En route to Lavasa, we stopped by for bhutta (corn cob). At the shop accompanying his father, was a little village boy Bala. His innocence stood out and we took out a Minion, I think, from the car's dash and handed it over to him.
He became the centre of attention amongst the others day and clearly his joy knew no bounds. That age of innocence where little things give immense happiness.
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He became the centre of attention amongst the others day and clearly his joy knew no bounds. That age of innocence where little things give immense happiness.
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