New Delhi [India], July 15: On July 14, 2025, Fauja Singh — the world’s oldest marathon runner, and perhaps its most enduring symbol of faith-powered resilience — passed away in his ancestral village, Beas in Jalandhar, Punjab at the age of 114.
News of his death swept across continents like a solemn wind through wheat fields, touching elite athletes, Sikh communities, and global admirers alike. But for Harjinder Singh Kukreja and Harkirat Kaur Kukreja — Indian luxury travel influencers, entrepreneurs, and proud Sikhs — it wasn’t just the loss of a public figure. It was a deeply personal farewell.
“He didn’t die. He simply ran into eternity,” Harjinder said from his family home in Ludhiana, where Fauja Singh had visited less than a year before his passing. “He held our daughter in his lap. My sons stood beside him like they were meeting time itself, wearing a turban.”
That day — a quiet evening in September 2024 — would mark one of the last private visits Fauja Singh made in his astonishingly long life.
A Life of Stillness in Motion
Born on April 1, 1911, Fauja Singh grew up in Beas Pind as the youngest of four children in a humble Sikh farming family. A fragile child who couldn’t walk until the age of five, he was affectionately nicknamed “danda” (stick) for his pencil-thin legs. Few imagined that those same legs would one day carry the spirit of a global community across marathon finish lines from London to Toronto.
After losing his wife in 1992 and a son in 1994, Singh — then in his late 80s — emigrated to the United Kingdom and began running. Not for sport, he often said, but for survival. His first marathon was the London Marathon in 2000, which he completed in 6 hours and 54 minutes — at the age of 89.
By 100, he had run the Toronto Waterfront Marathon in just over eight hours, becoming the first centenarian to finish a full marathon. His best time — 5 hours and 40 minutes — was clocked in 2003, at age 92.
Though the Guinness Book of World Records could not formally recognize many of his feats due to a lack of official birth records (common in pre-Partition India), Fauja Singh didn’t seem concerned.
“The world watched him run. That was record enough,” said Harkirat Kaur Kukreja.
Adidas, Ali, and the Olympics — But No Ego
Fauja Singh’s journey wasn’t just marked by time but by the quiet transcendence of it. He became the face of Adidas’ Impossible Is Nothing campaign alongside Muhammad Ali and David Beckham. In 2012, at 101, he carried the Olympic torch for the London Games.
But despite global attention, he remained disarmingly humble. He never accepted endorsements for personal gain, declined brand deals, and famously adhered to a lifestyle rooted in simplicity: homemade vegetarian meals and no ego.
“He used to say, ‘I run while talking to God,’” said Harjinder. “And he meant it.”
The Kukreja Family Bond
The Kukrejas’ association with Fauja Singh began in 2017, after an introduction through his biographer, Khushwant Singh. Harjinder still recalls his first meeting with Fauja Singh at the marathoner’s house in village Beas. “He had this magnetic silence and yet when he spok,” Harkirat added. “The kind that teaches without speaking.”
That moment marked the beginning of a friendship rooted in reverence. The family visited Singh frequently — over cups of tea in London, spontaneous Facebook Lives celebrating turmeric, and even a quiet charity langar in Southall for his 106th birthday, where he chose to fund meals for children in Malawi rather than celebrate himself.
“He walked into our lives like a whisper,” said Harkirat. “But his presence echoed.”
Their last meeting in 2024 was perhaps the most moving. Singh, then 113, arrived at their home without fanfare. He held five-year-old Rut Suhavi in his arms while paging through his biography, smiling at her questions. Rehras and Aad Sach, the Kukrejas’ sons, stood quietly by, too awed to speak.
“There were no selfies. No press. Just a holy kind of stillness,” Harjinder recalled. “He was like Ardaas in human form.”
More Than a Marathoner
Fauja Singh’s story has always defied categorization. He wasn’t a professional athlete in the traditional sense. He was never a public speaker, politician, or activist. Yet he moved people.
For the global Sikh community, he made visible a faith too often misunderstood. For runners, he became the embodiment of what it meant to love the journey more than the destination. For elders, he shattered the myth that life is a slow fade after 70. And for families like the Kukrejas, he became the living proof that legacy is not built through noise but through pace, grace, and presence.
A Final Farewell
When news of his passing reached the Kukreja family, they sat together in silence. “No one spoke. We didn’t need to,” Harkirat said. Their daughter looked up and asked, “Baba Ji ran into the sky, didn’t he?”
Yes, he did.
Today, the world mourns a man whose final lap was not toward a finish line but toward the infinite. His footprints remain — not just in medal records or YouTube clips, but in memories, in values, and in homes like the Kukrejas’, where his legacy will be retold with love for generations to come.
“He outran time,” Harjinder said. “And now, he’s running with it.”
