By Dr. R. Balasubramaniam

A morning walk begins as a routine. You put on your shoes, step out and hope the world is still quiet. Yet the same walk shifts its tone when you move between Mysuru and Delhi. The body may do the same thing, but the surroundings insist on their own script.

In Mysuru the walk moves at a pace set by a city that prefers to take its time. People drift into the morning as if the day has agreed not to hurry. Walkers greet one another without any rush. A few pause to look at the trees as if they have all morning to continue. The city keeps you in a rhythm that is neither fast nor slow. It simply is.

Delhi in the morning demands more preparation. You take a breath and feel the weight of the air. You check the sky and hope the AQI numbers on the phone will not deter you. Walkers move with a sense of purpose. Masks stay on. Steps stay firm. You can sense the push between wanting exercise and wanting to finish before the air gets heavier. Yet the parks are full. People walk anyway.

Across both cities you meet the familiar cast. The young walkers move as if their day has already begun. They keep to their lanes and rarely look left or right. The elderly keep a steady rhythm refined through long practice. They have claimed their path and you simply follow the gaps they leave behind. The lone marathoner appears and disappears at intervals. You see them pass you once, twice and sometimes again. Their stride remains steady. Yours does not.

Then there is the laughter group. A circle of older walkers stands together and bursts into sound. There is no visible cause. They laugh again. You watch them and wait for an explanation that never arrives. You move on still hearing the echo behind you and still unsure if laughter at this hour is a warm-up or a ritual.

Some mornings you come across a set of elders trying out yoga. They start with the simple postures. Then a few try something a little more ambitious. Soon someone twists beyond what the rest of the body seems to approve. A helper steps in and gently untangles a limb that has taken an unplanned direction. The group continues without comment. You look away because you are unsure whether to be impressed or concerned. They carry on as if this is routine. They may be right.

The walk feels different in each city. In both places, the walks register the same data on my watch. Steps. Distance. Heart rate. The device notes only the measurable. It misses the rest. It misses the slow drift of Mysuru. It misses the determined stride of Delhi. It misses the laughter group that refuses to explain itself. It misses the yoga elders who need occasional assistance to return to a                                               normal angle.

Every city leaves a mark on its morning walkers. Each brings its own order and its own chaos. The walkers adapt and carry on. Yet I still hope for two simple changes. One day I want a dog and monkey free walk in Delhi. A walk where you look ahead without scanning for movement near your feet or above your head. And one day I hope Mysuru will give us a smooth and clear walking track. A path that lets you walk without watching for uneven patches or unexpected dips.

Till then the morning walk remains a study in contrast. Different cities. Different rhythms. Different companions on the path. The body does the walking. The city sets the tone. And the watch records only the part that can be counted. The rest stays with you.

[Dr. R. Balasubramaniam is the Founder of Swami Vivekananda Youth Movement (SVYM). ‘The Lighter Side’ is a series of satirical articles meant to bring a smile by highlighting the funny side of everyday life.]