I RUN

It has taken greater amount of persuasion to stake my claim to the title of this post – I Run.

I find the title collective and cohesive. Some might find it coy and coercive. Yet I would stick to it; irrespective of the opinions someone might develop about me.

Coming back to the title and the activity that I associate with, I run. But I don’t run to fulfill a need or a condition, I run to address the stubbornness of immobility, I’ve had developed a habit of occasionally succumbing to. I had a fair idea that I will have to let go that habit someday. Having said that, I knew it was not going to be that easy like it seemed to be as the first and last impression. If I am asked about the last best memory of running, it would be the span of three months between October and December of 2014.

Between October and December 2014, I woke up every day to the enthusiastic idea of I RUN EVERY DAY. The idea was infectious. The idea kept my mind and muscles constantly sterilized. The idea was so strong in its form and practice, I heeded to the alarm clock at 5:30 AM every morning, irrespective of the time I might have made it to the bed. But 2015 left the idea weakened. The fitness schedule I had been boasting about and the physique I had developed fueled the erratic imagination of brashness in me. Few months down the line, I migrated to a city and the first ever habit I happened to meet with was BEING LAZY. Habits changed, hobbies changed; thoughts overlapped and somewhere in between I lost the interest in running.

Battle lines were drawn, swords were pulled out but I refused to run. There was no horsepower left in my feet to run. Days passed, months diminished and I rolled back to the city I have called home. Perceptions around me had changed. I had become arrogant but, the paunch had exceeded every limit of being a spoilt brat, which kept feeding on the fact that someday I might run. This someday overpowered every imagination, bullied my enthusiasm and I became a slave of lethargy.

But procrastination is a short lived hobby. The absence of passion in this hobby finally made it wear out. My progress continued being slow. Another year passed and I allowed myself to continue being snobbish. The first sunrise of 2017 had me looking at myself in the mirror. Day in, day out, I was sure of not being me. A pair of sports shoes, a pair of jogging t-shirts, color matched socks and shorts; everything seemed insignificant and at the same time seemed to be in waiting for me to begin. By the mid of January 2017, I knew I had to make it sure that I RUN.

February 2017 made its debut. I sought advice from a friend, who was already passionate about running. I knew there was no more time to waste and I had to wake up the next morning to ensure that I RUN. Besides running, I adapted myself to a diet plan (much unheard of me, but still). This diet plan was my introduction to a new kind of stubbornness. I had to wake up to the idea of growing fit again. And thus came the cold morning of a fading urban winter. I was on the ground, standing right in the middle; stretching my muscles and flexing my feet to put myself to test again and to write a post with a title as apt as I RUN.

To be continued…

-Virtuous Vociferous  

THE FIRST HIGH FIVE DAYS OF 2014

Writing never ages. Even if it seems to be ageing, it seems to get better like well seasoned wine. The layers of experiences or the series of events, keep adding on to the passion or rather habit of writing. It was with the first fresh sunrise of January 1, 2014 that I decided to start writing for myself. But that should not be confused of being my resolution for the year 2014. As announced publicly, my resolution for 2014 will continue to remain a secret till the time I realize it. Writing pumps undefeatable confidence in my faith in life and dreams. Writing either adds wings to my desires or takes them to an all new high. And thereby began 2014.

On the first day of 2014, I woke up at ease. No matter how hard I had tried to get a new pair of sports shoes to go jogging from the first ever morning of the New Year, my luck had different plans for me.  A brand new pair of sports shoes did catch my attention at a local Bata outlet. The single sexy shade of grey gave out a very silvery feel to my determination to slip my feet into them at the soonest. Belonging to the POWER clan of sports shoes, neither did it cost princely nor did it end up setting my pocket ablaze. Alongside mom, I walked out with a broad smile on my face. The next day was going to be amazing. But before the next day arrived, I had different plans to begin with 2014.

I was lucky to have booked three tickets to Chander Pahar (The Mountain of Moon) in advance. This was also my first visit to yet another mall (Phoenix Market City) in an otherwise not so likable suburb (Kurla). As a first impression, the mall engulfed my mediocre imaginations about it. The opinions I held about it stood banished. My apprehensions vanished. Here we were facing the mall; a monster of a mall. We walked towards the seven screens multiplex. After collecting the tickets we treated ourselves to donuts at M.O.D and then spent a good amount of time at Hamleys. Stepping inside we were on a joyride. Mom pointed towards the section that comprised almost all the toy cars, one can think of. At the same time, Mrs.Right busied herself with a flurry of soft toys. And then arrived the time to set out on a cinematic adventure. Chander Pahar turned out to be a Bengali movie with Hollywood finesse. Combining all the elements of edge-of-the-seat adventure tales, Chander Pahar pulled us in. Reviewing it would seem very average. The greatest of greats in Bengali cinema and the best of all the bests from Indian cinema have lauded the formula defying effort. It was nothing less than a Spielberg experience in Indian context. Two hours thirty minutes seeped away. The first ever African Safari, filmed in Bengali carried us to a tough terrain and then rapidly flung us back to the strange experience of being in the maddening surrounds of Mumbai. The first day of the New Year ended with an applauding round of dinner – home cooked Misal Pav (a Maharashtrian delicacy that is still best-served at Mamledar, Thane).

The alarm went off at sharp 6 am on the second day of 2014. The new pair of sports shoes seemed to be waiting anxiously to meet their first ever owner. Slipping my feet into them, I jogged, I skipped, I jumped and I walked. The overall experience was extremely sporty. It was that lovely feeling of having achieved something. What did I achieve? My sports shoes know it better. Work wise everything remained calm. The stage seemed set to welcome the third day.

We forgot attending a wedding of a family friend. But I remembered to get my android phone back. This was for the longest time that it had rested at the forgettable LG Service Center, located at a disinteresting location in one of the oldest alleys of Dadar. The little amount of charge that was left in the battery made the mobile spring back to life. The engineers had done something amazing to it. My LG P970 Optimus Black was breathing again. The software had been upgraded. The internal circuit went through a revamp. Right now I am celebrating the fact that I didn’t have to spend a bomb on acquiring another smartphone. But thanks to the Micromax phone that kept me connected to the world. Happiness made a comeback.

Then arrived the fourth day of 2014. It was not the day but the evening that made it much more special. I met my best friend Nikhil. The 40 km bike ride made us turn into bachelors again. Nikhil is still a bachelor. The crazy bike ride without helmets protecting our heads ended at a lakeside restaurant in Thane. Nikhil and I realized that this was our 20^th year of being friends. To celebrate the moment, we ordered for delicious food. And then began a long round of conversation. From the first day of our college to present day complications and simplicities, we spoke all. And then Nikhil commented – From 1998 I have been waiting for my friend to start writing the book that he had always been talking about. I suggest you start now. Nikhil ignited the long lazy desire to pursue personal writing. He shook the heart that had somewhere mildly stopped responding to the calls of my pen and paper. He made me think again. Before him Mrs.Right has been urging me to make a start. Before her many other friends and well-wishers have been advising me to do so. Maybe the journey of writing has to begin now! But I have been travelling for long. Maybe it is time to stop procrastinating.  

The fifth day being a Sunday could have turned out to be yet another lazy day. But I am still reeling with excitement. I finally succeeded in defying routine. I read, I imagined. I laughed, I smiled. Above all, I opened the long closed gates of my mind to accept and welcome the change that has been trying to keep me inspired and motivated. At the turning point of life, looking ahead to the rest of 360 days of 2014!

-vociferous