not a Word, just Love

Me. Sitting by the window seat of the train. Staring out with every possible random thought running in my head.

The boy. Six to seven years of age I believe. Walking ahead of his parents and halts in front of me.

He shows me the ticket and in broken malayalam asked if I could guide him with the seats and I did it right away. But I looked at the parents who stood behind him with a complete blank expression and to me it looked like they didn’t care to step up and do what elders are supposed to do.

Even before I could finish processing the thought, I saw the boy using his hands and making gestures to talk to his parents. And then the father and mother told each other something the same way and they three walked towards their seats.

I sat there, disappointed with myself. I got reminded of a line that I read somewhere - “It is amazing, the quality of human beings; we can just get past people not dressing the way we want them to dress.”

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