#2 India Posting

This evening, I was walking back home from college. Useless day I must say. Because of the seminar for tomorrow, we were free from 11 am? Like, seriously? However, not having a life besides my uhm university, I stayed back. That too till 6.30 pm.

Some say that they are thrilled about graduation. [First, I do hope that I graduate, yes that is essential. I think I will, by God’s Grace. I shall start with my Sunnath fasts šŸ˜€ Lols. God loves me!] The others about life after college. Some are working, some taking gap years travelling and doing I-don’t-know-what. I’ll be working, for sure. Masters, can wait for a few more months I think. Since I am torn between my love for Linguistics and theĀ needĀ for Education, gah. That involves too many practicalities also. Ayyyo. Life is confusing.

Walking back, I get some crunchy-munchies for the roomie. Well she asked me to about to an hour back when she whatsapped me saying that she had cleaned the house and stabilised the table. Yay. [Sitting on the floor and typing is non-spine-friendly.]

I wait my turn, there are three people waiting before me. There is only the vendor behind the counter. He has no helpers. He addresses the guy who seems to have arrived first.

This customer is an auto-driver. Or a tuk-driver, in more Sri Lankan terms. He constantly keepsĀ looking over his shoulder. I look too, curious noh. In his auto, tuk is his son and wife. The son keeps shouting and with one look from the guy next to me, the little guy quietens. After acquiring his purchase, he is about to cross the road. The little guy seems to be at it again. His dad’s look doesn’t seem to quieten him. Turns out, he wants some toy in the next shop. Mr Auto-guy goes to investigate. It’s a little snare drum. Like very little. I don’t think my hands could even hold the drumsticks! The son seems to be around 3-4? So, the toy shop vendor comes out and arrives at the demand-supply equilibrium with Mr Auto-guy. He pays for the toy and crosses the road.

I’ve bought the munchies for the roomie now. I stand next to the shop, slowly taking out my iPod and slowly untangling the wires, slowly putting the change back to the wallet, which I needn’t do actually coz the red pattiyalas I was wearing had a pocket. But I wanted to see the son’s reaction so I slowly try to commit this to memory so I can blog about it a few hours after.

It was a sight that my deliberately slowed down actions was rewarded with. The little fellow was thrilled. I love babies and I think I mostly love well, cute babies. But this evening, I learnt not to discriminate. He was a bundle of joy and his happiness, and the happiness that resulted in his parents’ faces was I dunno, a feeling my limited vocabulary does not attempt to describe.

I thought the context was something I would not be able to relate to. But, the underlying fact being, it was happiness. The spasms of happiness I Ā rarely seem to seek, but can relate to.

And happiness they tell me, is universal.


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