I was halted abruptly by the elderly gentleman in-front of me when he stopped moving forward. The foot path : a congested, uneven, one-way gully, didn't help me or the other agitated pedestrians behind, relying on my lead, but on the contrary - led to a frustrated series of sighs and a few 'kya yaar's, while they desperately struggled to stay dry and reach the train station, on that rainy Tuesday.
I peered over his shoulders and realized, in-spite of the noisy droplets of rain hitting everything in it's way, the rich-blue plastic sheet only a few inches above my head, was our only fortunate source of shelter for that moment - stretching shabbily across; one end attached to the tiny tea stall to the right and the other end to a rather thin wooden post to my left which was being held awkwardly at the bottom by an efficient combination of the flourishing flood-water, a few submerged stepping stones and plenty of dense muck being greeted constantly by desperate feet.
The streets of Mumbai were flooded to the brim. At least that's what I overheard the convincing news anchor say. Moreover, I witnessed for myself, this unavoidable reality. Although I admit, I get claustrophobic quite soon, my intolerance has gotten me nowhere, as the semi-intentional pushing, shoving and random body clashes continued right through the day; the restricted path to the train station can get really crowded, not excluding our seasonal friend who seemed to be in a damp mood.
In the midst of this not-unusual chaos, I noticed an approaching young school-going boy, from a few meters ahead holding an umbrella. He carefully waded and half-skipped through the water and stopped just as he reached this elderly man in-front of me. 'Come uncle, I'll take you', said the little boy with a smile. Uncle willingly responded and held the offered umbrella in one hand and placed the other around the boys shoulders. The drops got heavier and louder but they carefully waded through the rest of the way together. Two strangers now companions.
I could almost hear a faint applause for this warm cinematic scene. I smiled to myself, in spite of being shoved from behind. What happened after, is not quite important; that little umbrella boy just brought a ray of light into somebody's life. What would've been only a rough, humid and exhaustive day for that old man, was then, unexpectedly, sprinkled with sugar.
Don't we all need this comforting re-assurance from above? The one that says,'There's a light at the end of the tunnel.'
Ironically, we wait stubbornly all our life, for someone else to pat our back, to say a kind word, to thank you; for others to tell you how good you are, to acknowledge you and appreciate what you do; for others to care for you and cajole you, to look after you and to console you; for others to say good morning first and listen to your story.
I'm reminded of the comedy film 'Evan Almighty' (2007) which stamps a strong message with the abbreviation - ARK (Acts of Random Kindness).
I would strive to begin with just one random act of kindness during my day and the world will have a lot more light in it. Gradually, what would start off as a tiny little paper boat will emerge an ARK and instead of sinking everyday, we could easily sail above the floods, just like the little school boy.
Image credit : Rahul D'souza
