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A Precarious Smile

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In Mauritius, people smile at each other. Even strangers. It’s often a nod – an acknowledgement of a fellow stranger’s presence. I spent my last month in Mauritius, and had to nod quite often – to the people I knew and complete unknowns – in roads, lanes, hospitals, shops or in market. My head got adopted – kind of motor reflex. I came back to India two days back, and I’m in trouble – well, my head is – literally. I generally greet securitymen in my society as ‘ Aur bhai? Kaise ho ?’, but yesterday I smiled and nodded at them. I didn’t want to - my head did, and with that my lips. Both men were from Bihar and they used to raise their hands to their foreheads in response to my usual greetings and say ‘ Sir, badhiya ’, very rarely ‘ aapki kirpa ’. But yesterday they stood still – flabbergasted – I could sense their predicament. I didn’t stop. The park was nearby – just a block away. I could see a flock of joggers at this early morning – waking dead in this winter. But I could s