Urban treks

Walking is a fundamental process for every biped, marking the third stage in their life after crying and crawling. Standing naturally signifies the onset of walking, which becomes a compulsory activity that persists throughout one’s lifetime. Nowadays, people engage in extensive walking to burn body fat, and even in the Olympics, the Walking Marathon is an interesting event.

My personal connection with walking spans decades. Although I was honoured as a senior citizen by the government a decade ago, my enthusiasm for walking has not diminished. In the early 1960s, we had fantastic stretches to walk within the city. Walking through Krishna Rao Park in Basavanagudi, especially on Saturdays, from National High School to back home at Jayanagar was a routine affair. Sometimes I feasted on Vidyarthi Bhavan masala dosa with one of my father’s colleagues, Srinivasa Rao, in the Basavanagudi Co-operative Society. The walks continued in the evenings with my peers to Mango Garden at Jayanagar 7th Block, which is now given away to JSS Educational Institution. Of course, a walk to Ragigudda in Jayanagar 9th block was a cherished route on many evenings. Back then, Hanuman had not landed on Ragigudda. We used to climb the rock, and like us, many other groups also climbed the rock. In fact, I think all our walking gave a strong, flat base to Lord Hanuman. He landed up there in the early 1970s and is blessing us even today.

My walking enthusiasm may pale in comparison to that of cyclists or modern-day two-wheelers, but my experiences now make for a rich memory.

I cannot forget our walk to White Field from Jayanagar. It was in the 1970s, and two rationalists, our own Dr H Narasimhiah and Sri Lanka’s Abraham T Kovoorat, were exposing superstitions and debunking the claims of god men. Of course, Dr HN was my guru at National College. Inspired by his zeal for working in this field, I, along with two of my friends, M K Sheshachala and S Badrinath, undertook a 25-km-long trek from Jayanagar to Whitefield to visit the god man Satya Saibaba’s abode, which took about four hours one way. Unfortunately, we were denied entry to his ashram for security reasons, yet the walk remains a cherished memory, often taking us down the nostalgia path even today. That was indeed a memorable walk.

Another such trek was in the year 2000, during the abduction of Kannada matinee idol, Dr Raj Kumar, by forest brigand Veerappan. We went to our office, HMT Bhavan, near Mekhri Circle without hassles in the morning on our company transport. The return journey in the afternoon was on foot and was far from easy. My friend Shankar Rao and I made the trek of about 13 kilometres in about three hours. Of course, the same was the fate of many of our colleagues and many more across the city.