Looking out of my living room window in the morning, I see that people in Mumbai are always running.
Office goers run to catch the 7.32 local train to VT.
Children wake up a few minutes late in the morning and run, with satchels flying behind them, to catch the school bus. Harried mothers run after them, carrying the tiffin boxes the children have forgotten in their haste.
The newspaper boy is a bit behind schedule, so he flings his bicycle to one side and runs into our building, carrying his stack of newspapers.
In the afternoons, it is a joy to see very young children running in the compound of our building. Their running has no real reason, but somehow seems more meaningful than that of the adults.
The habit of running is so addictive that people run even if there is no need for it.
People in Mumbai love running so much that Marathons are held regularly, with many enthusiasts participating.
The word Marathon has an interesting origin. The Greek soldier Pheidippides ran from the Battle of Marathon in Greece, to Athens, bringing news of a Greek victory over the Persians. At the end of his historic run, he collapsed and died.
Running evidently has its limits.
Sometimes it seems that everyone is running on a stationary treadmill. So much time and energy spent, but still they are in the same place.
The other day a friend said- I don’t know how the years went by, time just flies.
Apparently time was flying while she was running!