It's a kicky kind of thing to listen to early morning walkers, catching snippets of conversation as you stride past them. Some walk in twos and some even in groups - guffawing raucously impervious to the bird sounds and the ethereal atmosphere. I for one walk alone - I change pace ever so often. And this is truly mine own time. Just love the lonely roads at this hour as you walk past people intent on redefining their sense of self worth.
One day it could be the GPO road , another time the road down Ladies Club - yet sometimes the uppsy-down Mount Road. I do change routes ever so often. Not for me the regular same old well-trodden paths. These are the roads of my childhood - walking, cycling about the high court circuits lush with tamarind and berry bushes and other foliage, that's all disappeared.. Yet there is good enough greenery here attracting morning walkers from all parts of my town. I am comfortable doing the rounds all over the place and even now I surprise my self with random routes that have me coming upfront with all kinds of people.
The pious bearded seventy plus man in his long gray shirt has been a constant for many years and whenever we cross paths he has started to nod now, as he goes by. Another aging elderly woman is now on smiling terms whenever we happen to chance on each other. There are few who carry religious music on their mobiles that perhaps helps them on. Fat young girls look the other way as if ashamed of doing what they are doing. Then there are those who are oh-so properly attired with the right accouterments as if on a mission. Well I'm on a mission too. I am planning a trek around the Mansarovar Lake in Tibet next year. And so I tread on.
It's the twosomes that are interesting by far. A mother and daughter duo walking on silently. A husband wife team discussing banalities early in the morning. Two balding friends engaged in what else - political gambits.. But these two teenage boys had me smiling this morning as I heard one of them say "Racket change karne se game nahin change ho jata" meaning the game does not change if you change your racket. Whatever that meant, their serious disposition coupled with this early morning mantra got me grinning.
I could almost pitch this as some kind of a philosophy. Perhaps they were badminton or tennis fans and had watched a game the previous night. Its such bits of exchanges that have me contentedly thinking all's right with the world. They think therefore they are. As I walk on past Freemason's Hall, Japanese Garden at the foot of Seminary Hills or along the wondrously smooth clean road down the Chief Minister's bunglaw -- it all comes clear. Yes the game doesn't change even if you change the racket.
