Tikki!!!

We named him Tikki because he had a big tikki of hair left on his head—and also because he couldn’t quite tell us his name in the few broken syllables he knew. Tikki was a small, cute little boy, full of confidence and sweetness.

One day, I was washing the car in the portico with my daughter when Tikki walked up to us, holding a colourful ball. All he could say was, “Didi, ball le.” What we noticed first was his brown hair with that long tikki, his cheeks—dry and flaking—and his bright, irresistible smile.

Within minutes, he had charmed his way into our hearts.

My daughter began playing with him, and to our surprise, he knew every corner of our garden better than we did. Wherever the ball went, Tikki was always the first to find it. That first meeting was enough, Tikki had already become special to us.
Tikki’s parents were vegetable vendors, leaving home early each morning, and he would go along with them to their stall. No matter the weather, scorching heat, chilly winters, or heavy rains, Tikki’s day began at 5:30 a.m. and ended only in the evening. They also helped take care of our house and stayed in a room on the first floor.

The next day, we found ourselves waiting to see him again. We had even bought a Nerf gun for him. We finally met him later that evening and gave him the Nerf gun with foam bullets.
You should have seen his happiness.
Truly, words can’t do justice to the pure joy we witnessed. He ran around the garden, unable to contain himself. In his broken language, all he could say was “bandoo” and “guli.” He was laughing, shouting, dancing, completely lost in the moment.

My daughter tried to teach him how to use the gun, but he was too overwhelmed to stop and listen. His happiness was too big to be contained by instructions.
It had been a long, long time since I had seen something so real.
The day ended with Tikki falling off the swing in his excitement, and eventually drifting off to sleep, exhausted, teary-eyed, and still clutching his joy.
Watching Tikki that evening, I realised something we often forget as we grow older. Happiness doesn’t come wrapped in big things or expensive packages, it lives quietly in small, unexpected moments. A colourful ball, a simple “bandoo,” a few foam bullets… and a heart so full it couldn’t stay still.

Somewhere along the way, we begin to believe that joy must be bought, planned, or achieved. We chase bigger things, thinking they will fill us, while overlooking the tiny, effortless moments that once made us feel alive. Tikki didn’t need more, he found magic in what he had, and in doing so, reminded us of a kind of happiness that is pure, unfiltered, and enough.

Maybe real happiness has always been this simple…….we just forget to notice.