While walking on the side tracks of my office glancing on beds of shoe flowers and chrysanthemums I felt happy. It reminded me of the small garden we had in Dhanbad. My mom would plant all kinds of flowers and grandpa would tell me how those flowers were essential. He always had fondness for beli or Bella flowers in English. He said they are smaller but never pettier. They had the most amazing smell I ever sniffed. I would often pick them and keep it in my hand thinking that someday the beautiful whiff of the flower will transfer to me. It is strange how very small things leave a mark and how big things fade in oblivion!
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Today while having my evening cup of coffee, a pantry guy offered me his hand-made ginger tea. I do not like tea. I hate the after taste, tea leaves in my mouth so I avoid it as much as I can. But this time I asked him to pour me a full cup for I was touched by the way he was considerate. It has been ages since people asked you for a cup of tea because they were making one for themselves.
