Something of Myself
Friday, November 09, 2007
He was no more than 14. The yellow tee he was wearing had the company's logo printed on it. Together with it, he was sporting a half-torn khaki. He was selling a business weekly at the traffic signal. He approached me as I waited for the lights to turn green and requested me to buy a copy.
'It's only 10 rupees babu', he pleaded. And when I told him that we get such mags free at our office, this is what he did:
He leaned on the window and gave me a huge smile. A smile which instantly made me feel like his friend. It said too many things at once. Like, 'please buy a copy.' Like, 'can you give me a ride?' Like, 'can we be friends?'
Strange but true. Then he went around the car and curiously inspected the 'Press' sticker and tried to match the alphabets that spelt my company's name with the mags that he was selling. He stood there for a minute and realised he would not be able to sell me a copy largely because I worked for that very magazine.
He came around to me and gave me another smile.
There was something about this kid - not dying out of hunger or anything but sheer innocence. His smile was not a sales gimmick. It was REAL. It came from his inside.
It made my day. Something about his smile. It was wonderful to know that someone, a total stranger, totally different in every way, made a little effort just to reach out to me. It never appeared as a big deal as I waited for the lights, but when I drove past him and saw him in the rear mirror (as he was running towards the footpath), I wished I bought a copy.
It would have made his day. Easily. Because my smile lacked everything that his smile, so effortless captured.
I wish we could be friends.
'It's only 10 rupees babu', he pleaded. And when I told him that we get such mags free at our office, this is what he did:
He leaned on the window and gave me a huge smile. A smile which instantly made me feel like his friend. It said too many things at once. Like, 'please buy a copy.' Like, 'can you give me a ride?' Like, 'can we be friends?'
Strange but true. Then he went around the car and curiously inspected the 'Press' sticker and tried to match the alphabets that spelt my company's name with the mags that he was selling. He stood there for a minute and realised he would not be able to sell me a copy largely because I worked for that very magazine.
He came around to me and gave me another smile.
There was something about this kid - not dying out of hunger or anything but sheer innocence. His smile was not a sales gimmick. It was REAL. It came from his inside.
It made my day. Something about his smile. It was wonderful to know that someone, a total stranger, totally different in every way, made a little effort just to reach out to me. It never appeared as a big deal as I waited for the lights, but when I drove past him and saw him in the rear mirror (as he was running towards the footpath), I wished I bought a copy.
It would have made his day. Easily. Because my smile lacked everything that his smile, so effortless captured.
I wish we could be friends.
2 Comments:
Beautiful! Yeah i wish you had bought a copy from him. Sometimes we are so upright, we dont go out of the set norm, we dont do the things which we enjoy the most, just bec that is not what is expected out of us. I say, break the shackles, if you wish to do something, do it, and enjoy every moment of it :-) Wish you meet him again someday...
Hey sorry about the late reply...Thank you for visiting (yet again!)...Hoping to see you soon, if you are not busy! :P
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