Another usual day. Snoozed alarm. Ticking clock. Red light at the signal. The ever crowded Bangalore public transport. Yet something seemed slightly unusual. An old woman, barely able to balance, was holding the support in one hand, trying to stand on her feet while she constantly wiped tears from her other hand. I do not understand the logic behind youngsters and adults sitting on seats while they watch the old stand, as if they are doing a favor to the old for having the time of their life swaying around.
Anyway, the old woman in the bus sat down next to the door. She would start crying as soon as she finished wiping her tears. I couldn’t help but ask what happened. As expected, she din’t reply. After another round of tears, she started her story. She said she was upset because she was denied of ragi mudde (a south Indian dish). I understood the pain. Not so much of the situational pain but the pain of craving for a dish and not being able to get it, it’s heart breaking! I felt terrible for having my thoughts deviated from her to food. But still, foooooooooood!! :p
Continue reading “It is okay.”