.
Yesterday she was standing. She had learnt to balance herself, though she looked like a little wobbly ball of cuteness. I dropped a five rupee coin in the bowl that her mother held out and walked away as fast as I could.
This tendency of forming an attachment with that lady and her child had been bothering me for a while. She had occupied that same spot in the subway for over a year and I passed her every day on my way to work. Last year she had disappeared for about a week or so, and when she came back, I gathered the courage to strike conversation with her the first time.
And it had hit me hard: she was mute. She was mute and what about the little one? I looked at her and I looked at the little mite in her arms. And she looked back at me, her distorted voice explaining something I couldn't understand. I couldn't hope to understand so many things.
.
Yesterday she was standing. She had learnt to balance herself, though she looked like a little wobbly ball of cuteness. I dropped a five rupee coin in the bowl that her mother held out and walked away as fast as I could.
This tendency of forming an attachment with that lady and her child had been bothering me for a while. She had occupied that same spot in the subway for over a year and I passed her every day on my way to work. Last year she had disappeared for about a week or so, and when she came back, I gathered the courage to strike conversation with her the first time.
And it had hit me hard: she was mute. She was mute and what about the little one? I looked at her and I looked at the little mite in her arms. And she looked back at me, her distorted voice explaining something I couldn't understand. I couldn't hope to understand so many things.
.
A new series. Hopefully. About a lady I see in the subway as I walk to office every day. And her child.
ReplyDelete