Graying hair, receding hair-line, thick-power-glasses, .......are the features we elderly bear in our evenings of life, .... in addition to the increasing pressure of adaptations to the newer gadgets, perfecting skills to operate them and remain in touch with our dearest-dear kid, 
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Stranger, if you passing meet me and desire to speak to me,
Why should you not speak to me ?
And why should I not speak to you ?
(poem courtesy:Walt Whitman) |
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I raise the present on the past,
(As some perennial tree out of it's roots, the present on the past,)
With time and space I him dilate and fuse the immortal laws,
To make himself by them the law unto himself.
(poem courtesy:Walt Whitman) |
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One day I shall go and in my place may be a cactus will grow. Who knows ! What does it matter !!
For none will recognize me.
Existence is not by itself. Existence is by recognition.(prose courtesy:Krishan Chander) |
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| They are alive and well somewhere; The smallest sprouts show there is really no death. And if ever there was it led forward life, and does wait at the end to arrest it, And ceased the moment life appeared. All goes onward and outward....and nothing collapses, And to die is different from what any one supposed and luckier. (poem courtesy:Walt Whitman) |
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| Each that we lose takes part of us; A crescent still abides, Which like the moon, some turbid night, Is summoned by the tides. (poem courtesy:Emily Dickinson) |
