Delirium

Morning Walk Experiences

I am feeling happy to find some new benches in the park. DDA maintains well, I say to myself sitting midst the trimmed green grass under the soothing warmth of the Sun.

Suddenly, I notice four school kids scattered in a square under a nearby tree. They must be X or XII gradies. I am sure since they are discussing something around ‘board exams’. The fact that it is a working day and they are in uniform makes me wonder whether they have bunked their school. Now they started clicking each other’s photos. Yes, they had phones too. Something which was a rarity during my time. So I did not have a craze to bunk school and click with buddies. I mean I was cool in my ways but not cool as them.

A few feet away from me are two dogs sleeping distantly from each other on the damp soil devoid of grass. I look at them as they change their sleeping postures, very much like humans. I wonder, what else they have much to do during the whole day. Or conversely saying, is i

t that those of us who have no work to do sleep like dogs? Suddenly, one of them wakes up and turns his neck towards me. Now that he has seen me staring at him, he turns conscious. Cringing his forehead is much of a human-like expression of perplexity. I look away. And he sleeps again.

A few meters away is another bench where I find a woman meditating. She is in the same place as before when I came here. To see a woman giving time to her health gives me relief. I hope it gives equal relief to everyone in her home, in this patriarchal society. But I doubt if she too would be having a long list of household things for the day like other women.

Whenever I come to park and look around, I get into debates with myself, as if two people arguing over petty matters.

I realize the need to return home. As soon as I reach the long circular track, I decide to stay for some more time. I choose a discarded green bottle as a mark and set the stopwatch on my phone. As soon as the numbers start blinking on the screen, I toss the phone into my bagpack and start running along the track. After half the distance, I start feeling drained. I gasp for breath while my throat is choked. The starting point is quite close but I fear throwing up for panting heavily. My whole body is exhausted and the soothing Sun turns too hot. Drops of sweat start trailing down my forehead. By the time I reach the green bottle, my pace slows down. But I have made it.

I feel heavy pain. I think to relax on a nearby bench, but immediately drop the idea since there is no one nearby.

Where have the students gone? To school? No. They could neither go to school nor home in the middle of the morning when they were supposed to be in their classes, taking lectures.

The woman too has disappeared. Probably to follow the list. But the dogs? They are still asleep. They do not have a list, nor they have to go to school.

My breaths are normal again. But I have to walk for what seems to be a long distance. I feel so dizzy now which makes me wish to have my own scooter.

The exit is a narrow gate which opens to an empty road flanked by a row of dense trees. After the turn, the road seems waking up to life by the movement of infrequent vehicles. I am on my guard when I sense a car slowly moving beside me. And I wonder what do I have in my bag. A yoga mat, a water bottle, and some cash. The car stops and nobody comes out. Maybe they lost the way. But I make a mental note to either carry a knife next time onwards or to learn driving a two-wheeler.

After another turn, I find myself walking along the main road which is buzzing with insane traffic. There in the middle of the track dividing the two lanes, I find a derelict woman shouting, “nineteen hundred seventy-one”, ‘number plate”, Her voice gets louder as I cross the road. “did you see him”, “nineteen hundred seventy-one”. She appears to be mentally disturbed. Maybe she lost someone in an accident. On this road. And she is looking after the car which might have struck her loved one.

I ignore her like everyone else and walk on. When I suddenly realize something.

Is she the same lady meditating in the park? Is 1971 the number I just saw on the car that was running slowly on my side?

As I turn around in suspicion, the woman has disappeared from my field of vision as the road has smoothly curved its way away from the chaos. It was my street.

I hope it does not follow the next weekend.