Every once in a while, I meet some beautiful humans who give me a glimpse of themselves. These people are busy with their lives most days, but when they do get to interact with random people like me, it's wonderful. Sometimes it's the barber telling me about how much he misses his village. Sometimes it's an autorickshaw driver who would share his love for theatre with me. Other times, it's the owner of that little shop that I used to visit as a kid, ranting about how much the city has changed. The list goes on.
The one thing that's common between all these different, beautiful people is the bond we share. These little conversations somehow give birth to a mutual understanding, a bond sans expectations. It's a transient safe space where we both listen to each other. It might not change anything, but it brings a deep sense of satisfaction and belonging. A stern reminder of how we are all essentially the same, just living different versions of what we call life.
As I get older, these little conversations continue to stay with me. I might never meet these humans again, but I carry a part of them inside of me. I wonder if they remember me too. I wonder if I meant something to them for that little while. Even if it's a no, I am grateful that it happened and wish the best of things for them.
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