Sorry

She was just a child…hardly ten; carefree, cheerful, confident and a happy-go-lucky girl. It was what I thought when I’d seen her first and the last time. Actually not! I don’t think so. She would have crossed my vision and escaped my memory like hundreds of other people whom we meet while striding across a street, run to board a bus, move along a road or whatever, but she didn’t; after all not everyday you get to meet such a wonderful person and it becomes so special when the inspiration comes from a kid.

I was returning from the office, striding through a street full of people of different makes and models. She was one of those faces whom I probably saw, willingly or unwillingly, for first and last time. Last time because they, like me, are unimportant and non-deserving for a further mention or remembering. But she is – the ten-year old carefree, cheerful, confident and a happy-go-lucky girl.

I was striding the street. She came from behind, overtook me taking big strides, almost running, probably going for her tuition classes or returning from the same; the books in her hands hinted so. In her hurriedness to reach her destination she could not see a black dog lying lazily in the middle of the street; it was already 6:30 pm and the bulbs illuminating the side shops were insufficient to lit the lane bright. Before she could see the dog, her foot had already landed on the tail of the poor dog who was either too lazy or reluctant to respond but the girl’s response was surprising and pleasing at the same time.

“Sorry” she said apologetically, yes, to the dog, wearing a smile as if the dog could appreciate, and moved on.