Manju (name changed) is a young man. He lives not far from our home. He is like the millions of young men and women whose earnings were cruelly hit by the pandemic.
With the remarkable resilience of most of these people with no regular job, Manju turned to supplying flowers to supplement his income from sundry jobs. He comes early in the morning, carrying flowers for residents of our residential complex for their pujas.
We do not perform puja at home and observe minimal ritual, so we do not buy Manju’s flowers. But we have often been meeting him when returning from our morning walk, and speaking with him briefly. My wife, Asha, has always remarked to me about his cheer and warm smile.
