Walking the talk

When I moved to Bangalore a few years ago I didn’t exactly have a svelte waistline. In the flush of moving to a new place and also to impress my new neighbours I made a resolution of going for morning walks daily.

First, I needed to take care of my sartorial requirements. I had plenty of multi-hued T-shirts free of cost courtesy my company. The Camel outlet in Jayanagar solved my shorts problem, though my wife did give me a strange look seeing me in knee length cargo style shorts. I pretended to ignore her.

One day a Mr. Raghu accosted me outside my apartment. Do you walk every morning he queried? Yup, I answered in a smug voice presuming my athletic build impressed him. Why don’t you join our walking group he suggested? Well, there was nothing wrong with that idea as having company did add interest to a walk. Also, a walking group sounded very professional. So I immediately acquiesced and thanked him for the invitation. He asked me a strange question after that. Do you have a car? Sure, I said. Let’s meet tomorrow morning at six sharp in the car park, he continued.

The next morning I was in the car park well in time for the assignation. Raghu came in a few minutes later along with two cohorts whom he introduced as Ramesh and Ashok. I was informed  that we were heading to Lal Bagh. I was quite impressed at their dedication because Lal Bagh was at least three kilometres from our building. To my surprise, Ramesh opened the door of one of the cars and the gang got in and signaled for me to get in, too.

As this was my first trip with the group I decided to be friendly and asked the obvious question. Do you think it will rain today? There was a stony silence till we reached Lal Bagh West gate. After a bit of light limbering exercise we began our walk through the park. I wanted to walk briskly but seeing that the rest of the group was strolling leisurely I had no option but to slow down.

We finally came out of Lal Bagh Main Gate. My companions crossed the road and we arrived at Mavalli Tiffin Room (MTR). In spite of the crowd the group managed a table. Very soon we had a repast of Khara Baath, Rava Idly and Puri/Palya washed down with a hot cup of strong coffee. Ramesh then excused himself and exited. By the time we had paid the bill and came out he was waiting in his car. We returned home.

For the past five years this has been my routine. Each of us takes turn to bring his car. The families think we are sweating it out in Lal Bagh but are a bit surprised that our respective waistlines don’t seem to reduce.