WACKO WALKERS

Sitting in Padmasana on a park bench, he covers his eyes with both palms and sobs in silence. Thereupon, with his fingers, he plucks some imaginary stuff from his eyes and ‘tosses’ it into the air before breaking into a broad grin. This bizarre drill apparently illustrates a yoga exercise that helps its practitioner get rid of his worries. Welcome to the Bangalore's park where weirdos of every stripe wander in and out unhindered.

As it happens, the park benches are as often patronized as the walking tracks. This is where the 'Shavasana' buff lies supine like a corpse and eventually drifts off into deep slumber. For him, it is merely an extension of his night's sleep post-intermission. His 'morning walk' ends when the park's care-taker wakes him up as a prelude to locking the gates.

The burgeoning parks across the city have spawned many such wackos who make the morning walkers' day. Take for instance, the insatiable Mr. ‘Gorging’ George. At first he loiters around the park chatting with a few windbags . Then he barges into the nearest restaurant and stuffs himself silly on idli-vadas. He doesn't exercise. To make him bend over, you would have to put diamonds on the floor! His motto: After loafing goof a while, after chatter eat a pile.

The ‘Trailing Wife Pageant' is one more amusing sight. Here, a young lanky husband walks at a blistering pace followed by his pint-sized chubby wife trying to keep pace with him. Possibly, this is his way of getting even with her for making him run after her during their pre-nuptial days.

If you visit the park at 5 A M, you find a few zombies who are at the fag end of their walking schedule. They might be either the insomniacs who entered the park by jumping the fence or the ones who slept inside the park overnight to outsmart the insomniacs. At least some of them could be the somnambulists (sleep walkers) who went missing from their beds after midnight.

'Deaf Adders' are the most common species that haunt our parks. You recognize them by the swaying of their heads or snapping of their fingers. They are deaf and oblivious to your approach from behind due to their being plugged on to the ipod. All you got to do, then, is to cough or clear your throat loudly and you get your right of way.

As you come out of the park, you find on the road a man shouting, "Stop Bruno..you bad boy..", as the Great Dane drags him on to a dunghill. Both the dog and his master are on their morning constitutional and it looks unclear who is taking whom for a walk. Moreover, it seems to me that the city dogs can understand only English!
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