Two kids on a beach

The beach offers me two options when I go there alone. Settle into a place and think about any of the complex problems life offers or just observe people and take in the sights, which is what I was doing right then. The plate of chilli-cheese fries on my table was good company.

The Bessie beach in Chennai has a charm of it's own. It's pretty clean, the parking is organised and there is not much traffic out there. Being a foodie, I love that there are so many resto's and cafes alongside. More importantly for me, it doesn't get too crowded on Sunday evenings.

Today was like any other weekend. The policeman was happily patrolling the place in his swanky new ATV. The ice cream stall was pulling in a small crowd which meant the son had to help his father. The cotton candy seller was just about to start walking to sell his wares while the balloon man was blowing and making different shapes out of the long thin ones. I also spotted the visitors I usually spot. The elderly couple with walking sticks, young couples spending quality time, families with little kids who were either playing with the sand or pestering their parents to buy them something and a gang of college girls who I was looking at longer than usual so that I could find the prettiest among them.

A Toyota sedan came out of no where to the parking slot opposite me and interrupted my view. A man probably in his early thirties got out and spoke for a couple of seconds to the kid seated beside him. He then walked towards the restaurant I was seated in. The kid in the car got restless and looking left and right.

The man reached the restaurant, asked for the menu and ordered a take away. It would take twenty minutes. He settled in the table next to mine, got himself a coffee and fixed his eyes at the TV screen telecasting a live football match. My eyes wandered towards the car, the kid and the ice cream seller. That was all I could view.

For five minutes, nothing seemed to change. Then the kid noticed something behind the ice cream seller and stealthily opened the door of the car. I craned my neck out of curiosity and saw a sleeping dog and its litter of four small puppies. The kid looked left and right, bent down and started stroking the puppies. Slowly, he lifted one of them up, kissed its head, walked towards his car and put it on the back seat. He then got into the car again and stole a quick glance to check if his football-watching dad had seen him do it. Five minutes later, he repeated the cycle.

The take away arrived along with my burger. The man watched the screen till the ball was out of play and reluctantly got up to leave. He reversed the car and drove away. The gang of college girls was no where to be seen.

A few minutes later, the ice cream seller’s son walked towards the litter and was surprised to see two puppies missing. He restlessly walked right and left for a few metres and could not spot them. He ran towards his dad and apprised him of the situation. This time, both of them resumed their search together. A little while later, they had to go back to the stall and start selling again. However, their eyes were moving relentlessly along the pavement. They gave up after sometime and I felt I could spot a tear in the son’s eyes.

Around twenty minutes later, the Toyota pulled up again. Father and son got out with the puppies and walked towards the litter to put them back. The ice cream seller's son came running on noticing this. He took the puppies, hugged them and put them back near the mother, who was still asleep. Father and son walked back towards the car with the son crying inconsolably.

Then, something I least expected happened. The ice cream seller’s son took a puppy, ran towards the car and put it on the kids lap. He ran back to his dad, took an ice cream and offered it to the kid. He also refused the money the dad offered. There were smiles on all the three faces as the car reversed again and took off, slower than usual. The gang of college girls were still no where to be seen but my evening was made.

I got up, paid the bill and left a larger tip than I usually do. The people who looked at me on the way back home could have interpreted my smile as one of contentment.

The world is a much better place than we think it is.