A Midnight Smile

It was 1:37 a.m., and I had just received a Zepto parcel. I was waiting near the door, looking through the peephole, ready to open it the moment the delivery partner arrived— because I didn’t want his calling bell to wake my flatmates up. So, the second he was about to press the bell, I opened the door.

He smiled at me. It was a genuine smile, probably because he knew I had been standing there, waiting for him. I returned the smile with a “thanks” and closed the door behind me. But that smile— I remembered. I don’t recall his face, but I remember how that smile somehow lifted my mood.

It was 1:37 a.m., and a man delivered what I ordered in just 10 minutes. He had to pick up my order, ride his bike, and take the lift to the sixth floor. He had every reason to look at me like I was a monster. But no— he smiled. And that became the first face and emotion I remember of today. Yes, today has already begun, and I remember the smile.

Every time a stranger smiles at me— be it a lady crossing the street, a barista handing me my coffee, or this anna— it makes me feel so goddamn good. If a slight twist of our mouth muscles into a smile can brighten up someone’s day, then why do we act like we have only a limited number of them left in this life?

This is a reminder (mainly to myself) to always be kind to everyone around me. I really hope that anna has a good day today. I really, really do. Because I feel good about mine now.