It’s not surprising that while walking, we come across so many characters. Let’s not forget—we are one of them too. There’s so much to observe.

I never used to talk to anyone while walking. I might pause to stop and chat, but never while on the move. There was a group of four women walking briskly and talking, whom I would meet without fail at the midpoint of my walk. The Secretary of the Association of Government Apartment Dwellers, in whose compound this walking trail was located, was always accompanied by a Senior Government Official, seemingly discussing important matters every day. Then there was the mini tennis academy with a grand single court where kids were being trained to become future Wimbledon champions. I often saw the kids being asked to run around the court, only to start strolling as soon as they reached the other side, then sprint the last few yards back.

The hawker with a gargantuan basket on his head would shout at the deepest and highest decibel levels about the wares he was selling. It’s funny; none of these hawkers ever seem to say anything clearly understandable. Only through association and experience can you tell what they’re selling. One guy would shout “Ayyappaaa,” which turned out to mean he was selling “Idiyappam.” During the pandemic days, another hawker would shout “Pogathey,” which in Tamil means “don’t go.” I thought he was warning us to stay indoors, but it turned out he was saying, “Sofa repair.” I have no intention of making fun; this is just an observation. It’s their style and unique trademark that sets them apart. And come to think of it, do these guys need walking or exercise? Feelings of pity wash over me, yet shouldn’t we all be proud? They are doing honest, self-respecting work. Kudos to them for making our lives comfortable through their toils.

Then there was the retired banking guy who would walk a few steps, jog a few steps, and complain about the inadequacy of his pension. The early morning gully cricketers played their match so seriously that I couldn’t help but watch for a few minutes. There was also a short, stout, and heavily built former army driver who walked as if a road roller was moving. And one unforgettable occasion when, out of nowhere, a constable appeared before me, saluted, and asked, “Are you not the Assistant Commissioner Mr... so and so, Sir?” Whaaat? With my short height and puny body, did I appear so? I had to congratulate myself!

When I returned after these early morning adventurous and eventful walks, around 7:30, I could see the sun in all its glory, radiating benevolence, power, and energy, promising that the day would be bright and happy.

To be continued... Part 3.