The Beauty of Just Being There....

Even though there was so much work waiting at his desk, nothing I said could distract him. No stories, no toys, no gentle bribing. His little heart had already decided — he simply wanted to be in that room.

At first, I was annoyed. But when I finally asked, “Shall we sit on the chair next to Appachaami?” his eyes lit up, and suddenly it all made sense. He wasn’t asking for play or attention. What he longed for was simply Appachaami’s presence.

And it struck me, because I’ve felt the very same. There are days when I have a holiday but he doesn’t. On those mornings, when he says he might go to the office so he can return early instead of late, I’m left with this quiet emptiness. Not sadness exactly — just a hollow space. Even when we’re both at home, he is often lost in his work and I in mine. We may not talk much, yet his nearness itself fills the room. Just his presence is enough.

That day, Puttu too found his wholeness in silence. He sat content beside Appachaami — coloring his book, fiddling with a screwdriver — not asking for anything more.

There are days filled with celebration, with noise, with laughter and chatter. But then there are these other days, when silence itself feels like a rare gift — a niraabharana sundari, adorned with nothing, yet complete in herself.

And as I read Naoko and Watanabe walking together in silence, watching the two of them playing,  This little scene of mine played before my eyes again. Presence. Silence. Love. Sometimes, that is all we truly need.