Illustration: Shyam G Menon

It was weekend in Delhi.

The cafes of Khan Market were still prepping for the day.

The one we were in was quiet.

We were the day’s first customers or nearly so.

The man before me was athletic.

He had an easy smile that hid an underlying intensity, which surfaced when he spoke about his life lost to fate and circumstance till step by step it gained wings.

I pulled out my notebook; then took a sip from the cup of cappuccino.

The story commenced at Baoli in Baghpat, roughly 50km away from Delhi.

Arun was born the second of eight children – four brothers, four sisters. His father Jaswant Singh was a teacher at the government owned Central School. From class two onward, every year Arun succumbed to malaria. The annual bout of malaria would cease only when he reached his penultimate year of graduation in college. He grew up a weak child.

He was a small person, typically seated up front in class and not robust to play any games. “ My son who is now in the eighth standard weighs 40 kilos. In class nine, I weighed 26 kilos,’’ Arun said. In class nine, another defining spate of illness started. Arun got an infection of the parotid gland, a major salivary gland located between the mouth and the ear. Its cure was a daily injection repeated 90 days.

The course got over. But the infection continued. One side of the boy’s face was swollen, disfiguring his appearance. Around the time of class nine exams, he was taken to the larger hospital in Meerut. There, the doctors identified it as parotid tumour.

After the exams, he was hospitalized for surgery. The tumour was removed. Within four months the tumour returned. In the winter of class ten, a second operation was scheduled and the tumour removed for a second time. Ahead of class ten exams, the tumour returned again. After the exams, Arun had his third surgery to remove the tumour.

The family had thought of sending him for a diploma course in some trade. Arun cleared his tenth exams with decent scores and secured admission for studying commerce. His father, having moved to Delhi wished for the family to join him. But Arun’s tumour flared up for a fourth time. The boy was back to seeing doctors.

Arun Bhardwaj (Photo: courtesy Emma Rodling & Johan Wessel)

The prime cause of tension in the recurrent tumour was – all the surgeries so far and the ones to be done were close to facial nerves. A spate of extended hospitalization began. In Delhi, most of Arun’s eleventh standard days were spent hospitalized. “ I used to write to the hospital authorities seeking leave to attend important days in school,’’ he said outlining his predicament. Studies suffered. After his class eleven exams, the fourth operation to eliminate the tumour took place. This time, the incision was bigger, needing 14 stitches to close. “ The doctors said they burnt the whole area – that was the wording they used,’’ Arun said. In any case, the tumour hasn’t returned since.

By class twelve, the young man had a body weight of 37 kilos. He joined college to graduate in commerce; a three year-program in the second year of which, the last of those annual malaria bouts happened. With that, Arun’s history of being consistently sick died out.

It was in the second year of his degree course that Arun started exercising, the first dose of physical exercise for a body locked up since childhood in illness. Arun remembers those first few days of physical workout. He was so weak that he could do no more than two push-ups at a time. So he kept the sets small and slowly, determinedly cranked up the repetitions. In less than a year, he was doing impressive numbers.

Arun’s father taught geography at school. Income was limited. Tuitions can augment teacher’s salary. But who seeks tuitions for geography? It wasn’t a subject anyone sought tuitions in. To contain expense on food and to ensure supply of good quality milk, the family kept cows and buffalos. After they bought a plot of land in Ghaziabad, Arun’s family moved that side, staying there from 1989-2003. In 2003, they moved to Dwarka.

While in college, Arun got a taste of wrestling. During his Ghaziabad years, he was also associated with a training centre for wrestlers – an akhara. “ Wrestling wasn’t for me,’’ he said. However he appreciated the training. Meanwhile a dose of football resulted in a wrist injury that capped his ability to bench press. Nevertheless these were the turnaround years. “ Since 1988, I haven’t been sick in a significant way,’’ Arun said.

In June 1992, Arun joined the Planning Commission as a clerk. There, he got acquainted with two possibilities in sport – athletics, which featured in the inter-ministry sports meet, and chess. He started running to prepare for the athletics meet, also seeing in it a potential alternative avenue for career progression. The maximum distance raced at the meet was 10,000m (10km). Arun started training with 5km runs, slowly raising it to 10km. In chess too, he prepared well, borrowing and reading books on chess from the Russian Cultural Centre. Soon, he was playing chess locally at competitive level.

At the inter-ministry athletics meet, he finished third in the 10km run. He set his eyes on the upcoming Delhi marathon. But in the run up to the event, he got injured. This was how things were in 1997 when Arun got married.

His wife Sangeeta was a school teacher posted at Rewari. Although he wasn’t running much around this time, Arun used to read about running. The couple named their first born – a daughter – Zola, after Zola Budd the famous South African middle and long distance runner. After naming his daughter, Arun wrote to the South African legend; she replied.

Arun at the George Archer Six Day Race in South Africa (Photo: courtesy Emma Rodling & Johan Wessel)

It was now noon.

The cafe had come to life.

Three men, big of purse and body discussed business at a nearby table.

Elsewhere in the cafe, youngsters talked loudly marking their presence in freedom as only those new to freedom do.

Few things express freedom as well as running does.

Little Zola (she has since been joined by siblings Sofia and Yiannis) was six months old, when the running bug bit her father again. Arun heard of talk in his village about a running race within the annual pilgrimage called Kavad Yatra or Kanwar Yatra, carrying water from the river Ganga to the Pura Mahadev temple in Baghpat. The Yatra, once restricted to a season is nowadays year round and typically features pilgrims carrying water from Gaumukh, Gangotri and Hardwar all the way back to Shiva temples in their home towns and villages. Number of devotees added up, this is one of the biggest pilgrimages in the subcontinent.

The idea of running the distance from Hardwar to Baghpat – slightly less than 180km – attracted Arun. Knowing preparation would be required he set his eyes on the June 2000 Kavad, a year away. He trained, running every weekend a half marathon from Baghpat to Ram Park in Ghaziabad. When at Rewari, he ran at the local stadium. In Delhi, during lunch time in office, he ran on Rajpath, that broad straight line of a road known nationwide as venue for the annual Republic Day parade.

June 28, 2000.

At 8AM, Arun started running from Hardwar. In his hand he held a small bottle of water from the Ganga. On his T-shirt was written ` Zola.’ He had bought a pair of used running shoes costing Rs 150, for the race. As backup, he had a pair of Goldstar shoes, made in Nepal and trusted in the hills. At hand was a new Walkman, just in case he required music to egg him on. Twenty three hours and 25 minutes after he commenced running from Hardwar, Arun stood on the first step of the Pura Mahadev temple in Baghpat. He was the fastest runner in the race. Not only that, from 33km as his previous longest run (done while training), Arun Bhardwaj had just completed his first ultra marathon.

Today Arun Bhardwaj is India’s best known ultra marathon runner.

His accomplishments since that run in the Kavad Yatra are many.

From the George Archer Six Day Race in South Africa (Photo: courtesy Emma Rodling & Johan Wessel)

In 2000, Arun had just got friendly with the new technology called Internet. After the Hardwar-Baghpat run, he searched the worldwide web to get an understanding of what 180km (approximately) in less than 24 hours meant. He found that in a 24 hour-running championship in Italy, the third placed runner had done 163km. It was the first indication of where Arun stood and what he could do.

The next year, 2001, Arun ran from Delhi to Jaipur, covering the roughly 270km-distance in a little over 33 hours. In 2002, he went to Taiwan on his first race overseas, a 24 hour-endurance run. It was the first time India was being represented at such a race. Arun ran 138.17km. Arun has since notched up several long distance runs. But a few stand out; they found mention in the story he narrated.

He ran a bunch of six day-races in Australia, Taiwan, USA, South Africa and Denmark. All of them endurance runs, he covered over the six day-period, 492km in Australia, 516km in New York and 520km in Copenhagen. He became the first Asian to complete three six day-races within the time span of a year. In 2004 he ran 501km at a six day-race in Mexico. Later in the same year he did 532.8km at another six day-race in Germany. Then he ran the first marathon of his life in Russia in blistering cold, following it up with 153km covered in the 24 hour-open championship in Russia in 2005. Same year, he did 558km at a six day-race in Australia. In 2006 he ran 521km in a seven day-race on a hilly course in Greece.

In 2010, he ran a six day-endurance race – the George Archer Six Day Race – at Hekpoort in South Africa. How it panned out tells something of Arun’s running. The course was a one kilometre loop. You ran on it for six days, resting whenever you wished but committed to an average of 67km covered per day. Else you will be disqualified. Running without support staff, a vegetarian in predominantly non vegetarian country, Arun’s cachet of food was a bag of fruits (apples, oranges and bananas) and a bottle of honey. He had also stashed in a bottle of water. As the run progressed amid rain, the Race Director, noticing Arun’s predicament in food asked what he could do. Arun sought boiled vegetables. He got that. Then, someone gave him a bottle of energy drink. All this, Arun said, would have hardly met his food requirements for six normal days. But he tapped into something within and kept running on this limited food. At the end of day one, Arun was placed second. He stayed in that position till day five, when he snatched leadership position. On day six, he maintained his lead, ran 106km that day and won the race, the first time – and so far the only time – an Indian won a multi-day race overseas.

Illustration: Shyam G Menon

In the context of Indians running ultra marathons abroad, Arun is known for completing the 2011 Badwater Ultra Marathon in the US in 41.06 hours, finishing 56th in a field of 98 runners. Badwater describes itself as the world’s toughest foot race. According to Wikipedia, its 217km-long course starts 282ft below sea level in the Badwater Basin in California’s Death Valley. It ends at an elevation of 8360ft at Whitney Portal, the trailhead to Mt Whitney. The ultra marathon takes place in mid-July when weather conditions are extreme with temperatures sometimes touching 49 degrees centigrade in the shade. Death Valley is the lowest, driest and hottest area in North America. It also lays claim to the highest air temperature in the world of 56.7 degrees centigrade, reported in July, 1913 (some meteorologists dispute the accuracy of this reading).

Within India, besides the Delhi-Jaipur run, Arun did Delhi-Chandigarh-Delhi (550km in 122.45 hours) and Delhi-Shimla (370km in 74.37 hours). His most ambitious project – completed in 2012 – was running from Kargil at the very north of India to Kanyakumari at the southern tip, via Leh. The distance of 4150km (as measured by the odometer in the support vehicle) was covered in 61 days of steady running, from October 1 to November 30. There was no day in between without running. In other words, a day of comparatively less running qualified to be rest day for this ultra runner running half marathons, marathons and more back to back. Thrice on the Delhi-Kanyakumari stretch, Arun ran over 100km per day.

His last major run before our meet-up in Delhi was a run from Delhi to Chandigarh in April 2015. He covered the distance of 254km in 49.55 hours. The maximum distance he has run so far in 24 hours is 186.4km, recorded at a 2010 event – albeit not official – in Kolkata. The same under ratified circumstances is 177.70km in 2009 in Athens. This is believed to be a South Asian record.

In most of the races (not projects like Kargil-Kanyakumari) he participated in, Arun was alone, without any support crew. His choice of races and runs also reflect passage through a variety of conditions. Between Badwater in the US, running in Russia and the Kargil-Kanyakumari run in India, he would have for example, tasted what it is like to run in hot, cold, high altitude and humid conditions.

An article in The Hindu written when Arun passed through Delhi en route to Kanyakumari, has him mentioning a run from Arunachal Pradesh to Gujarat and another along the Golden Quadrilateral among projects he would love to do. I asked Arun what his future plans are.

“ Before the age of 50, I would like to cross 500 miles in six days,’’ he said. That is 800km. Other goals on the wish list were – cross 300 miles (480km) in 72 hours; do 200 miles (320km) in two days.

From the George Archer Six Day Race in South Africa (Photo: courtesy Emma Rodling & Johan Wessel)

It had been quite a while since we left the cafe.

We walked maybe two kilometres for lunch.

Lunch had, we strolled back towards Khan Market, our pace decided by Arun’s passionate talk about running.

Although an accomplished distance runner, Arun was yet to find a major sponsor who stuck around for long. He also mentioned another challenge. When his first trip overseas came up, he had the organizers of the event in Taiwan write to the Planning Commission about the invite so that he could be officially allowed to participate. Unlike other sports including the marathon, the ultra marathon was hardly known in India. Eventually Arun’s participation was approved by the sports ministry and other agencies involved in the approval mechanism. But it was clear – nobody could grasp why the ultra marathon existed, why it was run.

In many ultra marathons, the failure rate is much higher than in the marathon because the course and course conditions are tough. Just finishing an ultra marathon is demanding. Finishing is respected. However the bulk of imagination in sports in India borrows from known themes like the world’s major sporting spectacles and the formats they indulge. Even globally, sport and disciplines in sport are seen to touch a pinnacle when they feature in staged events like the Olympics. This pattern traps our imagination; we lose our innate ability to empathize with the new and the spontaneous for want of vindication by set pattern. Thus when it comes to running, people – including officialdom – understand disciplines ranging from sprint events to the marathon. The ultra marathon puzzles. It finds no empathy. Why should there be madness beyond the marathon? Runners know why.

On one occasion – the six day-endurance run in New York – the bureaucratic delay over clearances in India bit so hard that Arun was forced to fly to New York via Moscow (the cheapest ticket he could find at that point) and reach with hours to spare for race commencement. There was no time to rest and get over the jet lag. He proceeded to run 516km over the next six days.

Arun Bhardwaj (Photo: Shyam G Menon)

In several countries, ultra runners have associations representing them and the sport.

India has none.

Given the politics sports bodies devolve to in India Arun himself has little appetite for the concept of an association. But how else will you familiarize people with the whys of ultra running? How else can officialdom be made to understand the needs of the ultra runner? “ Ultra running is a spiritual journey. You see a body running by. Actually it is spiritual,’’ Arun said. That is the ultra runner speaking and expectedly, it does not reveal to the lay person the physical strain that precedes the experience of the spiritual. Question is – will others here understand things well enough to support and encourage ultra running?

We were now at the entrance to the Khan Market metro station.

Arun walked in to catch a train home.

On the adjacent Subramania Bharti Marg, a sports car zoomed, exhausts screaming.

Everyone loves speed.

How many like the ultra? – I thought.

UPDATE: Early August 2015, Arun Bhardwaj was the winner in the 24-hour Stadium Run held at Sree Kanteerava Stadium, Bengaluru (Bangalore).

Running on the 400 meter track, Arun covered 177.2 kilometers in the assigned time, media reports said.

(The author, Shyam G Menon, is a freelance journalist based in Mumbai. Please note: the timings and records quoted in the article are as provided by the interviewee.)

Kamlya Joma Bhagat (Photo: Latha Venkatraman)

Fanaswadi was a village with two lives.

“ At the earlier location, there were no facilities. There was no doctor, no water, no electricity,’’ Kamlya Joma Bhagat said. In 2011, the village started shifting to where it is today. According to him, the old village survives, mostly abandoned except for four families who continue to be there because the elders didn’t wish to leave the land they had lived off for so long. The agricultural fields belonging to Kamlya’s family were also at the old location. He visited his former residence when required. The new and old locations of the village were apart by roughly five kilometres, separated in the main by a hill. Pale Budruk – that was the name of the area where Fanaswadi’s second avatar sprouted. When you took one of those three wheeled share-taxis from Panvel, you didn’t just say Fanaswadi; you said Fanaswadi-Valap to indicate which Fanaswadi you were talking of.

Half an hour or so from Panvel we got off on the road. Fare paid, the taxi proceeded on its way leaving us next to a board from below which a path of baked brown earth, now rendered powdery by the fierce summer of 2015, wound its way up to a rather spread out cluster of huts and mud houses. Some ways up, a wiry young man of medium height greeted us and took us to his house – all of one room and a sit-out. Behind the hut was the hill separating Fanaswadi’s two lives. Up front and far away, the hill between Kharghar and Belapur loomed, large and faint. Somewhere in that dark outline of hill was Pandavkada, the popular waterfall, right then possibly awaiting the rains to come alive. In front of that hill lay the urban sweep of Kharghar and the factories of Taloja’s industrial zone. At a tangent from the houses we were at, through the summer haze, the rocky top section of a hill was visible in the distance.

The new Fanaswadi sat unsettled on land the families on it were yet to own. They had moved here because they were desperate to be near basic amenities. Technically the land was owned by the government. Apparently there was legal action going on. There was no water and electricity here too. Observations on life were tinged by a neither here nor there vagueness; a smile and a faraway gaze to avert the impact of that uncertainty. At Kamlya’s house a metal sofa had been dressed in a clean sheet for us to sit.

We sat down to hear his story.

Meet Kamlya Bhagat, runner.

Kamlya was born in the old Fanaswadi to a family engaged in agriculture. He was the youngest of six siblings. His father died when Kamlya was still a small child. The family primarily grew rice and nachni (finger millet); they also grew vegetables. Kamlya worked on his family’s land. He also worked on other people’s land as did others in his family. Much of the farm produce at Fanaswadi was meant for use in-house. That was how life amid meagre income was managed.

Fanaswadi, new location (Photo: Latha Venkatraman)

From the age of five or six onward Kamlya attended the Aadivasi Aashram School at Chikhale near Panvel, where he studied till the tenth standard. It was a residential school where the cost of education was met by government. In class eight at this school, Kamlya had his first formal rendezvous with running. It was a 1500 metre-race, which he had to quit with 100m left due to cramps. He had run without any practice. So over the next couple of years he kept running regularly in the range of 5-15 kilometres. Kamlya attended junior college at the Sanjay Gandhi High School in Kolwadi and then joined MPAC College in Panvel to do his BA (Geography). By now the funds for his education were a mix – it came from his family; it also came from his pocket as Kamlya was additionally working at a shampoo factory in Taloja. The distances he ran had now grown to 20km.

In the second year of his three year-degree course, Kamlya secured second position in cross country running at the Mumbai University level. According to him, across his college years, he won 28 medals in disciplines ranging from 1500m to cross country running. He even ran the 4x400m relay. At MPAC College, he practised at the college ground. Sometimes he ran to college from the shampoo factory he worked at. He also ran at University Ground in South Mumbai. Representing the university, he ran at venues outside the state, in Bengaluru and Andhra Pradesh. Kamlya said he had been to four or five inter university meets. Sports elicited a toll on studies. Kamlya never gave his final year BA exam. Academically therefore, the runner from Fanaswadi stopped a shade short of graduation. There were other developments. In his second year at college, Kamlya got married. By the third year, he was a father. Today he has two children, a boy and a girl; one of them suffers from a congenital heart problem. The family also lost one child.

Kamlya, his wife Kalpana and their children, Prathama and Raj, in front of their house (Photo: Latha Venkatraman)

It was during his first year at MPAC College that Kamlya had his first taste of the half marathon. By the second year, he was enjoying the format but remained an athlete in a basket of disciplines. After leaving college Kamlya ran a half marathon, barefoot, in Kalyan. Since then, he mostly ran the half marathon. The distance was a sweet spot for him. Given his backdrop in college running a variety of distances all the way up from the 4x400m relay (he said he could do 1500m in 4:10-4:12), the half marathon allowed him to tap his innate affection for speed. Kamlya estimated that he must have run over 150 half marathons by the time we met him. That prolific running was due to another factor. When Kamlya left college, he was married and having wife and child to support. He couldn’t get a job. There was nothing available. All he had to fall back on was running. Slowly racing became a source of livelihood. These races were typically organized by individuals and organizations ranging from local legislators to elected bodies and others. They happened mostly in the winter months. A good runner, Kamlya was confident of winning races in Raigad, the district he belonged to and lived in. Running almost every week, in a good season, he was able to earn up to Rs 50,000. A modest amount, it nevertheless meant much for the family. Except rice which they grew in their fields, they needed to purchase most other things.

The races made Kamlya locally known. “ I saw his name in a local newspaper. Then I met him in one of the races in Navi Mumbai. We shared our numbers. I called him for a run and he came to Panvel an evening. That was the first time I ran with him. Later I went to his place to run. There we ran on trail. It was very beautiful,’’ Dnyaneshwar Tidke, one of the best known runners from Panvel said (for more on Dnyaneshwar please see https://shyamgopan.wordpress.com/2015/04/11/the-constant-runner/). Although he did his practice runs wearing shoes, Kamlya ran the races barefoot. “ I don’t know why,’’ he said. His runs in and around the new Fanaswadi settlement included running on the road we had come by and extended trail runs on the hill behind the hutment. As regards coaches, there was a “ Shinde sir’’ at MPAC College and a “ Sushil sir’’ at the university. No other names came up.

A seemingly self made runner for the most part, Kamlya’s Fanaswadi address was also miles away from the Mumbai locales where the city’s running coaches trained their wards. But running and runners graced Kamlya and Fanaswadi differently. News of Kamlya Bhagat got around in the running community. For instance, Chetan Gusani, a runner and photographer, was collecting shoes for needy runners when Dnyaneshwar told him of Kamlya. In June 2014, Chetan enrolled him for a 10 km race in Thane and asked Kamlya to stay at his place as it was closer to the venue. Chetan recalled the episode, “ he came over. At night I asked him if he was comfortable. He said he was very comfortable as in his own house he did not have electricity. Next morning, he ran the 10 km-race and finished second in the open category.’’ Chetan put a post on Facebook about Kamlya. Help started coming in. Fellow runners got him shoes, footed his registration fee at races. At a Fanaswadi still devoid of electricity, a line of LED lamps powered by solar energy lined the pathway to Kamlya’s house. The lamps had been provided by a group of runners.

Kamlya with his mother Sangibai (Photo: Latha Venkatraman)

As much as the half marathon emerged a sweet spot for Kamlya, it also appeared a limitation. The 28 year-old (according to Kamlya his legal age is slightly higher) fared strongly in the half marathon viewing it as a longer, stretched version of the middle distance runs he used to do before (and still does well as the outcome of the 10 km shows). At some point, Kamlya knew the same logic of adapting to age and endurance will prod him to try the full marathon. As yet he had neither attempted the full marathon in Mumbai’s annual Standard Chartered marathon (SCMM; India’s biggest such event) nor had his one attempt at the marathon, succeeded. In that latter attempt – a night marathon in Surat – he gave up after a half marathon and some more done because the run wasn’t progressing to his satisfaction. He required better endurance.

Given Kamlya’s predicament, wherein running is also a source of livelihood, satisfaction for him is probably several notches above what satisfaction is for the rest of us. He can shift disciplines only if performance is satisfactory. Further, he believes that he won’t be able to transition to the full marathon from the half without affecting his existing fortunes in the half. For example: to run the full marathon he may likely have to run slower as it spans a longer course. Do that in training several times over, how would it be if he suddenly required to a run a half marathon for money? Won’t he run slow and lose his chance to win? Not to mention: competition was emerging in Raigad. He may want the marathon but he can’t upset the income stream from the half marathon. This was Kamlya’s worry. At the same time, he knew the inner clock was ticking; he won’t stay fast forever. He hadn’t therefore shut the doors on the full marathon. “ I haven’t said no to it,’’ he emphasized. Finally there was the issue of shaking up a whole ecosystem. When we met him, Kamlya was also working as a temporary teacher at a school some distance away. Somehow the half marathon had come to fit in well in terms of the time he was able to spare for running, training and the resources he could invest in his passion, including food intake. Is it worth upsetting the equation?

Kamlya was unsure: should it be the half or the full?

“ I think he can be a full marathoner provided he trains regularly,’’ Dnyaneshwar said.

Maybe one day, like Fanaswadi before, Kamlya will step out into a second life with the full marathon.

UPDATE: At the 2015 BNP Endurathon in Mumbai, Kamlya finished second in the 25km-run. His timing was 1:45:33.

October 2015: Running the half marathon, Kamlya finished fifth in his age category (30-35 years) at the Sriram Properties Bengaluru Marathon 2015. His timing was 01:19:49.

(The authors Latha Venkatraman and Shyam G Menon are independent journalists based in Mumbai. Please note: race details, timings, performance at meets and number of medals won are as provided by the interviewee.)

Abbas Sheikh (Photo: by arrangement)

Mumbai’s Marine Drive is the city’s best known image on a postcard.

In bygone days (and to a lesser extent today), when skyscrapers implicitly meant modernity, this giant arc of reclaimed land bordering the sea and backed by stacks of Mumbai high rises was the city’s signature view. At night, lit by the city’s electric lights and the headlights of passing traffic, it became ` Queen’s Necklace,’ the other name by which Marine Drive is famous. Mumbai’s romance with skyscrapers continues. But like in humanity’s romance with the automobile, a tall building is no more indisputable modernity. The idea of modernity has become more textured.

The road along Marine Drive is approximately three kilometres long. Cars and bikes zip on it. Between the road and the Arabian Sea is a paved area spanning almost the entire length of the arc. Over the years, it has become the postcard view of Mumbai-running. Early morning and evening, the paved area fetches walkers and runners. During weekends, their numbers rise, some of them running to Marine Drive from distant suburbs. Best known of these rituals is probably the monthly Bandra-NCPA run, happening the first Sunday of every month.

A late evening in 2009, a young man from Shikarpur in West Bengal’s Bardhaman district, stood on Marine Drive. He was born into a poor family. He studied only till the sixth standard. His father worked as a farm labourer and his earnings were too little for family of six – parents; two sons, two daughters. Although his elder brother managed to become a post graduate, our young man had to stop studies by the sixth standard to free up money to educate his sisters. The compulsion to find work struck early.

Many from Shikarpur ended up as gold workers in India’s jewellery business. The young man moved so, first to Sidhpur in north Gujarat where he worked for two years on a monthly salary of Rs 2000-2500. Then he shifted to Mumbai, joining a unit where he learnt to polish gold jewellery.

Days were tough. Working hours were long. As a youngster learning the ropes, he often ended up fetching water and cooking for 12-15 people. That late evening in 2009, Abbas Sheikh was out on a stroll with friends after yet another long day polishing gold. Going to Marine Drive after work had become a regular practice and it was on one such visit that Abbas noticed Mumbai’s runners on Queen’s Necklace.

His daily life was classic Mumbai (minus perhaps extensive commute for he stayed with other gold workers in town). It was clock-work, in tune with the timings and hours of the industry he worked for. It was a routine. From all over India, people reach Mumbai for such industrial routine. They find one and cling to it, till the human being’s natural restlessness rebels and seeks expression. Often, you don’t know you are restless within, you don’t know what you want till a hint of something different from the regular, passes you by. Abbas watched the runners pass by. Why not run like them? – He thought. “ Mujhe kuch bhi pata nahi tha running ke bare me (I didn’t know anything about running),’’ Abbas said recalling that Marine Drive-moment. Back then, inspired to run, he spent some money from his frugal earnings to buy track pants and a pair of ordinary sports shoes. “ I was too embarrassed to run in shorts,’’ Abbas said laughing.

That was the beginning.

Abbas Sheikh is now among Mumbai’s best known ultra marathon runners.

The family back home in Shikarpur; parents Ansar Ali Khan and Moina Bibi with Abbas’ sisters Monjila Sheikh and Tanjila Malik (Photo: by arrangement)

Shivaji Park in Dadar is one of the city’s active lifestyle zones. People play, exercise, walk, run – it is also venue for an ultra marathon, a 12 hour endurance-run that Abbas had participated in. We met Abbas near his work place in Sewri. The local Udipi restaurant was crowded, not to mention – you don’t get to sit for long in such busy eateries. And as it happens sometimes, both journalists went blank in the head when it came to recalling an alternative suitable joint nearby. The search for a place to sit and chat over coffee brought us all the way to Shivaji Park. We took a taxi; then walked. Unlike journalist shaped to slouch by typing, Abbas walked confidently. He has a light frame, emphasized further by the spring in his runner’s legs. Marine Drive and thoughts about how to get into running – that was long ago. Abbas now wore Mizuno shoes. We sat down at a cafe to hear his story.

Not long after that Marine Drive-evening, in his initial phase of running in Mumbai, the daily runs were avenue to discover both running and runners. Abbas was intrigued by the urban idea of running for running sake. He does not recall anything by way of running in Shikarpur. In his narrative, the village came across as nothing more than home; the starting point of his life transforming from nondescript to engaging with the advent of running. People running for the love of it, was for him, a totally Mumbai phenomenon. There was one thing in this craziness that he couldn’t comprehend – the distances people ran. They seemed to run and vanish. Over time, he had come to recognize the regular runners on Marine Drive. But unlike him confined to the length of Queen’s Necklace, their running didn’t seem to have an end. They rarely returned the same way. Once he chased after a couple of runners and tracked their progress, realizing in the process the existence of a concept called distance running. Emulating them, Abbas also increased his daily mileage. He began running long distances but had no idea of how to assess the distance. He thought he was doing 6-7 kilometres, when in reality he was running three to four times as much, sometimes more. Slowly he too was recognized as a regular and included into their fold by a group of runners. According to him, it was runners Dev Raman and Purvi Sheth who introduced him to the well known coach, Savio D’Souza. The improvement in his performance since has been remarkable. At the 2013 Bangalore Ultra, he won the 75 kilometre-run. In 2014, Abbas ended up winner in the 100 kilometre-run at the same event. He has also won the Mumbai Road Runners Runner of the Year (Male) award for the year 2013 and 2014.

The journey was not without its ups and downs.

“ In the early days, I used to get frequently injured,’’ Abbas said. It was the typical learning curve of the self taught and self made. But his biggest injury had nothing to do with running. It happened ahead of what would have been his first Standard Chartered Mumbai Marathon (SCMM), the 2011 edition. One day he slipped and fell at the place he resided with fellow workers. “ I was in a very bad shape,’’ Abbas said. The first hospital he went to, the X-ray machine wasn’t working. So his friends took him to St George hospital near Mumbai’s CST railway terminus. There, X-ray done, the injury revealed itself as a broken femur. The doctors said he required surgery; a rod had to be inserted to hold the broken section together. Fearing the cost of hospitalization in Mumbai, Abbas and a relative took the next train to Bardhaman. He endured the journey. The required operation was done in West Bengal. He was advised six months of absolute rest and recuperation. Abbas was back in Mumbai after three months. Slowly, he resumed his running, inching his way back to form by himself. The rod and screws are still there in his leg.

Abbas Sheikh (Photo: Shyam G Menon)

In December 2011 he ran the full marathon at the Pune International Marathon. It was his first time at a running event and he was completely new to the experience. “ I ran without any strategy. Whenever I heard loud music, which was played here and there on the course, I ran fast and slowed down later. I thought music meant you should run faster. Then, halfway through, I felt very tired. I happened to see a guava fruit seller. I bought a guava from him and sat on the sidewalk to eat it. I resumed running when I saw some fast-paced runners go by,’’ he said. By the end of the Pune Marathon, Abbas had learnt an important lesson about long distance running – you don’t run at a blistering pace; you have to plan your run and train in a systematic manner, hydrate well. Soon thereafter, he became a regular at many major running events. Among them – SCMM, Vasai-Virar Mayor’s Marathon, Hyderabad Marathon, Goa River Marathon, Satara Hill Marathon and the Bangalore Ultra.

Abbas Sheikh / race timings:

Run                                                                       Distance                                         Timing

Bangalore Ultra 2012                                          50k                                                   4:47:29

SCMM 2013                                                           42k                                                   3:31:13

Airtel Hyderabad Marathon 2013                     42k                                                   3:27:26

Goa River Marathon 2013                                  21.1k                                                 1:29:56

Bangalore Ultra 2013                                           75k                                                   7:23

SCMM 2014                                                            42k                                                   3:25:40

Bangalore Ultra 2014                                          100k                                                  10:32

Vasai Virar Mayor’s Marathon                             42k                                                   3:10:15

SCMM 2015                                                             42k                                                   3:20:31

Source: Timing Technologies India

Currently, every morning at 5AM, Abbas leaves his quarters and heads to Marine Drive. Most days, he runs 10-15 kilometres, some days, he puts in 30 kilometres. On an average he does 80-90 kilometres per week. “ He is good. He has good endurance,’’ Savio said. According to him, the rod and screws don’t interfere with Abbas’ running. Being with Savio’s group – Savio Stars – has helped Abbas address some of his needs in running gear. He also helps Savio with his coaching work.

Although he has run other distances, Abbas said, his preferred discipline is the ultra marathon. He plans to try the 24 hour-run at the 2015 Bangalore Ultra. His participation in events is limited by availability of resources; he doesn’t have much money to spare. For instance, he said, he would like to try the long distance running events in Ladakh. But Ladakh is a high altitude destination and anything at altitude entails considerable expense given the lengthy stay for acclimatization that is required. There is however a faint possibility that one of these years, he may get to participate in South Africa’s Comrades Marathon, the world’s oldest and largest ultra marathon. “ I hope so,’’ said the man from Shikarpur, who now calls Mumbai home because it is in this city that he gets to run.

“ I love running,’’ Abbas said in Bengali accented Hindi.

Abbas Sheikh on the podium after winning the stadium-run in Bengaluru, August 2015.

UPDATE: Abbas Sheikh was the winner at the 12 hour-stadium run at Sree Kanteerava Stadium in Bangalore, early August 2015.

According to him, he did 266 loops of 400 meters each covering a distance of 106.5 kilometres in the assigned time.

“ It was quite a difficult run because we had to run in a loop of 400 meters. Loop running can be very tough. At one point I wanted to quit,’’ he said.

Abbas had a fall right at the start of the run. For the last three and a half hours he chose to go barefoot. “ The ground had become hot. At the end of the day I can say I learnt to endure loop running although I prefer linear running any day,’’ he said.

In November 2015, at the Performax Bangalore Ultra, Abbas finished second in the open category for men, covering 151 km in 24 hours.

(The authors Latha Venkatraman and Shyam G Menon are independent journalists based in Mumbai. Where photo credit says ` by arrangement,’ the picture concerned has been sourced from Abbas.)

Savio D’Souza (Photo: Shyam G Menon)

“ This is all I have. Make sure you don’t lose anything,’’ Savio said, handing us a small file.

It contained old issues of Mid-Day, Sportsweek and The Daily plus a plastic sleeve with a few photos stained by age.

The former national champion in the marathon used to have more photos from his life in running.

Many have been lost.

The file opened a window to a Mumbai no more there.

Sixty one years old, Savio D’Souza, is today a busy coach, training runners in a city that has become India’s running capital thanks to the iconic Standard Chartered Mumbai Marathon (SCMM). That would seem a fine situation to be in except for two points Savio made in his characteristic in-your-face fashion. The SCMM started in 2004. While the annual marathon got many people into running, those latching on to the sport from Mumbai largely belonged to the 30 plus age group. Because of it, Savio said, there were no timings significant to Indian athletics, to report from the Mumbai lot. In 2015, the women’s national record in the marathon was broken by Kerala’s O.P. Jaisha at SCMM. But timings by runners from Mumbai were nothing significant. On the one hand, running had become a movement in Mumbai. On the other hand, it was far from being cutting edge performance by any Mumbaikar. “ We have a large body of recreational runners. But where are the real athletes? There was a time when Mumbai and Maharashtra produced great track and field athletes. Now the city doesn’t feature anywhere in that department. States like Kerala, Manipur – they have all gone ahead,’’ Savio said. And paradoxically, none of the states which overtook Mumbai and Maharashtra to prominence in athletics have an event comparable to SCMM in size or such a large body of recreational runners around.

From an old race; Savio at far left, the late Shivnath Singh at far right (Photo: by arrangement)

The paper clippings in Savio’s file dated to the early and mid-1980s. As fragments of media from the past they told a story. There was a report from November 24, 1986, about Savio winning the Pune International Marathon, beating Stephen Marwa of Tanzania to second place. Marwa had been winner of the event in 1984. The 1984 Pune International Marathon (the second edition) had been Savio’s first major marathon, wherein he finished first at the national level and third internationally (Marwa was first). In his second marathon – the Singapore International Marathon – Savio finished 18th, reducing his timing by a wide margin. Later at the Hong Kong International Marathon, he was placed 13th (profiles on the Internet say he placed ninth in Hong Kong at the 1986 edition of the event). Savio had his beginnings in the 1500m, 5000m and 10,000m disciplines. He said his best timing to date for the full marathon is around 2:25. That would make him at his peak the equivalent of being sixth among Indian full marathon runners at the 2015 SCMM. And 2015 is around 30 years since Savio’s heydays. “ That’s what I am telling you – that many years ago with much less money and facilities in Mumbai, we had timings in long distance running that matches the timings reported today or were better,’’ Savio said. Indeed the late Shivnath Singh’s national record in the men’s marathon – 2:12:00 – set way back in 1978, still ruled at the time of writing this article, almost 37 years after the timing was reported.

The Mumbai athletics ecosystem of Savio’s time seems to have been different.

From his file, a November 1983 edition of Sportsweek reported on the Runathon, a 12 km-run through Central Mumbai, won by Savio. Other reports spoke of the annual Sportsweek Road Races, five in number, with an overall winner at the end of the series. If media be window to given times, it is interesting to note that most of these reports are detailed and although cricket is dominant news by a wide margin, athletics gets a fair amount of space. Uniquely, unlike contemporary news reports on running which tend to be event-focussed, highlighting the spectacle of event, these old reports dwell more on athletes and less the event. There is an intimacy in the reportage. Savio was national champion from 1984-1988. According to him, in addition to Sportsweek lending its name to running events, many of Mumbai’s private and public sector companies maintained teams in athletics. Mafatlal – the company Savio worked for – had teams in football, cricket and athletics. The city had several athletic meets in a calendar year and each of those races saw the best turn up. Mumbai had a fine share of India’s best for the local ecosystem was breeding and grooming talent. Athletics saw the city’s senior officials arrive to encourage and support. Shashi Kumar Nair, former athlete who is now a senior government counsellor and lawyer at the city’s High Court, recalls S.K. Wankhede (former president of the Board of Control for Cricket in India), O.V. Kuruvilla (former chairman of the Central Board of Direct Taxes) and R.R. Chari (former commissioner of Income Tax) as among those who regularly visited the University Ground to support athletic events. On its part, the public turned up to cheer for they knew they were in for a treat as Mumbai had good athletes. All that community engagement either dried up or similar events continue but without the overall social interest. “ Now we don’t have good long distance runners. Maybe some in Pune and Nashik, but Mumbai – no,’’ Savio said.

Tracktrotters athletes and some of their parents with the Jameson Trophy in 1975 (Photo: copied from the club’s 16th anniversary souvenir)

Two fantastic sports clubs, committed coaches, an accessible track to train on and roads shut down for people to run – these seem to have been old Mumbai’s magic potion to create athletes. For Edward Sequeira aka Eddie, the centre piece of old Mumbai’s infrastructure for athletics was the track at the Bombay University Sports Pavilion, popularly called University Ground. Essentially a track and field facility in the city belonging to the local university, this ground in South Mumbai was where Mumbai’s athletes – from state level to Olympian – converged to train. University Ground had a 400m-oval shaped track, two curves and two straights. “ This is the standard track,’’ Eddie said. The convergence of athletes here was courtesy two sports clubs possessing an evangelical fervour for promoting athletics – Tracktrotters (that is how the name is written) and Juhu Sports Club. Eddie – he is an Olympian, Arjuna Award winner, former Asian record holder in the 1500m and former national record holder in the 1500m, 5000m and the mile – is one of the founding members of Tracktrotters. Both clubs were near similar in what they wished to do and did, although some people cited a distinction by economic flavour with Tracktrotters being very middle class and Juhu Sports Club having a relatively well to do crowd.

Edward (Eddie) Sequeira (in front) at a race in Germany (Photo: by arrangement)

Tracktrotters’ origin goes back to the late 1950s, to a group of senior athletes training together at the St Xavier’s Gymkhana, Parel. In 1962, they became Tracktrotters. The club charged nothing for its coaching. Parents brought their children for prospective training or youngsters approached on their own. “ We would sometimes test the candidate. That was all,’’ Eddie, 75, said. From 1969 onward, Tracktrotters’ regular training was at the University Ground. Although neither the two clubs nor all their trainees belonged to the university, the authorities supported their endeavour. Both clubs maintained boxes on the premises to store gear and equipment. Their coaches, training free of cost, were passionate and committed about what they did. Tracktrotters coaches included Eddie, Mervyn Jacobie, Alex Silveira, Philip Silveira, Vasant Kumar, Prithviraj Kapoor and Peter Rodrigues. The best known from Juhu Sports Club was Bala Govind, who now works in Nashik. He confirmed, training at the Juhu Sports Club also happened free of cost. “ Those days, the concept of charging money wasn’t there,’’ he said. And they produced results – many of Mumbai’s leading athletes from the period had links to these clubs and University Ground; among them – Eddie and Savio. A friendly competition prevailed between Tracktrotters and Juhu Sports Club. This was the athletics ecosystem then. “ Those are the days I will never forget,’’ Eddie said.

Mervyn Jacobie is remembered as a great coach by many. An evening in April 2015, at the playgrounds of Five Garden, Wadala, we met Ashok Shetty, an official at the Mumbai Port Trust and former state champion in the 400m, 800m and 1500m. Born into a poor family residing in Parel, his ability in sports was first spotted by Oliver Andrade, a well known coach in the city those years. Ashok’s first rendezvous with competition earned him no podium finish. With a friend who fared better in athletics, the boy landed up at Tracktrotters. At that time, the club practised at the premises of Khalsa College. “ Anyone could join for training. It was free. The first thing Mervyn did was catch me by the ear, tell me to cut my long hair short and report for training regularly,’’ Ashok recalled.

Ashok Shetty (Photo: Shyam G Menon)

By all accounts Mervyn’s methods won’t sustain in today’s environment. Back then, it delivered results. He was a man of medium size, very strict, insisting on punctuality and completely committed to his work as coach. On Sunday, he took a break from coaching to attend church. Mervyn worked with Central Excise; he retired as Superintendent. In due course, Tracktrotters shifted from Khalsa College premises to the University Ground. Every evening, training began at 5PM and went on till 7.30PM. As coach, Mervyn was hard to please. Those who trained under him got whacked – that seems to have been a Mervyn trademark. Once, Savio, on winning a race, went up to Mervyn to share his glee. “ I got a whack and was asked: why did you look back and run? He told me, you could have run faster had you not looked back, ’’ Savio said. Ashok, after a victory went to Mervyn with trophy and some youngsters inspired to join Tracktrotters. Another whack and pointed advice on how to improve. “ I picked up the trophy, which had fallen from my hands and looked around for the youngsters. They had all disappeared!’’ Ashok said laughing. But Mervyn wasn’t this strict perfectionist alone. Unable to afford a railway pass, Ashok used to walk from Parel to University Ground when Tracktrotters first shifted to the South Mumbai ground for practice. An angry Mervyn would whack Ashok for repeated late arrival. Then he learnt that the boy didn’t have money for the daily commute. Mervyn got him a railway pass. When the pass expired, he gave him money to renew it. Similarly, every Saturday, the whole Tracktrotters team assembled at Santa Cruz and travelled to Juhu to run on the beach. The cost of everyone’s travel was borne by Mervyn. “ For Mervyn, coaching was his life,’’ Ashok, 59, said.

Shashi Kumar Nair (Photo: Shyam G Menon)

At his office in an old building at Mumbai’s Flora Fountain area, Shashi Kumar Nair, 60, opened a shelf and pulled out some documents. “ This shelf is now the Tracktrotters’ office,’’ he said. In a souvenir marking the club’s 16th anniversary, Mervyn Jacobie, wrote, “ Humble as the beginning was, this club had sworn to train young and enthusiastic boys and girls throughout the year, both in and off season, free of cost without any entrance fee, membership or any such formalities, irrespective of religion, caste or creed, to attain standards in athletics. Besides providing training, these athletes are entered without any entry fee for all major athletic meets in the region; track shoes, track suits and spikes are issued to the deserving athletes, from donations received from sports lovers and friends.’’

Major Shashi Tiwari, 50, served with the Indian Army’s Bihar Regiment. He now works with Tata Power. Years ago, he was the national junior champion in 800m and 1500m; he was an athlete at Tracktrotters. “ I spent nine years of my life there,’’ he said. According to him, the main benefit of being at Tracktrotters was that it took anybody in and then put that person through the coaching of a dedicated individual like Mervyn. “ People like Mervyn are hard to find in today’s world,’’ he said. Incidentally, that old Tracktrotters souvenir concluded with a “ list of members – past and present.’’ They numbered around 352. Of them, 239 – that is 68 per cent – had won medals at regional, state or national levels or been participant at international level competitions. Some of them qualified for all four levels of honour.

Edward (Eddie) Sequeira (Photo: Shyam G Menon)

According to Eddie, the decline in Mumbai athletics started about twenty years ago when the university refused permission for outsiders, including the clubs and their wards, to train at University Ground. The exact reason for this development is unclear. Eddie loved this ground, which had built him into the sportsman he came to be. In 1982, after the Asian Games in New Delhi, Mumbai’s University Ground had also been venue for a six nation-athletic meet organized by Tracktrotters. So in 2011, when India’s decision to host the cricket World Cup saw its organizers seek space to expand the Wankhede Stadium and think of encroaching on the nearby University Ground, Eddie put his foot down. He and Shashi Kumar Nair drummed up enough support to prevent any such move. Today the ground survives. It even has a new synthetic track. Access however isn’t as free as before (an official at the office adjacent to the stadium said that the ground is mainly meant for university students; others get to use it if their application is approved). Besides, a new road leading to the cricket stadium has allegedly eaten into what used to be the old athletes’ warm-up area.

Can a giant city’s position in athletics decline simply because a ground shut its doors to the public? Eddie explained it. The question is not the ground per se but what it did and how it worked in combination with the two clubs. The University Ground is perfectly located. Although in South Mumbai, it is accessible by road and rail. It had the city’s only good running track years ago; it has a new synthetic track now. What it did as part of the matrix offered by the clubs and their training, qualified the years gone by. In those years, Mumbai was catching its athletes young. Unlike most games, athletics is an individual sport. Physically demanding, you peak early in it. “ You can be a national champion at 16 or 18 years of age. That is why you have to catch them young,’’ he said. Old Mumbai was interested in sports; it scouted for young talent and found it. Still restoring a ground to regular public use is only part of the panacea. If you want a revival in athletics, the issues to address are several.

To start with, today’s children – including Mumbai’s children – lead lives dramatically different from the children of the 1960s, 70s and 80s. Thanks to contemporary lifestyle, interest in the active life has dipped. A procession of distractions exists – particularly the mobile phone. “ When we trained, we were not allowed to speak to each other or have any distractions,’’ Major Tiwari said. According to him, people from economically challenged backdrops and those hailing from rural areas may still have that required discipline. “ Mumbai has lost it,’’ Major Tiwari said. Veteran coach, Bala Govind, 73, felt that once motivated adequately, today’s children are good. But there is the issue of distraction and how naturally motivated children are toward sports. “ Those years – 30 to 40 years ago that is – were totally different. The children of that time were motivated differently. They saw sports as fun and once motivated, they had no distractions,’’ he said. Currently, even if a child managed to be in sports despite distractions, a major hurdle looms by tenth standard. Studies squeeze out sports. “ In competitive sport, you take a break and come back, your contemporaries have surged ahead,’’ Savio said.

With studies stifling sports, another old trait also began drying up.

Savio was born in Goa in 1953. After finishing his SSC, he moved to Mumbai in 1972. He was a footballer but didn’t enjoy it. He used to train at the University Ground and got admission at Maharashtra College near Byculla in the city, on the strength of his performance in sports. By 1976, he was representing Bombay University in the 5000m and 10,000m. “ I was noticed. Those days we had talent scouts and a system that provided sustenance to dedicated sportspersons,’’ Savio said. Schools and colleges looked around for good talent. Scholarships were provided. If your athletic abilities earned you a seat at college, your continued performance was noticed by companies who gave you employment. “ Such employment matters. I used to be away seven to eight months a year, training and competing. But my employers gave me a regular monthly salary,’’ Eddie said of Tata Steel. According to him, as per an old estimation of 1982, the Tata Group had in its fold then, six world champions, five medal winners at the Olympic Games, four Commonwealth Games medal winners, 36 Asian Games medal winners, 33 Asian Championship medal winners, 41 Arjuna Award winners, 51 Olympians, 57 sportspersons who had participated in the Asian Games, 54 people who had participated in the Asian Championships, one Padma Bhushan and 11 Padma Sri recipients for contribution in sports. He also said that in those days, Tata companies recruited a sportsperson once every two years.

University Ground (Photo: Shyam G Menon)

Some public sector companies still persist with the policy of supporting sports through employment. But a lot has changed in the private sector. There may have been snaps in continuity of support for sports in the city, when the old textile mills – Savio used to represent Mafatlal – restructured, slipped into hard times or plain died out. Mumbai’s new generation industry and the old that survived are more market focussed, preferring to see results and then support, that too in sports enjoying visibility. Exceptions exist. In conversations around recent athletes we had, the Mittals, Jindals and ONGC found mention as patrons of athletics. But that is not how it used to be. In times gone by, being a sportsperson was on par with being good at studies in terms of prospects in life. Today, nobody wants to know your struggle to succeed. They will support you once you are successful. It would be tempting to justify this trend with that approach loved by market and GDP – survival of the fittest. Actually it isn’t that simple. Most coaches know that to find good, hardy talent you have to cast your net wide and not everyone spotted so can survive without a supportive ecosystem. This is true even in the recreational running of today’s Mumbai. Some of the best timings are from people who came up the hard way and whose passage in sports was assisted by supportive others. Ecosystem matters. One comment from the conversations we had about years gone by remained embedded in the brain as a classic synopsis of what our world calls change. Somebody we spoke to said, “ we were doing a good job in athletics and coaching. What we didn’t have was a Power Point presentation like today’s market savvy folks.’’

“ The required change has to happen from school level onward. Without it there is no chance,’’ Savio said. He felt, the system of coaching at schools must be changed with sportspersons taking over the task. “ If the coach is a sportsperson, then he or she will make sports happen no matter what the challenge, because they enjoy sports,’’ he said. An interesting aside here is that when Eddie got his first job as a mechanical apprentice at Central Railways, sports was compulsory for railway employees. According to him, a Mumbai revival in athletics could start with training the resident coaches properly; send them abroad so that they get to know what good coaching is and bring it back to the city. He pointed out that unlike the salaried government coaches of today, the city’s old coaches – the ones who blazed a trail at Tracktrotters and Juhu Sports club – were devoted to sports and coaching for the love of it. They charged nothing. And they produced results if Mumbai’s past in athletics is anything to go by. Such passion must return to the city. There has to be more athletic meets. “ Bring back the old road races. Rain or no rain, the Oval Maidan is there; the University Ground is there, Marine Drive is there. Don’t have just one meet in a year – of what use is that?’’ Eddie asked. Finally “ forget about seniors; focus on juniors.’’ He wanted corporate sponsors for junior teams. “ My suggestion is that every big company should have at least one athletics meet for juniors,’’ he said, emphasizing alongside that the habit of pushing in over aged persons into junior categories to win prizes, should stop. According to Eddie and Shashi Kumar Nair, Tracktrotters is hoping to make a comeback. The club held a general body meeting in this regard attended by 50-60 old members. “ From the club’s side, we are giving the commitment that we will return the old glory to Mumbai athletics,’’ Nair, vice president, said.

Savio (Photo: by arrangement)

We leave you with a vignette of old Mumbai; an edited abstract from the old Sportsweek report on the Runathon:

“ Police Commissioner Julio Ribeiro in a dashing Bombay Police track-suit set the big field (491 to be exact) off from Shivaji Park at 7AM. Though the start was together in the classic Boston Marathon style, for the different groups, the race was terminated at different stages of the course. At one stage, the runners were strung out from Dadar, down to Parel and Lalbaug, over Currey Road and Lower Parel bridges and into the homestretch. The traffic police and the Naigaum police co-operated throughout in keeping the roads reasonably clear for the runners. Savio D’Souza, Bombay’s and Mafatlal’s ace runner led the field right through, at first a few lengths ahead, then more, finally striding almost alone, king of the road. There were runners from Track Trotters, Atomic Energy Central School, St Sebastians of Dabul, Young Athletic Club, Customs and Income Tax. Captain Reza Beg of Air India was there. The day before, he was jogging in Tokyo. On Sunday, he took off with the rest of the runners from Shivaji Park. Course completed, he carefully logged his personal time in a logbook. The regular early morning Shivaji Park joggers and walkers joined in, including a 76 year old-veteran. Later a special prize was announced for him but he had disappeared. The prizes ranged from sports scholarships to silver cups, Hot-Shot cameras and other items. Bombay has started running for fun. Perhaps a little behind the rest of the world, but it has started.’’

The year was 1983.

(The authors Latha Venkatraman and Shyam G Menon are independent journalists based in Mumbai. The timings at races are as provided by the interviewees. Where photo credit says ` by arrangement,’ the picture concerned has been sourced from Eddie or Savio.)