The simple joy of walking

There is something I have never stopped loving. Long walks on London roads. I remember stepping out early morning, the air cool and calm, the pavements wide and clear, and nobody honking behind me. I can walk for an hour and never once feel unsafe or unwanted. The city is built for people like me, people who just wants to move their legs and clear their heads.

Lahore is a different story. I do not find much time for walks here. Newsroom works keep me busy at the desk. Life moves fast, work piles up, and the day slips away before I even notice it. But even when I do find a small window to walk, I keep myself close to home. I only walk in my own residential area. I would never attempt to walk on the roads around my office. The reason is simple. The rush of traffic is too much. Walking and jogging need peaceful and calm roads. Our office roads are neither peaceful nor calm. They are full of noise, exhaust smoke, and vehicles that seem to be in a permanent hurry.

I was reading something the other day that made me nod along in agreement. Actress Rubina Ashraf spoke about this exact problem. She said Pakistan has fallen into what she called a toxic car culture. People now prefer to drive even the shortest distances instead of walking them. I could not agree more. I see this happen right in front of me every single day.

My own office attendant is the best example. The market near our office is hardly a five minute walk away. Five minutes. That is nothing. Yet he takes his motorcycle every single time he needs to run an errand. He does not walk even that short distance. And honestly, I do not blame him alone. This is simply how we have all been trained to live. We have forgotten how to walk.

Rubina Ashraf compared Karachi and Lahore in her interview. She said Lahore has real beauty and better urban development, while Karachi remains very unfriendly toward pedestrians. She spoke about how even a short walk to a nearby shop now requires careful thinking. Should I carry my bag or leave it at home. Will it be snatched. This fear has become part of daily life for so many people.

She said something else that stayed with me. She said providing a safe environment for citizens is the government’s job, yet such an environment is missing. She also criticized how poor city planning has left footpaths either missing or blocked by parked cars, even in posh areas.

I think about my own London walks whenever I read things like this. Nobody there ever made me think twice before stepping outside. Here, even a five minute walk becomes a calculation involving safety, traffic, and comfort.

Rubina Ashraf gave a piece of advice I found rather charming. She said if a friend lives just a few steps away, one should simply wear shoes and walk over, enjoying the fresh air instead of reaching for the car keys. It sounds so simple, yet it feels almost impossible in the world we have built for ourselves.

She also spoke about the complete absence of a proper public transport culture in Pakistan, and how actors, athletes, and politicians should normally be seen traveling in buses and trains in any decent society. She urged people to reclaim public spaces and walk more, saying that if enough people return to the streets on foot, the system will eventually be forced to build cities for humans rather than cars.

I long for the day Lahore feels like that. Until then, I will keep my walks confined to my own street, and keep remembering those quiet London mornings with a quiet kind of longing.