The sound of you sleeping

Yesterday, on my way home, there was a toddler fretting in the bus behind me. I turned around and we made eye contact, and, deciding to be nice, I smiled at her. Her eyes rounded; she fell silent.

I turned back. Soon, she started fretting again, and I could feel her little hands on my back and ponytail (the bus was that packed). I turned to look at her again and she looked at me. I widened my eyes, she followed suit; I grinned, she followed suit.

Since she calmed, I turned back. But then she started mewing again, struggling in her mother's arms, and now the child was trying to grab my hair, trying to get my attention.

Indian babies seem to love me for some reason ...