The Yellow Ball with a Smile

A small incident at Coonoor

It was an extremely tiring day since morning.

We were on our way back from a very enjoyable family trip to the hills of Ooty in southern India.

But on that specific day, hectic schedule, unfavourable weather and a collection of various simple worries had all piled up like additional baggage on each of our shoulders. Our two young kids were hungry, tired and feeling unwell from the twists and turns of the hill road. The thought that the grinds of our daily life would soon to start when we return home was definitely not an encouragement either.

To cut a long story short, we were not in the best of our moods.

We decided to stop at the Sim’s Park Botanical Garden at Coonoor hills. The plan was to relax there for a while and fill up our belly before moving on. It was noon already.

A walk in Sim's Park

We were walking along the garden paths, when I decided to cheer things up a bit. Taking out a small yellow ball which we had bought from a road side seller outside the park gate, I threw it to my sons – thinking some playing and running around in the open space may lift the spirit. But the kids, still far away from their happy selves, made no attempt to catch the ball and let it fly by. “Bad timing”, I thought, as our eyes followed the yellow streak which bounced and rolled until, to my dismay, soon vanished in the vegetation in the hill slopes below.

Determined to retrieve the ball back, I trudged down a slippery path. Anxious eyes of the rest of my family peered from above, not quite agreeing to my ambition. Luckily soon I could spot the bright thing lodged in the undergrowth near a thin stream of water beneath a small iron bridge.

I cambered down further and crawled under the low bridge, careful not to cut myself in the rusting iron, cursing myself for my act and bad planning.

But things changed a bit then. The ball was lying in the dumps, thrown away because of somebody else’s fault and looking uncared for. But still it had the most brilliant beaming smile turned towards me and to the rest of the world – as if to say “Look at me buddy! Smile off all your troubles away!”

 "Smile off all your troubles away!"

I still remember the strength of that smile. A drop of magic must have got mixed with the black ink that printed the inanimate face. I urged the others to come to the bridge by a proper path on the other side. As they came down and shared the sight, smiles spread across all our faces in an instance lifting our moods in no time. Eventually we picked Smiley up and strolled away – a happier lot. The rest of the day was much more enjoyable with our merry softball sitting safe and snug in my pocket.

 Retrieving "Smiley"

I had taken a photo of Smiley before rescuing it from the undergrowth – as if to preserve the moment. And, even years later, every time I look at the photograph the magic of that day never fails to repeat itself.

Epilogue

 Smiley had travelled back with us home half a country away.

I had initially thought of keeping it in a box or someplace safe so as not to lose it. But then it struck me that staying put in a corner must be against its spirit. So the kids played with it for many months after we returned home. It’s once bright skin eventually got pale and wrinkled and had peeled off at places – a sign that it had been working hard at giving pleasure. But till the last time I saw it, the generous smile on its face never faded.

A long long time ago I had had stumbled upon a passage by essayist Ralph Waldo Emerson. It read …

To laugh often and much

to win the respect of intelligent people

and the affection of children;

to earn the appreciation of honest critics

and endure the betrayal of false friends;

to appreciate beauty;

to find the best in others;

to leave the world a bit better,

whether by a healthy child,

a garden patch

or a redeemed social condition;

to know even one life has breathed easier

because you have lived.

This is to have succeeded.

Our small yellow ball with big smile had definitely succeeded.