Randomly

He watched her from a distance. How beautiful she was, and what a wonderful person. It made him immensely proud to have played a part in making her the miracle that she was today. She was surrounded by friends, laughing and talking, in the porch of the house she'd grown up in. He'd caught two buses, jostling in the sunday crowd and walked a kilometre or two to see her. Not meet her, but see her. He didn't want to embarrass her in front of her friends. He knew his little mannerisms, clearing his throat constantly, gargling his mouth and spitting into the sink while washing his hands after eating, embarrassed and irritated her. He hated making her unhappy. He couldn't help it, She knew he'd do anything for her. She meant the world to him, and more. She was the the love of his life. The number of times she'd slept on his lap after having listened to his stories. Her first day in school, when he stood in the sun for hours, where she could see him out of the window, because he had promised her he wouldn't leave. She was what he'd always lived for. The living image of her mother, who had been his baby, and now she was. She'd always be. He'd turned back, having looked at her. How long he'd waited for this..This darshan of his goddess was enough to keep him going until he saw her again. Next year. He turned back, with a smile on his face, and the swarams of karaharapriya on his lips, his hand absently checking his pattai vibhoothi. Walk to the bus stand, bus no. M28 to Saidapet and then wait for 17, which conveniently stopped directly opposite the old age home.