Ramblings of a caged bird

I smiled as I walked out. Blue skies, not a cloud in sight, cool weather and the glimpse of sunflower yellow slats peaking through the eggshell blue – it was going to be a beautiful day. 

Lacing up my sneakers and fastening my watch strap, I got into the car with my partner in crime making my way to my favourite place.

Morning walkers dotted the roads, lycra clad cyclists, and runners clad in sweat made a colorful medley on the open street with the crash of the waves against the tetragon shaped concrete blocks.

It had been 6 months since I was here. I was overjoyed, the pandemic and media having imbibed gripping fear in me, I had avoided my usual Sunday morning haunt for what seemed like years to me.

Deciding to venture out of my comfort zone, and with not a soul in sight, I ran up the the colourful clad steps getting in my first steps of full blown cardio in the open air after ages. I decided to race up the slope and do several rounds of sprints. Red faced and out of breath, I made my way to another set of empty steps, engulfed by a canopy of trees with naturally inclined ramps and completely vacant except for the cacophony of birds, and my furry four legged friends (the cousin of the infamous rats), for company. 

To be in a dense urban jungle, and have absolutely no one inhabit this wonderful space was a miracle. Practicing my sprints and getting out was delightful (especially with my partner in crime for company).

St. Stephen’s Steps, Bandra

Making our way back with the new normal (masks covering our faces), it didn’t feel like I was caged and trapped anymore.

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