HUDA and the Taj Gurgaon were about a mile way when an orange Lamborghini Urus roared past us.
Friday night partying? Perhaps. The early mornings on weekends over the years have seen a share of crazy drivers, some very drunk people, puking by the pavement, mascara running and cinematic theatrics, the occasional catcalling egging me on.
On the way back, Coach Ravi started his usual humming which turned into making all manner of Urdu-Hindi poetry impressions – terrible – but we laughed and time passed.
When we arrived back at the stadium, Coach Ravi zoomed off for sports day at his school. Gaju and I had a few kilometres to go that we did in gentle laps in the driveway as the sky turned a soft pink.
Writing about Running 