At
about seventy feet, one does get to notice a lot of what goes on, on
the ground below. My builder built my brother and me to contain five
storeys each. I know five storeys is not too tall, especially when
standing beside a family of eleven storey buildings. But my creator
is a stickler to rules, so there was no way he was going to venture
beyond the stipulated height for building near the airport. That the
creator of the other family dared to do it is a different story. My
builder would not dream of it.
To
say the truth, I am glad he kept us at five storeys, because, at this
height I can view things both above and below, quite clearly. I am
sure the eleven storey folks would have trouble discerning what is
happening on the ground. But us, we get to see everything as clearly
as on the newest fifty three inches high definition LED TV that Mr.
Mehra has bought. The latest model in market, which has so many
features that I am sure Mr. Mehra has deciphered not even five
percent of them. Why he wants such a big TV in the first place is a
mystery in itself, given the fact that he and his wife are hardly at
home. Nevertheless, there it is, the sleek, stylish, glistening black
coloured TV, occupying the place of pride in the living room.
However,
Mr. Mehra's TV is not what I want to talk to you about today. Though,
I do keep a tab of what new appliance or furniture comes in or goes
out of every home inside me. With about sixty families living inside
me, I get quite a lot of entertainment to keep me busy throughout the
day... and night. My builder may be a sticker to rules, but he
certainly didn't stick too much to quality, and as a result my walls
are not so soundproof. Neighbours get to hear what goes on in each
others homes, and I get to hear what goes on in every home.
Therefore
I am privy to the fights, romances, dramas, conspiracies, arguments
and everything that happens in all the sixty families housed in me.
Now, don't get me wrong here. I am able to listen to and see
everything does not mean I misuse the information. Like the priest
who listens to the secret confessions of people seeking redemption
and locks all the secrets in the deepest echelons of his heart, I too
bury all that I hear deep inside my foundations. Though I must admit,
they all make up for good entertainment material.
Of
all the things that take place in and around me, there is one
occurrence that intrigues me to no end. To the extent that I wake up
right at the break of dawn to witness it. Every day, just as the
first bird starts cooing, Pradeep from 503 comes out of his home,
clad in tracks and t-shirt, walking shoes from Reebok on his feet,
Bose earphones connected to his I pod. He then starts
circumambulating my brother and myself, round and round and round,
for nearly an hour. The first day I saw him, I thought he was
searching for something. Probably something Aryan, his son, left
lying outside while playing the previous day. But he does the same
thing everyday, walking at a furious pace, as if in a marathon. And
right behind him, some twenty minutes later, Latha from 401 marches
on.
As
the day blossoms the number of 'circlers' increases. People walk
around the compound anywhere from thirty minutes to two hours.
There's Shaji aunty, tottering slowly on her arthritis affected
knees, swaying her heavy torso dangerously like a spinning top coming
to a halt. It is a miracle that she doesn't lose her balance and fall
off. Then there's Malhotra, the slick and stylish corporate guy whose
every clothing and accessory reeks of money. He walks quite fast, as
if in a hurry, all the while talking very seriously and excitedly
over the phone. He says he walks to keep his heart in good condition,
but I don't understand how the tension and excitement he usually is
in when he walks, help the heart. Godbole uncle always comes clad in
his kurta pajama, with his walking stick handy, and has a nice
relaxed way of walking that I like. He breathes in the fresh air,
relishes the pleasant early morning breeze, and has that serene and
fresh smile on his face. That is how I believe walking should be.
It
is no secret that all these people are walking for health reasons,
because I hear each and everyone rave about it in their homes and
with their neighbours. However, the way each one goes about it makes
me smile sometimes, and at times, cringe. I see young ladies like
Sumitra and Prachi, new mothers, walking quite fast, anxious to lose
their post-pregnancy fat, with their babies. The baby is usually in a
pram which they push using one hand, while the other hand holds a
phone to their ears into which they talk anything and everything from
relationships to gossip. I feel so sorry for the baby which looks
around in fear and confusion at the fast changing scenery around it.
Is
walking not supposed to be in a relaxed free manner, so that the
fullest benefits of the exercise can be reaped? However my walkers,
most of them at least, walk with various thoughts and plans and
emotions brimming in their heads. Old ladies think about their bahus'
(mis)deeds, young ladies think about their sasus' atrocities.
Girls walk thinking about their love interests, and professionals
like Malhotra walk thinking about the economy and stock market.
Hardly anyone enjoys the actual act of walking, the burning of
calories, the intake of fresh oxygen and the music of chirping birds.
Except, as I said before, Godbole uncle. But then, I guess he is able
to relish it all since he is past most of the worries that others
have.
I
used to wonder why these people circumambulate us. None of our
predecessors had experienced anything of this kind. Isn't walking in
a joggers park or a beach more enjoyable? Then it slowly dawned on me
that my residents circle me as they do not have anywhere else to go.
Joggers parks are few and far between and the roads are best avoided
if one intends to walk for health, thanks to the traffic and noise,
and of course the lack of footpath for pedestrians. So people are
left with no choice but to turn their apartment premises into walking
paths and march on unwavering, as the parked cars and motorbikes look
on with sleepy eyes. In South India people circumambulate the
presiding deities in temples so that God would answer their prayers.
Maybe these 'circlers' also go around us, praying for a good park to
come up for them to walk in instead. But neither am I a deity, nor
can I do anything about it, except praying with them. For now, I
simply watch them, have fun looking at their gaits, enjoy the steamy
gossips thought streams and gossips and start each day with something
quite similar to a riveting episode of a soap opera.
Notes:
Bahu –
Daughter-in-law
Sasu –
Mother-in-law
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