Oldman

The old man of good reputes A routine visitor in my household He was illiterate but so cunning His narration of hunting of wildlife Beautiful stories of poaching I felt. He was a man of vigor and vitality His stature as an old gentleman Got him wide respects in society Still I feared him in my inner mind. His stories of hunting the wild boar And other wild animals Were thought to be some over narration A normal human being can't be believed. But those were stories we entertained. To every applause we gave him A new story of hunting will he gave back As if a sportsman about the sports festival Or a soldier retired about the war experiences He was always ready to part with the stories. He was a proud old man of helping character In needs of urgency his services were dedicated In fact we all respects him in our minds Not through his stories but through his services. Such men of characters are missing today In village life there is no time to hear All are busy and schedules of journey heavy Shrinking oneself in his own shells of life. Innocence of village life was very beautiful But in memories only since they have disappeared The mothers, grandfathers, and uncles in society Fast disappearing in such a speed of time In fact I am in such a mood of sadness Memories are such beautiful experiences of past.