Every morning, at exactly 6:15 AM, Misty Meadows echoed with the sound of shoes hitting the ground rapidly.
Radha would be seen sprinting across the trail around the community every single day. She would wear an athletic outfit, a hair band, earphones plugged in, and of course, her trusty running shoes.
To the residents of Misty Meadows, Radha happened to be a fleeting figure during her runs. She never stopped or slowed down to greet anyone passing by. She did not take a break between her runs.
The children gaped at her as she sprinted across.
It was like a work of art to watch her run. She had the grace of a cheetah in action.
She always ran for exactly an hour.
And at 7:15 AM, she stopped by the banyan tree, sat down on the green wooden bench, her face soaked in sweat. She pulled out her water bottle from the bag around her waist and chugged it down.
She would then swipe through her smartwatch and stare at it with intense focus.
At times, a small smile spread across her face. And at times, she would look disheartened and make a “tsk tsk” sound.
Come rain or sunshine, Radha was unfazed in her consistency.
The elders of Misty Meadows would tell her, “Radha beti, don’t be so hard on yourself. Please take a break every once in a while.”
To which Radha would reply, “No, I cannot afford to take a break. Not until I achieve my goal.”
Despite their repeated words of concern, they all knew that she would remain adamant.
The only thing they could do was to simply pat her back, offer her words of encouragement, and supply her with food whenever they felt like she was overdoing her runs.
The children would sometimes try to race alongside her. They never lasted more than a few seconds.
The residents all had the same question in mind: Why is she so stubborn about not missing her runs even for a single day?
As she sat on the wooden bench every day, her mind would go back to a day from a few months ago.
She could remember every detail, every moment, like it happened just yesterday.
Since she was a child, Radha was heavily inclined towards sports.
She had started her training well before her teenage years. There had been early mornings, long hours of practice, sore muscles, injuries, and a lot of days when she simply wanted to give up.
But she hadn’t.
Years of constant guidance, training, and determination had finally brought her to the qualifying rounds selection to represent the country at an international sporting event.
She had prepared for it for years. She was confident. She knew she could do it.
And then came the day of the qualifiers.
Radha still remembered standing at the starting line, her heart pounding. She remembered the sound of the crowd, the sound of the whistle.
And then, the finish line.
She had missed the qualifying mark.
By ten seconds. Ten seconds.
She could not bear to look into the eyes of her trainer, who held so much hope for her.
That night, Radha packed her belongings.
Within the next few days, she had moved to a small house in a residential community called Misty Meadows, far away from everything and everyone who knew her.
But Radha wasn’t the one to give up so easily.
She did not allow herself even a day of whining and crying.
And thus began her daily runs around Misty Meadows.
Every single day, she timed her runs with razor-sharp precision. She kept a chart and noted down the distance she covered in one hour.
Every day, she tried to go a little faster, a little better.
She was like a woman on a mission. A mission to get back on the field and qualify for the next selection.
The people of Misty Meadows did not know that the woman sprinting past them every morning had spent most of her life chasing a place on the biggest stage of her career.
And neither did Radha offer an explanation.
She simply did not feel the need to.
But that did not deter the residents from doing everything they could to support her.
Radha was consistently hitting her goal for the last few months, and she knew that she would be prepared to face the crowd sooner or later.
The watchman would always keep the gate wide open so that it did not stop or slow her down during the run.
The grocery store owner kept a banana aside for her.
The elders reminded her to rest, even when they knew she probably wouldn’t listen.
The children cheered when she ran past.
Tom Uncle would sometimes clap when she finished.
And slowly, without Radha realising, the people of Misty Meadows became part of her routine.
And one fine day, months later, as she sat down by the wooden bench and looked at her smart watch, she smiled. Not a small smile. A big, wide smile.
The residents gathered around her. They did not know exactly what she had achieved. They simply knew that it was something that Radha had been aiming for months. And that she had finally achieved it.
The place she had come to after one of the biggest disappointments of her life had quietly become the place where she learned to begin again.
More stories from the little community:
People of Misty Meadows #1: The Woman with the Book
People of Misty Meadows #2: The Young Couple with the Laptop
People of Misty Meadows #3: The Girl with the Red Bicycle
People of Misty Meadows #4: The Cheerful Uncle and His Bag of Stories
Before you go…
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Until next time,
The Soulful Nib
The Soulful Nib 