Tiny Pleasures of Life

It has been my latest discovery that in today’s fast life, we tend to miss some tiny pleasures of our life. These pleasures may be tiny but the fun is great.

Just some days back, I was travelling in a share rickshaw, that very justfully adhered to the rule of ‘3 passengers only’. I got accompanied by an elderly chap and a fair, curly haired and unknown girl. I don’t happen to be fortunate enough to know a ‘beautiful’ girl.

Rickshaw set off for the journey. The road was full of potholes, sleeper, muddy and everything a normal Indian road would be. So at times our (me and the girl, not otherwise!) shoulders (I have wide shoulders!) and our thighs (Read no bracket here!) touched for the fraction of the second. Gradually, rickshaw picked up pace nevertheless. Cool breezes of air began flowing in.

Something flew over, tickled my ear, my jaw line, my neck… So bad, I was dressed from my neck below! So good that those lonely hair-strands found their way till my cheeks and nose. I didn’t sneeze. And yes, it was her hair; longish, black, curly hair… Wow! They didn’t convey any smell. She may not have shampooed today. Neither had she smelled of sweat. Now this is real good. Best thing was yet to come that she also didn’t smell of typical Ponds or even Yardley! I did not know such kind of tiny pleasures can be found in potholes and old petrol powered rickshaws.

Everything was small here; the touch, the tickle, space inside the rickshaw… everything. I don’t even remember her face! So it qualifies for tiny pleasures of my life!!

Now it is a part of little zeal, good timing sense and of course a keen eye. Rickshaw journey has come to its final halt. It was time to alight and go for different roads hereafter. These two other people alighted from their respective sides. Then zap! Just before she could put both her feet on ground and adjust her top; my eyes so naturally wandered to her back and there was another tiny pleasure. There is so much fun checking out the finer nuances… a cream colour panty with bright, colourful flowers print… Just a fraction of second and she slid down her top to cover up!

This was not at all first ever such sight for me… That tiny pleasure ended there. Fun did not. Real fun is when you are feeling low, bored or even frustrated; you remember it. You have fun. I, hereby pat my own back for it. I must have a keen and watchful eye, being a photographer.

Huh! I then alighted, paid my fair then walked away in exactly opposite direction than that of her…

Tiny pleasures of life…


Alhad Mahabal
3.30 PM
6 Feb 10

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