Walking Alone: A Quiet Ritual I Never Outgrew

There is pleasure in the pathless woods — Robert Frost.

A favorite quote of mine. Though, I must admit, I find just as much joy in walking both paved and unpaved paths. There is something uniquely satisfying, almost soul touching, about a walk. I prefer solitude here. It is my time.

My earliest memories go back to the days when my brother and I walked a mile or so to school. Heavy backpacks filled with books, and a basket carrying our lunch and water bottles. The rush of early mornings, the chirping of birds, trees lining both sides of the road—it all felt so alive. There was a small breakfast spot that served fresh idlis, soft and warm. What a joy it is now, to remember it all. We passed through these little moments until we reached the intersection that led us to school.

Unlike today, early morning or evening walks weren’t really a thing back then. My city wasn’t short of parks, but walking for leisure simply wasn’t the norm. I had no sneakers, no athletic wear meant for walking. And yet, I walked.

I walked on the terrace of our home almost every day. I especially loved it after dark. The charm of the night is unmatched. Walking in circles, with nothing but my thoughts for company.

There was no pressure—no counting steps, no tracking calories, no measuring time or distance. It was walking in its most natural form.

It’s strange how habits formed in childhood quietly shape who we become.

Even after I started working, I always looked forward to a quick walk around the campus after lunch. Most days it was just me; occasionally, a friend or colleague would join. In the evenings, I often visited a park, one that held my secrets and listened to my many emotional ramblings.

And today, I still find immense joy in walking alone. I try to fit in a good three miles between work and home, when the weather allows. Yesterday was one such day after a long gap. I walked the same familiar route, aimless yet intentional.

But times have changed. Now, calories are counted, distance is measured, and time is tracked. My phone plays my favorite music, tucked away in my pocket, and my watch records it all.

My eyes are open, my mind races, my feet move at a steady pace and off I go.

A lot has changed over the years. I’ve grown, in age and in mind. The surroundings feel different, even the air at times. But what hasn’t changed is my love for walking.

Simple. Peaceful. A moment to pause, to connect with the world within, and to notice the beauty along the way.

I’ve gathered so many memories through this quiet ritual. I hope there are many more to come.