He should be close to three years old. His name is Mouli. He cannot keep still at a place. He is not scared of strangers. He has indefinite energy!
He ran across the intercity train compartment defying the mother who kept screaming his name trying to hold him back. He chose his favourite passenger and climbed into their lap like it is his own throne and he is entitled to it. He watched the scenes on their screens, ate the biscuits they had if he liked them, spoke gibberish and ran away when he pleased.
He became favourite to many in the coach including me, his name resounding from his mother every five minutes. The poor female had another wailing little girl on her lap. Her worry for the child was of concern. But she gave all of us a big ‘little’ reason to smile.