"You don’t stop running because you get old, you get old because you stop running," a quote which resonates deeply with the life of Fauja Singh, the "Turbaned Tornado" who began running marathons at 89 and became the first centenarian to complete one.
The widely admired 114-year-old soon became a global icon. While Singh is not with us anymore, the courage, the will, the determination, and the discipline he showed, will continue to inspire the generations. Singh died on Monday night after he was hit by a yet-to-be-identified vehicle while out for a walk at Beas Pind, his native village in Jalandhar.
The frail man, who weathered many personal storms with his resilience and "nonchalance", had spent a better part of his running career in Britain and returned to his roots just about three years ago after retiring.
"We would always tell him that someone his age running in India would always run the risk of being hit given how reckless the driving here is. This is what ultimately happened unfortunately," said his biographer Khushwant Singh, whose book 'The Turbaned Tornado' documents the celebrated runner's life.
The story - how it all started -
When life typically slows down, especially for those who have been scarred by its many hardships, Fauja's journey of strength began. He was battling his own inner demons as well. Singh lost his youngest son in his mid-'90s, and nothing but running became a source of solace for Fauja.
Fauja started running with a local club in Essex after moving out of India following the death of his wife and daughter.
"The villagers would tell one of his sons to take him to the UK because he would keep visiting the cremation ground and sit there for hours. So, eventually, he moved to Ilford (a town in east London)," said Khushwant.
Once there, Fauja endured another loss before he chanced upon a running club. And what started as a hobby to take his mind off the circumstances that threatened to consume him, became the driving force of his life. He went on to run marathons, including the famed ones in London, New York, and Hong Kong, and inspired awe for clocking some brilliant timings for a 90-plus man born with weak legs.
Honored by the late Queen Elizabeth II -
In the process, he also became a torch-bearer at the 2012 London Olympics and was honored by the late Queen Elizabeth II for his contribution to sport and charity.
"Before that meeting with the Queen we had to repeatedly counsel him 'Baba, Queen naal sirf hath milana hai, japphi ni paani jinwein baccheyan nu tussi paande ho' (Baba, you have to only shake hands with the Queen, don't hug her like you hug kids when you meet them)," Khushwant, whose long association with the centenarian started in 2005, recalled.
"But jokes apart, he was a very resilient man with a lot of earthy wisdom. He could not read in general but could identify numbers because for him they were designs that he had memorised. He was also someone who had no greed. Every rupee he earned by running marathons went to charity. Once he became famous, people would walk up to him to give money even in Gurudwaras but he would straightaway put that money into the donation boxes there," he said.
To the time of breaking records -
A committed runner, Fauja put in a lot of training before each race. His 100th birthday in 2011 was one of his most memorable years. He broke several world records in his age group at an invitational meet held in his honor in Toronto. But since he didn't have a birth certificate to prove his age, Guinness World Records didn't recognize any of these accomplishments.
"He was not bothered by any of that. He just enjoyed the attention that he got. I once asked him 'Baba, maran ton darr lagda? (Baba, are you afraid of death?). He said 'haan, bilkul lagda. Haje te mele shuru hoye ne (Yes, of course. The fun has only started for me)," Khushwant said, remembering one of their conversations.
"He was a simple man but understood with clarity, the importance of fitness and training. Even two years back, he was gracious enough to join a run against drug addiction," he added.
"He travelled the world but never once bothered to ask about who would take care of his stay and other requirements. He just had confidence in the system and so many times, when I was with him, he would simply say 'Sangat saambh laigi' (the community will take care of me)."
Ultimately, Fauja exemplified the very essence of his name—he confronted life's challenges with the resolute determination of a soldier.
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