“I will have to check up whether footpaths are mandatory in the city of Mumbai” said Bombay Municipal Commissioner, Subodh Kumar. I knew all along that this would come to pass. Wondering if the city needs footpaths at all is just too much to digest. As it is, people walk a tightrope between roads with a heavy onrush of vehicles and the basket of brinjals that the neighbourly vegetable seller has in front of him. Sometimes it is the vehicles on one side and, what meets the eye on the other side, makes one think longingly of the brinjal basket.
Crossing roads always makes me wish that I lived on the other side. I’ve stood for long minutes on one side only to suddenly find that rickshaws and other two wheelers have started going from behind me. “You have already crossed the road”, my sister used to tell me. My paranoia for these moving death traps has only increased with age. The man behind the wheels cannot empathise with my trying to get somewhere. How can I expect it when he does not accommodate even a sick and dying man in an ambulance? He does not heed the siren which is an appeal to let it pass unhindered. The other vehicle has more urgent pressing matters on hand. People can take their time to die. It shows sheer lack of sense to want to be rushed in an ambulance during peak hours. Even if the ambulance has managed to get ahead, the other vehicles will stick close to it and take advantage of its presence. So who are we on foot to demand for footpaths? No Mr. Commissioner, it is not a walkover for us who try to vend our way each day in a rush of fumes and foul smells. The sky walks overhead are also not the answer for the feeble of heart. Each step up the stairs takes the old and weary pedestrian closer to the skies.
The two wheeler which streaks across the road is built for totally decimating the wannabe road crosser. The rider is also conveniently masked in his helmet so that any nascent desire to get to the other side before his machine is quelled in the bosom of the pedestrian. How can I, with no wheels demand right of road when the masked man on wheels zigzags his murderous way? No Mr Commissioner, why do we need to walk on roads? You expect us to only go in circles in a narrow path in a park. No oncoming traffic to worry about. But do we have to contend ourselves with only smelling the roses? Go and see how a man in Paris can read a book as he walks to the nearby Métro station. He does not have to be on high alert all the time. And you say that you have to check up if we really need footpaths. You would do better to stop the brinjal seller from encroaching on what is rightfully mine.
I often see an old man who lifts his walking stick menacingly and keeps his arms outstretched when he wants to cross the road as a trapeze artiste or a tightrope walker would do. When I want to go out on some errand, my eyes search for this old man. My fate is linked inextricably to that of this old man as I match my step to his and cross the road with him. The day he dies, I die too. You Mr Commissioner, can, in the meantime, go measuring the width of roads and proving to us how we must all walk single file, much like pirates walking the plank. I will go and measure for my coffin.
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