The Lost
Runner
I am a greedy chap when it comes to
running. I want a lot. Yesterday, Neepa and I woke up at 3:15 am and
started our Sunday long run at 4:00am. This
was to be our first serious long run after Comrades 2012 and our first
preparatory run with Comrades 2013 in mind.
2013 is so full of promise. There are a lot of races to be run, some prior
to Comrades 2013, and some after.
When it comes to running, I really
can’t get enough. I want to run all over the world.
First I want to run Standard
Chartered Mumbai Marathon on Jan 20th as a pacer and TV commentator
for Star TV, then I want to run the Tokyo Marathon on Feb 24th and run my
personal best time, then I want to run the Tel Aviv Marathon on March 15th
and later also run through the sacred streets of Jerusalem, then on June 2nd
I will run Comrades, and then in August I want to run a 80k trail race in South
Africa. And that will bring me half-way into my 2013 goals.
Let me not even discuss the 2nd
half of 2013.
By-the-way, did I mention that I am
a greedy guy?
I really do want a lot and I will
certainly be heart-broken if I miss some of these races.
If time and health and family and
work would permit, I would simply spend all my time running races around the
world.
But as I ran yesterday, I thought
as to what was really important, the simple pleasures of running everyday or
the attraction of running exotic races around the world? Which of the two is a want and which of the
two is a need? I sometimes confuse my
wants with my needs and oftentimes I wonder if I am truly grateful for the
blessings that I enjoy.
As I ran in the unfortunate heat
and humidity of a December morning in Mumbai, I remembered one of my favourite
short stories, The Lost Child, written by Mulk Raj Anand.
Anand was born in 1905 and ‘The
Lost Child’, was probably written in the 1930’s. It is a story which can be read at different
levels and I have come to my own conclusion about its meaning.
The story is about a small boy, in
a small village in India, who goes to the village fair along with his mother
and father. The fair was taking place
outside the village gates and as he walks alongside his parents to reach the
fair grounds, he runs between his parent’s legs, brimming with life and
laughter.
As he walks towards the fair
grounds, he is continuously attracted by the toy shops which line the road and continuously
pleads, “I want that toy”. But his patents
simply say, “Come, child, come” and continue walking.
Soon, they leave the village and
walk past a mustard field. The child
runs into this beautiful ‘field of melted gold’ to catch dragonflies and bees.
His parents continue walking on the road and simply call out to him, “Come,
child, come”.
They then come across a grove which
is full of flowers and the boy runs into the grove, forgetting his parents. He
begins to gather flower petals. He then
spots a dove and runs after it, shouting, “Dove, Dove, I want the Dove”. “Come, child, come” is all that his parents
say as they keep walking.
As they enter the fair grounds, the
child sees the sweetmeat-seller hawking, ‘Gulab-jamun, rasgulla, burfi and
jalebi’ and he runs towards the sweetmeat-seller and pleads, “I want that
burfi, I want that burfi, I want that burfi”, but his parents say, “Come,
child, come” and they move on.
He then sees a flower-seller
hawking a garland of gulmohur and is drawn irresistibly to the sweet scent
floating in the air. He runs towards the flower-seller and shouts, “I want that
garland, I want that garland, I want that garland” but his parents say, “Come,
child, come” and they move on.
The child then spies a man selling
balloons and is now possessed by an overwhelming desire to have them all. He runs towards the balloon man and shouts,
“I want some balloons, I want some balloons, I want some balloons”, but his
patents simply say, “Come, child, come” and they move on.
He then notices a snake-charmer
playing a flute to a snake and rushes to see the show. “I want to watch the
show” he says but then knows that his parents won’t stop for him.
Then, he sees a roundabout in full
swing. He notices the other children
having fun on the roundabout and cannot control himself. “I want to go on the
roundabout, I want to go on the roundabout, I want to go on the roundabout,
Please Mother, Please Father, I want to go on the roundabout”
This time, there is no reply. He turns to look at his parents, but they are
not there. He looks ahead, they are not
there, he looks to his right, he looks to his left and he can’t see them.
A full, deep cry rises in his dry
throat, “Mother, Father!” Tears begin to roll down his face and he is gripped
with panic. He runs, hither and thither, in all directions, knowing not where
to go, ‘Mother, Father, Mother, Father!”
He begins to run, through people’s
legs, sobbing, “Mother, Father”. As the crowd thickens outside the gates of the
temple, erected inside the fair grounds, he falls and gets trampled.
A man lifts him up and tries to
soothe him. “How did you get here,
child? Whose baby are you?” the man asked.
The child weeps more bitterly than ever and only cries, “I want my
mother, I want my father”
The man tries to soothe him by
taking him to the roundabout. “Will you like to sit on it?” he asked. The child breaks into wild, deep, shrill sobs
as he cries, “I want my mother, I want my father.”
The man heads towards the juggler
and says, “Look at the cobra and listen to this music”, but the child cries
harder, “I want my mother, I want my father.”
The man takes him near the
balloons, thinking that the bright colours might distract the child. “Would you
like some balloons?” The child turns away and sobs, “I want my mother, I want
my father.”
The kind man, still trying to
pacify the child, takes him to the flower seller and tries to buy him a
garland, but the child turns away and cries, ”I want my mother, I want my
father”.
He then takes him to the sweetmeat
seller and tries to buy him some barfi.
No, says the child and continues sobbing, “I want my mother, I want my
father.”.......
Sometimes, it takes a traumatic
event for us to realize the significance and importance of that which we
already have. If we are unfortunate, the lesson comes home when it is too late.
If we are fortunate, we become aware of our blessings while we are enjoying
them.
Yes, I want to run races all over
the world, but is that what I really need to be happy? I think not.
I know that I am a very blessed man
to be able to wake up every morning and step out my door for a short run. It is
such a privilege to be healthy and to have all my body parts functional, to be
able to step out into the hazy morning light and inhale the slightly-polluted
Mumbai air into my strong lungs.
The greatest blessing is to run
with Neepa by my side.
That, is all I really need and what
I really want!
Great, so after getting a clear perspective on this running business, now let me ponder upon my sex life.