It’s raining cats and dogs. There’s a 2-hour traffic jam on both sides of the road, it’d be completely stupid to take an auto or a cab to get to where I want to go. My destination is only slightly over a kilometre away. But I know the walking route is not very well-built, a friend had once tried to walk the same route to get to my place and had informed me of its quality. She’d arrived at my place, very flustered, exclaiming “never again”, even though that was during a relatively better-weather month. I’m very unsure of what I’m about to do, but I’m going for my first drums class, and I don’t want to cancel it. I’ve been looking forward to it the whole day today.
I start walking. It’s not that bad. I’ve got my worn-and-torn shoes on, and there’s enough people doing the same walk I’m doing, dodging the same puddles, using the same stones and bricks for support that I am. Who needs to go to Yosemite when you have this easy-moderate hike right next door to you, I think. I had stopped liking this type of humour for quite a while, but when you start living in India, it’s hard to not to be a bit sardonic sometimes. I’ve grown up in Mumbai, I should be able to do this, I think. But I don’t put my earphones on because I need all my brain-power and focus to not get more mud on myself than I need to. I cover half the route without any major problems. But then the pedestrians start to disappear. I’m a little worried, though I know even in the worst-case scenario, it’ll be like a half-kilometre stretch. There’s a lot more honking. The sidewalk ends abruptly, but I see a man continuing to walk himself and his bike amongst the puddles and the traffic coming from the opposite side. I quickly decide to follow him since I think he might be someone who does this on a daily basis. I feel lucky to have found support before I have the time to regret this stupid walk. He looks behind and catches my eye, we both sigh and then simultaneously smile, frustrated by the weather and the state of our surroundings. I’ve seen Parasite, I know that environmental disasters (big or small) affect the (financially) underprivileged so much more than they affect me.
But right now, purely in this particular moment, we are in the same situation. And I know that our destinations may be vastly different (mine was recreation, his might have been work, I don’t know), but at least in this ten-minute journey, he seems as glad as I feel to have the company.
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