The ‘Mumbai Marathon’ InSight
‘We are all suffering from a shortage of kindness.’
And yet somehow, there is so much of it filled within each of us. It’s just a matter of who decides to spread it. If everyone did, this quote would be rendered moot. So why don’t we? It takes one small act to create a ripple effect that could possibly help someone for a lifetime.
This sounds like the start of college essays I wrote, but I have been fortunate to have kindness embedded into my values from a young age. I accompanied my dada as he went on his daily chores to benefit others and sat by my dadi as she decided the items we could give to charity. I joined dad as he delivered talks about the importance of kindness in schools, conferences, in Mumbai and outside, as he spoke to new people, painted walls advocating for the same cause, and even aided a visually impaired girl in the 2016 Mumbai Pinkathon. There is this picture of the three of us crossing the finish line, each of her hands in one of ours, with bright smiles across our faces. At the moment, I forgot that I loved sleep, I forgot that I had woken up at 4 am, I forgot that my chubby legs would hurt. I was joyous that I could help somebody else achieve something.
But as time passed, I couldn’t be my dad’s shadow at every event. I lost track of his deeds of kindness. Would I ever be able to relive those moments?
The opportunity presented itself to me on Saturday, 14th January 2023, one day before the Tata Mumbai Marathon. I was completing an assignment when my dad called me, telling me there was a 10-kilometre bib up for grabs for the next day. I would run alongside a visually impaired partner. I laughed, thinking he was joking. But he brought the bib home. I am vicariously known for my lack of physical activities, so much so that my mother did not believe I could leave the house unless I was dragged out. I was dreading the time after the marathon, knowing that my leg muscles would spasm.
I found solace in the fact that I could relive the 2016 memories of helping somebody else. But this time, it was just me. Would I click with my buddy? Will I be able to assist him all by myself? The doubts clouded my mind. On four hours of sleep, I woke up to the chilly Bombay winter and trudged towards the station. What if I can’t complete the run? I don’t even know who he is. How can I let him down? The thoughts continued even at the registration desk, where they ticked off my name.
And then I met Abhishek.
Our mutual love for M.S. Dhoni and an immediate rivalry as respective Mumbai Indians and Chennai Super Kings fans acted as a launchpad for our friendship. The following two hours were no longer a marathon — they were just the time I could use to get to know my new friend. That’s the beauty of sport; it unites individuals who are so different.
‘Hum chalkar baaki logon ko overtake kar lenge.’
My 20-year-old buddy from Pune, studying to become a lawyer, an avid cricket and Kabaddi fan, and a swimming and trekking enthusiast, had more belief in our capabilities than I could begin to fathom. His spirit almost transferred to me as we picked up our walking pace. His aura and approach from the get-go had me taken aback. Seeing how someone with such a disadvantage embraced life with such joy was inspiring. He travelled all the way from Pune just for one day to complete the marathon. And there I was, in contrast, overthinking whether I should have come, even though it was a 15-minute drive away. He gave me a hard-hitting reality check early in the morning, and as the sun rose as we passed Marine Drive, I could see the light beginning to shine in my heart.
I was supposed to be his guide, but he made me navigate such an important understanding that day. I finally understood the concept of karma and how my actions of wanting to help somebody came back and helped me instead. Joey from F.R.I.E.N.D.S. once told Phoebe that no deed is selfless. He was right. I got so much by extending a helping hand.
Time flew by, and as my Apple Watch step count kept increasing, so did our memories. It was a bond that lasted no more than four hours, but it is one whose lessons I will remember for a lifetime. Every kilometre I walked alongside him, his independence and grit, his relentless attitude kept hitting me in the face, and all I could do was wonder how lucky I am and how I am not grateful enough for all the benefits I have been showered with.
Make the best of what we have because we’re so privileged with everything around us. There are so many in the world living lives of hardships with smiles on their faces, and here we are, getting upset with the smallest inconveniences. I finally understood why my dad has carried on his movement of kindness. It’s not about us helping those around us; it’s what they teach us about living life.
That day, I felt pain in my calves, shins, ankles, and thighs. But my thoughts were not clouded anymore. My heart was beating with the fulfilment of executing a joyous deed of kindness, and my mind was engraved with lessons and memories I will never forget.
Everybody who was a part of the marathon organization for visually impaired buddies was thanking the volunteers who helped those in need to complete the distance. But, in my case, it was the other way around. If it weren’t for Abhishek, I would never have had the mindset to run the marathon.
This opportunity presented itself through the Adventures Beyond Barriers Foundation (ABBF). Founded by Divyanshu Ganatra, the organisation promotes Disability Inclusion through adaptive adventure and sports activities for people (with and without disability) to come together and experience the adrenaline and camaraderie that only sport has to offer. They organise a range of adventure activities including marathons, tandem cycling, scuba diving, paragliding, and mountaineering.
Without their support, the logistics, supervision, and accessibility we had throughout the run would not be matched. I also got to see such immense smiles across everybody’s faces in the tent, just because of what we could achieve together as a group.
