A Walk in the Park

**Look for the picture slideshow at the end of this post.**

Every time you walk out your front door in Kolkata, you may run into adventure. For example, the other day Jenna and I took a ten-minute stroll to Rabindra Sarovar, a public park within a half-mile of our guest house.

The park is a rare zone of green space and solitude in this bustling city. It is sometimes called the "Lungs of Kolkata"--maybe because this is where many native Kolkatans go every morning to get their exercise. We saw hundreds of people out for brisk morning walks or leisurely strolls. Several people were jogging (the first time we had seen that in Kolkata). Others were walking their dogs. A few snappily dressed crew teams were rowing in the artificial lake at the park's center. Beyond a gate and thick grouping of low-hanging trees, a public bathhouse allowed men to simply walk into the lake and bathe.

Rain washed over the park about 30 minutes after we arrived. We saw it (and heard it) coming from the southeast. Water droplets began hitting the lake and trees slowly at first and then burst into a great timpani roll that sent everyone scrambling for cover. We had not brought any rain gear, so we cowered with about six other people under a large tree by the lake's edge. Like most rain storms in Kolkata, this one subsided after about five minutes, and everyone went about their business, a little soggier than before.

We walked along in the growing humidity, and after a while we heard what sounded like chanting. As we got closer, we could see a group of people through a stand of short trees with their arms raised. They were all bellowing in unison: "HA! HA! HO! HO!"

Jenna and I circled around to get a better look. The group had a leader, standing on a short concrete platform. He was a short, paunchy man wearing what looked to be a motorcycle helmet. "Okaaaaay! Touch your tooooeess!" he commanded, and everyone in the group bent down with their arms stretching towards their feet. "Now! One...two...three...four...five!" and everyone slowly raised their arms to the sky. "HA! HA! HO! HO!" they bellowed again. Then, we saw the sign: Safari Park Laughing Club.

We stood there for another fifteen minutes as the group went through a variety of different "laughs", some accompanied by rhythmic clapping. After a time, the group broke up and the members started to casually file off. We walked up to the sign, which also had a detailed explanation of the Laughing Club's purpose along with a prescriptive list of laughing's benefits. It apparently could help cure asthma, back pain, obesity and a variety of other ailments. Two women walked over and greeted us. The one who spoke better English said her name was Fatima. "Are you interested?" she asked.

"You mean, anyone can come and do this?" I asked. "Oh, of course," she replied with a smile. "Is it worth it?" I asked. "Very much so. It helps your physical well-being and also your mental state. Good way to start the day." I asked Fatima what time the Laughing Club started. "Six in the morning. Every morning." It looked fun, but I felt like I could hardly laugh at that time in the morning. I could barely crack a smile before 8 am. Fatima chuckled a bit. "Have a good day," she said and her and her friend walked off.

Jenna and I shook our heads and smiled. Only a city like Kolkata could drive people to seek out therapeutic laughing at six in the morning.