‘An early morning run at Lalbagh. Yippee!’ That was my spouse displaying objectionable amounts of enthusiasm at a time one should still be curled up in bed. Propping my bleary eyes open with my fingertips, I cautiously allowed the daylight in. Only to find there wasn’t really much of it out there yet. Would have dropped off again, but could’t go back to sleep. Reluctantly popping out of bed, I proceeded to soothe my jangled nerves with a refreshing cup of tea.

The milk delivery was more than an hour away. No second cup of tea till then. The newspapers were even further away. How do I kill time till then? Maybe it was this weakened state that made me even consider the suggestion my wife made.

‘Why not come with me? You can walk around till I finish my run. Then we can come back together.’

Me? Exercise? What rubbish! Everyone knows that genetics has a bigger role in how fit you are later in life than all this lifestyle nonsense. I was about to dismiss the suggestion, well, dismissively, when the brainwave struck. Yes, we could go to Lalbagh. And then on the way back we could do what generations of Bangaloreans have done – destroy all the benefits of our exertions by having a butter masala dosa and some sugary coffee.

Gruffly I answered, ‘Maybe I could take some photos..’

Rising sun as seen from the entrance (West Gate)

A welcoming sight

The tranquil lake

Symmetry

Going it solo

Riot of colour

Sea of lavender

Silent Sentinels

A quiet moment

Aah! A refreshing sip

Newbie?

Standing guard

Cooling off

Then to the air drier

The final vista

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‘You know what, I have a brilliant idea,’ I said as we headed back home. The wife looked at me with that resigned look she gets whenever my brilliance comes up. ‘Why don’t we stop on the way and grab some brekker – some idlis maybe?’ trying to ease towards the greasy dosa that was the true desire.

‘Certainly not!’ she said. ‘I have already kept everything ready at home. You don’t want all my effort to go waste, do you?’

Which caring husband would be so heartless? Giving up my quest, I quietly tried to gauge the situation. ‘What are we having?’ I asked.

‘I have chopped lots of nice, fresh fruit. We can have that with oatmeal.’

Oh well. At least I got some photos.

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