I see him standing at the side of about 6 feet wide glass entrance, not moving much but, shifting his body weight from one leg to another, followed by occasional shoe taps on the floor.
The noise of air curtain when he opens the door for an approaching person is more noteworthy than his presence in this busy cafe.
Leans back to rest on the wall with cross-arms and observes the people seated inside for a good minute, then starts walking to the other end of the door. Eyes fixed on the floor, hand holding the wrist of the other hand behind his back and dragging his legs without lifting them much.
Stops; turns back; looks through the glass door…
Takes off his cap and gently moves his fingers from the forehead into his hair, brushing all way to the back of his head.
Still looking outside. Yawns.
Opens the door; this time for himself, walks out and sits on the porch.
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Distracted by a childish giggle my eyes followed the source. I see a female playing with her child under the shade of a tree, next to a huge pile of Coarse sand; looks like she is a construction worker assisting her husband with his work.
She had built a swing using some ropes, on a low hanging branch of the tree; and the child was holding the swing ropes tightly with his small muddy hands very happily.
The women pulled the swing towards her body and released it to gain some momentum and child laughed and giggled harder.
She returns to her husband who is preparing a concrete mixture with the shovel and they looked at each other with gleaming smiles, like in one of those proud parent moments; absorbing happiness of their child on a not so fancy but, the best swing in the world!
Late in the morning, while I was walking to the home on the footpath, under the trees avoiding the bright hot sun and my eyes stuck on my phone, I felt like somebody was in my way and I looked up. There was this security guard standing, probably in his mid 30’s in a blue jersey and neatly combed hairs, with an open container of his lunch box in one hand and rest containers and his cap, strategically placed on the bench in front of him.
And exactly when I was crossing him, he brought the container close enough to his face and smelled the aroma for few long seconds, like he was waiting to have his lunch since the morning and he doesn’t care about anything else at that moment.
It was one of those shiny metal Lunch boxes that have one container above another, secured by tension clips at the side, and wrapped in a transparent polybag which looked greasy yellow, probably because the oil from Curry had leaked into it.
Such a gesture of pure simple love towards his food from this random person, makes me think either Food is something very important and pleasurable in this man’s life or I take it for granted in mine, because I don’t remember the last time I did something like this.