One Thousand Five Hundred Meters ....

As I ran the final lap, I was breathing in gasps, I felt light headed, the shouts I kept hearing to go on.. It came as if from a distance until finally I crash landed at the ribbon.....

I had come third in the 1500 meter race. It was 1997 and I was in my twelfth standard; My last year in Jabriya Indian School.

It was a mean feat since I was the shortest and stoutest person to do the same. All my friends who took part were lean and tall. No one expected me to even complete the race.. But unknown to them, I had worked hard to get myself ready for this and though my only intention was to not get humiliated and complete the race, what I had done stood me stead.

It was the Maidan Hawally Sports Complex close to my home where our School's Annual Sports Fest was organized. I already was a regular member of this sporting complex where for free I was learning karate, or rather "ShotoKan" with the Arabs. Maybe it was my looks that made others doubt if I was an Arab, but it took them considerable time to accept me when they realized I was Indian. Though everyone was cordial, once in a while I used to hear the reference and laughter at being an Indian. I did not mind it and after 2 years many of them became good friends. At least their attitude towards me changed.

Just before this tournament started, I took permission to enter the artificial track and when I went to run, I got introduced to a Tunisian coach who was training the Kuwaiti students for sprints and long runs. He had two suggestions to me, " Lijoe when you run, run with your knees pulled high & secondly its going to be virtually impossible to become a long distance runner with your physique and he suggested I change to a fish diet if I were to ever think of seriously doing it."

He made sure he came and spoke to me every day and he watched my progress for the 1 week I trained there. On the eve of the meet I told my coach that after it I would not come, he for a moment smiled at me and said genuinely, though he was not paid to train me, he felt happy seeing my determination and he wished his other students showed the determination I had shown.

When I sat there gulping the glucose after the race was over, I thought of him. I never took down his name or number since I was not very sure I could ask him that. But I know in my heart I thanked him for those words of wisdom and for watching me throughout the training time and giving me his advices even though he knew I would never make it bigger on that track

The Bronze medal is still with me and I cherish those moments. Each time I see it I remember that unknown Tunisian Coach who was the reason I could run on that track without hindrance and at least put a semblance of sportsmanship...

He was one of my Dronacharya's who did not ask me my guru dakshina... and I have had many such people in my life due to whom I am where I am today...