked me why I was running in rain. I asked them to remember how we used to welcome showers when we were young. I asked them if they do not feel like walking/running in the rain, they smilingly confessed that but for the expectations of the position they were in, they would love to join me in running in the rain.

After lean attendance of Boyz and Girlz on bikes (they have this emblazoned on the back of their T-shirts!) in the last few weeks, they were out in full strength today. I heard the people waiting in the bus-shelters commenting on the madness of the youngsters in riding in the rain, but, the real comments/guffaws were reserved for the half naked ‘your’s truly’ when I passed by them. The mentally challenged lady singing to herself as she blissfully walked in the rain on the Napier bridge was the only one matching my thanksgiving spirit to weather gods for having blessed the city with showers.

The going on the smooth flooring on the pavement between Lighthouse and Labour statue was ginger and the usually slow pace of the Hubli passenger was further compromised today. I had Ramani Ramiah and his brother for company as I started on my second loop from Lighthouse. It was not for long as the two put in a decent gap very quickly and I preferred caution over bravery in not trying to match their pace mindful of the slippery floor!

Last Sunday Mani Iyer, I will call him the Mumbai Express, joined me for run from Saravana Café after Savera flyover. Close to two weeks of continuous running had me running slowly and I must have dragged his performance down. I gave him choice vintage location during the biological break near Napier bridge and treated him to ice-cold water at Zuka point on the way back.

Yesterday was IYD (this needs no expansion), a group of singers were asserting the diversity amidst the sea of Yoga camps on Marina to mark the World Music Day (Did they come to Gandhi statue to seek his support!). We Babus bent it like Beckham at office too to mark the occasion of the IYD (I took the message that finance officers must become flexible!), Jokes apart it was a nice way to bond with colleagues watching each other contorted in various shapes and poses!

Oh to sweat!

Biscuit is incensed, and rightly so, that the sore backside of his master has been getting more footage than him in the recent blogs. He has had an inflamed eye and has been going around like a peeved Lalita Pawar for the last few weeks. Despite highlighting this to the vet, he refused to give it any importance or medicine saying that it is nothing and will go away. He is back to his normal two eyed exchanges with his constituents!

The much discussed LSoM run of Marina Minnals came and went this last Sunday with much drama and tragedy! I started at 3:45 AM to ensure that I reach Gandhi statue at 4:30AM. Except a few canine friends, who also did not seem concerned by the early start of the Hubli Passenger, the run was usual and relaxed till Gemini circle. I was welcomed with a ‘Va Ya Kabaali’(Welcome Kabaali, the latest avatar of Superstar RajniKanth!) by a person who was diligently applying adhesive to Amma posters sitting on the road. This is how the locals tease (I take it as a praise!). I went near him and thanked him for the superlative praise. He was slightly drunk and explained to his autodriver in waiting that he meets me at many places and that too so early in the morning!

Being compared to superstar was all I needed to counter my niggle! The praise-purana does not end here, when I was crossing the city-center, a youngster jocularly challenged an old man sitting next to him at the bus-shelter to chase and catch me! He said what of him, even the youngster could not catch him and that if he wanted to catch me, he can see me at around 7 AM when I will return the same way! Now, this recharged my battery to full five bars! I felt like I was being compared to DON, (of ‘peecha karna mushkil hi nahin namumkin hai’ fame!).

Hubli passenger had reached the start point before time (4:25AM by clock opposite Gandhi statue!) and even though some people had assembled, I did not want to waste the beach breeze and spare time and did a small loop of about one Km. To complete the ‘Hubli Passenger Jaisa Koi Nahin’praise chant, a young lady walked up and asked why I run every day from Nungambakkam and that too barefoot? It seems she works the graveyard shift in a building near Sterling road signal and has seen me pass by every day. She, it seems, comes for a spin with her colleague for a break from work to Marina. I gave the usual answers to the oft repeated questions and also disclosed the vintage of the Hubli Passenger!

The onerous task of flagging off was taken over by Ramani Ramiah Venkat Sir and we all set off on the run. It was a slow and chatty run and running behind the back of the statues on the service road for new to me. We came to the main road near the Labour statue. The runners had thinned out and I took my middle of the road option and ran alone. The route was a bit new with a diversion of Walajah road till Kalaivanar arangam (I had confused this with “Kalaignar”and trolled the race director, Deepa Bharatkumar, about mispronouncing DMK patriarch before the run!) being added in addition to the Island ground to complete the 21K.

When I was finishing 21K near Gandhi statue it was 7AM and therefore the normal return time for the Hubli Passenger. I crossed a rally of youngsters against Rape and demanding freedom of choice in dressing (I could not agree more, running topless through a bunch of well dressed youngsters!). I did not wait for the post run ceremonies and started on my way back. The run was extremely well organized and the volunteers were very dedicated and enthusiastic!

There was no water at the Zuka (Chocolate Rajni point!) and I could manage a few glasses from a dripping AVM RO tap! Normally, watering the system during run leads to water oozing out in the form of sweat from the body leading to cooling happens, that day the water stayed put. I reached home tired and drank my usual quota of two litres (not exactly, half a bottle left!). This was a mistake, still no sweat outpouring! I took a bath and looked forward to curl into bed with my favourite bowl of richly jiggery sweetened multigrain porridge and the newspaper. The difference was I was not feeling like eating the porridge. What followed was a violent throw up (in the bathroom, not in bed!), much to the distress of Biscuit (he hasn’t seen me performing this before!). The act was repeated after consuming the porridge in another one hour. All this while no excretion of water by way of sweat. I found my temperature rising and thermometer showed a healthy 102.9 deg. F.

How the battle of fever was won with the aid and assistance of my Doctor brother in remote attendance (it helps that he is an avid and as passionate runner!) will be the subject of a separate blog. The sum and substance is that there is no life without ‘Sweat’. I sweated on Monday evening breaking two days of strike like Monsoon breaking through drought hit Vidarbha and with as much relief.

The Hubli passenger is still grounded and hopes to resume service at 4 AM tomorrow!

Life happens

The heading of today’s blog is inspired by the iconic statement made by the protagonist in the movie Forrest Gump, ‘S##t happens’, incidentally it is also boldly emblazoned on a regular beach side walker on Marina whom I cross every day. Yesterday, I was politely stopped by an elderly gentleman (he revealed his age proudly during the course of his advisory to be 75!), he sincerely tried to dissuade me from running every day. I heard him patiently and wished him good health and that he should wish me that I continue to run like this for the next 20 years and seriously rival Fauza Singh’s exploits.

Just as I was celebrating 40 days of continuous running, the ginger ballet over the wet Marina sidewalks seems to have strained my glutes. This brought the Hubli Passenger to a grinding halt putting paid to ambitious plans for overhauling Michelle’s exploits of 194 days uninterrupted effort. I remember the last time when I was counting days was when I had just quit cigarettes, some improvement this! I think the real liberation happens when we stop counting!

I find interesting denizens of night when I start my run. In the last one week, twice a triad of the significant ‘other’ gender pass me on their scooty. They seem to proclaim why should only ‘Boyz and ‘Girlz’ have all the fun. The lead member progressed from shy smiles to waves and finally yesterday she made the statement ‘Does your feet not hurt running barefoot?’, I was reminded of the famous Raj Kumar dialogue in the movie Pakeezah where seeing the exposed bare feet of Meena Kumari he famously said something similar!

Now I do not brace myself when I hear two wheelers approaching from the rear with kids making loud noises, the majority of them now do a slow fly-past with mock salutes as they pass by. I have also become less jumpy on hearing rubber against road screeching in case it is one of the new gangs yet to be domesticated by the charms of the Hubli passenger.

Apart from the runners and walkers who regularly cross me at fixed locations on the Marina, there has been a new addition, this lady laboriously, but, regularly runs by when I am on my way back after the run. We generally meet on the Savera flyover. My friend Ramkumar Sundaresan was with her one day when they crossed me, must find out her story from him! Her determination is admirable!

Pain in the glutes is a real pain, last three days the Hubli passenger had to be grounded! I found the courage to restart the narrative after a slow and painful, but, a regular quota nevertheless today. None of the regulars commented on my absence and here I was brooding the last three days that I must have been missed! Is it their good naturedness that keeps them from proclaiming my slip!

When I crossed a group of youngsters today, I started to react as is my wont when I heard some in the group doing a catcall! Lucky I did not, others in the group put them wise and I earned a salute as a bonus.

The first part of the run was very tough as I was sweating profusely, but, no respite due to the muggy and still weather. The air got cooler and there was even some slight drizzle in the second half of the run. The Sun came out in the end to have the last laugh when I was at my weakest. Hope I am able to recover for the run tomorrow. I met the old man (yes the 75 year old! Who thought I am overstraining for my age!) and glared at him, he did not get the message and smiled back politely!

Ram Rajagopalan is after me in his usual persistent and persuasive way to get to flag off the Marina Minnals Long run this Sunday. I hate these as this appears to be the youngster’s polite way of promoting me to the Margdarshak Mandal. I may huff and puff, but, I plan to run for many more years and would not take the hint to graduate to flagging off status any time in near future! On a serious note, hope this niggle does not altogether keep me off my run on the Sunday!

A graded response

                When the weather looked like having taken its foot of the pedal a few days back, I thought Wall like persistence had paid off! The feel good was short-lived, the empire has struck back with a vengeance, but, the Chennai runners continue to brave the inclement weather and log miles! As if the current level of Bheja-Fry was not enough, Sun has officially taken power-play (Kathri-veyyil in local lingo) from 4^th May. Today was the 25^th day of running after the one day break on 11^th April, which means 53 days of running in the last 54 days. I am trying to get close to Michelle Kakade’s feat of 194 days (of the Golden Quadrilateral run fame!) in my own sedentary way.

                What has been disturbing me in the last few days is the way we respond to issues. It takes a Rs. 7000cr default of Vijay Mallya or enormous use of water for IPL match or for helicopter landing at drought site to shake our collective conscience, while we are inured to washing cars, watering concrete space outdoors for rangoli (the original purpose must have been to suppress dust in mud courtyards!). I am really pained to see the water spilled using a big hose on tar road in the Army area. The jawan doing the honours was polite to my pleadings about the crisis in Latur and need for being economical with this precious resource, he only said orders. Am thinking of petitioning the Defence minister once he gets free from the helicopter scam.

                One run in with my beggar friend (who sits near Labour statue) shook me to the core. He generally gives me a cheerful wave and keeps count of my loop. On that day, he looked very disturbed, stopped me and asked me a fundamental question ‘of what use am I to people around me’! The provocation was a drunkard friend of his getting to shake my hand by walking up to me near the war-memorial when he was sitting on the pavement nearby and I did not stop to talk to him. I also only noticed that day that he had an artificial leg for one of his legs (Maybe, my flaunting of running everyday in front of him got his goat!). He told me that his two sons were CA’s and challenged me to show my card (my ward’s educational qualification!), he passed the judgment that a CA was higher than a Lawyer, I did not contest his claim. I pacified him and got away. Relations are now normal and wattage of his smiles and his resuming honorary duties of being my lap counter are back to their pristine position.

                I have various times commented about how I stretch myself in my run when challenged by a youngster (more so if it is a girl!), what happened last week was different. As I crossed this girl who was stretching, I could hear her starting to run after me. I increased my pace so as to not to let her overtake. She finally caught up after some time, came alongside and told me that she wanted to run with me and that she is a fan. I told her, had I known I would not have stretched myself and as a consequence              made my last few kilometers in the Sun that much more difficult. When I was gloating over this high praise and returning on a high for my second loop, I crossed two young boys who were running slowly. After I crossed them, the younger of the two (must be not more than 10 years!) crossed me effortlessly and after going ahead of ran with his two hands locked behind his back. He led me till the labour statue. I felt it was God’s response to my swollen head from the young lady’s praise. After that whenever they see me, the youngster races me for a bit. Today both of them were running in the opposite direction leading a stray pup. The boy showed no interest in me. He seemed to have achieved the purpose of teaching me the lesson!

                Biscuit (my going on 8 Labrador!) has not been having it easy in the hot weather. He has taken note of the positions of counselors opening up for his breed at Mumbai airport. Considering his age, he would like to be a counselor than a fetcher at KLM airlines (earlier advertised on facebook!). He has no charm of foreign postings and would surely not dream of leaving me behind!

                My plan for the bowling power play (till May 29^th ) is to run easy without looking at the strike/asking rate and just protecting my unbroken run, so wish me luck!