The Villager Road Tax

                Loki worked from sun-up to sun-down on the two acre land he had managed to wrestle from his brothers after their father’s death. He had been saving for two years to buy a new motorbike but the rain gods had proven fickle and middle-men who bought his crops stingy and thieving. He was stuck with the rusty bike his father-in-law had given him on the eve of his wedding. His reverie was interrupted by a huge black car coming to a screeching halt trying to avoid a dog on the street. A bulky guy got out of the driver’s seat, checked his car tires, found them satisfactory and drove off leaving the mutilated body of the dog in the middle of the national highway. Sometimes goats and chickens owned by the villagers were victims of the high speed roads. Loki never understood the arrogance of city folks- trampling livestock with their cars and bikes, not in the least bothered about how it affected the livelihood of poor villagers.

                Loki considered the recently built national highway a curse. It cut across the middle of the village making even crossing the road a hazard. Once the villagers had got together and paid a private contractor to build a speed bump at both the ends of the village. That helped until a few officials from highway development authority leveled the road again warning the village council against building such barriers. The council denied everything, claimed innocence and feigned outrage at the accusation.

                In the initial days after the road was built, villagers accepted any small compensation given to them by errant drivers for harming their livestock. But all this changed when Loki’s friend’s cow got mowed down by an SUV.  Yogesh demanded an exorbitant amount and the entire village had gathered to argue with the driver and his wife. The villagers finally managed to extract more than their pound of flesh.  Loki knew that the old cow had stopped producing milk a year ago. Yogesh could now buy a new jersey cow with what the driver ended up paying. The village council of course took a cut. The men had a good laugh about the entire incident that evening under the banyan tree. One of them called it the “road tax”.

                From that day, Loki stopped scolding his children when they let the chickens and goats out near the highway. He did not have to wait for too long for what he had secretly been hoping for but would not admit even to his wife. A couple in a two wheeler had crashed into a post trying to avoid his goat. Somehow the goat had managed to limp away without much injury.  Loki’s first thought was that the couple were grievously injured. He did not want to rush onto the highway to demand payment for his goat only to find the couple dying or in need of help.

                Meanwhile a few cyclists had stopped to check on the fallen couple.  Why men ride cycles this far instead of using motorbikes, he had no idea. Masochists most likely, he concluded. The cyclists had managed to help the couple with water. Loki saw that the rider, though bleeding was now standing and about to climb on his motorbike and drive away. Fat chance he thought.

                Loki managed to stop the couple from speeding away to a hospital and straight away demanded payment for his injured goat. The couple looked speechless and the cyclist decided to speak up for them “Let them first go to the hospital man, the guy is bleeding”. All Loki knew was that if he let the couple go now, he would never see them again; “No, now”, he insisted. He claimed that his livelihood had been ruined due to the loss of his goat. As if on cue, a lot of folks from the village were suddenly with him taking the same line. A few other cyclists and folks from a car had stopped as well and took the side of the couple. The villagers accused the cyclists of rowdyism while the cyclists insisted on taking the couple to a hospital. The cyclists also claimed that the goat was not injured at all. Words were bandied back and forth.

                Suddenly before Loki knew, the cyclist who had initially assisted the couple was coming at him angrily. Loki knew that there was no way the villagers would let a city-bred funnily clad  cyclist beat him in their own place. One or two of his friends helped as they beat up the angry young man. Soon the rest of the villagers and cyclists managed to break up the brawl. Seeing bloodshed had the desired effect on the injured couple, they offered to pay up, just as Loki knew that they would. In parting, the beaten up cyclist calmly spoke up “One day I hope a car runs you over and there is nobody to help”. Loki pretended to not hear the cyclist. Neither did he care. His dream of a new motorbike had just got a little bit closer...

Almost there - The Mysore Half Marathon 2011

                The clock showed 6:55 a.m., 10 minutes more than the scheduled start time of the Mysore Half Marathon 2011. All the runners were waiting patiently at the start line - The imposing Mysore palace. Okay, the “patiently” part was a lie. We had all warmed up for a 6:45 start but apparently Chief Guest Javagal Srinath does not mess with his 8 hour sleep cycle. We greeted him with a loud ‘boo’ when he finally ambled along to the start line. I was targeting a finish of 1 hr. 40 mins, which meant running faster than 5 min/km for 21 kms. My friend Bala from Bangalore was targeting 1 hr. 45 mins but he gamely agreed to run with me for the entire distance.

                The elites simply took off as soon as the start gun went off. Not sure if it was the pace the elites set or our own stupidity, Bala and I decided to give them chase. Big Mistake. We ran the first two kms in around 8 mins, way faster than what I had planned. Any distance runner worth his salt would tell you that you should not run somebody else’s race. And here I was disobeying the most basic tenet of long distance running. I settled into a nice breathing pattern, slowed down and let Bala compete with the elites!

               My plan was to finish the first half of the race in 50 mins. But realized that I would get there about a minute or two early at our current pace. The route meandered into Kukkenahalli kere, the best running place in my beautiful hometown. We ran into the elites returning from the midway point. And the three in the lead were blazing. Their coach was on the sidelines and screaming at them to pick up pace. Hah! That is one coach I hope to avoid for the rest of my natural life.

              At around the 8k mark, the effects of chasing the elites caught up with Bala and I ran alongside him for the new few kms.  My lace came untied twice and I wasted sometime getting it right. My hands were unsteady and my fist and jaw tightly clenched – a clear sign that I was trying too hard. Stopped for water at the 12k mark aid station. With little humidity and cool breeze, I decided that I could manage with only one stop for water. And that certainly helps.

The Celebration Mysore Half Marathon

                I checked out my GPS watch and found that I had to run the last 8k in 39 mins to finish within my target of 1 hr. 40 mins. My usual running pace at that point in time was 5 mins/kms meaning 40 mins for 8 km. I just had to run a couple of kms faster. Sounds easier when I put it on paper but the second half had a few up-hills and increased traffic which meant that saving that one minute was not going to be easy. My mom had promised to come to the route to cheer me, but I missed her as well due to my decision to go for glory.

  The final push never came. Somebody on the road shouted “Boss you are 28^th… Run faster, so many people have gone ahead”. That brought a smile to my in spite of all the pain/pressure I had put myself in. Finished in 1 hr. 41 mins and Bala finished a couple of mins behind me. Missed my running season target by around 1 minute. Almost there but not there. Story of my running life really.

  Soni Mathew finished in 1:09 mins and took 1^st place in men’s division and Kavita Raut in 1:20 took 1^st in the women’s division. As for me, I have time until the Auroville 2012 to reach my season target of 1 hr. 40 mins. With all the arrogance and confidence I can muster, I declare myself good enough for a 1:40 HM in the coming months. Only time will tell!

Why I started running?

A few days ago I completed the Kaveri Trail Half Marathon in 1 hr 45 mins. During the run, I overtook quite a few slow, tired and struggling 10k runners with a smirk of superiority and disdain. I was running as per a plan and saw these slow runners on the narrow trail as an obstacle. After the race, it was time for introspection and I realized that there was no reason for me to look down upon these slower runners – after all I was once one of them. There is no better lesson in humility than to remember one’s own humble beginning. Let's rewind to around one and a half years and start from there.

It had been four years since moving to Bangalore. Four years since I joined a start-up and realized that programming was something I enjoyed.  As the years went by, the time I spent at work increased and so did my waistline. I told myself I was too busy to spare time for exercise. Gradually, I realized what I was all set to become - one more fat slob working in IT and heading into middle age working away my life and health 12 hours a day for six days a week. 

It was at this point in time that I saw an article in the newspaper regarding the Bangalore Sunfeast 10k run with Sachin Tendulkar exhorting the people of Bangalore to run. Somewhere it struck a chord. Never having run before, I immediately registered for the 6k majja run believing that a 10k was outside the realm of possibility. The very next day I put on my discarded running shoes and headed out to the park. I told myself that I could walk for a day if required since I had done a couple of treks the previous year. Yeah. A blatant lie if there ever was one! You got to lie to yourself sometimes and if it were a matter of mind such bravado might even have worked, but the body always speaks the truth. I could not run more than two rounds – all of 700 meters. It was simply too tiring.

I kept practicing just because I had already registered for the event and did not want to give up so easily. Come race-day, I ran those 6 kms stopping at every aid station to replenish myself. I struggled and my legs were sore but I managed to cross the finish line. I promised myself that the run was the first step of a long journey.

These days I run almost a half marathon a week. I have lost around 8 kgs since I started running, completed three full marathons, get withdrawal symptoms if I don’t run for more than a few days and am preparing for my first ultra marathon distance of 50k. But I will never forget what those SIX kilometers meant in the grand scheme of things.

The Hyderabad Marathon – The Replacement Pacer

          It was race day. I felt stupid with a floating helium balloon tied to my shirt. The number “4” was written on the balloon in big letters indicating that I was the pacer for folks wishing to complete the marathon in 4 hours. Somebody asked me if my previous best full marathon time we lesser than 3:30 and I truthfully replied that it was more like 5:30. I was supposed to be part coach, part friend, and part mentor at least for four hours apart from being an experienced long distance runner who sets a steady pace. Instead I was anxious and doubt constantly gnawed me.
                    

Me at starting point with balloon

           I had always wanted to complete the Hyderabad marathon in 4 hours and during Bib collection asked Steve (one of the organizers) for more information about the 4 hour pacer. The pacer had not turned up and we set about the arduous task for finding a replacement pacer. And they are as rare as a pig in flight.  Anybody who can comfortably do a 4:00 hour marathon would rather push harder and aim for a better finish instead of herding newbies. Steve decided that we would have two pacers for the 4:00 hour bus with me running the first half (21 kms) and another fresh-legs runner starting from the midway point till the end.

Ever since I moved to Hyderabad from Bangalore a few months ago, I had started running with more discipline. I put in intense quality workouts instead of just adding more miles. I started running with the “Hyderabad Runners” group and was taken in by the camaraderie and support of its members. Not only did I run with them, I also attended shoe clinics and weekly fitness sessions with them. Somewhere along the line I realized that I could run much faster than what I thought I was capable of. And that’s when I decided that I should run a full marathon within 4 hours. And how I planned to do cut off more than 90 mins from my previous best marathon distance, I had no idea! I just knew I had to do it. I choose the Hal Higdon’s advanced 1 marathon training program and stuck with it. I lost weight and was fitter than I ever was. But I had no pretensions about being able to successfully lead a group of runners along with me at the finish line.

Majority of the runners in the 4 hour bus (group led by pacer) were Tamilians from Bangalore- Suresh Seshadri, Nari, and Vasu and we had a blast during the run. Gopal, Brajesh, Dr. Umesh and Neera Katwal also joined in. My job was to lead the group until the 21k mark in around 1:58 mins. A few kms into the run I could clearly see that Neera was more than capable of a 4 hr FM but was holding back only because it was her first Full Marathon. Around 12 kms into the run, Suresh came down with cramps but was still running if only to give me company for some more time. I took a few breaks here and there but maintained the speed as indicated in the pace band I wore on my wrist. The flyovers soon took their toll on Suresh and he slowed down. I realized I could not slow down for him and neither did he expect me to. We hit the 21k mark in exactly 1 hr 58 mins and Raju was waiting to take over my balloon. Neera and Brajesh were ahead of us and Nari, Vasu and Gopal were a few meters behind me. My job as pacer was done.

Now I was running for myself. Dr. Umesh kept running with me while the others sped ahead with Raju. When I hit the 32k mark, I noticed that I had to run the last 10k within 58 mins for my dream finish. I realized that I had underestimated how tough the route was. I kept chugging uphill after uphill and there was always one more round the corner. Dr. Umesh had fallen back and I was running alone now. Thankfully a few cyclists from the Hyderabad Cycling Club and my friend Madhu from Hyderabad University paced me for a few mins. When I hit the 38k mark, I still had to cover 4 kms in 20 mins. That’s when I realized that my dream of finishing within 4 hours would remain that – a dream. And that’s right about the time when the body does not want to go forward and your spirit is already crushed. I started walking in agony and pain for the first time in the race.
                   

Picture with Elaine at end point. The photographer jumped the trigger before we jumped!

After a km of run/walk, somebody from behind shouted – “Don’t walk. Do a slow jog instead. It keeps the blood flowing” and I did as instructed. A few hundred meters into the run, I understood that there was nothing to feel let down about. All expectations were of my own choosing and I could still be proud of finishing a few minutes outside of the 4 hour mark. Somehow I found the energy to sprint the last hundred meters and overtake that gentleman who had egged me on. Time on my garmin watch showed 4 hr 7 mins and 12 secs, exactly 81 minutes faster than my previous best. The marathon distance is indeed a microcosm of life – full of little joys and disappointments. When you finish one, you realize the person at the end line though temporarily down on energy is a stronger person than the one at the start line a few hours ago.

Badami, Aihole and Pattadakal – A Journey through history- Part 2

           My friends and I had travelled to North Karnataka seeking the cradle of temple architecture of India. Here's part  two of my blog on our journey through the ages. 

Badami:

Badami was the second capital of the Chalukyas and was founded by Pulikesi-I in 540 AD. Badami is called so because of the colour of rocks is the same as the nut Badami (or Almond). The main temples have been hewn out of sand stone on the precipice of a hill. Cave style is the most difficult form of temple building because there is only one opportunity to get the sculptures right. No second chance to replace a broken statue with another one built elsewhere.

   

Anantasana - Vishnu on a nagashesha

Shiva Thandava

There are four cave temples, three Hindu and one Jain. The first cave is the oldest and has a stunning sculpture of Shiva with 18 arms in a dancing posture- the apocalyptic Shiva Thandava. The Ardhanarishwara (half-Shiva, half-Parvathi) and the Harihara (half-Vishnu, half-Shiva) are the other main sculptures in cave 1. Caves 2 and 3 are dedicated entirely to Vishnu. Cave 2 has a sculpture of Vishnu sitting on a lotus- The Anantasana, the image that is ubiquitous in every reference to Badami. Cave 4 has images of Digambara Jains, Tirthankaras and Mahavira and goes some way in showing the secular nature of the Chalukyan rulers.

Front view of the Badami caves

These caves also served as shelter houses at lean times and you can also see carvings of board games like Pallanguli(Many-Holes) and HuliMane(Lion House) indicating the presence of young children. There are no palaces in Badami (unlike Hampi) to show that the rulers lived in splendour and research shows that the rulers resided in wooden houses while building these majestic caves temples for the Gods to reside in.

Pattadakal:

                Pattadakal is situated on the banks of the Uttara Vahini River and is supposed to be the pinnacle of Chalukyan architecture. It was established in the later stages around 7-8^th century AD. Pattadakal literally means rock of coronation in Kannada. It is also called as Shilapura or the place of sculptures. All the temples here are Shiva temples (unlike Badami and Aihole) and all of them face the East. There is also a Jain temple built later by the Rashtrakuta rulers.

Mallikarjuna (Dravidian)  and the Kasi Visvesvara(Aryan)

View of all temples in Pattadakal

                Pattadakal is a UNESCO world heritage site and has ten major temples, a co-existence of Dravidian, Aryan and hybrid style of temple building. The textured carvings on the pillars are full of stories of Ramayana, Mahabharata and the DashaAvatars of Vishnu. We could also find a rich trove of stories from Panchatantra carved on the pillars. In 1565 AD, the Bahamani Sultan ransacked the place, but let the temple structures remain intact. I imagine that perhaps the conqueror recognized that such a fusion of art, architecture and skill is rare and deserves its place in history.

P.S: The link to my Picasa web album with pictures from the trip: http://goo.gl/photos/VMBkmg9KcQ

Badami, Aihole and Pattadakal – A Journey through history- Part 1

                 Be it a metro dotted with skyscrapers and malls or a dusty little village in the hinterland, you can be sure that you are never too far away from a temple in India. Some of these majestic structures have withstood the ravages of time for centuries and still stand tall and proud. Have you ever wondered when and where our ancestors discovered, honed and perfected their skills in art and architecture thereby permitting us to gaze proudly at these temples today?  To answer these questions and also have some fun along the way, I set out to North Karnataka with a few of my friends hoping to travel through the ages into the very beginning of known Indian History.

                Badami, Aihole and Pattadakal form the historical trio of places where the art of building temples and rock carvings flourished right from 5^th century AD. Badami is located around 500 kms from Bangalore and is accessible by train and bus. Aihole is around 40 kms from Badami and Pattadakal is midway between them.

Durg Temple

Aihole:

                Aihole was the first capital of the Chalukyas and was called Aryapura in its earlier days. It was supposed to have been renamed Aihole after a woman found Parashurama, the Kshatriya(warrior clan) killer, washing his bloody axe in the lake and exclaiming “Ayyo-Hole”(the lake)!! Doubtless we will never know why and when Aryapura became Aihole since in our nation mythology is sometimes indistinguishable from history.

Aihole is supposed to the “Cradle of Indian Architecture” and has around 125 temples and a few caves. At the entrance of the complex is the horse-shoe shaped durg temple. This temple is supposedly the inspiration for the famous Konark temple in Orissa. Aihole has temples for both the main Hindu deities- Vishu, the protector and Shiva, the destroyer. Even though the Chalukyans worshipped Vishnu, prominence was given to Shiva as well indicating presence of both Shaivism(Worship of Shiva) and Vaishnavism(Worship of Vishnu) school of thought.

  

TriBangi Shiva

HariHara - Vishnu/Shiva

The Tribanghi Shiva, Vijaya Narasimha, Mahishasure Mardhini and Harihara(Half-Vishnu Half-Shiva) are some of the notable sculptures. The Ladkhan temple in the structures dates back to the 5^th century. Interestingly the sculptors were given the freedom to paint a true picture of those times. One sculpture shows an elephant crushing a condemned man to death. Another set of carvings show a couple cozying up before marriage and fighting it out after. Clearly the sculptor must have drunk deeply from the cup of life!

The Traffic Signal

The traffic signal ahead turns red and I slowly ease my car to a halt, squeezing it in the gap between two other cars. My car window is generally up, mostly to avoid the dust and smoke in the roads of Bangalore. It also helps avoid bothersome hawkers, groping eunuchs and old women with crying babies. But tonight it is down and before I know it, there is a kid beside my car, with a bamboo basket full of what can only be described as plastic junk. He says ‘Anna, 10 rupees only. Will you please buy one?’

My first instinct is to pull up my car window. After years of driving on Bangalore’s roads, I had pretty much become inured to such sights and had taught myself to ignore such things. I generally persuade myself with the usual arguments – ‘Of course the crying baby clinging to her neck is rented’, ‘I don’t want to encourage begging’, ‘This crossing is so busy, this woman makes enough money to manage a savings account in the bank across the street’ etc. But something about the little kid peering expectantly at me stops my hand.

The boy seems to be around 5-6 years old and the first thing I notice is his grotesque lips split till his chin leaving his disfigured for life. There is a misty glaze in his eyes that shouts out that he does not belong to streets. Perhaps he wants to go home. I wish that he has one and somebody to take care of him. But I know there is nobody since the kid would not be hawking toys in the streets at night if somebody really cared about him.

In spite of my refusal, he continues to plead. ‘Please anna, it’s only 10 rupees’. I think that maybe he has a ‘pimp’ who would beat later him until he handed over all the day’s earnings or else maybe he has not yet sold his quota of toys for the day, which could explain what he was doing in the street at 9 in the night. But one thing I know for sure. The kid led a tough life; one that folks like me in air conditioned cars cannot understand or seldom bother to. I empty all the change in my wallet into his outstretched hands and even refuse the plastic toy that he hands me in return.

I know that the kid will probably not get to keep the money. All I could hope to do is give him ‘hope’. I look into his eyes and give him a gentle and reassuring smile as if to say ‘Everything will be fine kiddo’. His response to the smile shatters what little hope I harbor for the little boy. There is none. Perhaps both of us know that my smile serves no purpose and does little to alter his predicament. As if on cue, the traffic signal turns green. He seems ready to burst into tears at any moment. But instead just turns his head away from me and hurries along to the pavement, anxiously waiting for the signal to turn red again.