I started serious walking only after taking voluntary retirement. Nearby, there is a fully enclosed and protected area where the Central Government had constructed quarters for its employees. Although everyone was permitted to enter and use the space for walking, the residents were often bothered by unauthorized, unruly people. To address this, a nominal fee was introduced to verify the identity and genuineness of walkers. Why do people misuse a facility when it’s freely available? My wife managed to get a pass for me after paying the fee, and that’s where my professional walking career began.

We could walk around the periphery of the quarters or on broad roads encircling a park and a few flats. The roads were fully lined with trees, making the walk pleasant. However, there were some issues. Often, a youngster driving a moped or the popular scooty would suddenly cut across without warning, and I narrowly missed being hit several times. Crows would often poop on you! But otherwise, it was fine. If you were to walk on an unprotected open road, though, you needed God by your side. Speed breakers, pits, slush, garbage, mounds, jostling people, and speeding vehicles could make it a nerve-wracking experience. With my limited eyesight, I never found the courage to venture out on such roads.

There were more than a couple of parks where you could go for a walk late in the morning or early in the evening. Why those timings? Work it out yourself. But these parks were neither too near nor too far, so commuting posed a problem. Walking became a challenge for me. At some point, I stopped and began walking in the small front yard of my house or, often, indoors. Listening to music, stothrams, or even audiobooks, I made the best use of whatever was available.

For this reason, I loved the USA. No crowds, broad sidewalks, and a cool climate made me want to walk. Until a couple of years ago, I managed to walk on my own without assistance. Now, my sons accompany me to avoid injuries to both me and others.

My younger son lives in a community setup—not gated, but safe. The sidewalks are clean, with no pits, and walking is smooth. Many residents are aware of my disability and respectfully give me space. You won’t find many people jogging within the community, but occasionally, someone may come up behind you and politely warn, “Please keep to your right, Sir.” Whether known or unknown, every walker you meet will greet or wish you well. However, the experiences I wrote about earlier, like hawkers and playing children, are absent here. Maybe in summer, kids would be playing around.

In such communities, most houses look similar. There are usually three or four models that repeat, and even the color scheme needs approval. Garages must adhere to specific standards. While these regulations ensure uniformity and ease of navigation, they can also create a sense of boredom. Accustomed as we are to asymmetry, such symmetry can feel jarring to our senses. Within the house, the yard is often large enough for walking, and like in Chennai, I may decide to walk in the passages within the house.

At my elder son’s house, there is a semi-private road leading to a wide parking area where I can walk, though it can feel lonely. My son shares one side of the fence with a school that has a huge park—a wonderful place to walk. Wide, clean roads, children’s laughter, parents’ hushed voices, and energy-filled surroundings make walking a pleasure. Sometimes, my son takes me around at night. Trusting him completely, I hold his hand and walk with abandon.

When my sons or other family members are unable to find the time, my wife, despite her troublesome ankle, helps me with walking.

I have to salute my wife, sons, and daughters-in-law for taking me around for a walk. I have their support, and they have me as their baggage!

To be continued... 38: The Art of Spending Time...