On a tired Saturday evening, a phone call from a lab-mate brought some excitement. There was a plan to drive to Mitsuwa, the Japanese super-market in the outskirts of the city. After a little contemplation, I said yes and I don't regret it. :)
I remember, way back in school, I had this chapter in one of my Hindi text-books about the Japanese and their culture. I remember two distinct characteristics about the Japanese from that lesson - their hardworking nature and their penchant for order and cleanliness. I got a glimpse of it at Mitsuwa. It was quite a big store selling many different kinds of seafood but everything was so neatly organized and there was no odour of any sort emanating from any corner of the store. The store seemed like a busy market in a cute, clean little town. Polite shopkeepers, smiling cooks at the fast-food stalls, and the ever-so courteous women at the check-out counters, just leave you with a desire to stay put and admire the happenings. I was slightly disappointed by the fact that they did not have English translations for a lot of their commodities. But, that was not a problem as I had my Japanese friends to help me out.
While I was lazily scanning the different kinds of fish, this kid, a boy about 13 years old, walked up to me at a hurried pace with an eager excitement on his face. I thought he wanted to get past me to the other end of the aisle, so I moved my cart aside making way for him. He walked around the cart, came close to me and held me by both my hands. I was initially taken aback by the 'audacity' of that act. But, he held me so affectionately, and looked into my eyes with such a soft and loving smile, that I couldn't help smiling back at him. Ah! What I felt then is indescribable in words. Was it a mother's feeling when her child comes running to her at the end of a long day in school? Or was it the joy of finding a long lost friend? My friends stood there quite perplexed by what was going on.
It was a fleeting moment, but felt like ages. The boy's mother came running up to us and dragged the boy away by his arm. She screwed her son's ears very gently and said something to him in Japanese, which seemed like rebuke for his behaviour. She apologized to me and walked away with her son. Suddenly, things started to make sense to me. The kid was probably autistic. He was talking in vague sounds to his mother when she pulled him away from me. With his head tilted in quite an uncomfortable angle, he followed his mother as she disappeared into a different section of the store. I couldn't take my eyes off the direction in which they went. My mind was not into the new and interesting things around me anymore. I was yearning to see that little boy again.
Towards the end of our shopping, I saw the mother and the son again. This time, I smiled at the lady but she turned her face away, almost as if in embarrassment. I wanted to tell her that I was not offended by what her son did and that she needn't feel sorry. In fact, that was a lovely moment that I would cherish forever. But, words just wouldn't form in my head. Thoughts remained as thoughts and feelings as feelings, locked into that little corner of the brain that treasures life's most defining moments, moments that stir your soul.
I remember, way back in school, I had this chapter in one of my Hindi text-books about the Japanese and their culture. I remember two distinct characteristics about the Japanese from that lesson - their hardworking nature and their penchant for order and cleanliness. I got a glimpse of it at Mitsuwa. It was quite a big store selling many different kinds of seafood but everything was so neatly organized and there was no odour of any sort emanating from any corner of the store. The store seemed like a busy market in a cute, clean little town. Polite shopkeepers, smiling cooks at the fast-food stalls, and the ever-so courteous women at the check-out counters, just leave you with a desire to stay put and admire the happenings. I was slightly disappointed by the fact that they did not have English translations for a lot of their commodities. But, that was not a problem as I had my Japanese friends to help me out.
While I was lazily scanning the different kinds of fish, this kid, a boy about 13 years old, walked up to me at a hurried pace with an eager excitement on his face. I thought he wanted to get past me to the other end of the aisle, so I moved my cart aside making way for him. He walked around the cart, came close to me and held me by both my hands. I was initially taken aback by the 'audacity' of that act. But, he held me so affectionately, and looked into my eyes with such a soft and loving smile, that I couldn't help smiling back at him. Ah! What I felt then is indescribable in words. Was it a mother's feeling when her child comes running to her at the end of a long day in school? Or was it the joy of finding a long lost friend? My friends stood there quite perplexed by what was going on.
It was a fleeting moment, but felt like ages. The boy's mother came running up to us and dragged the boy away by his arm. She screwed her son's ears very gently and said something to him in Japanese, which seemed like rebuke for his behaviour. She apologized to me and walked away with her son. Suddenly, things started to make sense to me. The kid was probably autistic. He was talking in vague sounds to his mother when she pulled him away from me. With his head tilted in quite an uncomfortable angle, he followed his mother as she disappeared into a different section of the store. I couldn't take my eyes off the direction in which they went. My mind was not into the new and interesting things around me anymore. I was yearning to see that little boy again.
Towards the end of our shopping, I saw the mother and the son again. This time, I smiled at the lady but she turned her face away, almost as if in embarrassment. I wanted to tell her that I was not offended by what her son did and that she needn't feel sorry. In fact, that was a lovely moment that I would cherish forever. But, words just wouldn't form in my head. Thoughts remained as thoughts and feelings as feelings, locked into that little corner of the brain that treasures life's most defining moments, moments that stir your soul.
