A little patch of red white and pink plant fronting a shanty made me stop in my tracks.
Do you tend to this plant? I asked the shack-dweller, a recluse.
Yes.
Where did you get this from?
Himalayan forest. I collect fodder from there.
Do you know its name?
Poinsettias. But I didn’t know it at first.
Why this one of all plants?
Its colours get me somewhere. Few things can sustain me the way its art of flashing a smile does.
I humbly put in his hands whatever little I had in my pocket and went on my way.