On that unusually chilly winter afternoon, he was standing in the shade of the huge concrete wall, in the way of hundreds of pedestrians who were in utmost hurry to enter the buzzing shopping mall. The winter sale in India can have that effect on people. The colourful hoardings behind him screeched of offers in contrast with his discoloured but clean off white clothes. His turban, neatly tied around his ears & his long moustache made him look fairly out of place midst the shopping-festival gaiety.
There was also this small brown dog; sitting with utmost discipline in front of the man, right under his nose behind the basket where he balanced cut onions, tomatoes, coriander chillies along with beaten chana. Between wooing passersby to buy his knick knacks, the man occasionally peeped behind the basket to check if the dog was still there. The dog did not bark or plead or disrupt his balance. He just sat there, facing the man, and looking at him in a long unbroken gaze.
The man looked around, calling out to advertise his wares with no luck. He peeped once again & with a slightly hesitating hand, removed a fistful & gave it to the dog.
Someone nudged me from the back, the queue to enter the building had moved on further. So, so did I.