Have you ever seen a kind person with a tough personality? I aspire to be one. I wish everyone would be one.

I sense no human in any beings around. Or it might be my environment forcing me to sense humanity as a ghost, faint, elusive, never truly present in recent history, leaving them stained with Red.

March is almost expired, and I was staring at the pale pink wall in front with my legs crossed, thinking all at once: There's a lot of love in this world- abandoned, imprisoned, and locked. There's also a lot of kindness floating above the universe, colonized by politics of hate and rage.  The world is not short of souls silently yearning for love to heal their deepest wounds. Countless hearts wander through life, aching for kindness that has drifted too far away.

Today, a helpless boy approached me, lost in the chaos, wanting to find his way back home.  He couldn't have been more than six years of age. 

"Kya aap muje call karne ke liye phone de sakte he?" he asked.

 I felt like it was the hottest day of the year, the sun coaching in every nerve of mine. Pleading eyes, A lost soul, but the world is cruel and everyone living in it! A million thoughts, all at once, stormed in.

1. "The eyes Chico, never lie; he's genuine. But then remember those eyes once sparkled love, now hold barren desert?

2. He might run away with my phone in a vehicle parked nearby, leaving me no chances of getting it back.

3. He could call someone, steal all my data, and cause me trouble later.

4. I will again be accused of trusting the needy.

I fought to justify my hesitation.

" It's okay to let people feel lost. I have felt more lost than being found throughout my life. Sometimes, the more I am found in this world, the more lost I feel around. Let him have this moment. Let him enjoy this tension. "

My mind awakened, sending a new surge of thoughts crashing in. "Maybe, my warm smile, my simple yes, might help him feel hugged amid all the noises around. Maybe he might wear the kindness I share forever in his heart. He is at the age of shaping his character.

Giving him the phone in his hands, trusting in a stranger, I risked my faith in the world again. The echoes from the world's warning thundered my eardrums. I didn't disappoint myself. He found his dad and ran with outstretched hands to a tight embrace. Just as quickly, he dashed towards me, whispering, "Thank you."

I felt frozen, and my teary eyes welled up with emotions for doubting him once. I carried the weight of regret, of choosing to be colonized by the toxicity of politics.

All I could think of was this:  a kind heart, strong enough to be kind to itself first. 

Now, all I know is that kindness can't be felt unless it is shared. Something in me is telling myself to be gentle.  "Hurry, please, this is all you have". 

Isn't it quite an adventure- to live purely?