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He talked

The old man

Of life and its experiences

Its uncertainties

Of things that were

His voice was subtle

And his tone mature

When I was young

Long before you were born

He said

The army commissioned me

Fought on the Burma front

Used to be a player too

Wore the National Color

As pride flashed

Across his face

He kept on talking

Of his wife and children

Of the joys

And horrors of parent hood

In those days of disease

And no medicine

He kept on talking

And I listened

And wondered

Every face that I see

Specially the elderly

Have their stories to tell

Of life’s vastness

And its upheavals

Of unbound joys

And tragedies

And suddenly

The sixty odd years

Seem like an

Instant

The journeys doesn’t end

It goes on

From self to non self

And beyond

The old man is not any more

It’s his children

He shines through

Lying in a city

Of silence

Of faceless names

Engraved on stones, cold

The old man spoke

I remember

Of life

And I listened