Standing at the crossroads of my life, I take a few minutes to pause and ponder, lest I race ahead without realizing that my journey has ended.
I look back and see the long path traveled, with its curves and bends and sharp turns, but mostly quite smooth and every inch of the way as memorable as the one before. What a world it was then – a world of simple needs and pleasures, simple thoughts and beautiful lives.
Those were the days of fairy tales & fables, of ghosts & goblins.
Of waking up to a foggy morning gleefully examining the dewdrops on the Flowers.
Those were the days of picnic baskets and stolen kisses behind the trees;
Waiting for the milkman to deliver fresh bottles of milk and the postman to deliver a letter from a loved one;
Helping your neighbor fix a leaking roof, and the whole street sending you freshly baked rolls and soup when you had a flu;
When your whole office celebrated your birthday, your wedding, a birth of a child and mourned the death or tragedy in your family.
Those were the days when strangers stopped to help – to push your car to start or helped carry your bags up the stairs.
Those were the days when your friends would wake up in the middle of the night to accompany you to take your child, mother, father or spouse to the hospital or to pick you up from the airport.
Indeed, those were the good old days, the good old happy days – when people had time for each other;
Where have they gone I wonder ….
A mindless buzz of energy,
People hurrying & scurrying past each other, with glazed eyes devoid of eye contact,
Muttering on their phones and checking their apps – children and adults alike.
What sad solitary lives.
I start to walk on and I taste the tears on my lips. Tears of happiness for being lucky to have seen the old world and tears of sadness that the children will never know that beautiful world……
