Yes, it has – much water has…you know what. So back to the present!
Of late I’ve begun to think that my family, apart from the inmates of our house, are the dhobi, the postman/postwoman, the milkman, the medical store guy, the grocery chap, the cleaner – are all part of the family.
I noticed that the dhobi had had a haircut yesterday, strangely making him look kind of older. I turned my head and saw the milkman coming on his second morning round, and noticed he had dyed his hair a nice deep black. Well, couldn’t keep my big mouth shut – so I asked both of them individually about the hair treatment. And they were both sweet about it.
The relationships we form! I love how we connect with people.
I remember long ago…. a very long ago…like back in school, I’d take the bus every day for a few months, because my friends traveled in it. Then we could all get off together and walk the remaining distance to school. Now I’d see the same faces at the bus stop every day. If one was missing, I’d worry to death about it. I’d go crazy wondering what happened to them and imagine all kinds of situations. And only feel at peace when I saw the person again.
Now…hundreds of years later (at least it seems like that), I drop my son to school and pick up him again after school.
There’s a fruit cart – you know – the one that serves fruit salads and things. Well – I call him the papaya guy because I mostly bought papaya from him on the days I was too lazy to skin it, cut it and eat it. I mean, this guy did such a good job of it at a decent price – I became quite friendly. Then, this guy went missing for a month. Gosh, I asked every other vendor in the area. Yes, am very friendly with the guy who sells export surplus by the roadside, the homeless person for whom I invariably have some food, the sugarcane juice guy – and none seemed to know what happened. Sigh.
My Mom laughed when I told her. She always finds these things amusing.
Then, as I stopped by the export clothes guy a few days later, I again asked him what happened to Mr. Papaya. To my tremendous relief, he said he had shifted his cart to the mosque for the Ramadan month. Phew! I tell you, I almost burst into tears of joy. So, when the dude came back to original base, I affectionately scolded him and well – all was well. I grin at all these guys as I pass them and they grin and wave right back.
Strange eh? And yeah, I’ve been wanting to take a photo with that homeless person I carry food for.
