The Ravivaari (Sunday flea market) street was bustling with all and sundry. Amidst all the energetic chaos to buy things, there sat a little girl, smiling. Her parents were right next to her, selling clothes.
“That’s a lovely dress!” I said.
“I love dressing up,” she said, beaming. At that very moment, a three/four-year-old boy came and began pulling her hair. When she gave him the attention he was seeking, he pointed towards an ice cream stall. “Later!” she told him. He then ran up to his mother and began pulling her sari.
“Your brother?” I asked.
“Yes, I’m here only to take care of him. He shouldn’t be disturbing my parents right now. I must go.”