I can see darkness in that narrow space and I wonder if anything’s lying there – Times of India
It is about a boy with large dreams, ready to defy his father’s wishes, and make it big in the high-stakes world of sports. ‘The Prodigal Sprinter’ is about a young athlete who dares to defy expectations and makes his own path in the world of sports by following his love for Sprinting.But as he sprints towards glory, he must also not forget his past, not give in to the pressures of the present, and the uncertainty of his future.
Here we present an excerpt from the book with due permission from the publisher ‘Purple Pencil Project‘.
Excerpt
July 2024, Paris
“ATHLETES! TO YOUR STARTING BLOCKS!”
The voice boomed over the stadium speakers, yet barely audible to the athletes on the track over the deafening roar of the crowd. The stadium pulsed to the sound of the collective chants, like a big beast had come to life. The stands look like they were painted in a riot of colours of people’s clothing, the waving national flags, and gigantic sign boards. People of all ages, ethnicities, backgrounds, nationalities, were out of their chairs, screaming at the top of their lungs in anticipation of what was to come in the next few minutes. It felt like an epic battle scene from a superhero film, except that this wasn’t computer-generated or graphically programmed; it was the coming together of a trifecta-human beings, emotions and raw lung power.
The energy was electrifying. The audience capacity of over 80,000, though significant by itself, felt multiplied by many times with the magnitude of the collective sound they were making. A passing spaceship would be forgiven to mistake the majestic Stade de France in Paris as a gigantic speaker blasting at the highest volume.
The chant of “USA! USA!” reverberated throughout the stadium, which wasn’t surprising. They were the most dominant country on track and field and had two athletes competing in the 2024 100-metre Olympic finals. On the other hand, the Jamaicans were trying their hardest to drown out the American chants to the musical rhythm of “JA-MAY-KA!”
The fans of each country now took on the challenge. “E-TAL-IA” faintly made its way over the din during the chanting interludes. Somewhere, you could make out an ever-increasing “Indiaaaaaa… Indiaaaaaaa… Indiaaaaaaa… Indiaaaaaaa. Jeetega bhai Jeetega, India Jeetega,” screamed a large group of Indian athletes and the contingent sitting in the crowd.
The announcer tried again to speak over the crowds, this time in a much firmer and louder voice, “ATHLETES TO YOUR STARTING BLOCKS PLEASE.” Like a musical conductor had just waved his wand, this time the announcement seemed to have its desired effect. The chanting ceased and a collective “Sssshhhh” filled the night air as 80,000 mouths locked their upper and lower teeth and let out a jet stream of air from their lungs into the gaps of their jaws and teeth. The shushing grew quieter and died down and the stadium was brought to an unimaginably eerie silence. A few isolated smart alecs screamed and whistled, but that did not spoil the purity of the silence as the eight athletes settled into their starting blocks.
The seconds ticked by as each of them rested their spikes against their self-adjusted starting blocks. Their thumbs and two fingers rested on the white line that symbolised the starting mark. The hush was surreal with even the most inebriated of sports fans respecting the gravity of the moment the finals of the 100-metre sprint at the Olympic Games of 2024. The sport that brought this tournament to birth, 3000 years ago.
“Get set…,” said a steady voice over the microphone as I lift my rear in near-perfect unison with the other athletes.
My body weight is evenly distributed, between my feet resting on the blocks and my fingers, which struggle not to twitch. My head is bowed down with only one thought, Don’t false start, don’t you dare false start, just explode after you hear the gun. A solitary bead of sweat makes its way from my forehead to the tip of my nose, tickling my cheek.
