The half painted white bungalow stood quiet with wooden poles on its surface wall. Overlooking the closed glass window was a small hut with roofs made of dried coconut leaves. A toddler with a rotund face and honey brown eyes joyfully played around. How did it matter,if he lived in a bungalow or a hut. how could he even differentiate? His father's hand reached to his face, gently caressing his soft cheeks. A smile touched the child's face. His little sister stood at the half constructed gate, showing something that she had. She waved out her hand, giggling, in her old brown skirt and scattered, unkempt hair. He just dragged his little knees, not caring about the mud that scratched his skin or what people would think if he did that. He was an innocent child, who lived in his small world of joys where pride, ego, wealth failed to matter even slightly. Rather it was unknown or even non existent.
As I witnessed this, I learned something. I smiled at the little kid and walked away from the window, my heart full of happiness!
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