At times driving through the city leaves a deeper impact. The car stopped at the traffic light. Chilled air from the AC hum in silence while deep notes of piano played heavy on speakers. It`s rainy season so for most of the part dense dark clouds covered the sky. Through the haze of water droplets I see the child. All of 3 years. Perhaps the age of my son. Holding on tight to his mother perhaps a teenager in her early sixteen. The sad eyes bore no pain, they just looked tired. Tired from holding onto his mom while she begged for a rupee. I turned back looking for a shop to buy juice. Knowing fully that all I could do is perhaps sooth the body for a while. Soothing the soul is far away.
I came back with three small tetra pack juices. Signalled through the window and the mother rushed to the opportunity. Baby held tight as she crossed the street. Standing next to me I saw three smiling faces. And as I handed juice packs, the baby smiled his eyes wide open in excitement contrary to the dull expression a moment back. The innocence which was no different that my own son was infectious. I handed over the packs, the baby reached out for the same and I gave him one.
The bodies looked rejuvenated even for just a sec on the thought that the next five minutes of their lives would be spent with the cool feel of this drink. If only I could rejuvenate their soul for some time. I drove away sad and happy on the events of the road. What is the way? What can I do? The questions are hanging heavy in my mind. Am sure I`ll find the answer as I debate these thoughts.
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