When I am stuck in the traffic,with the freaky hot sun burning the noon up,the unbearably hot winds just make it impossible to breathe. I curse the heat like everyone else. I reach my room. Still hot. The bed is hot, the table is hot, my clothes in the cupboard are hot...oh my God!!!! what the hell is this. I lie on my hot bed looking up. The lizard on the wall is also wriggling around. Maybe it's cursing the heat to. I presume.
But then suddenly I recall the skinny infant that was just lying out on the pavement under a rickety umbrella that's almost torn up. I could count almost all his ribs and see him shudder in the heat. Her mother is a labourer. She is laying the bricks out on the pavement with a shovel on her hand. She is burnt black in the pitiless sun. How are they managing out there,the infant specially? Am I not far better off than them?
My complaining mind suddenly calms down and I find my room extremely comfortable. The bed, the mattress,the clothes, everything seems to have cooled down. I lie on the bed with utmost comfort under the fan and fall asleep. And I forget the frail infant and her mother.
