And I mean it when I say it I love it.
I love all things tiny insignificant common.
Little kids who respect their parents or want their parents to sit right next to them and look up at you wide eyed when you smile at this display of affection.
Guys with a rakhi on their wrist months after the fest. They care.
Grandmother get's angry at the mother for calling up an hour late and then the mother tries to make up for it by cracking jokes that arent even funny. And they laugh.
People who do not lie to their parents.
Distant relative calls up and is always bothered about how I am doing.
Dinner's with the mother. Her, me and the television set. And, her 'daughters from the telly land' obviously.
Listening to her crib and cuss about her job-mates for hours. Much of it my brain fails to retain, but I listen to her intently nevertheless.
When my grandmother tries to recollect the little English I teach her every now and then and is much tensed while using the words, lest she goes wrong and disappoints me.
I must have said this a million times out here, but I love the concept of 'family'.
In other news: I love my workplace. Enough said.
Love is not difficult to find. I love all things. How simple can it get? Untie your shoe lace, stop the 'hunt', and you'll be able to run free...like a mad cow. Only when you run into an open field and have thorns and raindrops piercing at you will you laugh out loud...And only picturing it spells joy out. Break away. Look back one last time. Fly.
