And here I am, back in Hyderabad, yet feeling like I've never been here before. The roads are all pretty and the weather's phenomenal. And interactions with the few people that I've had here so far, have reinforced that every city has a precious for me.
This time too, as caring, as quiet, as amused by my madness, as scarred, yet hopeful. This precious smiles like a child - dimples and all. Sometimes he cups his face sides in both palms and looks as if to ask "Now what shall we play?" Like a bored mischief monger looking for new avenues, the expression is of utmost intent. And when he laughs, you wouldn't guess he is all of 28!
He acts not pricey. So unassuming, so comfortable yet not. He isn't fidgety, yet jumps to action without a second's thought. But his greatest virtue emerges from the nature of his position vis a viz his family. Perhaps one never to give the family second place on the priority list, my precious Hyderabadi miraculously makes time for everyone! Friends, clients, brother, mother - home, shopping, picking me up from ANYWHERE (mostly super hero rescues them all), a liesurely evening out or business. He's perhaps never said no. He's perhaps never said may be.
KK's worries are borne not out of what would trouble him or what would perhaps pose a threat to his growth - personal or professional. The creases on his forehead and the bit of a receding hairline are a result of his constant big-brotherly-god-fatherly-best-friendly concern. Gosh! If he were to be even a tad nicer he'd be suffocating! But he even knows where to draw the line on that!
His slang is his own - "Gay ass" - ever heard that one? Not me. He would even take over your frown. He's the evening rescue from a whole day's harassment. He has a one-line solution to every paragraph problem. He's a saviour. He's a gem. He's precious. All over again.