Lost property

 Last weekend we planned to go to a near by park to cycle. The bike track was closed for maintenance for the last few months and we wanted to go check if they had reopened it. Per usual, loading the cycles is the last activity n after the other 2 put their bikes on the back of the car, I could not find my cycle.Prash goes "What do u mean u can't find your cycle...... It's not sunglasses or keys or a scarf!  It's a big 2 wheeled cycle ! Did u check in the 3rd room? Did u check the car port? Oh hang on that's where it was... I had to do something about the tube from last time. I am sure I didn't fix it yet... It was here last week when I was putting the clothes out to dry. " Then we looked frantically around n concluded it must have been stolen. But bizarre that the lawn mower, running shoes n a million other relatively expensive things that live in the car port were intact. It was upsetting for a minute but soon turned comical that we had not even noticed it for weeks! Deja Vu from 22 years ago in the parents house. The brother n I shared our first big cycle. He was upset about having to ride a bike without the bar n soon gave up. I have never taken a liking to cycling n soon the cycle was parked in the open garage, gathering dust. A few months later, mom decided to donate the cycle to a cousin n went looking for it n no point for guessing.. The cycle was gone! We didn't even know when the cycle was stolen. To this day, when someone talks of cycles, we laugh recollecting that story. Prash was upset that someone actually trespassed to our car port. K, on the other hand, being my problem-solver-consoler-all-in-1 was coming up with plans. She just does not like it when either of us esp me is upset/ sad. I can't cry even while watching movies... She just has to look at my watery eyes n will start inconsolable sobbing saying "Amma pls don't cry... Something happens in my ribcage Amma ...I can't see tears in ur eyes." Of late, whenever there is a crisis-type situation at home, she comes up with ideas to fix/solve. So this time for the lost-cycle incident:
K: Amma, ok I can help u find ur bike. Do u have a picture of u with the cycle?
Me: yes... am sure I can find one
K: ok, get 50 printouts of it tomorrow....I will go n stick on mail boxes of some houses saying lost-property.
Me(overwhelmed with her concern to help) : thanks Kane puttu that's so nice of u
K:(with that thinking eyes of hers) wait... We will need to make 1 change though...u need to cut urself out of the photo first before u get the printout ok?
Me(happy thinking stranger danger lessons r working): y ?
K: bcoz u r not lost property .....u r right here ...

The joys of being a parent cannot be explained. It can only be experienced. This stage of our lives when she is no more a physically energy draining bundle but not distant from us yet, is wonderful. We r so glad to be sharing this phase together. Initial 3 years were mostly catering to the basics, wondering about milestones , sleepless nights, visits to ED at ungodly hours. That was also the most heart warming/delicate baby phase. Her smell, her helplessness and her first steps.....wish there was a way I could bottle it up someplace forever other than in distant memory. The next 3 were understanding her needs n communicating ours. It was a satisfying phase but the last year has been phenomenal. K is growing up to be a lovely girl. a bookworm that goes to bed and wakes up with one in her hand. Her dreamy eyes that observe every little thing and how she gets removed from reality so fast.We love her company and enjoy doing everything together. She brings in that innocence which only a child's mind is capable of into every activity.
Bcoz a child can never follow what u say but only follow what u do, we consciously work on improving ourselves in areas that matter to us, be it social behaviour, empathy, exploring outdoors, cooking, exercising, upbeat and positive approach to life...the better choices we make, she follows us and improvises even and that inspires us to do better as individuals.
I have no idea of how our lives would have been without her and I certainly dont know if this is parenting, but we seem to be doing alright.It is definitely a dazzling joyride for now. Till the teen hell breaks loose i suppose...love how she is now... a little bit of me, a little bit of him and a whole lot of her.... slow down time please! 

Full marathon-Mumbai

And finally I crossed the finish line ... with a smile beaming across my face, with a pain shooting from right hip to toe, with a toe nail hurting on my left foot. It was a smile that was impossible 10 min before that moment, It was a pain that did not stop my legs and it was a black toe nail that eventually fell off. The euphoria though was uncontainable n I wanted to cry but my body had no more salt to produce tears! The course was etched in my mind from the awesome video and the pep talk Amod gave me the previous night was fresh... Gently jog the first 4 k till u get onto Marine drive n then go steady... I started tracking pace after the 5th k n had only the next km on my mind. The early morning breeze I was looking for at the sea front was not there but the eclectic atmosphere of family n friends screaming life into the runners' legs was. In my practice runs, I ran alone with only my thoughts for company and at around the 3rd km, on most days, I seemed to run involuntarily as if on cruise control. Here though, I kept loosing focus... could not contain smiling at the energy of the crowd, looking at the side attractions on the course etc till the 8th Km . From the 9th to the 28th km running with L or with her in a visible distance helped. The Bandra-Worli sea link bridge was such an amazing stretch to run on..the point where the bridge hangs from, with all the cables moving up in artistic geometry was worth marveling at.Both from engineering a bridge over the sea to just simply how beautiful it looked. It was also very inspiring to see ppl from different places, ages and abilities all pushing and encouraging one another to achieve this herculean feat. I dont normally go beyond the hi there, good job or keep at it or a random passing comment about the scenery around when running at organized runs in NZ. But not on this course. Everyone seemed excited to share a piece of their training story/life..particularly remember chatting to a father-son duo from Surat who were so upbeat about the training they did and how its their first FM together etc. I took off after a couple of kms of social banter matching my rhythm to the bhangra beats down the bridge. The children from the slums that were super excited to hi-5 all the runners :) these small things that make u smile when its hot n humid n burning u inside out! The plan was to meet Prash at 32 km. I was feeling really good and was on track to do so in less than than 4 hours, slightly ahead of my target time. Running on the marine drive, seeing Haaji Ali majestically engulfed in sea mist was a beautiful sight. My right hip started feeling uncomfortable at that point and the pain that got worse with each step took over my thoughts and concentration. The only hope that got me going was that Prash will be there at 32 ..and somehow in my mind he was to lead from there as if I would just pass the baton onto him and do nothing else. When I crossed the 32 mark and dint see Prash, the angst was inexpiable. I was about to cry when I saw the aid station at 32.3 km and that is where he was. I stopped for the first time and told him my right hip was going to give n I cannot run anymore. Given his sports medicine experience and first aid course and just general do it or die attitude, he sprayed  what-felt-like a can of volini and stuffed an ice pack over my right hip n poured a bottle of water over my head and said 'come lets do this. U r nearly there, just another 10k.' I had to take a moment to talk to myself..remind myself of all the physical and mental effort that not just I but Prash and K had put in in the months leading upto the D-day and pat my back to have come this far and pray trust my body to get me across the finish line. After that I lost a lot of time and momentum stopping every Km to stretch my right leg, readjust posture and re-start.Peddar road uphill was such fun! thanks to training on the uphill/downhill roads in the valley around my home, uphills were my strength. So I ran up the incline and started feeling confident again. The crowd! boy oh boy... every apartment had a bunch of ppl holding out trays of oranges dipped in salt, salt biscuits, spraying volini and cheering their lungs out. Awesome really. The atmosphere in Mumbai, take a bow. The last couple of kms were soo crowded and random ppl shouting out 'come on Deepa u got this' , the blaring sound from the music bands to distract u from the pain/exhaustion were helpful. I always aim to finish my runs strong. Smiling as I feel the joy of having come to the finish line of something I started. This was no exception. The last 500 m, I sprinted (well relatively ) and crashed onto Prash, Dil and Laksh. That moment of overwhelming emotion.. it was unbelievable and surreal..I felt joy, I felt pain, I felt proud, I felt invincible and I felt incredibly happy. A full effing marathon! 5:48 was not great timing but we'll worry about that another time, for I know how different the weather, the course and everything else in my training was. I know how blocked my nose was, how stuffed my throat was, how my plan to acclimatize had not worked out in the last 2 weeks before the run. Basically I had every excuse to not run that day but only one excuse to not give up..it was my dream ... a dream that woke me up every single morning since Sept come rain or shine to train. A dream it was no more :) It was not easy but it was an awesome experience. An exercise for the body and mind to overcome the limitations, these notional barriers of what one can and cant do.... and a sense of breaking free truly. Now I know what they talk about when they talk about running a full marathon.:)
Post run and rejoicing and stretching and cooling, we headed to The Bar Stock exchange for much needed beer hydration. Such a cool take on BSE: a super concept. The more a brew is in demand the more the crowd pays per pint... Was much fun to watch the price of beer change by the second like stock prices...The food was tasty too.

Catching up with family is soo underrated. Eating the much touted Mumbai fast/street food was worth the walk limp with uncle and his wife that night. Pav Bhaji, Aloo paratha, Kulfi.. bring on the carbs to refuel! :) The next day was sight seeing and one in which I was to do the recovery walk. My whole body was still warm n flushed red from the run. It took nearly 24 hours to not feel like my palms were 5 degrees warmer than usual. Boat ride from Gateway of India (shouldn't it be Gateway To?) was touristy. The boat went far out into the Arabian sea. Feeling the pleasant breeze over sea water we watched the birds come fearlessly close to the boats in amusement. At first I assumed it was the food the visitors on the boat threw at the birds but then realized the fish that got exposed to the surface because of the moving boat could be the reason they flocked around the boats. To add mileage to my recovery walk, we decided to walk down to Colaba and have a meal at the famous Cafe Mondegar. The beer, noodles, fusion-rice and paneer dint disappoint us. The quirky caricature-y art on the walls and unique menu-on-the-table added to the vibrant retro ambiance of the place. We walked around on Colaba causeway through the bargain-as-much-as-u-can streets. Prash was stupefied when I made an offer of 400 Re for a pair of culottes and a top...one that the seller quoted 900 Re for. What was more was the seller agreed without a counter ! now it was my turn to think even 400 was too much! The pain of bargain buys.. I decided I can never be satisfied with the price I pay here no matter how less/more and passed up on shopping after buying a customary pair of ethnic footwear. We were so full from the lunch that we had to give having a dessert/coffee at Cafe Leopold a miss. Walking on Colaba causeway and across Cafe Leopold reminded me soo much of Shantaram. A part of us wished to walk along Kamathipura roads that were so close to the place we stayed at and take the Mumbai local from CST but we were short on time, low on physical prowess needed to plough one's way through the crowd and just generally a bit intolerant toward heat and dirt. So we decided to go see Haji Ali atleast. That one had made it to my list from the previous day's run. The driver was surprised and did his best to discourage us, but hey! whats on my list is on my list. So off we went navigating through the hawkers  that tried to sell us turbans, topis and towels so my womb may become fertile, so we may have all the riches etc etc these belief-based-hope-sellers I tell u. We walked bravely past the first gory beggars set. Next we exchanged hmm-how-u-feeling-about-this looks and by the end of 100 m on that pier we gave up. Humanity have some courtesy! It was heart tugging.. the women, children, the paraplegic... begging, singing, chanting. The carcass of a what-i-reckon a dolphin and what-prash-thought a baby orca... anyhoo a delphinid carcass was what it took to put us off totally from going any further. Should have listened to the driver and  let it be a beautiful-from-a-distance-dargah. Isnt that true for many things in life? the seducing green grass on the other side... best left as that! We walked back n sat on the parapet wall along the marine drive staring at the tetrapod rocks trying to digest everything we experienced so far. On the other side of the Marine drive were the most expensive residences and beautiful looking art deco type buildings. whattey contrast! Along the shore for about 3 or 4 Km from Colaba to Chowpatty is this wall on which sat dreamy eyed.. hand holding.. college going adolescents... So full of hope. The sunset: a blazing red ball dunking into the sea at the horizon, coloring the sky pink was charming. We then drove all the 42 km of the course and it felt surreal... the vibe so different today and the distance mind-boggling. Still in disbelief that I actually managed to run it all. We drove back in traffic passing through the suburbs whose names I knew from the movies/books. The highways interconnecting ends of the city were impressive. Dinner at the tastefully done cafe at the uncle's workplace campus was satisfying. We left Mumbai thoroughly enchanted by its character. City of contrasts, of hopes and a true representation of India.

Training:
Where: on roads around home, browns bay, mission bay, Takapuna from Oct to Dec. Cubbon park n kanteerava stadium(Bangalore) a couple of weeks. Weekly group weight classes at the gym, hot yoga once in 2/3 weeks.
Guidance: Radstrong coaching for weekly tempo, split, steady long run plans.
Nutrition: being a vegetarian, I was worried of under-fueling/ over using muscles etc n after much reading about, had my own eat n fuel plan that worked for me. On the course : well organized hydration n aid stations+ ingested 4 gel packets.
Support/ encouragement: logging training on a couple of group chats- It's encouraging to be in a group that is doing crazy things like u r at times:)
Complete involvement n commitment from immediate family- This is essential for the days when 'is this possible?', ' y am I doing this?' type of soul searching questions. The answers though help peel the proverbial onion to understating what one is. 


Recovery:
After a night's sleep/ complete rest, was able to do the recovery walk. Took nearly 24 hours to feel normal in the body i.e stop feeling existence of random joints, get over adrenaline rush, feel normal body temp etc. After 2 days was completely OK n could have run 5k. I dint n life took over washing the run with something else to occupy us is another story.

Wowza moment on the course : Watching the elite African running pack.... This was around the time when we slow- guys were busy hi-5ing slum kids. The elites whizzed past us. Like gazelles really. Do they even touch the feet to the ground? It looked like they just flew over the road. Such lean human- machines. Was a touching n beautiful sight that!

Separation

It's 4 am and I cant sleep. For the last 6 weeks an alarm used to go off at this time every single morning. A neighbor aunt would wake up at this time n on some lucky days start rearranging furniture at that auspicious hour. It annoyed the life out of me. How could anyone be so inconsiderate? I was sure she woke up ppl in half a dozen houses around hers. They could be school going kids... Infants ... Tired parents .... Sick n insomniac old ppl that might have fallen asleep an hour before. I complianed to the mother that she should go speak to the said lady about it. Mom dismissed me saying its become a habit n does not bother her or anyone else. Now I think it's true. Today I miss that bloody alarm. In the silence of my home where i can hear the deep breaths of my daughter sleeping in the next room, I miss that noise... prayers from a mosque at 5, milkman's cycle at 5:30, sound of newspaper thrown into the gate at 6. Heck I dint need a clock ! I had so gotten used to these ridiculous things that are so removed from my life here that if I close my eyes I can still hear them, but I can't smell the filter coffee wafting through the house. The smell that signified that mom is up n will come find me soon.This week sleep will elude me, dreams will be disturbed n I will be restless.  The end of a vacation should have felt happier but this was to visit home n as always leaves me in this state. Makes me happy n sad at the same time.I am glad that is not part of my daily life anymore but I am sad that ppl I care deeply about endure it everyday. 

Leaving mom n dad back is the most painful thing. This near physical heart pinching feeling of hurt n pain ... The tears n emotions that I just can't stop. It sometimes makes me hate myself for the fact that I make this choice every single time. To stay this far away from them. I thought I will rationalize it this time .. after all I am here to parent my own lil one better.... So I will don the hat of a (strictly in-my-judgement) responsible/caring parent and not think of myself as their indifferent-child. Nope dint work. Their warmth, their effort, their forgiveness, their love and their care for me... these always come before their needs. May be it would be easier if they were a bit hard on me...A bit more judgmental n rude towards me... A bit more rigid n ununderstanding. But with each passing year I relate to them in certain aspects more n more. This separation makes me wonder why we make such discomforting choices. May be separations are what makes us value relationships more? I also know that this discomfort will soon transform into hope of next visit. The plans for which will start very soon given my over enthusiastic family's grand plans. 

My travelogues are mostly about cataloging the trivial details of my n the family's experiences. This time a part of it is going to be about the death/separation of an uncle. These named relationships... These ppl that are somehow connected to me by the threads neither of chose to but hold the ends of... When one let's go of their end, it automatically grounds the others.Dealing with death is humbling. Even the most hopeful n ambitious amongst us feel let down by life. The last time death of a family member affected me was that of the mother in law's... Many years ago... My naive self probably did not comprehend the sadness  of that conclusive final separation. The one that makes the living partner wish they had had 1 last nice cup of tea together or gone on that pilgrimage together or had one less fight. The plight of the one that gets left behind... Her cries, her disappointments, her wishes that now forever shall remain unfulfilled. How does anyone accept that? Such an unannounced and unexpected departure? Makes me believe there is perhaps a God in there somewhere, that gives the strength to keep one sane n then he creates time...'time' that magically seems to heal every grief. The other thing that I had not paid much attention to was the process of forced mourning rituals, as if there was a need to run a knife through an open and already bleeding wound. The obligations of living in a society. The craziness of certain actions.... The rules that probably have lost significance in current times but cause gut wrenching distress nevertheless. And here I was, thinking that the rituals to mark the beginning of a marriage were tedious!