Mother and son, united in stride
Growing up, I was a sprightly kid but never too keen on sports. I attribute my passion for running to an incident during a summer trip to my native village, Farmanah. One morning, restless and bored, I started exploring the old village house.
It was in a dusty garret in a storeroom, that I found something that piqued my interest. I saw a plaque for 1st place in a state athletics meet in Delhi. I was surprised to see that the athlete was Kamlesh Kumari, my mother!
I only knew my mother, the suburban teacher. I didn’t know much about her life before marriage, and this seemed pretty cool. I ran out to Grandpa, questions bubbling in my eyes. He sat me down and I was treated to the most inspiring story I have ever heard.
This was the story of an intrepid girl, a gifted athlete and her struggle against odds. My mother had been a state-level athlete, winning accolades far beyond her small village while competing on track, barefeet and wearing a modest Salwar Kamiz. I heard the travails of pursuing sports in the backdrop of poverty and illiteracy. It was a poignant story which filled me with sorrow and pride.
This trip brought a realization to me. The struggles of my mother against societal pressures, a patriarchal system and her perseverance would stay on as reminders and motivators throughout my life.
It helped me to take up running with a passion, with the memories of my mother’s achievements putting a fillip to every stride. Its true that your parents are your closest peers, and I remember my mom’s example every time I am trying to conquer a hill, or finish my last mile in a race.
You don’t like me saying it but thanks, mom; it’s been over 16 years we both woke at 4AM and went for a jog together. Delhi winters were so cold. I cribbed and complained back then but now look back fondly at those early mornings. Delhi winters couldn't be any warmer…
