Bhaagta Bharat

           “What’s happened? Why’s everyone running? Away from what?” I asked Sri Husband. People dressed in smart short-shorts or in baggy track-pants and vests covered with colourful aprons, were moving arms and elbows in rhythmic sync with speeding strides. A sense of urgency surrounded them. Traffic was halted. Bystanders lined the pavements, watching curiously. Some held up placards or offered the sprinters a cheerful “well done” or “keep it up”. Even Sri Husband craned neck and waved to no one in particular.

I said to Sri Husband, “What’s ‘well done’ about? The sweating? Keep what up? The puffing?” The runners had chins stuck out, jaws stretched showing clenched teeth, muscles tense, like thieves escaping from the possible clutches of pursuers. None had curvy abdomens or a gram of flabby flesh.

“They’re doing a 42 km marathon,” Sri Husband sternly muttered in an undertone like it was a secret meant only for my ears.

I said, “They remind me of office-goers trying to catch a train (in Mumbai) or ferry (in Goa).” He mumbled something. His expression indicated it wasn’t anything nice. With all that merriment around, I had to strain to hear him. He always shouts when he shouldn’t; also murmurs when he shouldn’t.

Then he explained in the same low volume (with me asking “what-what?” every couple of seconds) that the laggards in the fancy-dress costumes were participating in the shorter 5 km Dream Run. Some of these wore gold, purple or pink wigs. Others sported green polka-dotted or orange bold-striped attires, declaring their support to those afflicted by cancer/ deafness/ ulcerative colitis/ blindness/ spasticity, Alzheimer’s/ autism/ or some cause close to their heart.  Donors paid money to the charity on whose behalf a runner completed a promised lap or race.

“All that running must make people hungry,” I said. “The hungrier they get the more food they will buy. Good for the farmers.” Sri Husband looked the other way, indicative of Bad Mood.

To distract him, I pointed to the slogans printed on the t-shirts people were wearing:

“Running is cheaper than plastic surgery.”

 "If found on ground, please drag to finish line."

“Anyone can run 100 meters. It’s the next 2900, 3900, or 4900 that count!”

“Comrades in sweat.”

“If you wanna catch me you’ve gotta be fast, if you wanna stay with me you’ve got to be good, if you wanna pass me you’ve got to be kidding!”

The mean one: “My mascara runs faster than you do.”

The spot-on ones: “Obsessed is just a word the lazy use to describe the dedicated.” “I may not be faster than a bullet, but bullets don’t go 42 kilometers.”

Brief marathon-t-shirt philosophy: “The truth is that you can go faster. Truth hurts.”

That conversation happened years ago.

Today, running for charity is a bigger deal. Why people don’t just write out cheques or devote some hours per week to serve the under-privileged or the suffering? The haves practice long-distance running through the year at unearthly pre-dawn hours, timers tucked into pockets or strung through straps hung around their necks. They improve stamina/ speed/ strength/ lung-size/ pulse-rate and compete in small, local events before jogging their way to the big ones.

Our doctor, our structural-design engineer, ex-colleagues, old (well, literally) mates from school and college, nephew’s friends, everyone’s running these days, committed to participation in some marathon or other.

There’s money to be made. Towns small and big have jumped into the fray: Nashik, Coimbatore, Thanjavuru, Ambdavad, Panchakula, Bengaluru, Kashipur, Jaipur, even suburbs like Kharghar. Noida has a ‘Fastest Running and Living Half-Marathon’, whatever that means.

Other marathons in India: Pearl Valley Trail. Xwarrior race. Nise Gel(?). Desi Warrior Battlefield Gurgaon. Who invents these names?

There are more: Fitrathon, Chamundi Chase, Rotary Borivali Daud, Go Heritage Hampi, Purna Urban Stampede (ouch!), Uninor Rotathon, Little Dart Fundraiser, Contours Women, Pinkathon, Investathon, Devil’s Circuit, a Midnight Marathon and a Winner in You mini-marathon.

Some marathons are mere ‘runs’: The Adi Pro Gurgaon, the T-Plus, Tirumala Habitat Mulund, Republic Day, Run in the Sun, and the Run for Safe Pune and Run the Rann.

Novelty attracts. Now there are Tower Runs where people race up staircases of skyscrapers. Cyclathons, swimathons (apparently the first in India was in Goa), duathlons (don’t know what this is) and triathlons, too.

No doubt at all:- India’s on the move. Her poor are running to keep the fire burning. Her rich are wearing out expensive, well-chosen soles.

Swatchch or not, it’s Bhaagtaa Bharat alright.

Feedback: sheelajaywant@yahoo.co.in