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hen was the last time you enjoyed walking in Lahore? The first — and the last — time I committed such a deed was when I was reporting for a newspaper on the construction of Orange Line some years ago. I walked from Jain Mandir to my office on Queen’s Road.
Being careful of the broken footpaths, bearing the scorching heat, with hardly any trees around and ignoring the honking of cars and the motorcyclists who were ready to offer a ride, I walked the distance. That experience impacted me a great deal and I haven’t pursued such an activity ever since.
I grew up listening to stories from my mother and aunt, of the Pakistan that once was. My grandfather was a civil engineer in the Pakistan Railways. He was posted to various stations. The family finally settled in Lahore in the early 1960s. He often remembered how they’d ride bicycles or walk all the way from Mayo Gardens to Anarkali Bazaar back in the day, and how they had picnics under the full moon at Simla Pahari with their cousins. Later, the political and cultural landscape of Lahore changed and such activities faded away. Lahore was not the same any longer; it was no longer safe and not green enough.
Over the years our City of Gardens has turned into a concrete jungle, losing its charm and green cover. A lack of facilities such as public parks has forced a lot of people and their children to seek fun indoors. The sole outdoor activity that this city has developed over the years is eating, be it at fancy restaurants or your local dhabas; not that other urban centres are any different.
As if all this wasn’t enough to impact the citizens’ health, there is smog — the ‘fifth season’ — that now plays havoc with our lungs and eyes and ears every year for a good 2-3 months. All that the common man can do is to pop pills — from anti allergies to steroids. But what about the immune-compromised among us?
Climate activists have been protesting for years against the government’s massive development projects in the city, frequently started without proper planning. The government is now beginning to adopt ways to address this crisis, but the damage is done already.
Due to such limitations, there’s a mushroom growth of gaming platforms, paddle courts, gyms and other (mostly indoor) sports arenas across the city. Even though most places charge an arm and a leg, they are attracting people of all ages and genders.
But these activities are missing out on one important thing: connection with Nature. Indoor sports can’t replace the joy of playing in grounds. But then, for a lot of us, outdoor activities often bring trouble. Remember the young women who wanted to do yoga in a public park but were harassed and shamed?
It’s been a month since I started going to a gym. (For those around me, that’s quite the ‘unthinkable.’) However, it all feels so incomplete without the grass tickling the sole of my feet or me breathing in fresh air rather than the air fresheners.
R Umaima Ahmed is afreelance writer