The foothpath

I’d stay awake staring into space, questioning myself, wondering if there were more people like me awaiting light. Trying to come out of numbness, for nights together I’d stand at the window, mocking at the many high raised buildings piercing the sky. At the break of dawn I’d be engrossed in chirping birds setting flight. Watch streets fill up with morning joggers/walkers, chaotic noise of life’s hustle bustle.

One such morning just when I was to turn away from the window, I spotted an aged man (probably in his 70s) taking out bowls from two bags that he was carrying. Street dogs came closer to him as if to greet. The old man filled the bowls with food and placed them on the footpath.

The four-five dogs each had a bowl. He waited patiently for the dogs to finish. Then poured water into the bowls. By the look of it, it seemed the dogs licked the bowls clean :-) And then this old man smiled and patted his street friends who he'd treated to breakfast. The happy bunch wagged their tails and left while the old man cleaned after them before packing the bowls and walked back in the direction he came from.

There were people, all kinds of people who’d curiously stop a few seconds to understand this street treat…and there was me, standing at the window watching him every morning at 6 O’ clock!

In a manner that cannot be explained, it helped me regain peace within.

A few days later, a well-known senior journalist J Dey was shot dead on the same foothpath!

Guess this is why - aye dil hai mushkil jeena yahan. zara hat ke zara bach ke, yeh hai Bombay meri jaan…