Written for Write Tribe Festival of Words Day 3 - Prompt Free write. I missed out on Day 1 and Day 2, but after reading the posts I was tempted to try this one. So at exactly 11:45 pm, I played "Pitbull Get it Started ft Shakira" in the background and kept writing on a topic that came first to my mind.
On a cool wintery evening in Jorhat, I was crossing the road, hurriedly walking towards my Physics tuition class when suddenly out of no-where someone somewhere shouted – Saavdhaan (attention). Immediately like a robot, I stopped. Ask any Army School passout, they can explain how ingrained this command is in their minds.
It took me a while to realize that I was standing right in the middle of the road, and few students were literally RORL (rolling on road laughing) since my walking speed was almost crossing the speed of light.
It was obvious that I, along with my best friend, were known as the Rajdhani express in school. As soon as we walked out of the class, up the stairs and all the way to the library, I would see guys and girls, tall, thin and short, running helter-skelter, clearing our way, just in case we hit and trample them with our hyperspeed walk-o-nator. It took more than courage for guys to approach us, as the wind caused by our sudden movements would often threaten to blow away stick-sized puny humans. One of the hazardous activities on the notice board was to tempt me with a walk-a-thon.
My college friends would hold my hand to keep the speed in control. But I would stumble and fall since slow walking felt like a Binding Curse. My poor legs would beg to be freed, to walk till they hurt, to break heels and create innumerable holes in my shoe. I must have repaired every footwear atleast 3 times before the exasperated cobbler would himself offer me to buy me a new one.
Maybe this is one of the reasons why Tooti chappal syndrome hits me all the time. Two tubes of fevi-quick are a permanent fixture in my bag.
Time changed, place changed, footwear changed, but seems my inhumane walk-o-nator is still hell bent on crossing the light barrier, which is a plus point if you are trying to survive a zombie apocalypse. Else the toll it takes on your adorable kitten heels is heartbreaking.
Usually I would be loaded with 4 bags of grocery, along with my handbag when returning from office. My heels would clack against the cemented pavement while I would be trying my best to reach home, walking in as lady-like fashion as possible. Next time you hear a loud click clack storming the road, know that “Rajdhani on heels” is on her way.
All images - from Google