On the side of the road

There is a man on the road to Ram Juhla.  He is selling peanuts on the side of the road.  Every day he spreads out his piece of tarp, makes a fire in his terracotta pot and waits for customers.  He can’t remember his age but his body and soul remember each one of them.

Once the cheeky monkeys came for a visit. They jumped down on his hard earned living and broke the terracotta pot  from which he makes his living. With the terracotta shattered they left the crime scene. From that day on he warmed his peanuts with a small base which remained from the broken pot. From the small profit he made everyday there was not enough to buy a new pot.

This story is a million peoples story there is nothing new nothing new, no end no beginning, the state we call life.

His story was noticed by two passers by , they went to Rishikesh city to buy a new pot for the old man selling peanuts on the road to Ram Juhla.  They brought the new pot and the old man touched the pot with his wrinkled hands, he felt the shape and the rough dried clay he  smiled under  his  moustache.  They asked ok? he said Ok.  Never raising his head.

He will never recognize who gave him the new pot, his eyesight is not what it has been. A blind gift not asking for anything in return. An act not changing a lot or much but this is the way we have to start. We can all choose to make a little difference, we can’t change the world in one day but we can start little by little….

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