unit 10

#1. One of my favorite pastimes has always been walking. To me, it's the start of a journey.

#2. I appreciate the physical sensation of walking because of the movement, rhythm, and undulation of the senses that body causes.

#3. I used to enjoy demonstrating how fast and unflappably I could walk vast distances when I was young  wandering on unpaved and uneven roads, such as the ones near my mamaghar.

#4. However, in Kathmandu at that time, finding such trails was not difficult. Running down the slopes behind my house was one of my most distinct recollections in my memories.

#5. I'd start by taking the tiniest steps to stabilize myself, then break into a sprint without even realizing it until you fully lost control of your body.

#6. I'd be in such a rush that I couldn't feel I got to the bottom. Even a ride on the most gorgeous and sophisticated roller-coaster will never be able to match it.

#7. My adventures changed as I grew older, taking on new shades and nuances and walking had become more of communal pastime in recent years. I started walking home with my friends from school when I was in my teens.

#8. We mostly walked after the buses had departed and we had lingered back for some after-school activity, so it was a form of tiny disobedience. 

#9. Staying back after school made us feel mature in and of itself, but it was our choice to take the long journey home that made it appear like a protest.

#10. We were free-willed rulers of our time during such walks, we used to rebels against our structured schedule. We wanted to go our own way, so we took shortcuts.

#11. My life changed dramatically after I graduated from high school and relocated to a new nation.

#12. I walked again in the different nation, this time was to learn more about this strange planet. 

#13. On summer days when the temperature reached forty degrees, I would take my time walking from school to home.

#14. This period of solitude gone down a peaceful residential lane lined with jasmine vine-covered fences until I reached the main road and the amusing collection of stores: A wedding-cake business; a rather run-down second-hand clothing store with aspirations to be something more glamorous; a barbershop.

#15. Institutions had lost their luster and were being phased away in favor of nicer retailers and boutiques. 

#16. I'd take a stroll along the more interesting Norton Street, which was dotted with cafés and restaurants, and subsequently, a lovely mall modeled after an Italian piazza.

#17. These treks were more an expression of listlessness and perplexity than deliberate planning, they assisted me in navigating not only the location where I would spend the next few years of my life, but new circumstances that would unavoidably stamp themselves on my brain.

#18. Walking was both an escape and a search for a pace and rhythm that felt most natural to me, given the various pressures I felt fit adapted in it 

#19. When compared to Kathmandu's cacophonous (crowded) streets, Australian streets were significantly quieter and more ordered.

#20. Nonetheless, I began to appreciate the solitude they provided with time. Across the enormous Parramatta Road from Leichhardt, where my high school's buildings resided, was the absolutely unremarkable Petersham, where my family and I lived on a street that faced the drab backsides of shops along Parramatta Road.

 #21. A minute down the road was a small park with no one in it, and around the corner was another park with a gigantic rock at one end.

#22. It didn't have much accessibility or glitz, but it was good halfway point between harsh and noisy freeway with the more pleasant alternative. 

#23. Buffer zone suburb was a nice spot to hide. At dusk, against the backdrop of a fading blue sky, the street seemed to dip towards the horizon (darker) and suddenly come to an end as I went uphill towards the train station.

#24.  Sydney in the frigid (cold) morning, the sweltering noon, at sunset, and even at dawn on my return home after those unforgotten night.

#25. He used to walk for an hour up Parramatta Road to get to Sydney University the sight were unlike anything seen before, his birthplace faded into a memory, too vast and too far to have a distinct shape. 

#26. The earth and sky, trees, and water remained constant throughout, seemingly irreversible, and frequently distressing voyage.

#27. He began his voyage with his soul friends and companions with whom he used to share his heart's secret. 

#28. Both the physical world around him could be seen through his cracks in the pavement behind the skyscrapers.

#29. It was his body's way of reminding itself naturalness and beauty.

#30. His voyage took him to the west, location where most people connect with financial richness and comfort but he felt that he has traveled to empty desert, where he couldn't find any foothold but continued his way towards his hometown.

#31. Before leaving for Kathmandu he spent his few years in United States with a specific goal in his mind but conscious decision don't guarantee happens according to their plans or expectations.

#32. The years spent in Minneapolis was alone in his life solitary in the sense that they were filled with unexpected experiences. 

#33. He felt that walking is the part of his life (solitary in the sense that he went somewhere unexpected and scarcely having conversations was being faded away.

#34. He was infatuated while walking along the neighborhood that looked charming for their sloping streets and proximity to water and snow on the ground looked bizarre.

# 35. He had his new pair of shoes to accompany him, Sunday the snow began to melt there was no one in the street and he could see majestic structure that had been built along the Mississippi river few centuries ago but it was abandoned.

#36. He could a deer that lost its way would occasionally graze in the midst of the park near the river which used to happen in the spring and autumn. 

#37. During the cold winters, he walked on a treadmill on the top floor of his apartment building, admiring the pale blue sky and the circling eagles.

 

#38.Since he was unfamiliar with the city and always hesitated before entering the doors of the building and homes but for him the location was familiar. 

#39. He had heard about people the people who used to live before the city was created so had a impression about spirits were still alive in the weeds that grew in the shallow of the lake and one old tree was left alone.

#40.Each time he drove, he observed large stretches of deserted country. he tried to divert his mind thinking this place is like normal other places with the texture and it's shape.

#41. Reminded himself how far away  from home he possibly could be?

#42. I have always known, since the first time I left home, that I’d love every place I’d visit, maybe not the people, or the culture, but itself the trees, the way the land meets the sky, the life it leads beneath the quotidian, its inhabitants and to which whether we are aware of it or not, inextricably and fundamentally bound. 

#43. Walking brought me close places, made me notice the things around me, bound me to the places that became my home because ultimately no matter where I went the air that brushed against me and the light that poured into my eyes each morning, the sounds of birds and insects, or machines were the same everywhere.

#44. It may sound ironic but walking kept me close to my roots and gave me a sense of grounding, because no matter which part of the world.

#45. I happened to be in, when I walked, I was my intrinsic self.

#46. Now, back home again, as I walk the streets of my beloved hometown, I am filled with gratitude for all the streets that have given shape to my feet, my body and my being.