Of Things That Matter Most...

(Dear readers, it has been ages since I updated my blog. I have had so many thoughts and opinions about so many things that I could not decide what to put up here. Some of the topics I have wanted to post on, have been on matters that may create a bit of melodrama here or some personal stuff too. So, I'd keep away from those. 

Some of my thoughts have revolved around home and my beloved city. In order to not bother everyone with my stories about Mumbai, I plan to start a separate blog. :) For now, here is a tiny post about an unforgettable incident that took place a few years ago...)

Even the smallest gestures in the world can make the most amount of difference. In a world where hatred breeds and petty matters are blown out of proportion, I have been also seeing another part of the world where people find absolute love and affection for each other.
 

Sometimes I actually feel it is sad that humans have words to express themselves in. We misuse them - more often than we think. With increasing virtual connectivity, we forget that it is not a must to put across each of our thoughts onto the online world or mobile phones.

There is a very old man in my husband's native place in Kerala - we call him Achu-eshan. He is very thin but extremely active. He has been with my mother-in-law's family for a very very long time. He took care of her when she was a little girl and used to be a caretaker of the family. Even today he plays the same role in the family very happily. He always has a welcoming toothless smile - no matter who he is greeting.

It was a hot summer's day 2-3 months after my wedding I was at this village for some occasion. It was Holi back home and I was a little sad as it was my first Holi away from my parents in a new, unknown place - where I was not familiar with a lot of things around me - the food, language, culture, festivals, etc. I was missing home a bit and it probably showed.

Achu-eshan speaks only Malaylam and back then I could not understand the tongue at all, so we would not converse with each other. He has probably never met too many people outside Kerala until now, so I was almost a complete stranger to him in every way. He was doing some work when I was trying to keep myself busy by reading a book. But I was not able to concentrate. 

After five minutes I was startled to see him standing next to me. His hand was extended with a little flower in his hand that he had plucked from the garden, as a gesture of compassion and friendship in a place where I was so out of place back then. It was so touching, that I will perhaps never forget it. This old man sensed the turmoil in my mind without exchange of any words between us, and tried in his own tiny way to soothe me and bring a smile to my face. Sometimes, only tiny things matter...