Like the autumn after the spring season, so is the old age after the youth. When the evening of the life comes, one feels and finds itself in isolation and bewilderness. The kith and kins and intimate friends who used to be around him in all good seasons, appear deserted. Own progeny (sons and daughters) for whom one spares not , sweat of brows, for nourishing them, also do not care much. Even the death of an oldy isn’t much mourned, saying that it was his time to go. Keeping the parents with, is an other big problem.
Ladies generally do not prefer to put up with old fossils. They certainly feel better to live in a but near a cremation ground than to enjoy a big building with oldies. Burdened by the oldies, a phenomana of uneasiness exists in youngsters. In short, life of an older person with exceptions, is always melancholous. Morality cries when a old man stands in queue or travels without seat or feels humbled when stands marginalised in own family, as hardly any one takes notice of his presence.
One can see God on the earth in the shape of his parents. Even the society is obliged to take care of oldies. The Old Age Homes where such distressed and neglected souls reside, are really temples on the earth. Here only one feels that it was a mire of delusion/ignorance, which kept one always engaged in worldly activities leading to utter deception and repentence at the end of the day. Since the last journey of the life has to be singly and empty-handed, accumulation of wealth or maintaining so-called relations, isn’t much significant.
Keshwa Nand Sharma