Darjeeling Da: The Motivation of My Gym Days at Bangalore

After moving to Bangalore, I found myself in a new city, surrounded by strangers and unfamiliar streets. In search of stability and a routine, I joined FZ Fitness Club in Electronic City—thanks to a suggestion from my friend, Biki. Initially, it was just the two of us trying to stick to our workouts. But gradually, the gym turned into something much more than a place for lifting weights—it became a second home filled with friendships I never expected.

There was Dharma, the Kannada coach with a serious passion for fitness. Anuraj, the energetic Goan trainer. Nishat, the arm-wrestling enthusiast from Karnataka. And Shravan, the silent but focused Malayali guy who always trained with quiet intensity. Slowly, everyone became part of my circle.

But among them all, one person left a mark that will last a lifetime—Ruben Lamadey, we used to call him as Darjeeling Da.

He was a Gorkha, proud and strong—not just physically, but in spirit. With a solid build, a heartwarming smile, and the discipline of a soldier, Darjeeling Da stood out as the fittest person in the gym. He was around 38-42 years old, but you’d never guess it by looking at him. His energy, presence, and mindset were that of someone half his age.

One day, while my friend and I were messing up an exercise, he walked over with a warm smile and gently corrected us. That moment changed everything. From then on, we would constantly go to him for tips, and he never turned us away. He explained every movement patiently, and his encouragement became our daily dose of motivation.

He’d say things like:

“Don’t give up, you can do it. Try to control from your brain—if your brain fails, your muscles will fail too.”

"One more rep, you can do it. Push! Push! Push!"

His words stuck with me—not just inside the gym, but in life.

Darjeeling Da had a unique sense of humor too. His Hindi had a charming pahari touch. He’d say “Upar jao” to mean go to your destination and “Niche aao” when it was time to come back. He called every plain surface “mitti”—his own earthy way of seeing the world. His presence brought laughter and life to every corner of that gym.

When the time came for me to leave Bangalore, I went to the gym one last time. That day was heavier than any weight I’d ever lifted. I was emotional. He was too. He said something that broke me inside:

“Whoever does gym with me, they leave someday.”

He asked me to never quit the gym and told me to keep sending him updates about my physique. I tried to touch his feet for blessings, but he humbly pulled me in for a hug instead. That embrace was the goodbye I never wanted.

I may find new gyms, new training partners—but the space he filled in my journey is irreplaceable. The way he supported, encouraged, and believed in us—it felt like I was being guided by my own elder brother.

Whatever progress my body has made, he is the reason behind it. I learnt how to have a gorkha mindset, an never give up mindset.

And even as time passes and places change, Darjeeling Da will forever remain in the top list of my favorite people.

Thank you, Da. I’ll miss you always.

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