‘Turbaned Tornado': Why Punjab and the Sikh world are mourning Fauja Singh

India Today

3 days ago

Fauja Singh's sudden death on July 14 in a road accident near his ancestral village of Bias Pind in Jalandhar has plunged Punjab into disbelief and mourning. The 114-year-old was not just the world's oldest marathoner, but among the last living links to a Punjab that was pre-Partition, pre-industrial and still rooted in oral traditions and agrarian rhythms. The death—he was struck down by a speeding vehicle during a morning walk—has added mythic poignancy to a man who spent three decades outrunning time.To the Sikh world, Fauja Singh was the 'Turbaned Tornado'—the centenarian marathoner who bent the rules of age and identity. To Punjab and the global Sikh diaspora, he was something even deeper: a moral compass, a cultural icon and the walking embodiment of chardi kala—the Sikh belief in eternal optimism. In a state where the youth faces the pressures of drugs, unemployment and despair, Fauja Singh stood for endurance, discipline and clean living. Just weeks before his death, he had led a symbolic walkathon against substance abuse, joined by Punjab governor Gulab Chand Kataria. Even at 114, he was walking with purpose.advertisementPrime Minister Narendra Modi, in his condolence message, said: 'Fauja Singh Ji was extraordinary because of his unique persona and the manner in which he inspired the youth of India on a very important topic of fitness. He was an exceptional athlete with incredible determination. Pained by his passing away. My thoughts are with his family and countless admirers around the world.'Born in 1911 in British India, Fauja Singh lived through empires, wars, migration and tragedy. For most of his life, he was a modest farmer. It was only in his 80s—after losing his wife and a son—that he turned to walking, then running, as therapy. What began as grief management evolved into spiritual clarity and global acclaim.
At 89, he ran his first marathon in London. By the time he turned 100, he had become the oldest man to complete a full marathon, running in Toronto in 2011. Though Guinness declined to certify the feat due to lack of a birth certificate, the world recognised the achievement. As his biographer Khushwant Singh said, 'The legend didn't need paperwork. His steps spoke louder.'Singh's endurance placed him in an elite league of centenarian athletes. Poland's Stanislaw Kowalski competed in sprints and throws past 110. Japan's Hidekichi Miyazaki, nicknamed the 'Golden Bolt', ran 100m races at 105. Thailand's Sawang Janpram, now 105, still dominates masters track events. Australia's Henry Young, 101, plays competitive tennis with two knee replacements. But what set Fauja Singh apart was the global stage on which he competed—and the cultural force he became. Good enough to become global icon for Sikh diaspora.And rightly so. Unlike others who participated in niche age-group competitions, Fauja Singh ran major marathons—New York, London, Hong Kong, Edinburgh—alongside elite athletes a fraction of his age. Biographer Khushwant Singh had said he didn't race for money or fame. He ran for causes: disaster relief, cancer research, orphaned children. He refused appearance fees, declined sponsorships that clashed with his ethics, and gave away most of what he earned. When asked why he ran, his reply was simple: 'To feel closer to the One above.'Fauja Singh's turban and white beard made him instantly recognisable. His folded hands at finish lines became iconic. In a post-9/11 world where Sikh identity was often misunderstood or misrepresented, Fauja Singh quietly changed perceptions. Without delivering speeches, he embodied grace, humility and strength. He carried Sikh identity on his shoulders across continents—and into hearts unfamiliar with Punjab or its ethos.advertisementHe also inspired many. Fellow centenarian sprinter Man Kaur, who raced into her 100s, often called him her role model. Sikh athletes like Harmander Singh, who trained with him in London, recall his discipline and serenity. Thai, Australian and American masters athletes cite him as proof of what the ageing body can still do—with faith and discipline.His routine was remarkably simple: vegetarian. Relied on dal-roti, fruits, no processed food, lots of water. Like a devout Sikh, his close aide would tell you that he meditated daily and followed a strict schedule. Despite receiving the British Empire Medal and being an Olympic torchbearer in 2012, they added, his humility never wavered. In 2005, Nike featured him in its 'Impossible is Nothing' campaign.His death has sparked an outpouring of grief—and gratitude. Gurdwaras across Punjab and diaspora communities in Canada, the UK, US, Australia and Kenya (where he lived briefly) have held ardaas (prayers). In Bias Pind, villagers recall his warmth, his readiness to bless newborns, his eagerness to keep walking. On social media, younger generations—many of whom never met him—have posted tributes calling him 'Grandfather of Endurance' and 'Living Legend, Now Eternal'.advertisementThere is also renewed interest in his cinematic legacy. A Bollywood biopic, Fauja, was announced in 2021 by director Omung Kumar and producer Kunal Shivdasani, based on Khushwant Singh's book The Turbaned Tornado. After years of delay, the project may now find momentum. With its themes of grief, resilience, transformation and spiritual strength, the story holds universal appeal—especially in a country redefining its ideas of ageing, fitness and purpose.There's a story he once told during a marathon in Hong Kong. When asked what he thinks while running, he said, 'Waheguru. Every step is a prayer.' Now, as Punjab grieves and the Sikh world reflects, those footsteps echo louder than ever. Not because he was fast. But because he never stoppedSubscribe to India Today Magazine- Ends