It was one of those mornings where even the sun looked apologetic for having risen this early.
Last weekend we decided to meet at the park near our apartment in the morning and have coffee after that. As Jigneshbhai and I waited at the gate of the park, I saw Swami walking in new trackpants and t-shirt with his eyes on the screen of his smartphone.
He was laced with the seriousness of a man who had decided to not let a minute go waste.
“You look like you are ready with slides for a presentation to Raichand,” Jigneshbhai welcomed Swami with a sly remark. “Good morning,” he remarked when Swami didn’t look up.
Swami straightened. “This week I’m measuring everything,” he announced. “Steps, pace, heart rate, time taken to the bench, time spent sitting, water intake — everything. I read that if you quantify, you improve. I am going to track my exercise life.”
“You have a new app for measuring all these things?” I asked.
“Yes, this app is amazing. It has much more,” he said gravely. “If I don’t measure, how will I know I am improving? Last month I averaged 3,200 steps. This month — I will beat it.”
Jigneshbhai smiled. “It is a good step, but you don’t have to watch your steps so closely.”
Swami ignored Jigneshbhai’s tangential joke. He was immersed in the app and its metrics. “Raichand says you cannot improve what you don’t measure.”
“For once, you seem to see something good in your boss,” Jigneshbhai said.
We set off. The park smelled of damp earth and exercise.
Joggers who looked like wind-powered machines flashed past. Dog walkers tried to keep pace with their dogs. Walkers who talked more than they walked sat on the benches every few minutes. Vendors arranged bananas in neat rows. The morning was its usual spectacle.
After a few minutes, Swami produced his phone like a priest revealing scripture. “It measures steps, obviously. And Heart rate. Lots of the other usual metrics. But the interesting thing is that it also has some innovative metrics,” he told us.
“What kind of innovative metrics?” I asked, in all curiosity.
“Social engagement, emotional wellbeing, synchronization index, willpower score…”
“What do they mean? How does it do all this?” I made the mistake of asking.
“Look here.. social engagement – it says – it is the number of ‘Good morning’ wishes you made…”
“So, are you going to wish strangers Good Morning to increase your social engagement score?” Jigneshbhai asked.
“Yeah.. or I can say, ‘Hello’ also. Or some other greeting. And it also measures ‘response rate’ … that is, the number of people who wish me back..”
“So, now you are going to stop and check how many wishes you get back? That might reduce your step count or heart rate, though!” Jigneshbhai tried to pull a fast one.
“I will have to study it a bit more.. It feeds into emotional wellbeing score.. and..” Swami continued, till we reached the point where a coffee vendor accosted us. “Coffee, Sir?” he asked.
Swami interjected Jigneshbhai. “No.. not here.. two more rounds is what I have set as the goal we will complete today. If you have a coffee now, it will affect your willpower score!”
Jigneshbhai and I were flabbergasted, for once. But today Swami was on a different planet – the metrics planet – where every number had to be tracked and fed into something else.
We walked. “Two more rounds,” I placated Jigneshbhai. Swami nodded to a neighbour, who returned a brisk wave. Swami scribbled in his app: “Wave — reciprocal. +1 social.”
At the bench, some distance away, sat Mr Kapoor, Swami’s neighbour who was a gym regular. He had once given Swami unsolicited weight training lessons that had led to a week of soreness.
“Swami, still not going to the gym?” he asked.
Swami was clearly vexed, but the fear of his social engagement score going down worried him, perhaps, because he responded with an unexpected “Good Morning, Kapoor!”
Kapoor didn’t stop reprimanding Swami about his absence from the gym. “Park walking is for sissies, Swami. Come pump some weight with me!”
“Yes, certainly,” Swami replied. “I will ..umm.. restart tomorrow. Err.. Got to go now!”
When we went ahead of Kapoor, after a few steps, Jigneshbhai remarked, “Emotional wellbeing, social engagement and willpower just had a big clash in Swami’s head because of Kapoor!”
Swami didn’t smile, though I broke into a grin.
During the last targeted round of the park, we came across Sharmaji, who was just strolling. He talked to a vendor and bought sugarcane juice yet looked happier.
“You are measuring again?” he asked Swami.
“Of course, new app,” Swami said, with the pride of someone doing penance for a better life. “You should try it. It’s enlightening.”
“During our time, we didn’t measure anything. But we walked more. Walk to office, walk to the grocery store. Walk to pick up kids. So now I can drink this juice without measuring my sugar.”
Swami didn’t respond. For once, Jigneshbhai and I felt that Sharmaji’s rambling on the ‘good old times’ was right. Swami’s social engagement score might have gone down as we walked ahead.
As we reached the end of our walk, the coffee vendor met us again. ‘Fresh filter coffee, happiness in a cup’ his board said. This time, Swami sat on a bench and allowed us to order it.
“How are the scores?” Jigneshbhai asked.
“Steps: 4,200. Social responses: 7. Heart rate: average 78. Temptation resisted: 1/1. Overall score: 8/10,” he read aloud.
“Excellent,” Jigneshbhai said. “What about happiness score?”
Swami frowned, as if it was question out of his syllabus. “I will find out how this app does that. We will calculate that next week.”
Just then, the wealthy old man from the bungalow ambled along, cane tapping the path like punctuation. He paused and smiled at Swami.
“You are measuring again?” he asked.
“Yes, Sir. Tracking progress, new app,” Swami said, proudly.
The old man nodded as if this was a recurring event he had seen many times earlier. “Do you measure the number of times you actually enjoy the walk?”
Swami hesitated, eyes hovering over the phone. “How do you measure that?”
“You don’t. That’s the point,” the wealthy old man said. “Some things are felt, not counted.”
Jigneshbhai and I nodded in agreement, but Swami was not entirely convinced.
It was then that the wealthy old man added, “Metrics are good. But have a walk not to fill your app but to fill your morning. Walking with friends is enough.” And just like that, he walked away.
Swami lowered his phone. We sat in comfortable silence. The park hummed with its ordinary music — a bird on a branch arguing with the wind, a child finding delight in the simplest stone.
There were some morning walk metrics that couldn’t be counted.
***