Chalte Chalte – a twist in the tale

So… I got back to the habit of walking and I had chosen a sylvan, serene park for my attempts at keeping fit this time. The park was filled with all kinds of people (What a rare observation! Really!), and every day I seemed to find a new story I could tell. Like a few weeks ago as I was walking a young boy of 11 walked up to me smiled and ran past me, he started waving out to me every round he passed me by after that. I smiled back a couple of times and continued “huffing and puffing and blowing” fat down! I used to meet the little kid everyday and every day I would notice him carefully choosing fallen flowers, neatly stacking them, bundling them up into a bunch and leaving it for me on my ‘rest pause’ bench after my fourth round of the park which is when I took the break. I would take the bunch put them in my pullover pocket and continue my walks.

While it was a pleasant park - it did have its share of imbeciles – there was this dastardly looking middle aged moron who would visually letch n feasting on women who were passing by his so called yoga zone and that particular day - every time I passed by he’d lift his legs up in a rather obscene fashion and let out a cry – idiot!! Three rounds in a row I endured the nonsense gave the ‘he doesn’t mean it’ theory a fair consideration but the fourth round I lost my calm – just when I was in a mood to ask him to mind his own business and spare people a visual treat of his goods the little kid who waved at me came scuttling along and said “hey – is that guy irritating you – don’t you worry! I will protect you” and before I could respond, he ran up to the middle aged moron - eyes screwed, face in a frown, feet full of purpose and hands ready for a war - and in an instance pulled the yoga mat from below him and the guy fell with a thud! I was thoroughly amused. The entire lot that was practicing yoga came to the rescue of the man or the boy I don’t know, my phone rang distracting me for a moment and it was a certain someone’s message and I had to give it my complete attention. Before I finished responding to the message the contingent had left the park. I looked around for them a bit and since I hadn’t yet made friends in the park whom I could gossip with or enquire about an incident such as this – I couldn’t find them.  “That’s that” I thought and I hurried along to finish my walk.

A couple of days and a change of walk area later – I was on my new walking road – I missed the young boy and wondered where I would see him again. Now, as had become my routine in this week’s walk-path I stopped by at the lady who sold flowers outside a school and I exchanged meaningless friendly banter with her. That morning, as I was paying her for the flowers I bought, my eyes suddenly spotted a familiar figure – why it was the middle aged moron indeed! And holding on to his protruding belly for dear life as he track-raced other dads was another familiar figure – “daddy faster! Faster!” pleaded the voice from behind him – as they passed by me I realized, quite to my horror, the dastardly looking middle aged moron who was feasting on the visuals of women passing by in the park was… The kid’s dad!!

I now walk to work in black overalls.