lalita iyer musings THE TEDIOUS WALK

Of course, we all had our day of knee-jerk reactions to what Prime Minister Narendra Modiji said. And the memes were hilarious. As an aside, we have such incredible talent that I sometimes wait for these memes. And definitely for the Amul hoardings and the Fevicol ones too. Witty and straight to the point.

After Modiji’s little talk about austerity, we decided not to go on our usual jaunt across the seven seas. Luckily for me, I have no itch to buy gold, even as an investment. So really, I am right at the top of the board where good citizens are apparently meant to be. Not that there are any awards for it.

But I am hugely guilty of not trying hard enough to save fuel. As in, I have not stopped taking the car with vahan chalak to run errands literally down the street.

Several times, at various moments and in varied climes, I have decided to walk to the little mom-and-pop shop nearby. Sachin of MK Stores is friendly and chatty. I usually go only to pick up milk and such things, and then end up discussing why the dals in his store are more expensive than on Amazon. He advised me to buy online. I told you, he was friendly.

The walk within my society is a breeze, apart from a few children speeding around on mini bikes. My frowns do not help. Then suddenly it feels like I have been transported to the Le Mans track, with speeding two-wheelers and huge four-wheelers taking U-turns without signals. I am not even going to talk about the auto chaps.

And this is after merely stepping outside the society gates. There is a little lane before it joins the main road, and this lane is full of hazards. On one side are marble shops. One owner, once chatty and known for collecting old newspapers, has now built a first floor reached through a vertigo-inducing spiral staircase. To display his tiles, he added a ledge. People trip over it regularly. Complaints have happened — written ones, oral ones, inspections too — but he sits there contentedly while the rest of us manoeuvre around the ledge, parked cars and stray two-wheelers.

Then comes the barely-there pavement, provided I am not mowed down by Sabitha Indra Reddy’s entourage. At least when she was in power. I walk ahead slowly, passing men selling guavas, colourful pants and assorted things. I am amazed they are not run over daily. Meanwhile, there are very few mangoes on the tree this year.

Then I must cross a two-way road permanently clogged with angry drivers. It is a nightmare even for traffic cops, especially because one side slopes slightly. I hope you see where I am going with this.

Because even if the distance is barely half a kilometre, there are too many pitfalls, speed breakers and unbearable noise. The noise, really, is the killer.

So, to cut a long and embarrassing story short, I use the car for my tiny shopping trip. Guilty of spending fuel on such a small ride.

But having said that, I still baulk at public transport. There is no bus stop outside my society, though there are three metro stations within two kilometres. Yet the auto fellow sighs dramatically and announces Rs 50 just to reach the station. Getting back home from there is another ordeal altogether. Unless, of course, I ask vahan chalak to pick me up. Guilty as charged.

— Lalita Iyer

Sr. Journalist & Blogger