Two sharply etched images
remain in my subconscious after today’s outing to the Bank and the Post office.
One is of an old man, struggling with his walking stick, a bunch of papers in
his hand; his thick glasses perched on his nose, straggly sparse grayed white
hair, totally engrossed in what the bunch of papers hold.
As usual, my imagination
runs riot-has his monthly income scheme matured? Like my mother, is he
crediting his grandchildren’s accounts or is he barely able to eke out his sunset
years from his carefully saved retirement benefits which he has tried to
maximize with his very frugal existence?
Behind my car, there is
urgent honking from a white City Honda. As it overtakes me, I see a young lad
of around 20 something behind the wheel looking very dashing
and impressive. I think of my son driving the family car, rushing
ahead, with not a moment to spare.
Wonder whether the child
driving the City Honda owns it, or it is papa’s generosity? Also regarding the
old gentleman, do his children have time for him? More pertinent is the thought
of who is really more dignified and impressive of the two-the one carefully
handling his hard earned money or the one dashing about in his fancy car?
Just give it a thought!!
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