A Traditional Old Man
Five decades ago, one dusk after field duty
I stood at Moirang Lamkhai by the roadside
waiting for the passenger bus.
No bus came the last one might had gone I feared.
Then I spied an old man, dhoty hitched to knees,
shirt of cotton coarse sleeves long.
Bare foot he strode in the hush of the twilight.
I hailed, " Uncle has the last bus gone ? "
" Yes, it has gone, no more tonight." he replied,
" Homeward bound ? Don't worry stay at my house tonight."
No hotel in the bazaar but a pure hospitality.
We walked the road, his voice was gentle.
" See how the land developed - going on the road
feels like going on my home's floor (earthen)."
Then Gopaljee Sharma,Asstt Registrar C.S.
rolled in by office jeep post duty.
He called me aboard : I thanked the kind elder,
bade farewell, returned to my residence.
Now Moirang Bazar boasts hotels.
But such a kind hospitable old man,
which was the characteristics of people in the old days,
is not seen again.
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