This November I lost my passport on a visit to India. There were some troubled hours, before I found it again, thanks to the railway police at Hazrat Nizamuddin, Delhi.
In all these troubled moments, many people helped me in their own ways. They congratulated me on having found my passport.
But my six year old nephew Mayank was the only one who was not happy on me finding the passport.
“Uncle, it is very bad that your passport was found”
“Why?” everyone stopped to hear his reasoning.
“Because now you can go back to Tripoli and will not be taking me to the zoo.”
Such is life, as seen through the eyes of an innocent 6 year old.