Namaste

This is a simple sketch. A small gesture. Almost self-explanatory.

Namaste.

But the meaning did not come from tradition this time. It came from a child.

A few days ago, I met a young girl from my building. I had seen her before, always cheerful in her own quiet way. At first, she would just smile, sometimes wave, sometimes make those little expressions only children can get away with.

That day was different. She looked at me and asked, "Kemon acho?" (How are you?). Not out of habit, but with a full, honest smile. I answered, and before I could think further, she reached for my hand. Gently, without hesitation, she held it and kissed my fingers with the innocence of someone who has not yet learned doubt.

It stayed with me.

She did not know who I was. She did not need to. There was no judgment, no calculation. Just a simple act of acknowledging another human being.

This sketch comes from that moment. It is not about perfection or detail. It is about remembering something we slowly forget. The ease of greeting, the warmth of connection, the absence of hesitation. Somewhere along the way, we learn to hold back.

Children remind us that we never really had to.