On the street

A beautiful evening falls, right after a small shower. The smell of rain on sun scorched earth. The trees and potted plants have had cool new hair do's from the Gardener and shiny tiny new leaves sprout. The promise of new life and happinesses and laughter and sunny days and flowers.
It makes you feel all smug and blink up occasionally at how the world suddenly seems just right.
You hear something on the street. Sounds like a baby wailing. It gets louder and kind of tugs at your heart. Maybe it is just a cat making noises.
You open the gate to take a peek. There is a little child on the road. About a year old. Blue coloured little tee shirt and orange coloured shorts. You see the child's small slipper-less feet, and he continues to wail loudly.
There also is a girl. Maybe seven years old. She is carrying a plastic bottle of water on her head. Must be atleast five kilos, you figure. And you can see the look in this girls eyes as she is holding up that huge bottle and looking at the child.
He continues to cry. She turns and walks on. This little child walks behind her, in its baby wobbly gait. The distance between them gets larger like the wails and it is almost tearing your heart. You want to pick up that small being and just comfort him.
The little girl is almost at the end of the street now, and finally, a saree clad woman comes running and picks him up.
They are too far away for you to hear. But you see. Baby in mommy's arms, three people without footwear walk away. Big bottle on little girl's head.
And you shut the gate. And go back to your book neatly laid on a coffee table, with a bookmark. A piece of china with your evening tea awaits you.