In the midst of five hundred acres of paddy there stands the dilapidated watch-house. The Old Man is sitting at the front on a stool, which has a broken leg. In the background is the new electric sub-station and farther back you can see the mountain ranges.
“Old Man, Old Man,” I call out to him, “Why are you still here? Your wife is dead. Your three sons have grown up and gone away. The landowner has bought his new Mercedes Benz and he doesn’t care whether you are alive or dead.”
Old Man looks at me with as much passion as he would look at a grain of sand.
Old Man says, “Men, younger and smarter, I have seen. Many have come and many have gone. Some have returned, some never have.”
“Don’t laugh at me son. For every man, sooner or later, becomes the watchman.”
“You watch over your wife, your children, your house, your gold, your money, your company, your reputation. The end is neither here nor there. The reward is the same. So, my son, be on your way and god be with you.”
Here we go again...
ReplyDeleteFantabulous reflections that tag along the past, the present and the future.
Would like to read more on this blog!