Fate, Not Time, Outran This Turbaned Tornado

At an age when most people soothe their soles and massage sagging egos, Fauja Singh was lacing up his trainers for another bout with himself, for he was his own rival of his age on the asphalt track.

- HARPREET BAJWA

The tentative strolls in the courtyard were not for him. He preferred the top variant—the marathon, all 26.2 miles of it.

This remarkable specimen of health and determination was a man of contradictions. Until the very end of his extraordinary life, cut short at 114, Singh remained a human paradox: delicate in frame, yet indefatigable in spirit; quiet of demeanor with a thundering legacy. He did not need a stopwatch to run. Time stopped to meet his pace.

Fauja Singh was the youngest of four children. Gallari (talkative), as he was called, was born in Beas village in Jalandhar in 1911. Fragile as a newborn, his parents were worried when he wobbled trying to walk even at five. In the end, it was his legs that would carry him to global fame on their shoulders.

He had an uneventful life, the lone high point being his move to the UK in 1993, after his wife and a son passed away in Punjab. Bent with age and sorrow, he was on the brink of exhaustion. He said to himself, Hello, why am I wallowing in self-pity?