Mukteshwar Musings 1

Every evening we go for a 4 km walk. It is not only our daily quota of 'wellbeing' but also our opportunity to see our neighbours and exchange a nod and the briefest pleasantries. This is much more than what happened in Delhi where we also took a morning constitutional since the lockdown started but passed our neighbours without any acknowledgement.
One evening a month or so back we met a short elderly lady who had just climbed up the hill and had stopped to catch her breath. After the nod of greeting and exchange of 'namaskars', she asked who we were and we showed her our house. She was able to place us now and shared where her house was and who her son's were. And then she reached into her bag and have us two apples. Meetha hai she said and gathering her small jhola walked off purposefully in the opposite direction. Since then we have met her a few more times, and exchanged nods. 

Last week I was a little late in getting out for evening walk, and met up with her. This time we were both walking in the same direction. So we started chatting. She asked me the time as it was getting dark. I asked her where she was going so late. She told me that she was going to meet her sister in law who lived a couple of km away. She asked me if I too was going in the same direction. Her brother in law was very ill and in hospital and she would go and spend the night with her dewran. She did this every few days. Today it was getting a little late and she felt a little unsafe. I said let's walk together and we fell in step. She was a shade under 5 feet and I am a shade under 6 and we walked in step even up the steeper bits. Once we were past a forested climb and on to the main road she told me I needn't come any further and she would walk the rest of the way alone.

A couple of days back I learnt that her brother in law who was in hospital in Bareilly had passed away and everyone was commiserating how he had died even after spending lakhs in treatment. Today evening as I walking back I met her just as she had climbed up to the road from her house deep down the hillside. I stopped to offer my condolences. She reached into her bag, and brought out these hara mirchis despite my protests thrust them into my hands. She then asked me for the time and walked towards her sister in laws. I looked at her diminutive figure walking away, stuffed these green peppers into my jacket pocket and walked home.

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