Monday, February 25, 2013

Chautauqua -Ghod Bunder to Ghod Dhod Road



Pardon my dear friends! I shall be using new nicknames for you based on your features. 
If I were to draw your caricatures, I would attach your faces to the famous personalities of my awareness. 
(I agree; I am taking respite in “idolism” here. Nevertheless.. it may seem humorous to you.)

I have never been to Gujarat. The Surat night marathon seemed like a good opportunity to travel to the state that I had heard a lot about. My friend “Sanjeev Kumar” hails from the state and often talked of the huge development. He started the idea, “Chalo. Surat Chalte hain”.

Till then, Surat seemed to be the center of trade in ancient times where my beloved king drew funds from, for his fight towards Hindavi Swarajya. I was told that there were 4 such withdrawals, more so from British ATMs under Mughal rule. I would not get into details of the right or wrong side of these and that is for the politicians and “influenced” historians to chew on. I gather that he did what was essential for his plans.

3AM 25 Feb.
The alarm woke me up. The night had not let me sleep as, pre marathon night, the high anxiety often rules and I prefer bed bug bites.

A cup of green tea allowed me to get over the early morning chores quicker. The Society guard was in deep slumber as I opened the gate to get my car out. I picked up Sanjeev Kumar and we drove to Madhavan’s place. We preferred the i20 Diesel to take us to Surat. Nana Patelkar lives close by and he was not punctual to join the movie set. As he arrived, we (the supreme jury) ruled a sentence for the delay. “Pay all the tolls.”

The next job was to pick Bhimsen. We took a wrong turn and ended up in a maze. I was sure that I knew the premises well but a lot changes in 14 years. We were lost and Sanjeev made a call.
Soon, Bhimsen rode on his mobike towards us and we picked him and his gear.

The stars of the ‘international’ event were talking and I was switched off; looking at the darkness from the car window zoom past. It reminded me of Mangesh and our trek to Bhimashankar.

Sanjeev was instructing Madhavan, “ Keep the car on the center track. Too many accidents of cars getting on the 3rd track from the wrong side of the road.” What a cheering thought.
Bhimsen was acting as a "Governer" who spoke if the speed went beyong 100kmph.

We were already at Thane and reached Ghodbunder without any delays. The traffic was scanty.

We pulled over the side into a restaurant. All of us ordered Upma. The dish looked sumptuous when it arrived. But no one was super pleased. It was sweet like Sheera with some salt added. The tea was like sweet overboiled jam.
Sanjeev Kumar was incharge of the chariot (of fire) as he was well aware of the Gujarat roads.

Madhavan is a good natured guy and he started a chat that drew my attention. Religion..
He talked about Good guys (with bad side), I could see that he was struggling with few conflicts .
Sanjeev Kumar advised, “ Make things easy. Do not complicate life.”
Murti puja (Idol worship). Madhavan insisted that an idol was essential as an individual could focus on a form.

My mind raced with the philosophy that had stuck with me. It had made things easier for myself.

Focus on form? I was in turmoil. Form meant that the statute had to carry beauty and elegance.
What about the ugly with a better frame of mind? We were being selective to the perception of beauty. Was I not doing the same when I draw portraits of females who I find beautiful?
Would I care to draw Ugly looking people more often?

Few religions did not focus of idol worship. Were they higher up the chain? Were they asking individuals to focus on personal development or were they laying strict rules to obey?

My mind would choose personal up-liftment. What would I do if I had to bring out the better part of me? What is “better”? I was definitely beyond idol worship.
On the contrary, I am influenced by Mallory’s sculpture of Dominique for the Stoddard temple (The Fountain head). Art did have ways to trigger spiritual up-liftment. Would praying an idol be doing the same? I could not answer my doubt and so I never floated this thought with the movie stars I travelled with.

I floated the idea, “We look at role models that we attempt to follow. The role model vanishes when we choose another role model. We are already at a higher stage.”

I thought, “Its just like Jonathan seagull who searches for peers who take him beyond his level? His job would be to get others who seek his talent get better. Then depart to a higher stage. We were doing the same when we ran marathons. We now have our flock which few may want to join. We may want to breed them and continue on our way to find better individuals that help us seek the higher plane.”

Madhavan mentioned, “ Its hard to find a role model who has everything good. There is always a bad side.”

I mentioned my rule, “Stay away from the negative side which you do not like. Focus on the good part.” Management talk?

“Jonathan. There is nothing such as heaven. Being perfect and an attempt to reach perfection is heaven.”

I had changed my role models so many times. It’s a matter of following different philosophy as per the challenges. But I would firstly apply what suits to my sense of life.

“Why do we have so many gods?”
“A religion is an institution that gets followers and expands to suit larger population.”

I wondered if Religion is Political. Religion would never exist if people don’t. It’s a vehicle that nurtures certain philosophical values. For an older religion there would be so many Gods that are supreme “locally” and are easier to follow. Also, the definition of “God” changes with time.

The later gods in Dashavatar, suit the humans more. Perhaps, because they guide people in their day to day lives i.e their actions are more relaistic to "absorb". The older ones are farther away as they are too supreme or is the negative aspect of the personality forgotten with time. I recalled the Magdalene theory from Da Vinci code.

The latest god “Buddha”. Buddhism preached idol less religion, yet we see a lot of statues from Buddha. It is us folks who create “Gods” that become permanent role models that suit larger population. Every “God” then “Takes care” of the damned during a particular time span. Is this not a part of local politics? The god being the ruler of the damned that need “upliftment”.

The last Sikh guru wrote his commandments in a book; perhaps he wanted the followers to stay away from Idol worship. But the humans created an idol out of the Grantha Sahib. Its us humans, who create idols.

I said, “I do not follow gods. I like the environment around the temple that is peaceful and its the environment that gets my mind at peaceful. The more ancient and secluded, the better.”

Then I brooded, “If my mind is at unrest, I would indulge in learning new things that focus the mind. Trying to be better than I was. Till I “feel” superhuman. When trying to provoke the super human in myself, I feel close to god.”

Madhavan said, “We humans cannot be strong all the time. That’s why we should remember god.”

I replied, “I do remember god, but only when I am weak and shattered. I have no plan to remain weak forever and hence would not go for his help daily.
Yes. God is a relief when I am very very tired. He would calm me so that I get strong again and find my way around the problems.
When I lose belief in myself I would go to the god. Finding strength to do things that calm the mind is my way to god.
There are people in this world who I look upon as role models. If I try to follow them till I get their level of strength, is my way to live beyond my crowd.”

My mind traveled to the last time when I had prayed to god. It was the Tinchenkhang accident where I wished my friends were still alive. I was helpless, shattered but the call of the time was a safe descent of injured sherpas.

It reminded me of Jonathan seagull. Disassociate a person from society. Would he still feel strong?
Would he need a religion? We recalled Tom Hanks from Castaway. The football becomes a god and its company is a relief. I thought, “Perhaps, I am talking so as I am strong now. Would I be so if I am in pits?”

Disassociate an artist from the critic. Is he still as good?

The pits last only for some time. You would always ride a high wave only if you have the wit to balance and stay on course. Again, a wave is matter of time. It shall always fling you to the beach. Peaks and valleys are all in the mind. Learn to neutralize but provoke it when you need.

We talked about the life of Pi. Which story do you believe in? The first of the second?

I was keen in the first story. It is closer to a fantasy. The second is practical. (The more practical guys has chosen the second story.)
As an artist do I choose fantasy over Practicality? Perhaps this explains. I am not good an artist when I am working on implementations.

Fantasy allows me to be at places that are beyond practical. My idea would be to fantasize first, then try to be practical to achieve something in between. Perhaps SMART goals are not for Over smart rebels. 

A Castaway I prefer to be, over an Out caste.
Jonathan seagull? He was too good for mere seagulls and thus outcast?

Time flies fast as we talk and we take the diversion to Surat. Sanjeev Kumar parked our car and we went to his friends place and then to the Country Club after lunch.

Neena  was an acquaintance I made at Hyderabad Marathon. We ran at almost same pace. I called her up before we met for bib collection. Neena deserves the name from the ABBA song, as she handles the medical profession but is an A-class veteran runner outside work. Her husband is also in same profession, also a very good runner. I had never met him and I thought I would make an acquaintance at the bib collection.

We collected the bibs and T shirts and traveled back to the hotel. I dozed away trying to recuperate before the run. Soon it was time to dress. I took a shower and dressed up.

The traffic in Surat was very dense. Perhaps, most of the Surat was driving to the start point on Ghod Dhod road. We went to the half marathon lot and viewed the traditional folk dances on a large screen. I met Neena, who recognized me from my bare feet. I introduced her to my friend circle. She invited us for breakfast, the next day.

As I looked around I saw plenty of “Veteran runners” who were in much better physical shape than myself. I had set a goal for myself, “ Complete the run within 2 hrs.” Neena had advised to go easy as it was humid and hot night. Somehow, I was not convinced.

At the start of the race, the crowd started pushing way to get to front. Bipasha Basu was the centre of attraction. Madhavan pulled me aside as he fear us being trampled. I was at big risk with my bare feet. I could see other senior veteran runners as peaceful as me! The flock of mature sea gulls?

The run had started and I walked my way to the mats. From there I started to wriggle my way to the front increasing my pace. Then I saw the crowd on both sides of the road waving and cheering. The big difference from Mumbai? The crowd never dwindled.

The sides of the road were packed, as if we were elite runners. To achieve sub two hr target this was the best crowd that “God” could give me.

I was all heating up. I felt heat in my head and I started dousing it with water. Trickles of warm water ran down my neck and back. There was absolutely no wind and the body temperature did not reduce. At 5km, I found that I was just in time and if I maintained this pace I could manage sub2.

I reached the 10km mark in 1 hr 2 minutes. I knew that I could not make it under 2 and my interest started to dwindle. If only, I could maintain my pace. I was learning through my mistakes. Over pacing at start never works for me, unless it is cold. I was fortunate to run BF as I could not have tolerated the heat. I kept sprinkling the water to reduce the effect of heat. At 15km, I saw Neena on the other side of the road a good 5 min ahead. She was going strong.

The last 5 kms seemed never ending. This was only a half marathon! Why was I so tired?
Nana overtook me. He tried to cheer me up to start a jog.

A group of “Veterans” was running along with me. I had already switched to run-walk-run, that I would usually do only after 35 kms. I jogged through the 21st km to the finish line. It was 2:20 since I started.

I grabbed an apple juice, a bottle of  water and wore my finish medal.

Nana and I did some stretches to relax. Bhimsen was at the finish line taking snaps. He had finished well @ 2:18. Nana achieved his PB @ 2:19. He looked absolutely fine. I felt dehydrated.
Madhavan arrived, then Sanjeev Kumar. Sanjeev had had a tough time holding food inside him.

Neena was a gold medalist as she won the Veteran womens title for second time in a row.
She mentioned that she ran barefoot for a while with shoes in her hands.
She reminded me about the breakfast next day. I replied, “ Depends on when we will wake up.”
I was in no good shape.

11:45 PM.

We reached the hotel. The food counter had closed. There was a nearby pizza place and I had no appetite for cheesy stuff. Bhimsen opened his bag to pull out a cake that he had thoughtfully carried. After eating few mouthfuls, I realized that I was very hungry.

I went for a bath but there was no hot water. I rinsed my feet and arms. I shivered as I walked into the room. Definitely something was wrong. The water that I had doused on the head ..perhaps…..!!
Neena had mentioned, "Its normally advised that you should sprinkle water on shoulder below. hum log yane ki Doctors... :)"

We woke up late and Uppal who stayed close by, had invited us for snacks. We had planned to leave after the snacks and I called Neena (who had been planning lunch for us) and informed that we would be leaving after snacks.

Surat was a great experience, apart from the Chautauqua, during the journey.

I learned that I should maintain my pace and not overshoot. A target should be set in compliance with the climatic conditions. One baseline doesn’t work at another place, unless I practice more.
I had to believe in my Karma and not to jump to unrealistic goals. For now keep them at the back of my mind.

The Surati’s believe in true enjoyment and there is strong companionship to conduct social events with zest and fervor. Hat’s off to my friends at Surat who organize these grand events.

My fate: Alea iacta est..The painting that I completed a day before the marathon.






Monday, January 21, 2013

SCMM 2013

The splurge on 31 dec and the continued stress at work was not doing me any good. The key is to switch off work as you enter home was not working. Perhaps it was not just me. My entire team was facing this.


Easy to say.. Hard to practice. Running had often provided me with an avenue close to meditation, but something did not work this time. It showed up when I gave up Pune Marathon at 32KM-Leg pain! Then I timed 3:30+ on a Pune running event to prepare for SCMM. The leg pain came back.

Bottomline. I was not mentally or physically prepared for SCMM. I started tapering on the racecourse with 10 km runs at weekend. I stepped on the weight scales and noticed the battery had drained.

One of the things that worked: we now had a large team from our company that was participating in SCMM 2013. This was something I dreamed of, but it had seemed so hard to realize. The positive spirit/ companionship were back.


We collected the bibs on 19th from WTC. Lunch at nearby Kamat hotel. My bib read the number as 703 and category Veteran! I felt older than my age but I met more senior and better timers at the expo. I had joined the veteran group of super performing old (by age) runners. We travelled back to Hotel Manama and had a nice afternoon nap. Evening snacks at Suvidha (The famous Kamat place) and Lassi at Cannon.

We took some time loitering around CST to find a banana vendor for early morning snack.

Woke up at 2:45AM for the natures call. I dreaded the Hyderabad marathon post 32 km in case I did not find any loos when time was pressing. I ate two bananas, a cup of coffee and a slice of bread at Manama canteen. Tied the timing chip to my foot. There was a slight throb in the thumb and I tried to tape it. The feeling was not comfy as the thumb slipped on the smooth floor. I removed the plaster. We were set to go. Nitin negotiated with the Manama manager to buy in an extra hour. We were to vacate the hotel at 1PM.

We walked to Azad maidan at around 5AM. I could see lot of vibram 5 fingered runners; occasionally few barefoot runners as well. The tribe is increasing!

I was in group C. I joined the crowd to give way to the finer runners. 5:40 and the race started. I walked to the start point and then started off with a small jog. The group was slowing me down and I feared treading on my bare feet so I increased pace to needle my way to the front.

It was a cold morning. As cold as Mumbai can permit. I started looking for a cubicle to relieve the bladder. The night watch at Oberoi was pleading the runners to not use the sea side and there was a booth ahead. It was another 2 kms and I found a public place. The first time I joined a queue of men in front of a “Ladies toilet” and my bare feet entered the yucky place.

The run along the Churney road was easy and the small “dreaded” flyover was easy. I started to see half marathoners on the other side of the road. I ran along the sea link to meet two other bare foot runners. We had a common view. Barefoot always attracts attention and barefoot runners often do not feel heroic about it. It’s the runners with boots that astound us with their stifled and hot feet with added weight.

I crossed the 20km point at Bandra. Another cubicle and I rushed to empty my bladder again. I was overhydrated. The 25 km point was no big deal. But after this I had developed some pressure and it was not the bladder this time. No cubicles. Crowd cheers, “ You are doing well Mr Veteran.”

Cadbury bars appear..Almonds /raisins/ dates..Why do Mumbaikars spend so much for the marathon crowd. They are not watching. The crowd on the side is a part of the marathon.
I should do the same for my city?

A small girl chirps, “ Look that man does not even have slippers.”

“Cheer up Mr 703.” Mumbai crowd is very good at cheering! Point 28km. The pressure is now causing pain and I must find a loo. Ahh..There is one between 28 km and 29 km

Split@27 Km 02:53:45 at an Avg Speed of 9.32 Kmph

Mr 703 enters the loo . Barefoot adventure. The scene is not to be spoken abt for the readers benefit.

I come out and run to the 28 km line.

Split@28 Km 03:02:55 at an Avg Speed of 9.18 Kmph

I was still in positive mode as Neepa who headed the 5 hr bus is still long way from me. Sub 5 is the target! The route is known and I continued to run fine till the flyover near churney road.

Everyone around me is walking. I pulled out the energy gel pack and squeezed the coffee like fluid. It helps! I start off into a slow jog. As I descend the slope I look back. Neepa is right behind me. Oh no! I cannot do a negative split on slope as my ankles and knees rebel. I try to take it easy.

Neepa overtakes followed by sub 5 team. I start my run/walk/run.

The Navy band is playing at the Choupatty sea shore. The road is not so good and I have some pain due to the unevenness. The road is not hot and that is a blessing. I do feet stretches to relieve taut muscles. An helicopter roars and I start running again. I take the left to CST station. I am still on the walk/ jog schedule. A bit of lost hope at completing sub 5 as the truth sinks into me during last 3 kms retardation. I do not feel like to challenge my feet as I need their help when I get old. “No Injury” is the goal.

As I run towards the finish line someone in the crowd cheers “Run Parag”. It must be a mate from Pune running. I ran through the photographers into the maidan to pick up my goody bag and finish medal.

As I SMS my time to Sujit (its been a tradition, as he always finishes before). Then I join him in the shade. Sujit has made a great progress as he completed it in 4:25 his PB.

We see an old sardar, none other than Fauja singh. Young marathoners have their arms around him. To me he does not look 110 but around 80+.

The source of my inspiration is from the older mature runners beyond my age.

-Mr Veteran (703)

Thursday, January 3, 2013

A change for good


It was 7PM when the door bell rang.

“Prasad! Its good to see you. What is up?”

“ Let’s go to Sinhagad. I am carrying two hammocks.”, chirped Prasad. “Its fun to do something unplanned.”

I was surprised as Prasad, never divulges the full intent in first talk. He had a grand plan.

“ Do you have a good torch?”

I fished out one from my drawer. “ But I haven’t eaten anything.”

Prasad, “Let’s eat at some place on the route and then climb.”

Over a Mutton Biryani, Prasad started to divulge the plan.

Then Prasad began, “You remember the Khan kada wall. Sanjay and Surendra have put a bolting station.”

I knew that they had opened a new route, but I had yet to see where the hammocks would come in. Prasad explained, “We shall descend the wall from the top. At 70-80 feet from the top of the cliff, there is a bolt station. We shall clip the hammocks to the bolts crawl inside and go to sleep.”

I marveled at the idea. Firstly, it meant rappelling the face in total darkness. Swinging and attaching the hammocks to the bolts and spending a cold night with around ~80+ feet below us.

It was a crazy idea, but expected, from my old friend. Though we always talked about our expeditions and climbs, we had not ever climbed together. He had drifted away with a group of excellent climbers and had bagged many peaks such as first ascents of Mt Matri and Mt Panwali Dwar. He and Surendra had narrowly escaped an avalanche on Mt Shivling.

We biked to Sinhagad. Prasad climbed to the top of the cliff with the gear and started the descnt. I was guiding him with my torch. With couple of swings he setup the first hammock and then the second one. I tied the torch to the end of the rope as he pulled it to his hammock.

I started my descent. I wore a Jummar for self anchor and the seat harness. The plan was to keep hooked to the top rope and wear the harnesses throughout the night. The Hammock had a tightly closed lip and I shoved my Leg inside to open it wider. I snuggled in and soon found the discomfort. My shoulders were crunched inside the boat shaped canvas against the rock wall.

Prasad was smiling at me from the other hammock. He was in a very jolly mood. I decided to digest the situation for the night. I remembered that I had decided to have a pee, but had forgotten in a hurry. I buried the thought. It was 9PM. We started singing in chorus and soon I forgot the drop underneath. We started talking about our old treks, laughing at the crazy situations we had been.

“Prasad! How about some music?”

“ You carried a tape recorder? That’s great!”

I pulled out a cassette from my knapsack and the night went alive with the music, with choral support from Prasad and me.

It was almost 1AM when a booze party picked up in a shed near the carpark area. Booze is prohibited on the fort and we decided to create some disturbance. I shone my torch on to the group and hooted. The people were very surprised to see the light from middle of the cliff but could not make out the hammocks.

At 3AM, to make things challenging, Mother Nature decided to provide us with a cold shower. We were clamped to the face, but we had a tiny protection from the overhang above. Drenched and unable to move in the hammocks we waited for the first ray of the sun.

We rappelled down after removing the hammocks and the gear. It was a great night. My fear for the face was killed.


Prasad asked, “Would you be willing to join the Kamet Expedition? Let’s go for the meeting and you can decide. Balya has agreed to lead.”

I thought about the circumstances. This was a siege style expedition contrary to my experience. I would be a misfit in the team. But I had the opportunity to climb with Good climbers from Mumbai and Pune. I would also get a chance to be with my hostel mates, Surendra and Moreshwar. I did not see any chances of teaming with alpine style climbers. I had run out of choices and this was a good offer.



Kamet experience would be the closest to a mountain of 8000 mt and I decided to waive aside my scruples for Siege style climbing.