Banana Seller

“Now what can you tell me about that guy?” Shweta challenges Megha. She has this habit of trying to make the other person take a misstep.

Megha just smiles. She knows it’s a game. But reading signs that are not really visible and yet tell a tale, had become an interesting exercise for her. She wasn’t even aware when she had started doing it. Her earliest memories were of rattling off a person’s character just by looking at a photograph.

She takes a closer look of the banana seller; an old man, sitting quietly by the pillar. He has a neat appearance. Even though his clothes are of poor quality and have seen quite a bit of wear, they are clean.

So are his hands and feet.

“Interesting.” She almost comments. “Not a common occurrence.”

He seems like an oasis in the dessert of life teeming around him. Quiet; serene; unconnected to the turbulence of people chasing the next moment.

And his eyes. His eyes were at odds with his wizened face. The smile in them is unexpected. Quite unexpected. Megha is almost sure that people are not drawn to him because they see the smile. It is his aura. There is a gracefulness about his being. As if he has seen much; perhaps a life that has taught him to accept a lot.

But that is another story…