Running a race of life in half pants

I grew up in a small town in India. One of my fondest childhood memories is the harvesting festival held in mid-January. On the day of the festival, farmers thank God for a good harvest, and everyone prays for good fortune. People dress up in nice clothes for this day. Boys, girls, and even adults go to the town's main square, where they perform dances, sing cheerful songs, and play musical instruments. At night, families and communities gather around a bonfire to enjoy the season's harvest. Another highlight of the celebration was the gifts Father gave us: uniforms for the new school year, as well as shoes, socks, shirts, and pants. Before the festival started, my dad bought fabric from a nearby cloth market, and he would take my younger brothers and me to a tailor shop called “Fancy Tailor.” The owner, whose name was Rahman, was very much liked by my father for his sincerity and dedication to his trade.  Rahman, using his measuring tape, measured each of us. Rahman, using his measuring tape, measured each of us. He also showed us different buttons, zippers, pocket sizes, and shapes, and we picked the ones we liked. We often stopped by to see how things were coming along. We watched in awe as the tailors worked, sewing the fabric into shirts and trousers. Our gifts, a pair of shirts and pants, were ready just in time for the big festival. We felt excited as Father unwrapped the gifts. It was like Christmas morning when you wake up and see your gifts under the tree. We wore them proudly and soon headed to the town photo studio for a group picture—the grand finale!  Friends, it was also during this time that I truly learned to appreciate my dad – how much he loved us, and it was when I decided to run the race of my life.

When I grew up, there was no separate middle school. From fifth to tenth grade, we boys studied in the same schoolhouse, which was the high school. There was a school uniform, and everyone wore a sky-blue shirt and khaki pants—either long pants or half pants. Now, what is called shorts here in America are called half pants in India. At that time, most boys in seventh grade wore half pants. But, toward the middle of the year, some boys jumped the gun and started wearing long pants. Wearing long pants meant you were growing up, a big boy, a young adult. Soon, the rest of the kids followed the pack, and I was the only one left still wearing half pants. One day, I told my father about the situation, how everyone was wearing half pants but me, “Dad, can I get the long pants?” I pleaded. He said nothing. I realized I had to endure this humiliation until January.

Soon, all the other boys in my seventh-grade class started picking on me. “How sad, there goes a mama’s boy mollycoddled at home wearing half pants.” - They teased me mercilessly. We boys used to walk from school to home, crossing the sports stadium, courthouse, and the market. I had to endure the humiliation the whole time. I was pretty upset when I arrived home and vented my anger on my mom. “All the other boys are wearing long pants. Why not me? Everyone was laughing at me.” My mom tried to calm me down. “You will get them when your father buys a new school uniform for you.” She tried to reassure me, “You just need to wait,” but I became more upset and started shouting, “My dad doesn’t understand my humiliation, why can't he get them for me now?” She was taken aback and asked, “Do you want to know why? Now sit down.” As I sat, Mom said softly, “Your dad loves the festive season. He likes visiting the local clothing store, buying the materials for you, and watching the tailors at work. He’s been bringing you these gifts since you were five, showing how much he loves you.

Your father cares for you deeply and always wants to see you happy.” Then she said firmly, “Do you want to break his heart because of a bunch of kids at your school?” She walked out of the room as I sat in silence.

The next day, I went to school wearing my khaki half pants. Some of the boys tried to tease me, but I said nothing. When they provoked me again the next day, I still didn’t react. Soon they forgot about my half pants, and everything went back to normal. In the following days, I reflected on the whole incident. They bullied me and picked on me because I looked different. But I stood my ground and grew stronger. Being different can sometimes be an advantage. At school, I was a good sprinter. I could run fast, and I always practiced while wearing half pants. I definitely had an edge over the boys in long pants. I decided to use it to my advantage; “I will compete in my half pants, and I will show them who is the fastest.” I started practicing earnestly.

In October, we held the school sports week. The event took place at the Sports Stadium in front of our school. There was a lot of excitement as girls from a nearby school also came to watch us. The final day featured the 100-meter dash, the most anticipated event of the sports week. A large number of people, including parents, teachers, and the Inspector of Schools, attended the event. I lined up for the race with the other boys. Everyone was wearing long pants, except me - I was wearing my half pants.

“On your marks” – I squatted down and placed my hand on the ground.

“Set” - I leaned into my front right leg.

The Inspector of Schools raised the flag, and we started to run.

I ran as fast as I could; I just kept running. I had a clear advantage in my half pants over the boys in long pants. My heart was pounding, and my breathing was heavy. As the other boys closed in behind me, I sped up. I ran as if there was no tomorrow. I started to hear the crowd cheering on the side of the field, and then I crossed the finish line. I won!

It has been nearly forty years since that memorable incident in my life. My mother's words, “Your father cares for you deeply and always wants to see you happy,” still resonate with me and give me a vital spark in my life. A small spark of belief can go a long way. Friends, once upon a time, I ran a race of life in half pants and won!!

Toastmasters Speech Evaluation by Ron Amberg

Inputs by Amy Nelson

Ankur Bora brought out humor in his speech “My Dad and Running a Life’s Race in Half Pants”. This was the first time he used humor as a primary vehicle to inspire us in his story of how an experience in his youth helped shape who he is today.