Out and about for my not-so-usual evening walk after the usual grind of fixing bugs and leaving more. As I step out of my quarter into the concrete jungle, I see wild, electrical animals zip across the narrow lanes of dubious construction. No birds for me please, my ears crave “peep-peep” - the orgasmic oeuvre of honking horns. No trees for me please, my eyes love getting blinded by the yellow lights. No flowers for me please, my nose is accustomed to the burnt, metallic aroma of petrol.
Get out of my way! I am in a hurry. Get out of my way! I have someplace to be. An army of rotund potbellied uncles on tiny metal chariots convey with their scorn. I hurriedly step aside, lest they attack. You gotta be careful - roads are not for walking.
As I walk on I am flabbergasted by the complete absence of children. Oh wait, I did spot one—but he was also riding a metallic beast. These small kids are like piranhas - very unpredictable drivers. You gotta be extra careful. Roads are not for walking.
But these roads were my childhood. We used to play all day long, with only the occasional bike interrupting the fun. That’s impossible now—unless you have a death wish. I don’t think the kids regret it though. They don’t know what has been taken from them. Much like me, they are too busy swiping left, right, and center for the next पेशकश. Content is king, and we are its slaves.
So yeah, after a few steps, I decided to turn back and get my hellrider. Roads are not for walking, much less for loitering, and even less for playing. Through the sea of dust, dirt, and the occasional assault of the speed bumpers, I make it to the overcrowded park in search of some relief. I carefully walk on the designated path as the grass is fenced off, lest we dare touch it. 10 minutes more to go and you will make it to 10k, flashes my metallic collar. Gotta hurry!