My pedestrian life!

If my feet narrated the story!

Pedicured, we shone brightly in flip-flops. Fellow feet, the jealous ones, watched our rainbow-hued nail polish. We dabbed our glow on the floor mat and had dust rubbed on us in the parlour. We carried the dust through a flea market in our society in Bangalore, smeared ourselves with some tomato puree. We, in a new red, jumped over a speed bump nearby and broke a nail on the toe. With a broken nail, we kicked a football on our way and got our toes swollen. We then tossed the raindrops into a puddle, and we got soggy. Our broken, swollen, soggy selves walked through sand and grass, adding more colours to us, our feet. By the time we reached home, we needed a good bath.
After some quick rest in bed and chairs, we slipped into sneakers to stroll through the streets of Bangalore. We walked past a puddle, pebbles, and a pile of garbage. We swirled in smoke and heat. We saw the lights, cars, and scooters pass by us. Little puppies crawled around us. We stood under the shade of trees. We walked over the flyover. We leapt toward the Momo stall. We paused at Chaat Bhandar.
We smelled the freedom wafting in the air far away from the concrete walls. We felt the beauty. No beauty parlour could bestow that feeling. We raced on roads until we were hurt.
We learned to nestle in a mad rush. We taught ourselves to be on the white lines. We stayed away from the red light. We leaned towards the green light to cross the lane. We understood the rules of the road in Bangalore.
Some feet, unlucky ones, got locked up in the doors of the cars. Winds didn't caress them. Sunlight didn't touch them. They moved faster than they could.
Some other feet chose crowded buses. They learned about city manners there, when to step in and where to step out.
We loitered around the skyscrapers, lakes, and gardens. We roamed free, conquering the busy roads of Bangalore city.