"My mother in law -" Bhagwan ji paused, grinning mischievously, "- she has a habit of saying 'Hey Bhagwan', while getting up and everytime she appeals to her God, I reply with, 'Yes, what can I do for you?'". He threw his head back and laughed. And so did we, unable to help ourselves. His sunny disposition was infectious.
We met Bhagwan ji while walking the shore. I was hypnotised by their quick, methodical movements, combing the fishing net, removing the fish and discarding the bycatch.
Responding to our inquisitive questions about their catch with one of his own, "Do you eat fish?". My friend said yes, while I said no. He looked at me and said, "You can leave, I'll just talk to her". He burst out laughing, unable to maintain a straight face.
Inviting us to sit with them as he explained how they set up the net once a day, the different fish they had caught, how he would cook them, maybe as a stew.
We spoke about his life, his home. As a child, growing up near Diu, he had witnessed the war between India and the Portuguese for control of Diu (along with Daman and Goa).
When asked about his age, he said "I'm 31! I'm very young, you see I count my age backwards. I'll finish 100 somehow." He laughed again. His eyes sparkling in the gathering dusk.
As we got up to leave, he told us that he was glad we stopped by to talk to them. I stuttered my gratitude, unable to convey how our simple casual conversation had filled me with joy and lightened my heart.