I was weather beaten and emotionally depleted.  I had been traveling for over a year, many countries, many miles.I was feeling lost and alone knowing my lover was preparing to leave me after learning of our pregnancy.  We had a “date” to meet for breakfast to talk.

 It was early morning and none of the shops were open.  The streets were mostly deserted in that busy city of Mumbai, India.A young boy walked along next to me.  He had his t-shirt full of  fruit which he would pluck out and bite.  If he made a sour face the fruit would be flung to the side

Picking another, he gleaned the edible bites.  I imagined him going through the garbage to have found the rotting fruit.

 I arrived at the restaurant which was closed, so I sat on the curb.  The boy sat down next to me, staying focused on his morning food.A man walking very fast, passed by.  The timing was incredible, and too late for me to stop, as the boy bit , scrunched up his face and tossed, not even looking at the road.

“Splat”, right onto the bright white shirt.  The man stopped and shouted threatening the boy, I jumped up and tried to explain that he didn’t mean to, it was an innocent mistake.

The man flustered by me, white woman, American tourist, left us alone.  Whew.  The boy and I exchanged sly smiles and then laughed.

We tried to communicate but not knowing each others language, it was impossible.  In my exasperation  I picked up a stick and began to tap it on the curb.

He watched. I gave him the stick and he played out a rhythm.  We both started tapping on the curb, the dirt the rocks, our bodies.  It was fun.  I felt so light and hopeful and outside of myself.

My friend showed up as the restaurant opened, and I said good bye to the boy.  He sweetly nodded with a big smile on his face.

Once inside and sitting, it hit me.  We could have invited the boy in for food,  I felt deflated, so sad at my lost chance.

My lover left me that night.  I wandered the streets of Mumbai alone for a week, before finding a ticket home.On my last night I was getting rid of my Rupees. I only had $10 left, so I bought some scarves and nick-knacks for gifts to take home.

Then walking towards me with his arm around another guy.  I see my friend, the fruit eater.

HIs face lights up when he sees me  and I am so excited.. He tells his friend in Hindi the story of our meeting and his friend nods and smiles in approval.

As I shook his hand, I held my other hand over my heart thanking him .  The two friends then continued on their way.

I felt my heart fill up so big my chest hurt. I fumbled around for something, anything, I wanted to give him something.I found the little bit of money that I had left in my pocket. Only a dollar or two, darn, so little.
And I didn’t want to cheapen our connection. But it was all I had and they were walking away.

I ran and caught up with them and touched him on the shoulder. His eyes shone bright as he turned to look at me. I put the money out to him and he took it casually, smiling warmly.

Twenty years later I think of him as a kindred soul. I wish I could have brought him back with me.Story in Mumbai, India by Lilly Crowheart – massage therapist, Eugene, Oregon