The Strength to get Stronger

Writing has proved to be my catharsis through turbulent times in the recent past. Normally, my writing sits with me waiting for the right time to arrive. But today, I need to try and make peace with something that I don’t want to accept. Regret from having left things unsaid; guilt from not having tried harder to keep in touch; and most of all; self-consciousness from attaching undue importance to my feelings, at a time that demands sensitivity to so many others. Without further ado, here is what I want to say.

I crossed paths with Mohit soon after I began college in Delhi. It was a time of exploration for all of us, and Mohit was a true daredevil right from the start. Impressed by his rally driving skills and adventurous spirit, I got into his ‘gangster’ jeep to be dropped home after a late night out in sweltering New Delhi. Please note: there was no air-conditioning in the vehicle. Mohit had no airs, no hangups, and was the most genuine person I’d met (I only realised that later though)

We lost touch and I don’t think it struck me how special he was until many years later when we bumped into one another at Decathalon. Fitness was always Mohit’s preoccupation, but boy had he taken it to a whole new level! He explained how he transitioned from going out and going wild to focusing on being strong. Mohit had taken on the challenge of consistently working to be the strongest version of himself, and he suffered quite a few injuries in his journey but, nothing was going to stop him.

We spent a lot of time together in the years that followed; a love for running and, the mountains made sure we were able to connect often. Over time, he managed to find a space where he could focus on his one true passion and in my opinion, led a slightly hermit-like existence. But despite being isolated physically, Mohit was always present in the minds and hearts of all his (innumerable)friends. Some of us visited him at his home in Kanhatal, where he once spent 12 days alone, restrained by the heavy snow that blocked all the roads.

My two favourite stories about Mohit (amongst so many) are associated with Kanhatal:

1)       Mohit bribed men from the village with bottles of whiskey, to help clear the road of snow. Being a teetotaler, he had no use for the whiskey and just happened to have a carton of it lying around.  It was a win-win situation as he ensured the menfolk stayed warm through the day and the night! And also, extremely happy!

2)      Mohit’s war cupboard – The items in here included a huge packet of trail nuts, some super warm jackets, and a couple of arms (there can’t be a war cupboard without them, and also this is a story for another time). There were some targets and I think an axe. Because what else do you need at an isolated cabin in the mountains, right?

He melted snow for drinking water and, axed dry wood for fires to keep warm - as he had no electricity. I believe he didn’t shower for the entire 12 days and I’m still not sure what he ate, apart from the trail nuts. But he sure did come out stronger and more entertaining than ever. That is the Mohit I will remember forever, a strong resilient individual with a heart of gold.

I didn’t make enough of an effort to keep in touch when he left India, and I keep wishing we’d had the chance to speak in the recent past. But for now, I’ll hang on to hoping I’ll have the opportunity to meet him again someday. And until our paths cross again, his memory stands as a testament to how even the biggest challenges can be overcome with discipline, dedication and will.